Seven
The
first week and a half flew by in a dream for both JC and Lance. They spent
their days either taking long walks or just cozying on a sofa…or in bed. They
got to know each other, exactly as Lance had hoped they would. JC found it
easier and easier to forget that Lance was a multi-millionaire whose face was
recognized by people around the world. To him, Lance Bass was simply the man
who he was falling deeper and deeper in love with.
Lance
found himself relaxing in a way he hadn't allowed himself to do in ages. Even
with AJ, he had felt the need to keep a front up. He couldn't be himself. With
JC, he could do whatever he wanted and not be afraid that JC would judge him
for it. At three in the morning one evening, he opened up about something that
he had never told anyone.
“I
feel like it's my fault that Will died,” he said, drawing lazy lines up and
down JC's leg. JC was sitting up in bed, sketching Lance in the light of the
fire. The flames threw interesting shadows across Lance's handsome face, and he
wanted to get it on paper.
JC
put down his pencil. “What do you mean?”
“We
had been at a party…and we were both drinking. No big deal. It was before I was
really famous or anything, you know…so I didn't care much what I did. Then the
coke came out. I was ready to leave…and he wasn't.” JC said nothing, just
allowed Lance to talk. “We fought a bit, but he promised he wouldn't do much.
He said he just wanted to try it, and I didn't see a problem with that.” Lance
smiled wryly. “Ironic, huh…that I end up with a cokehead as a boyfriend?”
“AJ
is NOT anything like Will,” JC said, though he knew nothing about AJ and even
less about Will.
“No,
that's true,” Lance admitted. “Anyway, I ended up leaving the party with a
friend. I assumed Will would just crash there. He didn't. He tried the coke,
got high, and got behind the wheel of his car.”
“Lance,
that's not your fault.” JC threw his sketchbook to the floor and moved to lay
next to Lance. “He was an adult.”
“I
shouldn't have left,” Lance muttered, staring into the fire.
“Is
that why you've adopted Justin as a little brother?” JC asked, and Lance
smiled.
“He's
so much like him, Josh. The way he talks, the way he looks…it about stopped my
heart the first time I saw him.”
“I'm
supposed to be the only heartstopper in your life,” JC said, poking Lance's
bare chest. Lance smiled bigger and kissed the top of JC's head.
“You are. I promise.”
Lance
was nowhere to be seen when JC got out of the shower a few days later. JC dried
off, got dressed, and headed down to the breakfast room. Lance was at the
table, reading over a newspaper.
“I
swear, you just do that to impress me. You probably don't understand a word it
says,” JC teased. He kissed the top of Lance's head as he walked by.
“Yes,
I do. It says that France has found its new artist, and that it's not letting
him go,” Lance said, folding the paper and placing it next to his plate. “It
says that if he ever wants to paint again, he has to stay in France forever…and
that the government will pay a famous actor millions to guard him.”
“Sounds
good to me,” JC said. He poured himself a glass of apple juice before sitting
down. “Hey, what's this?” JC picked up the small book that was on his plate.
“It's in English.”
“Last
time I checked, that WAS your native language. Or would you like to read this?”
Lance waved the paper in the air.
JC
popped him the finger and flipped through the book. “A Paris tour book?” He
looked at Lance questioningly.
“I
thought we could go up for the weekend,” Lance said casually. JC shrugged.
“If
you want.”
“There's
a special Cassatt exhibit at the Louvre, if you're interested,” Lance said,
mimicking JC's shrug.
“What?”
JC slapped the book down on the table.
“There's
a benefit for the museum Saturday night…I got us tickets. Check out page
thirty-four of the book,” Lance said without looking up from his eggs. JC
flipped through the book.
“And
if you enjoy good American art, check out the traveling Cassatt exhibit that
will be arriving…sophisticated dinner benefit…” JC's mouth fell open. “Lance,
you did NOT pay that much for a meal!”
“No,
I didn't.” Lance put down his fork. “I paid that much for the chance to wander
through the exhibit in private. I paid that much to see the look on your face
that I see now.”
“Thank
you,” JC whispered.
“You're
welcome.” Lance went back to his eggs, but couldn't hide the smile on his face.
