Twenty 

 

Lance spent the evening after the meeting trying to call JC, but he kept getting JC's machine. JC wasn't in the dining hall the next morning, or outside any of the classes that Lance knew he was supposed to have that day. He was worried, but figured that Chris would have contacted him if something serious had occurred. He finally tried one last place where JC often hung out.

He heard classical music wafting from the open door of the art studio and smiled. JC's other passion beside music was art. He was a fairly good painter, and often spent hours in the studio. The art teachers kept trying to get him to change his major and get more involved in painting, but he insisted that music was his one true love and real talent.

Lance peeked into the large room. JC was alone in the room, standing in front of an easel. Lance couldn't see the canvas. “Hey,” Lance called, walking into the room.

“Hi.” JC didn't look up. “I'm kinda busy here.”

“Can I see what you're working on?”

“I'd rather you didn't,” JC almost snapped, and Lance blinked in surprise.

“Must be a nude of Chris or something,” Lance teased, and JC gave him an icy stare. Lance noticed something strange in JC's blue eyes, but couldn't put his finger on it.

“Is there something you wanted?”

“You wouldn't BELIEVE what happened yesterday at the house,” Lance said, trying to ignore JC's odd behavior.

“I really don't have time for your little frat tales, Lance,” JC said. “I said I'm busy.”

“It's totally amazing. It all happened and it was like a soap opera,” Lance continued, still determined to ignore JC's mood swing.

“Let me guess.” JC put down his paintbrush and crossed his arms. “You finally realized that you want Justin Timberlake, and you gave him a REAL blow job this time, instead of a drunken attempt like last time.”

Lance stumbled back, almost falling over a table. He put his hand down into a palette of paint and didn't even notice. “What?”

JC looked momentarily ashamed, but didn't apologize. “You heard me. Is that what happened?”

“JC…what are you talking about? Why are you acting like this?”

“I'm not in the best of moods today, Lance. My world has fucking fallen apart, okay?”

“What did you mean about me and Justin?” Lance's green eyes were huge.

“Lance, I don't have time for this. Go ask him. I'm sure he'll tell you everything.” JC turned back to his painting and Lance started to leave the room. “Oh…by the way?” JC called over his shoulder. “You told him about Jeremy.” 

“God!” Justin dropped his books as he walked into his room. “Lance! You scared the shit outta me! Dave's in class, and I knew the room would be empty.” As a new member of the frat, Justin had to share a bedroom.

“The door was open,” Lance said quietly. He was on Justin's bed, sitting cross-legged.

“Are you okay?” Justin picked up his books and put them on the desk. He shut the door. “You look sick.”

“I feel kinda ill, yes,” Lance said. Justin swallowed nervously.

“What…what did you want to talk to me about?”

“The night of the Halloween party.”

“Oh, that.” Justin sat down on his roommate's bed. “What about it?”

“I came on to you?”

“Well…” Justin had the decency to blush. “You did.”

“And what did you do?”

“Made you stop. Tucked you into bed. Left,” Justin said truthfully.

“God.” Lance rubbed at his eyes, fighting tears of embarrassment. “How awful.”

“You were drunk, Lance. And hey, how could you really resist me, right?” Justin tried to tease. Lance didn't look at him.

“I told you something. Something I've never told anyone.”

“Not REALLY,” Justin said. “You thought I was someone else.”

“Jeremy.” Lance stared into space.

“Lance, it sounds like this dude totally used you. It wasn't your fault.”

“I never said it WAS my fault,” Lance snapped. “I just…don't like to remember it.”

“But you do every time you look at me, it seems,” Justin said. “You…you said you wanted me.”

“I was drunk,” Lance said quickly.

“Oh,” Justin said, and Lance almost thought he seemed disappointed.

“Well, now you know why I've been such an ass to you,” Lance said. “I apologize. You're not him, and I know that.”

“I would never use you,” Justin said softly, and Lance looked at him. “Really.” There was so much Justin wanted to say. He wanted to tell Lance how much he respected him, for the great person that he was. But there was no way he could do that. Not now.

“Thank you.” Lance stood. “I just needed to find out what went on that night. If I'm weird around you for a while…”

“Don't worry about it. We'll be home on break, anyway,” Justin reminded him. “If you don't mind me asking…what made you remember that night?”

“I still don't remember it,” Lance admitted. “JC told me.”

“JC?” Justin gasped. “I never thought he'd tell you!”

“He was a real dick to me, actually,” Lance said. “He was pretty mean.”

“Why?”

“I have no clue.” Lance headed for the door. “But I don't plan on talking to him for a while. Not after the way he acted today.”

Twenty-One