"Thanks again for driving me around today, Jus. My car should be out of the shop sometime this week." Lance said, as Justin's M-Class pulled into his drive-way.
"No Problem, Bass. Remind JC that he owes me for doing this for him. Your boyfriend should be chauffeuring you around, not your best friend." Justin said with a laugh, putting the car in Park.
"I will. He's going to be so surprised. He wasn't expecting us back until later this evening. The meeting didn't take long at all." Lance said, grabbing his briefcase and sports jacket from the backseat.
"Yeah, yeah. I don't want to hear about the happy little escapades y'all are going to be doin' just cause you're home early. Don't be late tonight. Brit will be pissed if you guys aren't there on time."
"We'll be there. Don't worry. Go home and tell my secret lover, I'll see her tonight." Lance said with a small laugh.
"Tell C hi for me. I'll see y'all later." Justin said, backing the car out of the drive-way, honking his horn one time once he was on his way down the street.
Lance waved quickly and made his way inside. He threw his keys down on the table in the foyer, hung his jacket in the hall closet, and placed his briefcase down inside. Lance made his way in to the living room, not seeing JC there, headed to the kitchen, then the backyard. That's when he heard the music floating down to him from their bedroom window.
"Bet he fell asleep with the radio on again." Lance said chuckling to himself as he made his way up the stairs. Once on the Landing he could hear movement inside the room. JC was not asleep. This made Lance smile.
Turning the knob, Lance stepped into the beautifully decorated room. The room he and JC had decorated together as soon as they had bought the house. The mauves and greens around the room adding a little homey feeling to a place they hardly ever got to see when touring.
"Baby, I got out of the meeting early. Ain't that gr�." Lance stopped stunned at the sight before him. 'Is it really possible for a person's jaw to hit the floor, cause I think mine just did.' Lance thought absently, before the reality of the situation set in. Then there was nothing but numbness.
There on the bed before him was his beloved JC, his arms wrapped around another man. A brunette, taller, thinner than Lance. He recognized him immediately. Ron Wilson, their choreographer.
"Oh shit." He heard JC mutter, his movements over the younger man stopping when he spotted Lance standing in the doorway. "Oh my God, Lance. What are you doing here? I thought you were in a meeting." JC said, as if it were a perfectly logical explaination. He started to remove himself from the other man, but Lance's voice stopped him.
"It let out early." Lance said, then seeing JC moving off the man, held up his hand and added. "No, stay there. I'll only be a minute." Lance said, his voice eerily calm, which scared JC more than the situation itself.
Staring wide-eyed at his lover, JC watched Lance move to the closet, remove several shirts, pants, ties, sports jackets, and pairs of shoes before he moved on to the dresser, then the bathroom. "Lance?" JC called out, the tense silence weighing heavily on him.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. I didn't know. I didn't know. Shit, JC why didn't you tell me?" Ron whimpered from under JC, JC's weight keeping him in place, when he wanted nothing more than for the earth to open and swallow him. He began to silently sob.
Lance emerged from the bathroom, dumping all of his toiletries on the pile on the floor where he had piled his clothing. The approaching the bed began to speak, his voice and eyes not betraying any emotion he was feeling. "I'm not going to tell you how much you've killed me, JC. I'm sure you knew that you would when you started this thing. I know that was probably not your intention, because you never intended for me to find out. But I did, and that can't be changed now." Lance said, kneeling down by the bed and reaching down under it for his suitcase. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw JC's owlish eyes watching him, stunned speechless, and Ron. 'Poor Ron.' Lance thought. He cringed as Lance neared the bed.
Lance stopped his movements and moved closer to the young choreographer. Reaching up a hand, Lance rubbed the man's forehead, removing sweat-dampened hair from his bloodshot and tearful eyes. "I'm not mad at you, Ron. You didn't know, and I'm sure JC didn't tell you before hand." Lance said, kissing the man on the forehead, while JC watched on.
Lance then pulled his suitcase out from under the bed and began packing it. Once finished, Lance stood, suitcase in hand. Walking calmly to the door, he stopped only when he heard JC call his name. "What JC?"
"I'm sorry."
"So am I." Lance said, pulling out his cell phone and punching in a familiar number. "Justin, I need you to come pick me up, I'm going to crash with you and your mom for a few days�..I know you just left, but come and get me�please�..thanks J�." Lance's voice trailed off down the hall as the tears trailed down JC's cheeks in the bedroom.
~*~
"What happened?" Justin asked, driving down the road, Lance in the passenger seat. "You and JC have a fight about china patterns or something?" Justin joked.
"There aren't going to be any china patterns." Lance said, his voice as devoid of emotion as it was when he had called Justin.
"What do you mean, 'there won't be any china patterns'? What's going on?" Justin asked, concerned not only by Lance's words, but also by his demeanor.
"I don't want to talk about it right now, Justin. I just want to take a shower and go to bed." Lance said, leaning his head against the glass of the window. As a tear slipped down his cheek, Lance mumbled, "I wish we hadn't gotten out of that meeting early." The statement and tear were not unnoticed by Justin as they made their way to his house.