| "Hey, me and Chris are going out clubbing," Justin addressed the room
at large. "Anyone else wanna come?" JC looked up from the notebook he was
scribbling in and just shook his head. Justin shrugged and looked to Joey.
"Joe?" "Sure," Joey agreed, pulling out his cell phone, "just give me a couple of minutes to call Kelly and check in." "Lance?" Lance bit his lip uncertainly and cast a concerned eye in JC's direction. Jace hadn't gone out with them for weeks... Even considering how little he usually came out with them after shows, it was odd. "No," Lance finally answered. "I think I'm just gonna hang here for awhile." "You sure?" Chris asked. "Yeah. I'm pretty beat after today's show." It wasn't a lie, not really. He was tired. "Suit yourself," Justin grinned, "don't wait up!" Lance just rolled his eyes. After their bandmates had left, Lance flopped down onto the bed JC was stretched out on. "What're you working on?" he asked. He had to get Jace talking, and given half a chance, he would run off the mouth about his newest creative endeavor. "New song." Lance frowned at the short and somewhat distracted reply. JC's shoulders were hunched protectively. Lance peered over his shoulder. The page JC was pondering was a mass of half written lines and scratched out words. On the whole page, there were maybe ten words surviving the massacre. "Looks like you've got a bit of writer's block," he prodded. JC flipped the notebook cover closed. "Look, it's nothing, okay?" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Let's just watch a movie or something." He picked up the TV remote without waiting for Lance's response. Halfway through 'Shanghai Noon', which had hardly elicited a smile from JC even though Lance knew for a fact he'd nearly pissed himself the first time they watched it, Lance sighed and bumped his shoulder against JC's. "Hey," he said quietly, "if you need to talk or something, I'll be here." JC turned off the movie but continued to stare at the empty screen. "It's not important," he said at last. Lance said nothing, knowing that disagreeing would be pointless right now. "Lance?" "Yeah, Jace?" "I'm tired." Lance looked over at JC. He didn't look tired. After two full tours together and a few performances on a third, all of them knew what they looked like tired. But... "So sleep." JC shrugged. "I can't." Lance blinked, but hardly missed a beat. "Want a back rub? I bet you'll be snoring by the time I'm done." JC tilted his head and looked over at Lance, almost smiling. "Thanks." Lance took that for a yes and, after dramatically cracking his knuckles, spread his fingers over the small of JC's back and began kneading. The muscles were tight under his hands, tired from the intense dancing of barely a few hours before. JC probably hadn't even taken a hot shower to relax. It was hard to keep his mind on the mechanics of the massage. JC's skin was warm under his touch, even through the sleeveless shirt he wore. Lance quietly sucked in a deep breath, closed his eyes and enjoyed just smelling for a moment. Okay, maybe it was weird, but he really liked the way JC smelled. There was nothing commercial about his scent - nothing perfumed or manufactured. He smelled...real. Lance realized his massage had grown more personal and less professional and pushed a little more firmness into the strokes. As JC relaxed he seemed to sink into the bed, until he was resting his head on his folded arms. The smooth, naked skin of his neck beckoned to Lance. He hesitated, then gave into temptation and slowly working his thumbs up the back of JC's neck, rubbing in small, soothing circles. Lance reluctantly ended the massage when his fingers began to grow tired. Opening his mouth to ask JC how he felt, the younger man grinned when he realized Jace had, indeed, fallen asleep. *** "Jace," Justin said, rubbing a towel over his sweat soaked neck, "you missed a few steps out there. I mean, you carried it off pretty well, but people are gonna notice if we fall out of formation." "I know," JC replied, with a slight sigh. "I'll do better." Lance frowned, but just then the cue for the next number rang out and they rushed back out on stage. *** "No, I'm gonna stay in," JC declined, his standard response to a proposal they go out, lately. "Me too," Lance answered Joey's inquiring look. Then they were gone, leaving Lance and JC alone again. "Are you sure you're okay?" Lance asked after a bit. "It's not important," JC said, not really paying attention. He sighed and scratched out another line in the notebook that lay open in front of him. "Jace, if it's upsetting you this much, it's important." JC sighed again. "I'm not upset, Lance, I swear." The smile he turned on his friend was strained. "Just...a little burnt out, you know?" "Yeah," Lance said softly. "You know you can talk to me, right?" "Yeah," this time, JC's smile was genuine. "I appreciate that, I do. I just...have to work some things out." Lance bit his lip, tempted to blurt out his own secret. He was pretty sure the guys all knew he was gay, but it wasn't exactly the sort of thing that came up in casual conversation. Well, he could bring it up...but it didn't really seem to be much of an issue. On the one hand, if sharing something he'd had a hard time working out for himself would help JC open up, it would be worth it. One the other hand, there was the chance JC might freak out. Lance knew he wouldn't survive it if Jace freaked. *** When Lance wandered into JC's hotel room, movie and microwavable popcorn in hand, JC was writing in his notebook. But not in the front of it. He was writing in the back, and the pen flew across the page. Lance could tell he hadn't struck out a word. "Jace?" JC's head snapped up and he practically slammed the book closed. "Hey Lance," he greeted, mock casual, "what's up?" "Movie?" Lance offered, letting the notebook go. For the moment. "Sounds good." If he hung around long enough, Lance knew he'd be there when the urge to confess hit JC. It's not like it was a hardship spending time with the other man. *** Lance was working on some papers for FreeLance when JC wandered into the room. Almost. He stopped in the doorway and hesitated there. "If you're busy..." He turned as if to leave. "Nope," Lance smiled encouragingly and closed the folder. Okay, so it was already almost a week overdue...it could wait. It looked like JC was going to open up. JC edged his way into the room, then seemed to mentally give up on his reluctance and practically crumpled onto the edge of Lance's bed. "Bobbie and I broke up." Lance caught his breath. "When?" "This morning." Lance carefully hid his disappointment. Sure, JC was more upset now, but he'd been almost depressed for weeks. Bobbie was not the problem. Still... "Why?" he inquired, forcing as much sympathy into his voice as he could. JC shrugged. "She said we were getting old. Said it didn't feel like a real relationship anymore, whatever that means. I guess she just fell out of love with me." "I'm sorry." "It's okay," JC said, sounding more resigned than upset. "I sort of fell out of love with her too." "You never said..." Lance commented leadingly. "I didn't want it to be real," JC explained, not looking at Lance. "I mean... When we started this I was 18. Which is not that young, but it's young enough that I was still playing, you know? Hearing ourselves on the radio was a thrill and touring was fun. And we kind of got to do that all over again when we broke into the North American market. But now...it's been six years and I'm 24 and the fans screaming out there are still 14 years old. I want...I want something real. I know I can't have it right now, not while NSync is still big, but I thought I could have part of it. I thought Bobbie was part of Life After NSync." "I know how you feel." JC cast a skeptical eye at him. Lance took a deep breath and plunged onward, the decision made almost before he thought about it. "Listen, I know I have FreeLance and A Happy Place and all that, but... Jace, I'm gay." JC's eyes widened in shock. Lance forced himself to continue, not to think about JC's reaction. Not yet. "That's a part of who I am, and I can't deny that. Believe me, I tried. Because of that part of me...nothing I do right now feels right. How can it? I lie about the most important part of my life every day..." he trailed off, not wanting to make this conversation about him instead of JC. "Why didn't you tell us?" JC asked after a moment. "I mean, you shouldn't have to lie to us too...it's not fair to you. We're all we've got." Lance shrugged. "Too scared, I guess," he said softly. JC threw an arm around his shoulders and turned his head to look Lance in the eye. "You're my best friend, you know that?" "Yeah," Lance swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I know." *** Lance tip toed into JC's room, keeping a wary eye on the slumbering form of his friend, and silently lifted the battered notebook JC was always writing in from the table where it lay. Creeping back into his own room, he settled himself on the bed, turned on a lamp and flipped to the back of the book. If JC wouldn't tell him what was wrong, maybe his notebook would. Lance left the door connecting their hotel rooms open. If JC woke up and wandered in on him reading the book, so much the better. There were songs written in the back of the note book. Lots of them. Lance didn't recognize a single one from their production meetings. Before reading the lyrics, he skipped to the front of the book to check out the songs there. They were all pretty typically poppy. On one particularly crossed-out page, Lance counted almost forty occurrences of "y'all". They were all scratched out. The songs in the back of the notebook were different. For one thing, none of them had titles. Most of them read more like poetry. Lance read one, mouthing the words to himself. I'm lost in the night, Can't find the light, And all my purpose is gone. It's sad and unfair, Nothing left but despair, No reason to see the next dawn. Dreams have been taken, It's time to awaken, And face the painful truth. Nothing is witty, They listen from pity, What have I done with my youth? Lance frowned, and slowly turned the page to another. It's hard to be alone In a roomful of people, But I manage. It's hard to be invisible In front of a swarm of cameras, But I manage. It's hard to be lonely, With four brothers, family, But I manage. It's hard to watch dreams die, It's hard to see love pass by, And these I cannot manage. Several pages after were as bleak, or worse. Lance was genuinely worried by the time he reached the one and only even slightly positive passage. It was short. Take my heart into your care. You blew away the dust, I thought had settled there. Something made Lance look up. JC stood in the connecting doorway, his face impassive. "Interesting reading?" "I care about you too much to keep settling for "it's not important, Lance"," Lance said, not feeling in the least bit guilty. "Why didn't you tell me?" "Tell you what?" JC shrugged and dropped down on the bed, no anger apparent. Lance breathed a silent sigh of relief. "That you've been depressed. Really depressed." "Could you have helped?" "I could have tried." Lance looked down at his own hands, suddenly finding them fascinating. "Look, if you'd rather talk to someone else... One of the other guys, I mean." He started to rise, as if to leave, despite the fact that it was his room. JC's hand on his arm stopped him. "No. Lance, stay." Lance slowly sat, still unable to meet JC's eyes. "It's not that I'd rather talk to someone else. Hell, I'm pretty sure I can't talk to any of the other guys. You've...you've been here, and that makes it easier, but that doesn't mean it's easy, you know?" "Yeah," Lance said softly. He looked up at last. "What's wrong, Jace?" JC ran a nervous hand through his hair. It was a long moment before he spoke. "You remember during No Strings Attached, how excited I was about writing music?" Lance just nodded, afraid that words would halt JC's explanation. "And how I gave all those interviews about how I love writing music and that that's what I want to do with the rest of my life?" Lance nodded again. "Well," JC went on, lips turned down, eyes almost flat, dead. "I don't know if you knew this, but I wrote a lot of songs for Celebrity. A lot. And I threw them all in the hat for consideration. I knew some of them sucked, but I figured you never knew with suits, and it might give me a better shot. "Out of all those songs, only one made it onto the album. One of mine, and three of Justin's. Three out of four he submitted. It doesn't make it any better that he didn't even give a shit about them. He wrote them because he was bored and he thought he should." JC was silent for a long time. Lance waited. "That made me go back and take a good look at my work. I kept thinking, something I feel so much is right, something I want so badly to do can't be that bad. Maybe it just didn't fit the mood of the album. But you know what? I suck, Lance. All my songs are the worst pieces of shit I've ever seen on paper. The fucking suits must have been laughing at me." JC's voice had started to tremble. He pulled up his feet onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his knees. "It...it hurts when you realize that you suck at the thing you really thought was your calling. I still love songwriting, you know? But loving it doesn't make me good at it, and if I'm not good at it no one's going to give me a chance to do it. "I thought I had something real. I thought I had something that was going to last beyond NSync." "Jace," Lance said softly, "this stuff," he tapped the back cover of the notebook, "this stuff in the back, that you don't show anyone? This doesn't suck. I think maybe your other songs aren't as good as you want them to be because they aren't real. They're manufactured. The stuff that comes from your heart, that really means something to you, that stuff is incredible." "I can't turn those lyrics into a pop song, Lance." "Pop isn't the only genre out there." There was a long, long moment of silence. Just as Lance was thinking one of them should leave, JC spoke again. "Just so you know, it really doesn't bother me that you're gay." Lance forced a smile. "I know." "No, you don't," JC shook his head. "You think I'm just putting up with it because you're my friend. You think I'm uncomfortable, and you're hoping I'll get comfortable with it eventually. But you don't believe that I'm comfortable with it now." Lance shrugged. "Lance, I'm bi." Lance's jaw dropped. JC actually smiled at that. A real smile, one not in evidence much recently. "What, you're surprised? Half our fans think I'm a little too flamboyant, you'd think the group would have figured it out." "I guess I thought I was just projecting," Lance said, and blushed. "Nope," JC said, and sauntered out of the room. Take my heart into your care. You blew away the dust, I thought had settled there. *** "Jace, you coming out?" Justin asked. "Nope," JC replied, not bothering to give an excuse. "Lance?" Lance glanced over at JC and shook his head. Justin's eyes flickered between them for a moment before he grinned. "Is there something going on with you two?" he asked slyly. "No," they said in unison, not looking at each other. They didn't see each other blush, but Justin did. He grinned wider. "If you say so," he said carelessly, but closed the door to their hotel room with an ostentatious thump. Lance tilted his head and looked over at JC. "We are alone," he announced melodramatically. JC burst into giggles. "It's good to see you laugh," Lance commented when he'd gotten his breath back. "It's good to feel like laughing," JC smiled at him. He propped himself up on one elbow. "What do you wanna do?" Lance look at him with an odd gleam in his eye. "I think I want to see you laugh some more," he announced, and launched himself at JC. Lance's fingers sought out ticklish spots with the unerring precision of years of practice. Under his hands, JC laughed and squirmed, half-heartedly pushing Lance's hands away. Lance, grinning, rolled JC underneath himself and attacked the brunet's ribs with both hands. JC gasped for breath in between his giggles and bucked up against Lance, trying to throw him off. Lance rode the movement easily, then froze in dismay a moment later when a flush of pleasure spread through him. He struggled to squash his arousal, but the movements of JC's body beneath his broke his fragile control. JC, oblivious to Lance's struggle, took advantage of his moment of inaction to gain the upper hand. Crowing in triumph, he flipped Lance onto his back and sat on him. A moment later his mouth opened in a soft "oh" of surprise. Lance turned his head aside, at once horribly embarrassed and ashamed on the erection currently pressed into JC's thigh. "Lance..." "Just let me go," Lance murmured, resigned. "Lance," JC insisted, "look at me." Lance dragged his gaze back to JC's face, not daring to meet his friend's eyes. JC sighed softly and in the next moment his lips were pressing undeniably against Lance's. Lance was unresponsive for a long moment, but JC refused to end the caress. Slowly Lance began to return the kiss. Their lips moved together for a long time, soft, hesitant, close-mouthed. JC, terrified he was pushing too far, dared not hope for anything more than that the kiss continue, chaste as it was. Lance relaxed, giving himself up to the warm pressure of JC's lips against his. But he quickly grew hungry, impatient. He lifted his hands and cupped JC's face between them. He licked at JC's lips a little and was startled at the sudden easy access his friend granted. Their tongues twined together hotly, a slick caress that banished any nervousness JC had felt. The brunet slowly stretched out on top of Lance, never breaking the kiss, trembling with pleasure as more and more of his body was pressed against the man below him. JC could feel the heat between them building, even through layers and layers of clothing. At last their lips parted. Breathless, JC could only stare into Lance's beautiful eyes and hope Lance could see the desire he felt, because there was no way he could speak at this moment. Lance smiled softly and kissed him again, briefly but passionately. As they drew apart again, Lance's hands slid over JC's back and down to cup the curve of his ass. JC caught his breath and thrust hard against Lance, who chuckled and gave him a squeeze. JC, his head resting on Lance's shoulder, moaned and licked at the younger man's throat even as he rubbed shamelessly against Lance's thigh. Lance tilted his head back, enjoying the little licks and nibbles JC was lavishing on his neck. "I want you," he murmured, voice dark with lust, and gave JC's ass a little squeeze to clarify the point. Half a dozen responses rushed through JC's head. I want you back. I need you. I love you. Please. Yes. Make love to me. What he said was: "So take me." Lance froze for a moment and JC had barely a second to be certain he'd ruined everything. Then Lance curled one arm around JC's waist and rolled them over so fast JC barely had time to register the change in position before Lance was kissing him hard and deep and he was moaning freely. He was hard, so hard his jeans were painfully constricting, but Lance seemed to understand because a moment later he was tugging at the fly of JC's jeans and stripping them and his boxer briefs off in one motion. JC reached eagerly for the first article of clothing he could tug off of Lance. It happened to be his shirt. It was tossed aside and forgotten immediately. JC sat up, Lance sitting across his thighs, and wrapped his arms around his lover. The smooth, soft skin under JC's fingers tempted his lips and he found himself licking Lance's chest eagerly, his palms pressed into Lance's lower back. Lance panted softly, the fingers of one hand tangled in JC's hair, the other determinedly hiking up JC's shirt, waiting for the moment when his eager lover would pull back long enough for Lance to discard it. Finally, hard and aching with want, Lance reached behind himself and took each of JC's wrists in a firm grip. Quickly Lance unwound JC and pressed him back onto the bed almost harshly. JC looked up at him, wide-eyed, but the surge of his cock against Lance's belly betrayed his excitement. Lance disposed of JC's shirt, kissed him once and ordered, "Stay right there" firmly. JC nodded and licked his lips. Hurriedly, Lance climbed off the bed and rushed to the bathroom, which he proceeded to trash in an urgent search for condoms, which he found in his toiletries bag, and lube, for which he finally had to resort to the tiny hotel bottle of hand lotion. Returning to the bedroom, Lance paused and was left momentarily breathless at the sight of JC lying naked on the bed, his wrists crossed above his head exactly as Lance had pressed them, his cock full and dark with lust. Lance couldn't help but reach down and rub himself through his jeans. He bit his lip and moaned a little, and JC turned to look at him. "Lance..." the older man said, his voice rough and needy. Lance quickly stripped off jeans and underwear and crawled onto the bed. JC bent his legs without being asked, pressing his feet flat against the bed. Lance moaned a little and dropped the supplies he'd fetched on the bed in favor of leaning down to caress JC's inner thighs with his tongue and lips. JC gasped, his hips jerking up involuntarily. Lance smiled and worked his way higher. JC wound tighter and tighter with anticipation. Lance inhaled JC's musky scent and could resist no longer. He bathed JC's balls with his tongue, the skin somehow both rough and smooth against his tongue. "Lance," JC murmured senselessly, "Lance, oh god, please, Lance, oh! Please more, more, more, more!" Lance, ever obliging, wrapped one hand about the base of JC's cock and his lips about the head, sucking hard and without warning. JC screamed. Screamed and arched into the incredible wet heat, but Lance held control firmly and rode the movement, setting his own pace even when JC laced encouraging hands into his hair. "Lance, please," JC gasped out, "I'm close...I want to...I want you..." Lance released JC's cock with a final lick and kissed him deeply to silence the incoherent pleas. "I know," he murmured into JC's ear, and licked it before leaning back on his heels. Retrieving the hand lotion, Lance squeezed a puddle of it out of the bottle and coated one finger. He rubbed that finger against the sensitive patch of skin behind JC's balls for a moment, then moved on to press slowly but inevitably inside JC. JC stilled his squirming, but the pleased little gasps that keep escaping his lips before being cut off reassured Lance. Soon JC was pressing back against the invading finger, his hips tilted up encouragingly, and Lance felt safe in pressing another slick digit within. JC relaxed faster this time, as if he only needed to be reminded how to open up like this. Lance felt a stupid twinge of jealously at that thought, but reassured himself with the knowledge that tonight JC is his. It is his touch that JC pleads for and his name on those beautiful lips, and it is him that will be buried inside that tight heat soon. And if Lance pressed a third finger in a little too quickly, JC certainly didn't seem to mind. "Lance," he moaned, "Lance, I'm ready. I want you. Please, Lance..." "Okay," Lance soothed, voice shaking with want as he rolled on the condom and smeared lotion over his cock, "I'm coming, baby, I'm coming." And it seemed a little silly to Lance to be calling JC "baby", but the brunet murmured "yeah" and lifted his legs to Lance's shoulders, so when he pressed his cock inside of JC he said, "Open up for me, baby." Then there were no words, because JC's ass was tight and hot and JC was whimpering and urging him deeper with the press of his heels and it was so fucking good. They paused, gasping, for a moment with Lance buried to the hilt inside of JC. JC tilted Lance's face up and kissed him deeply, their tongues pressing and sliding together and when they pull apart JC whispered against Lance's lips. "You fill me up so good, Lance," and licked Lance's lips. "Take me. Take me hard." Lance lost it. He hooked his arms under JC's so he could grip his lover's shoulders for leverage and he bent JC double with the force of his thrusts. JC screamed his pleasure and thrust back as hard as he could. The headboard of the bed banged against the wall and they made a heck of a lot of noise but neither of them cared, too wrapped up in the pleasures of friction and the slide of sweaty skin against sweaty skin to be relieved that they had the whole floor themselves. Lance hit JC's prostate on every thrust now and it sent the most incredible waves of pleasure through him, each plunging stroke driving JC further over the edge. Lance came first, his hips jerking uncontrollably, irregular thrusts piercing JC and it's this beautiful loss of control that triggered JC's own climax. They clung together for a long moment, occasionally wracked by a few last shudders of pleasure. JC's legs slipped from Lance's shoulders and they stretched out together, doing their best to ignore the occasional twitching of abused leg muscles. Eventually Lance peeled himself away from JC, reassuring his lover with a quick kiss, and went to the bathroom to discard the condom and fetch a damp cloth. Clean, once again tangled together, Lance pillowed his head on JC's chest so he doesn't have to look at him when he asked, "Jace...have you ever...you know...done that before." JC answered hesitantly, tripping over his words. "Just...um...just by myself." Lance looked up, surprised, and JC blushed bright red. "A girl tried it with me once," he explained, "just touching there, you know? And, um, I liked it, but I couldn't ask anyone else for it. So I tried it myself. Alone. Just, just fingers at first but then that wasn't enough so I bought...something to...help..." he trailed off, hopelessly embarrassed. Lance kissed him slowly, deeply. "Did you ever wish there was someone with you?" Lance asked, wanting to know who but not able to ask. JC answers quietly. "I wished it was you. I always wanted it to be you." "Good," Lance said, smiling, and kissed JC again, "because you're mine." "Yeah," JC murmured, "I am." Then, "This is real?" "Yeah," Lance reassured. "This is real. This will always be real." "Good." |