In the Sea of Iwami

Indigo

***

Away have I come, leaving under distant skies the dwelling place of my love...

Ring, ring. Lance groaned and fumbled in the darkness for his cellphone. Not for the first time, he cursed its shrill ringing and thought about getting a new one. That could wait, however.

"'Lo?" was his barely audible greeting.

"Good morning, sexy." JC. Lance sat bolt upright in bed, clearing his throat.

"Mornin', sweetness." He grinned madly; he was sure JC could hear it through the phone. "You woke me up, you know."

JC laughed. "Yeah, I know. But it's like, noon here, so it's okay." Lance shook his head, wondering if JC had conveniently forgotten about the three hour time difference between New York and LA. "How was last night?"

Pausing for a second to try and remember anything about last night, Lance suddenly noticed he had a skull-splitting hangover. "I feel like hell."

"That great, huh? And you promised not to get wasted without me..." Lance could almost imagine JC doing the cute pouty face right now. The thought made his stomach ache from missing him. JC changed the subject. "And how's Em handling the sudden fame?"

Lance thought for a while. His co-star hadn't yet shown any signs of being overwhelmed by all the press conferences and parties (one of which had been held last night) to promote the movie. She'd actually adjusted pretty well to all of it, though sometimes Lance caught her with her eyes glazed over, trying not to go crazy with all the attention. "She's handling it well, I guess. But enough about her. How are YOU doing?" He wasn't going to waste precious JC time talking about some girl.

Right on cue, JC started sniffling and pretending to cry. "It's been hard, Lance, real hard. I...I don't know what to do with myself when you're not around. You've been gone for ages."

"I've been gone for two days," he pointed out.

JC continued as if he hadn't heard him. "And you know, when I go to sleep at night I can't help hoping you'll be right there next to me when I wake up...but you never are," he finished dejectedly.

"Joshua," Lance began patiently, "I've been gone for TWO DAYS. And I'll be back the day after tomorrow. I think you can handle that, can't you?"

He gave one last pitiful sniffle. "I'll try, Lance," he replied bravely.

Lance shook his head again. "I have to go. I miss you."

"I miss you more."

"And I love you, okay?"

"I know."

***

He was a total wreck, he just didn't want Lance to know it. After JC had hung up the phone, he'd decided to drown himself in the shower and try to get rid of the aching pain just above his stomach that came from being separated from his boyfriend. He wasn't doing a very good job of it, though. If anything, the hot, steamy shower just reminded him more of Lance--he giggled at the thought--and made him wish, for the thousandth time, that he'd gone to LA with him.

"Stupid, fucking movie..." he grumbled, drying his hair with a towel. During the actual filming, he'd hung around the set constantly (that's how he'd gotten to know Em, who was pleasant enough but had the personality of a cardboard cut-out). It was actually nice, being with Lance in a country as beautiful as Canada.

But now the press junket had started, and though JC tried, he couldn't always be with Lance when he went travelling around the country for interviews and premieres. He had other obligations, to the band especially, and with Joey and Lance gone, management had been working the three remaining band members harder than ever.

"At least there's that radio interview to keep me busy for the day," he said to himself.

"Talking to yourself again, JC?" came Chris's amused voice from the doorway to the bathroom. He'd come in so silently, JC hadn't even heard him.

"What? Oh, yeah..." he replied faintly, concentrating on styling his hair so that wispy chocolate strands fell over his forehead.

"Dude, you look like a girl." Chris turned and sat on the couch, switching on the TV to flip channels. "So you're pretty lost without Lance, huh?" he called into the bathroom.

JC came out, the towel wrapped tightly around his lower body. "What makes you say that?"

Chris lowered the volume and looked at him pointedly. "You're even more flighty than usual." He went back to the TV.

JC made a sort of disgruntled noise and rifled through his suitcase, finally settling on a pair of old jeans and a tight pink shirt. He put on his clothes and turned to face Chris, determined to prove that he was NOT lost without Lance (which he actually was).

Before he could say anything, however, Chris snickered and said, "Dude, that shirt ain't doin' nothin' for your masculinity."

JC just sighed. He wished Lance would come back soon.

***

I want to go home, I want to go home, I want to go home. Lance wasn't really sure why he was repeating that same phrase over and over again in his head, especially since he didn't REALLY want to go home, only back to JC in New York. He supposed it was because wherever JC was staying WAS home, to him at least. How sickeningly sweet, he thought before turning his attention back to the crowd of press in front of him.

Tomorrow morning he'd be on the flight back to New York. Lance checked his watch. Twelve more hours he noted. He didn't think he could make it.

I want to go HOME...

***

JC got into bed feeling exhausted but happy. Tomorrow morning, he was going to pick up Lance from the airport and whisk him back to the hotel--just so he could have him all to himself for the entire day. "Only a few more hours," he mumbled before falling asleep.

Now sinks at last the sun, coursing down the western sky...

When he awoke, it was to someone kissing him slowly and deeply. He had to catch his breath before he realized it was Lance, sitting on the bed. "Mornin', sweetness," he said in a low voice.

JC smiled and sat upright. "I was supposed to pick you up," he pouted.

Lance held his chin between thumb and forefinger and kissed him again. "I couldn't wait. I took an earlier flight, just for you."

They smiled at each other, and JC said, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. But I'm home now." JC didn't get why he'd said "home", but he shrugged and kissed him once more, this time for longer.

***

fiction

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