Twelve 

 

Lance had originally fought the idea of leaving the club with JC.  First of all, he didn’t feel like watching JC and Chris play the cat and mouse game they had been involved in since the beginning of the semester. Secondly, he just wanted to dance, to try and be someone else for a while.  Obviously the person he truly was was incredibly boring.

“C’mon, Lance, please?” JC had begged.  JC so rarely begged for anything that Lance relented. “I really like him.  And I don’t want to leave you here alone. I’m not that kind of friend.”

“Fine. But if you two end up playing footsie under the table, I’m gone.”

“No footsie,” JC had promised.

Lance ended up having a really good time. He knew Chris fairly well from the talent show, and he found that Chris was absolutely hysterical.  Lance soon forgot why he had wanted to stay behind in the first place.

“So…I hope you eat better than you dance,” Chris said with a straight face as they climbed into a booth at the most popular diner in town.  JC and Lance sat across from Chris, and Lance saw JC’s mouth fall open out of the corner of his eye.

“I think I do MANY things better than I dance,” Lance replied, and Chris grinned. 

“At least you recognize that fact. I think I’ll have eggs,” Chris said, swiftly changing topics. JC blinked.  It was Lance’s turn to smile.

“Chris, you’ll have to slow yourself down a bit for JC here. He’s not always quick on the uptake.”

“I like doing things slow,” Chris said, looking JC in the eye. JC actually blushed, as did Lance. “You two are so cute.  All sweet and innocent.”

“I’m not innocent,” JC and Lance said together, then glared at each other.

“We’ll get to you in a minute,” Chris said to JC. He looked at Lance. “What’s wrong?”

“Huh?”

“You’re not the dancing type. You’re not the type to get your groove on in public. JC said you weren’t acting like yourself.”

“This is not the time nor place to give me a psychological evaluation,” Lance said primly.

“Sure it is!  You learn the most about someone in a casual situation.”

“I think he likes someone that he hates,” JC volunteered.

“Who?” Lance turned to his friend.

“Timberlake.”

“JC, I should wash your mouth out with Clorox!”  Lance choked. “Justin Timberlake?”

“Hmmm…remember how in elementary school, the girl whose pigtails you pulled and picked on the most was the one you liked the best?” Chris mused.

“No,” JC and Lance answered as one.  Chris laughed.

“Right…I’m the only bi at this table.  Anyway…maybe you’re right, JC. Maybe Lance has a thing for that Timberlake kid.”

“No. No no no,” Lance said firmly. “No way. I hate him. I hate everything he stands for. He SAYS he’s bi, says he wants to join the frat, but there’s no way he has such innocent motives in mind.”

“Are you saying every athlete is a liar who wants to get into gay frats?” Chris asked softly.

“No. Just him. I mean…guys like him,” Lance said quickly. “I’m gonna have French toast. JC, what are you having?”

“Uh, waffles,” JC said quickly, blinking again at the quick change in topic. “With apples.”

The waitress arrived, and Lance was saved, though momentarily. They gave their orders and handed over their menus. Chris sipped at his coffee and looked at Lance. He then caught JC’s eye and winked.  “That Justin’s pretty hot, though. I mean, for a kid.  He’s what…eighteen?”

“He’s a freshman,” Lance replied.  “And he’s not all THAT hot.”

“He’s the one with the green eyes, right?”

“Blue,” Lance said quickly. “Blue eyes.”

“Oh.”  Chris looked at JC, eyes sparkling with amusement.  He changed the subject to music, and it was Lance’s turn to observe as JC and Chris talked.

They stayed at the diner until almost two in the morning, when JC started yawning.  “JC’s not a night owl,” Lance said as they stood and tossed down their money.  “But then again, he’s not a morning person, either.”

“I like to sleep,” JC said defensively. “It’s my hobby.”

Chris smiled. “I promise to let you sleep as much as you like.”

“I had fun, Chris. Thanks,” Lance said. “I’m gonna start back to the frat. JC, call me.”  Lance walked away before JC could say anything.

“So…” JC bounced on his heels.

“Is this where I walk you to your door and kiss you under the porch light?” Chris asked.

“You want to kiss me?”  JC whispered.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all night,” Chris admitted. “Where’s your porch light?”

“About three blocks from here.”  

They began walking towards JC’s apartment. “So…would you like to go out sometime, or do something?” Chris asked.

“This Saturday I was going to drive out to Sonoma to go to the Art Festival,” JC said. “I don’t know if you want to spend all day with me looking at art, but…”

“I just want to spend all day with you,” Chris interrupted. “I don’t care WHAT we’re looking at.”

“Here’s my building,” JC said, looking up. “But I don’t have a porch light.”

“So I’ll just kiss you right here,” Chris said, tilting his head up slightly.  JC turned his face down and they kissed.  “I’ll see you in class.”

“Right,” JC said. “Will this be weird?”

“Probably. If I pay you less attention than normal, don’t be hurt. It’s just better that way.”

JC nodded. “Okay, well…I’ll see you.”  He made himself go into the building and shut the door before he continued to kiss Chris until they both passed out.

Thirteen