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A few weeks later, Lou delivered the news they'd been hoping for. BMG had finally agreed to write up a contract that included Lance, as long as they could see improvement in the dancing.
Of course, Lou wasn't like Johnny and delivered the news in front of Lance, who set his mouth in a thin line and nodded to himself.
Chris sighed to himself, and when they all gave each other congratulatory hugs, he made sure to hug Lance longer than the others.
The sound of music was what woke Chris up. That was the reason he could come up with, because it was 2:12 in the morning and he and the others had been sleeping for a few hours already, resting up for another early rehearsal. For once, they stopped rehearsing before midnight, and now Chris was wide awake.
Such was life.
The sound was so quiet that he wasn't even sure if there was actually music playing or if it was just a cruel trick being played on him by his mind.
Really, he wouldn't put it past himself.
After ten minutes, he sighed in defeat and hauled himself out of bed to see if he could at least find something to eat. Instead, he found Lance.
Lance was in the TV room with a walkman attached to his pajama pants, going over the choreography of the song they'd started practicing to that day. It wasn't even one of theirs, and Chris had no idea what it was called, but it was still something they had to dance to...Lou said something about "tuning the skills," whatever that meant.
Whatever it meant, Lance was still dancing in the middle of the night, and it wasn't the first time he'd managed to sneak out of bed without Chris hearing him. Chris turned on the light. "Dude," he said. "Your freakin' music woke me up. How the hell did you get out of bed so damn quietly and then your music wakes me up?"
Startled, Lance stumbled into the couch and pulled the headphones out of his ears. "Um," he said, "what'd you just say?"
Chris just shook his head. "Never mind," he said. "What are you doing up? It's." He glanced at the clock on the wall and winced again at the time. "2:25. You're." He shook his head. "Come back to our room, man," he said.
Lance shook his head slowly. "Nah," he said, "I couldn't. I'm not tired, I couldn't sleep anyway. And I can't get this--"
"Show me," Chris interrupted, fighting a yawn. "Lemme see, I'm no Justin, but maybe I can help."
Lance flashed a wry grin. "Good thing you're not Justin," he said.
Chris had to grin back. Justin tended to get everything right away and didn't understand people who had trouble doing certain things. JC and Joey got along just fine, but Chris knew that he and Lance weren't born for the dancing thing. The only reason Chris was any good at it was all the dancing he'd done during school, but Lance hadn't done quite as much and Chris didn't think the jazz hands and toe tapping Lance had demonstrated once were too complicated.
"Okay, um," Lance said, breaking into his thoughts. "It's the part where..." he stopped, and even in the dim light Chris could see his cheeks flush.
Chris winked at him. "I'd offer to close my eyes," he said, "but, you know. That would kind of defeat the purpose."
Lance laughed shortly and nodded. "Yeah," he said.
He showed Chris what he was having trouble with, and Chris watched, nodding. "Mmhmm, mm," he said. "Right, I know what your problem is."
Lance looked at him curiously. "And?"
Chris looked him up and down lewdly and nodded again. "You need to get laid. Maybe then your hips will--"
It was all he could get out before Lance yelped. "Chris!" his face flushed even redder than it had before, and Chris was fairly certain it wasn't from the dancing.
Chris fought a grin. "You know," he said, "you're really cute when you blush. Maybe you should--" he found himself interrupted again, this time by Lance tackling him to the ground.
"You're such a jackass," Lance muttered, elbowing him in the ribs.
"Yeah," Chris said, "that's why you love me." He winked and jumped up, dragging Lance with him. "Come on," he said. "Give it a rest. You're Super Poofu. Nothing can ever stop you. You're fine."
"But--" Lance protested.
"No buts," Chris said. "Come on. Back to bed we go."
Lance sighed, muttering "frigging Mighty Mouse" under his breath, but let himself be dragged back to their room. Chris pushed him to the bed and Lance got in obligingly. "Chris," he sighed. "I need--"
"To sleep," Chris said, shoving the covers under the mattress. "Nighty night."
"Chris," Lance whined now, "I feel like a mummy."
"Good," Chris said, "so now you'll stay in bed." He grinned and turned off the lamp before jumping under his own covers. "Night," he said.
Lance finally sighed in defeat. "Night," he said.
A few minutes later, Chris was still awake and so was Lance, he figured, because his breathing hadn't evened out yet. Even after such a short time, he knew the difference between Lance sleeping and Lance faking sleep. And this was definitely not the deep breathing of Lance sleeping, because this sounded suspiciously more like Lance trying not to cry.
"Chris?" he finally said.
Chris could hear the tears in his voice and frowned in the dark. "Yeah?" he asked.
"I'm sorry," Lance said quietly.
Chris frowned again. "For what?" he asked.
Lance's voice was muffled by his pillow. "Holding you guys back," he said. "Being such a crappy dancer. Letting you all down. We almost didn't get a deal because of me, and I just. I'm sorry."
Chris shook his head, even though Lance couldn't see him. He was feeling that ache in his chest again, and he cleared his throat. "No, man," he said, "no. You're not letting us down, don't think that. Please don't think that. And you're not holding us back. We didn't want to go anywhere without you," he said. "We didn't. I wish you would believe that."
"I'm sorry," Lance said again.
Chris got out of his bed and stood up, but didn't turn on the light, knowing Lance didn't want him to see the tears. "C'mere," he said.
"What?" Lance asked.
"Come here," Chris repeated.
It took a few seconds for Lance to get out of the tomb Chris had made him, and Chris allowed himself a small grin. When he finally stood up, Chris grabbed him in a hug. "Chris," Lance said weakly.
"Shh," Chris said into his ear. "Don't ever think you're holding us back," he whispered. "You're family now," he said. "You're our family. We need you here."
Lance let out a sob into Chris' shoulder. "Chris," he said again. "Chris."
"Shh," Chris repeated. He pulled away from Lance, making sure to hold onto his hand, and got back into his bed, tugging Lance down with him.
"I'm sorry," Lance whispered.
Chris threw the covers over both of them and pulled Lance closer in an echo of the position they'd had only seconds before, this time laying down. "It's okay," he said. "You're okay."
Lance didn't seem to hear him, and instead muttered into Chris' neck. "I'm sorry," he said again.
Chris shook his head and squeezed Lance closer to him. "I'm not," he said softly, and finally Lance hugged him back and let himself cry.
When Chris woke up the next morning, he was happy to see that Lance was still asleep. He didn't want to move for fear of waking him up, so instead he used the time until Lance woke up to freak out.
Inside his head, of course, he didn't want to wake Lance up by making the strange jerky movements that usually accompanied his freak outs.
Looking down at Lance, he decided to assess the situation.
He snorted to himself. "Not too fucking hard, Kirkpatrick," he said quietly. Lance was sleeping. In his bed. More specifically, in his arms. He shook his head. There was nothing remotely sexual about the situation. He breathed a sigh of relief. So he hadn't corrupted Lance at all. Hopefully. Chris could only hope that he wasn't kicking the poor guy the whole night. Or now, he realized, stilling his leg with a sigh.
JC interrupted his inner mutterings by sticking his head in the door. "Hey, rise and shine," he said, "if I have to be up so do you, and Joey's making break--" he stopped. "Fast," he finished weakly. "Um. Am I. Are you. Did you. What?"
Chris grinned and shushed him. "He's sleeping for the first time in decades," he said. "And no, we didn't. No, we're not. And no, you're not."
"Um," JC said, "okay. You. I'll be downstairs?"
"Okay," Chris said with a grin. "As soon as Lance wakes up we'll be down too. I don't wanna screw up the sleeping pattern."
Lance muttered into his neck again, but it sounded like it was just sleepy ramblings so Chris relaxed.
JC stared at them, and smiled suddenly. "Okay," he said. "Take your time."
Chris shook his head. He'd never understand JC when he got like that.
Lance snuffled into Chris' neck again. "Mm," he said, "whossat? JC?"
"No one," Chris whispered, "go back to sleep."
Lance shifted a little, apparently finding nothing out of the ordinary in being tangled up with Chris, and fell back asleep.
Chris couldn't say he minded.
"You guys," Justin said, "hey, guys." He kicked at Chris' foot. "C'mon. We're finally boarding."
Chris grumbled in his chair. "You better not be shittin' me again," he said, opening his eyes.
Justin grabbed his hand. "I'm not," he said, dragging him to the gate. JC, who'd actually been sleeping instead of trying to sleep, stumbled after them.
"You're gonna pull my arm off, Curly," Chris said, wrenching his arm out of Justin's grasp. "Where are the other two?"
"On the plane," Justin said impatiently.
Chris rolled his eyes at JC, who offered a sleepy smile in return. Chris wondered if he was really just sleepwalking, but shrugged. "Who's sittin' where?"
"I called window seat and so did Lance." Justin grabbed onto JC's arm instead.
Chris rolled his eyes. "I don't want a window seat," he said.
"So that leaves you next to Lance, I'm gonna assume" Justin said, pointing at JC who appeared to have fallen back asleep on his shoulder while they walked. He grinned.
Chris grinned back at him, and poked JC in the stomach. "We should have you tested for narcolepsy," he said.
JC waved his hand and mumbled back something that was surely an insult to Chris' entire family tree, but Chris let it slide, because of course, JC wasn't in his right mind. And besides, no one understood what he'd said.
When they finally got to the plane, Justin hopped over Joey, and JC staggered after him, dropped himself into the aisle seat, and started snoring on Joey's shoulder.
Chris sat in the seat across the aisle, next to Lance, and shook his head. "Never fails," he said. "Never fails."
Lance looked away from the window and grinned at him. "Some people just have that strange ability," he said.
Chris smiled back and checked to make sure his seatbelt was tight enough. When the stewardess started going over flight procedures, he kept his eyes on her and listened to every word.
Lance was reading a magazine, and Chris scowled at the side of his head before turning back and looking at the stewardess again. "What," Lance said, not looking up. "Do you not like flying?"
Chris glared for a second before whipping his head back. "Shut up," he muttered.
Lance chuckled, but stopped when Chris glared again. "No, hey," he said, holding his hands up. "I'm not makin' fun of you. I think it's cute."
Chris didn't look at him, but felt his face flush a little bit.
"Hey, asshole," Lance said, poking him in the ribs. "You're cute when you blush too."
Chris flipped him off, but didn't mind so much when Lance let him squeeze his hand during take-off.
When they were finally in the air, Chris dropped Lance's hand. "It's only take-offs and landings," he muttered, ducking his head to look through his bag.
"Good," Lance said, "I don't think my hand could take much more."
Chris felt Lance's eyes on him until he looked up, and Lance turned his head away.
Chris' feet were tapping. Whenever he got on a plane, nervous energy made him even twitchier than he usually was. Lance finally glanced at him. "You okay or are you gonna start flying away?"
Chris glared at him. "Shut up," he said. "I don't like planes. Or, really, anything more than a few feet off the ground. We established that."
"I'm not makin' fun of you," Lance said softly. "It's just...you're driving me crazy, man." He flashed a smile at Chris.
"Sorry," Chris said, chewing on his thumb. "Can't help it."
Lance pulled Chris' hand away from his mouth and dug through his bag. "Here," he said, tossing something at Chris. "Maybe that'll keep your hands busy."
Chris looked at him blankly. "A. You seriously have a Rubik's cube?"
Lance shrugged. "Just for emergencies," he said.
"Dude, this is awesome," Chris said.
Lance gave him a weird look but Chris had it figured out in ten minutes and threw it back in Lance's lap. Lance looked at it. "Um," he said.
Chris shrugged. "Easy. Mix it up again." At Lance's confused look, he grinned. "I saved money and got these for my sisters for Christmas one year, and then borrowed them back and played with them. Got to be pretty good at it."
Lance blinked, and looked at the cube. As he scrambled it again, he turned to Chris. "You're a closet math geek, aren't you?"
"NO," Chris said, making a face. "Are you crazy? I hate math."
Lance grinned. "Dude, you're better at this than I am." He tossed the cube back at him and Chris studied it for a second before moving the sides around.
"I hate math," Chris muttered.
"But I bet you're good at it."
Chris shrugged. "I hate it," he said.
Lance laughed to himself. "You're a nerd," he said.
Chris elbowed him in the stomach. "Shut up," he said.
"What's this I hear about you being a nerd?"
Chris looked over at Joey and snorted. "Better'n being a human pillow, jerkoff," he said.
JC and Justin were each sleeping on Joey's shoulders, and he shrugged, looking back at his Game Boy. "Don't mind," he said. He laughed to himself. "Nerd."
"Jerkoff," Chris muttered again, turning back to Lance. "Thanks," he said.
Lance grinned. "No problem," he said. "Anything I can do to make you seem cooler is just, you know."
Chris hit him over the head with the Rubik's cube.
"So, Lance," Chris said, "you glad to be here?" his thumb was in his mouth again.
Lance looked at him strangely. "Of course," he said, batting Chris' hand away again.
Chris stuck his other thumb into his mouth defiantly and started chewing on the nail again. Lance rolled his eyes. "I mean, you know. Glad that you didn't go back to Mississippi, and all."
Lance furrowed his brow. "I never wanted to go back," he said. "I always wanted to be here. I love you guys and this group. It's the best thing that's ever happened to me."
"Yeah," Chris said. "We know you belong here. I just, you know, we wish you'd stop trying to prove it so much. You're in the group, man, we want you here."
"I know," Lance said, and frowned. "I never said thanks...for that night, when."
Chris grinned. "It was my pleasure," he said, and meant it.
"Hey, boys," Lou said, clapping Lance on the back after everyone was off the plane.
Lance stumbled forward a little but smiled faintly at Chris, who frowned. "Hey, Lou," Chris said, mimicking the motion except Lou didn't stumble. "You enjoy first class? Must've been rough up there."
JC started laughing but Justin helped cover it up by tackling him.
Lou gave Chris a strange look, but broke out into a smile. "It was tough," he said, "but I survived. But I have bad news for you."
"What?" Chris asked.
"Well, it turns out that only two rooms for the hotel are booked, so three of you are gonna have to share one and we'll put two in the other, as planned. Now, both rooms have pullout couches, so you know, it doesn't matter to me what you do, just let someone know so we know where to find you."
"I call a bed," JC said from under Justin.
"Me too," Justin called out.
Joey sighed. "Let's make this easy," he said, "I'll take the couch in JC and Justin's room, because I'm assuming they're going to want to share so they can finish whatever they're doing down there later." He looked at Chris and Lance. "Cool with you guys?"
Chris shrugged and looked at Lance. "Fine by me," he said.
Lance nodded. "I don't mind."
"Great," Lou said, slapping Joey on the back. Chris was the only one to see him wince comically. "Thanks, Joe. Now, would you guys go get those two off the floor? We're in public." He laughed. "I'll see you at the hotel."
Chris made a face at his back. "We're in public," he mimicked, rolling his eyes.
Joey hauled JC up off the floor a few minutes later, and carried him, giggling, over his shoulder to the exit. "Come on, C, we can't embarrass Mr. Lou."
"Big...Poppa..." JC said, laughing. He hit Joey on the back. "Let me down," he said.
Chris nodded to all the people passing by. "Hello," he said. "How are you?" he asked another. "Don't mind us, they've all forgotten their medication. Excuse us, thank you. Thanks. How do you do? Hi."
JC only giggled more. "Joey," he said, "put me down."
"What?" Joey said. "I'm sorry, I can't hear you. Try speaking English?"
"Speaking of English," Lance whispered in Chris' ear after another strange look. "I'm willing to bet these people don't really understand everything that you're saying."
Chris only grinned. "Oh, well then. Hello," he continued. "Good seeing you. You have a frog on your head." He waved. "Your mother was a cow," he said with a smile. "You are a tall green elephant," he said to someone else.
Lance sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything."
"No," Chris said, grinning. "You shouldn't have. Hello! You have a face that resembles my cousin's ugly dog. Hi!"
Lance rolled his eyes and tried to pretend he didn't know them. "I don't believe this," he muttered.
Chris grinned again, going up behind him and throwing Lance over his own shoulder. "Hello," he continued. "Do you see this boy over my shoulder? Doesn't he have a nice ass?"
"CHRIS!" Lance yelled. "You jerk! I'm going to kill you!"
Chris just laughed. Suddenly, someone said back, "nice ass, yes," in a thick German accent.
Chris laughed so hard he almost dropped Lance on the floor.
"I'm sorry," Chris said. "Seriously. How was I supposed to know that 'nice ass' was the thing that guy would understand?"
Lance put the keycard in their door. "You carried me through an airport."
"JC didn't mind."
"JC didn't have Joey shouting about his ass to perfect strangers." The door opened and they walked in.
"But it's a nice ass!" Chris protested.
Lance threw his bag at him and Chris doubled over as it hit him in the stomach. "Oh, man," Lance said.
Chris looked up. "Oh, wow," he said. "What a dump. Hope you brought shower shoes."
"Shower--what?"
Chris grinned. "For the shower. In case there's bacteria and fungus and shit hanging out on the floor. Unless you trust the maid service. In fact, I'd recommend always wearing at least socks. You never know what could be living in here."
Lance made a face. "Has anyone ever told you how disgusting you are?"
"Not today, no," Chris said.
"You're disgusting," Lance said.
"Thanks," Chris replied, rolling his eyes. "Hey, dude," he said, "there's only one bed."
"Well," Lance said. "Have fun on the couch."
"Hey, who says you get the couch? I'm older. I need more support."
Lance rolled his eyes. "Guess you should've thought about that before carrying me through the airport, then."
Chris guessed so.
At least he got to sleep in front of the TV, he thought. It'd provide noise for him to go to sleep to. Except...
"Chris," Lance mumbled.
Chris grunted. "Eh?"
"Turn off the damn TV."
"Is it keeping you awake? I can turn it down."
"It's not just the noise," Lance said, "it's the light."
"I need the noise," Chris said. "If I turn it off it'll be too quiet."
"Put on your Walkman," Lance said. "Don't you usually do that?"
"Yeah," Chris said, "but the batteries are dead."
Lance sighed. "Use mine, then."
Chris grinned in the dark. "It was yours."
Lance groaned, and Chris heard the rustling of covers. "Come here," he said.
Chris turned off the TV and walked over to the bed. "Did you need a good night ki--" he stopped when Lance pulled him down in front of him. "Um," he said. "Hi."
"Hi," Lance said, pulling the covers over them both. "If I breathe loud enough, will you be able to sleep?"
Chris grinned. "No harm in trying," he said.
Chris woke up with Lance's arm thrown over his stomach.
He smiled to himself and put his hand over Lance's before slipping back to sleep.
"Well, well, well," Chris heard a voice say. "If it isn't Chris and Lance again."
Chris kept his eyes closed and vowed to kill whoever it was as soon as he recognized the voice.
Both voices, he amended, when a second one joined the first. "Again?" the second one said. "You've seen this before? Is there something they haven't been telling us? Don't they realize that once we're big and famous they won't be able to do this sort of thing because cameras will be stuck in the windows and--"
"Fuck off, you two," Chris heard -- and felt -- Lance rumble behind him. "Go harass Joey. We're sleeping."
"Nuh uh," the first one said. "This is great entertainment. You guys got shafted in the bed department, huh? At least your room is as bad as ours. But we got two beds. Whatever happened to the couch?"
"Too different," Chris mumbled. "Lance is a freak and dragged me over here to seduce me."
Lance's arm tightened around Chris' stomach until he found himself short of breath. He coughed a little and Lance said, "and Chris is an ass. Bye guys."
"No," the second one said. "Breakfast time. We decided to have it here. Joey will be in here in a few minutes. Better get up or we'll rack up the room service bill and Lou's gonna blame you guys."
"Lou?" Chris muttered. "Mad? What an unnatural phenomenon."
Chris felt himself being shaken. "C'mon, guys, seriously. Get up," this was the second again.
Chris opened an eye and finally recognized the voices as Justin and JC. Justin, who Chris recongnized as voice number two, was shaking the bed and Chris stuck out a leg to kick him. "How'd you two get in here, anyway?"
Justin grinned brightly. "Perks of a shitty hotel. If you jiggle the knob the right way it opens up. Interesting, huh?"
Lance groaned, and Chris felt a shiver run up his spine. "Chris, didn't that wake you up?"
"You were breathing too loud, snookums," Chris said, grinning. He pulled Lance's arms off his stomach and immediately felt the lack of warmth. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, sitting up. "So," he said, "you think you can keep yourselves occupied long enough for me to wake up?"
"Can't promise a thing," JC said brightly, settling himself on the mess Chris'd made of the couch to watch TV.
The rest of their time in Germany was pretty much a blur of recording and performing to anyone who would let them. Once they started to get a following, they even gave interviews to magazines. Over the next year, they started traveling all over Europe. It was exhausting, but they were all in it together and knew that it would be worth something someday.
Chris and Lance still slept in the same bed every night, even when there was more than one bed, and Chris was sleeping better then he could ever remember.
"Hey, Chris," Lance said one night in Hungary, right before Chris had slipped into slumber.
"Hmm?" Chris asked.
"You ever think this would really happen?" he asked. "I mean, really. This has gotten huge."
Chris grinned and turned to face Lance. "Yeah," he said. "I knew. The minute I heard you sing with us, I knew."
"But you didn't like me."
"I thought you were a dork," Chris admitted. "But you're cool. I like you now."
Lance gave him a wry smile. "Yeah," he said, "sure."
"Hey," Chris said, "I wouldn't sleep with someone I thought was a jerk." He paused. "That. I meant..."
Lance smiled at him. "I know what you meant," he said. "And I think you're a jerk, so what does that say about me?"
"That you're easy," Chris said, grinning. "Seriously," he said. "I like you. You're a great guy. And I'm glad we got signed even though you're a shitty dancer." He winked to show he was kidding.
Lance rolled his eyes. "You really are a jerk, you know that?"
"Yeah," Chris said, "I know."
Later, after Lance had fallen asleep, Chris watched him breathe before lifting his head to kiss him on the cheek and resting his head on Lance's neck to go to sleep himself.
The next morning, instead of being awakened by Justin, JC, and sometimes Joey as they were accustomed -- they'd graduated from jiggling doorknobs to swiping extra keycards, and Chris was proud of them -- Chris was rudely awakened when he dropped on the floor.
He looked up sleepily and rubbed his eyes. "Hey, guys, what happened to being nice?" he asked, annoyed.
"I'm the only one here, Chris."
Chris woke up pretty fast, because oh, shit, that was Lou. He froze. "Um."
"What are you two doing?"
"Sleeping," Chris snapped. He thought it was pretty obvious. "What the fuck's your problem?" He didn't like looking up at Lou from the floor, so he stood up, hands on his hips. He tried to keep his voice down in the hope that Lance wouldn't wake up.
"My problem?" Lou asked. "My problem is that you two are sleeping together like fucking homos even though there are two beds." His voice was a harsh whisper.
"All we're doing is sleeping," Chris said. "Last time I checked, that wasn't illegal."
"It is on my watch," Lou said. "Don't you know what you could ruin by doing...that?"
"We're not doing anything," Chris said. "We're not together, we're not doing anything but sleeping. We still do all the crazy shit you want us to do, this is our room and it shouldn't be your problem."
"Yes," Lou said, "it is. I don't give a shit about what you do in your own house, Kirkpatrick, but anything that screws with this group is going to be a problem. You may be gay, but I will not let you do anything to hurt this group."
Chris almost snorted. "I love this group more than you do, and I actually kind of like the other people in it, too. What we do on our own time is none of your concern," he said.
"It is now," Lou said. "This?" he pointed to the bed, where Lance still appeared to be sleeping. "This is not going to happen again. Justin's mom is coming up today. She'll share his room. You...JC'll room with you. And Joey will come in here to room with Lance. Is that understood?"
Chris scowled. "You can't do that," he said. "We're not doing anything--"
"No," Lou said, smirking. "You're not. Because you two are never rooming together again. If you go against me on this, I will make your life miserable, and I'll start by fining you. And don't try to trick me. I'll be watching you." He stomped out of the room.
Chris sank down to the floor, against the bed, and that was where Justin and JC found him when they came in to wake them up.
"Chris?" JC asked. "What are you already doing awa--" he stopped. "What happened?"
Chris looked up at them, finding it strangely hard to swallow. "I'm. You guys were late coming in today," he said. "And, Lou." He stopped abruptly and stood up, pulling on a pair of pants and changing his shirt. Justin and JC could do nothing but watch. Chris stopped by the bed and ran a hand down Lance's still sleeping face before turning back to the other two. "I'm going for a walk," he said, "and I'm not hungry. I'm..." It was harder to swallow now, so he left the room almost at a run. "I'll be back soon," he said over his shoulder.
Chris skipped the radio interview they had planned for after breakfast, knowing the others would cover for him. Lou would be pissed, but he didn't care.
Lou was pissed, and yelled at him in front of all the other guys, but all he could do was stare at Lance, who was giving him a confused look. When Lou seemed like he was finished, Chris spoke up. "Public humiliation has never really flown with me," he said. "Nice try, though," he added, before walking away.
Lance didn't even know yet, and Chris wasn't sure how that made him feel.
Lance found him packing soon after. "What are you doing?" Lance asked. "What happened today?"
"Lou happened," Chris said miserably. "Didn't he tell you?"
"No," Lance said. Chris didn't reply, and only stuck more clothes into his bag. Lance grabbed his wrist. "Tell me," he said.
"Woke up today on my ass on the floor," Chris said. "JC and Justin didn't wake me up, Lou did. Blew a gasket." Chris knew if he spoke with something that wasn't indifference he'd lose it, and he wasn't sure why. "Said that he didn't like seeing us 'like that' and, basically, wants us to stop rooming together."
"For how long?" Lance asked, eyes wide.
Chris shrugged and put more things in the bag. He didn't know he had that much crap. "As long as he wants."
"Can he do that?" Lance asked.
Chris shrugged again. "Guess so," he said.
"Chris," Lance said, and Chris turned away from his stuff to look at him. Lance pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry," he said, and Chris was strangely remembered of a time so long before. This was different.
"It's not your fault," Chris said, "it's mine more than anything. And, you know, what the hell. I can always bug C."
Lance smiled slightly. Chris knew Lance heard what he hadn't said.
Not the same way I can bug you.
That night, JC looked at him with such big, sad eyes when he walked into the room that he felt like he should go hug JC to cheer him up.
But he didn't.
JC instead hugged him, right before bed, and whispered, "you can turn the TV on if you want to," even though he didn't like noise. He could still sleep with it, though; JC could sleep through anything once he was actually asleep.
Chris offered a small smile, but shook his head and dug through his bag for something to sleep in. He furrowed his brow when he pulled a Walkman out. His smile grew when he held it up to the light.
It was Lance's.
Chris stopped sleeping after that. Night after night, he'd find himself staring up at the ceiling, and no amount of music would help put him to sleep. He finally figured out why he was so sad about Lou splitting them up, but he didn't like to think about it because it made his chest ache the same way it did whenever he saw Lance upset.
He missed Lance.
"Hey," JC said, "I got something for you."
Chris looked away from the TV. "Hmm?" he asked.
JC handed him a stuffed Dalmatian and a cassette tape. Chris looked at it oddly. The dog had a red cape on, and it said "SP" on it. He shook his head with a smile.
"I don't get it," JC said, "but it's from Lance."
"You don't get a lot of things," Chris said. "But. Super Poofu," he said. "It's a. thing."
JC rolled his eyes. "Some kind of thing," he said. "And he said to wait for bed to listen to the tape."
Chris grinned. "Thanks," he said.
JC smiled back at him. "We all wanna see you happy again, man."
Chris looked him sharply, but JC just smiled wider and looked back to the TV.
Later, when they were going to bed, Chris put the tape on.
"I feel like such a dork," Lance's voice said, "but Jayce said you weren't sleeping, and I believe him. You look like hell, dude. So. Um."
Chris almost laughed out loud when he heard rest of the tape, and finally fell asleep, hugging his new dog and listening to the sound of Lance breathing through his headphones.
After dinner the next day, Chris finally caught Lance in the hallway. "Hey," he said, hands behind his back. "Thanks."
Lance blushed. "You weren't sleeping," he said.
"Are you?" Chris asked.
Lance shrugged. "I'm okay."
Chris handed him a stuffed mouse. "So I'm a copycat," he said, "but it's the least I can do."
Lance blinked at it. "That's...big."
Chris shrugged. "Hey," he said, "it was the best I could find."
"Apparently," Lance said. "But really."
Chris hugged him. "Dude," he said, "you breathed into a microphone for an hour and a half so I would sleep better. I wanted to say thanks."
Lance smiled, blushing again enough so that his ears turned red. "You're welcome," he said.
Chris was sleeping better, but he still missed Lance.
A lot.
"Hey," Joey said, cornering him one day. "You don't hate me or anything, do you?"
Chris looked at him in surprise. "What?" he said. "No, of course not, what makes you think that?"
Joey rolled his eyes. "This is about Lance, isn't it."
"I don't hate you, Joe," Chris said honestly, trying to think of what he might've said to make Joey think so.
"I didn't ask to have Lou come find you that day."
"I know," said Chris. "I don't hate you," he said. He thought back over the past few months and winced, remembering a few glares and snide comments. "I just."
Joey quirked an eyebrow. "You are a sad little man," he said.
"I'm older than you," Chris said.
"Yeah, in a few years you won't be so quick to say that, will you?"
Chris frowned. "Hey," he said.
"Hey yourself."
Chris sighed. "Sorry, Joe. It's just."
"I know," Joey said. "If it's any consolation, he misses you too."
Chris was surprised to find himself thinking that it was. "I hate Lou," he sighed. "I hate him, Joey."
"I know," Joey said. "Just, hey. Don't take it out on me? If anything beat up Justin, he could use being taken down a peg or two."
Chris grinned. "Will do," he said, letting Joey pull him into a bear hug. "Just, you know, kick me if I'm too mean, okay?"
Joey winked. "With permission? Of course."
As their tour took off, Chris got used to not having Lance around as much. The sharing of rooms was rotated, but suspiciously enough, Chris never ended up rooming with Lance, and no one wanted to complain. Lou watched them like a hawk. The rules were pretty much unstated and simple; they could goof off, but not too much, and they could do whatever they wanted when cameras were on, because Lou knew they wouldn't do anything he referred to as "too queer" in front of the cameras.
It got to the point where they really stopped spending quite as much time with each other as they had before, and Chris was sure that was exactly what Lou'd had in mind when he pulled Chris away from Lance that morning in Hungary.
Chris still missed him, but he wasn't so sure about what Lance thought anymore. The aching in his chest was almost constant, and he figured out what to associate it with. That didn't make him feel any better.
When they finally returned to Orlando, Chris ate bad Burger King and threw up everything he ate for two days. When he woke up on the floor of his bathroom, it was because someone had opened the door to his apartment (evidently, Lou had decided 26 was, in fact, mature enough for him to move out of their little house and get his own place. The others had followed his lead, despite Lou's protesting). He didn't care if he was being robbed, if he was lucky, he figured, whoever it was would find him and shoot him. He briefly wondered if the door had been locked and then decided he didn't care.
"Chris? Where are you, you little weasel?"
No such luck. Joey's footsteps came closer.
Chris managed a moan before throwing up again. He hadn't been getting anything down, so all he could do was gag and throw up bile and drop down to the floor again.
"Chris? Where have you--oh. Man, you look like hell."
Chris grunted.
"This is so gross," Joey said, flushing the toilet for him. "You sick?"
"No," Chris managed to croak. "I just thought the bathroom floor would be more comfortable than my bed."
"Oh, good," Joey said. "Still sarcastic. You'll probably live."
Chris groaned. "Don't say that," he said. "Did you bring a gun, by any chance?"
Joey laughed. "No, sorry," he said. Chris sighed. "C'mon," Joey said. "Let's get you cleaned up. We've been worried about you."
"Want to die," Chris said, "want to shrivel up and die."
Joey eyed him. "Looks like you've got the shriveling up part down. Sorry I can't help you with the death thing. It would make your fans upset. All four of them."
Chris grunted. "Not fair kickin' a man when he's down. And I have eight fans. My sisters."
"Oh, right," Joey said. "Seven, then."
Chris looked up at him. "Eh?"
Joey grinned. "Taylor likes Justin."
Chris dropped his head again. "Eh."
Joey laughed again and picked him up. "Man," he said, "What happened?"
"I hate Burger King," Chris said. "Whoppers suck."
Joey wrinkled his nose. "Food poisoning, then? You reek."
"You are such a nice guy," Chris said. "Why'd you show up?"
"Well, because we were kinda worried when you didn't answer your phone. Or call any of us within the first five minutes. I drew the short straw."
"Again," Chris said, "I am amazed by your caring."
Joey grinned down at him before dumping him in the bed. "Lance is on his way over," he said. "I'll make you food."
"Can't eat food," Chris groaned. He perked up at the thought of Lance, though.
Joey winked. "You'll eat my food."
Chris sighed. "Come on, man," he said. "All I can do is puke or shit."
"So pleasant," Joey said, "really."
When Lance showed up, Chris managed a weak smile. "Hey," he said. "Has Super Poofu come to save me from Joey and the evil King of Burgers?"
Lance frowned at him. "What?"
Chris pointed a finger at him. "If we ever get to endorse a fast food company," he said. "It's McDonald's."
"Um," Lance said. "What was that?"
"He ate a bad burger, or something," Joey called from the other room. "Evidently."
Lance wrinkled his nose. "Ew," he said.
"I love you all," Chris said. "Really. Hearts and flowers to all for your sympathy."
"Oh, stop," Lance said. "You really are a jerk." He sat down next to Chris and started rubbing his back.
"'ma mouse," Chris said, settling his head down to go back to sleep.
Lance shook his head. "Yeah, yeah," he said, "Mighty Mouse."
Chris nodded before dozing off. "And don't you forget it."
"You," Lance said, "are one delirious freak when you're sick."
Chris cracked an eye open. "What?"
"Told you," Joey said, "told you he wouldn't even remember."
"What, what'd I do?" Chris asked, waking up. "Did I say something? What?"
Lance pushed his shoulders back down. "Seems you're running a fever, too, and we tried to get you to wake up. And you did. We thought."
Joey shook his head. "Seriously, dude. I offered you soup and you went ballistic."
"I'm sick," Chris protested. "Don't want food."
"Yeah, well," Joey said, "we don't want you dead."
Chris sighed. "What else did I do?" Joey sighed and presented a band-aid covered finger. Chris frowned and looked to Lance. "Translation?"
"You bit Joey when he sat next to me," Lance said flatly.
"Bye," Chris called out weakly as Joey left later that day. "And, you know, sorry about the whole biting thing."
"Yeah, yeah," Joey said. "You're such a freak."
"Mm," Chris said, "takes one to know one."
Lance shook his head. "You are a freak, you realize this, right?" he asked.
Chris shrugged. "You wouldn't have me any other way."
"Nah," Lance said, "you're right. I wouldn't."
Chris hated being pampered, and he made sure Lance knew it. "I don't need you to feed me," he said.
Lance sighed. "I know," he said. "Consider it a favor to me. C'mon. It's a cheap thrill. The least you can do to repay me for taking care of you when no one else wants to be around you."
"Thanks," Chris said, but opened his mouth.
After Chris had eaten and taken a shower, Lance laid in the bed next to him. "Scoot over."
Chris scooted. "You're not afraid of getting sick?"
"Nah," Lance said. "Fever broke. I figure you're almost better."
Chris smiled and curled into Lance's side. "Kay," he said. Lance grinned and put his arm around Chris' shoulder. "Missed you," Chris said softly.
Lance squeezed his shoulder and kissed the side of his head. "Yeah," he said. "Me too."
"We come bearing fun," Justin called out.
Chris lifted his head from where it was resting on Lance's chest. He'd slept better than he had in more than a year. Hearing who it was, he put his head back down with a sigh and closed his eyes again.
"Well, hey!" JC's voice was bright. "Look what we have here. Reunited at last."
"Hmm?" Chris opened an eye.
JC's grin was bright enough to match his voice. "We missed seeing this as much as you guys missed doing it, I bet."
Chris stretched an arm out over Lance's stomach. "Not possible," he grunted.
Justin smiled. "So I guess this means you're feeling better? Joey said you were puking all over the place."
"I made it to the bathroom every time," Chris said.
"He also said you bit him," JC said.
Chris shrugged. "Plead insanity," he said, "I have no recollection of doing it. He probably deserved it."
"Chris," Lance finally spoke up, "he sat down next to me and you bit him. He didn't deserve it."
JC laughed. "Oh, man," he said. "Fits of jealously. I love it."
Chris rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be here," he said.
JC held up his hands. "All right, all right. So since things are the way they should be, does this mean you're going to yell at Lance for practicing more than he sleeps?"
"JC!"
JC turned to Lance. "What?"
Chris turned to Lance too. "You're practicing the dancing again?"
"Joey said he's always either working or dancing," Justin said with a shrug.
"I hate y'all," Lance said. "Really. I do."
"No you don't," JC said.
Chris poked Lance in the side. "I'll yell at you later," he said. Lance rolled his eyes. Chris turned back to JC. "What was this about fun?"
JC smiled again. "I don't know what Justin brought, but I have his Star Search tape."
"JC!" Justin shrieked. "You asshole!" JC jumped up, laughing.
Chris watched them chase each other around the room. "That works," he said. Lance nodded. "So what's this about you dancing so much again?"
Lance blushed. "They're full of shit," he said. "I'm not doing that much."
"Lance," Chris said, "you're fine. C'mon."
"It's for me, not you," Lance said. "Leave me alone about it."
Chris crossed his arms over his chest and clicked his tongue, but was otherwise silent.
JC's giggles broke through their conversation. "I swear, J," he said, "I don't have it. Chill. I brought Men in Black. I swear!"
Chris shook his head. "You think they'd even notice if we left?"
"Probably not," Lance said.
Chris started to suspect something more was going on than a visit when Lance went to the bathroom and JC scooted closer to him. "So," JC said, "are you guys, like, together, or whatever, yet?"
"What?" Chris asked. "No, no. We're. Friends. We've always been--what gives you that idea?"
JC shrugged. "Consider it something for the suggestion box."
"What the--I don't have a suggestion box!"
JC grinned and jumped up to steal food for them from Chris' cabinet.
Chris watched as Justin made his way closer. "Y'all are lucky Lance is taking a fuck of a long time in that bathroom," he said.
Justin grinned. "Hey," he said, "gotta give us points for trying." He glanced towards the kitchen before leaning over to whisper in Chris' ear. "Seriously?" he said. "Jayce has been pulling for this ever since he saw you two sleeping together. Well, I mean."
"I know what you mean," Chris said, rolling his eyes. "And JC needs a hobby."
"You oughta get together with Lance soon," Justin said, "because I don't know how much longer he can last."
"JC?"
"Yes," Justin said, rolling his eyes.
"Excuse me," Chris said, "but I'm sorry for considering my own feelings ahead of JC's before jumping into a relationship."
"Relationship with who?" Joey asked as he walked in the door. "Lance?"
"Oh, God," Chris said. "How'd you--"
"JC and Justin left the door unlocked for me," he said. "What's this about a relationship? Is there one? Because it's about time you did it."
"Bout time he what?" Lance asked, coming out of the bathroom.
Chris saw JC coming in from the kitchen and thought it might be a good time to start beating himself over the head with a frying pan.
Three months later, and Lance was still sleeping in the same bed at night with Chris.
Six months later, and he wasn't.
Chris couldn't pinpoint the exact time, but he figured the time they'd been apart had something to do with it. Sometime, they'd stopped really communicating, and even when they were around each other, Chris didn't feel right. He wasn't sleeping as well anymore, either. Lou was clueless the whole time; he didn't really care what Chris did in his apartment.
It was all right, Chris figured, Lance had his company to work with and everything, he really wanted Meredith to do well in the business, and Chris had often complained that Lance was stretching himself too thin, with the dancing and the company and going out with Joey and, well, everything, and one night, Chris didn't remember when, Lance didn't come back. Chris figured it was probably his fault.
It wasn't like he moved out; they didn't live together, Lance just slept there. It seemed odd to everyone but them.
Chris felt that ache in his chest most of the time, now, but he kept it deep where no one could see it, and waited for Lance to come back.
It made Chris sad, sometimes, the way after all this time, Lance still didn't think he was good enough. He knew that was the reasoning for it, even if Lance would never admit it. He had a feeling that was behind the company and the dancing and everything. The way Chris saw it, Lance figured that if Lance threw himself into enough things, something would work.
Chris didn't let himself think that if Lance threw himself into Chris, that would work out pretty well too.
Lance had gone to New York with Joey to bring in 1999, and picked up a cold that gradually got worse and never got better. He practiced more than ever for the tour, and Chris made himself stop thinking about anything but the tour and how much he really hated the stunts in the air.
JC knocked on his door the night the tour kicked off, smiling apologetically and asking if he could use Chris' shower because his room didn't have hot water, and since Chris was right next door...
Chris let him in, and sat back to watch TV.
"Hey," JC said, after he was done, "sorry you and Lance can't sleep together anymore. Or. whatever."
"Yeah," Chris said, "haven't done that for a few months."
JC looked surprised. "Really?"
Chris shrugged. "Yeah," he said.
"Why?"
Chris shrugged. "Dunno," he said. His chest started aching. "Just. I guess he stopped wanting to."
"Oh," JC said quietly. "I. Sorry."
Chris shrugged. "S'ok," he said, swallowing past the lump in his throat and refusing to look away from the TV. "S'ok," he repeated.
"Hmm," JC hummed. "Wanna hang out? I'm not tired anymore."
Chris smiled. "You don't have to take care of me, JC," he said.
"I know," JC said. "You wanna talk about it?"
Chris stared at the TV and thought about Joey and Lance talking about hanging out after the show. "No," he said.
It took Chris a while to figure out how sick Lance was getting.
It took everyone a while, really. Lance didn't like advertising it, he never liked showing any weakness.
Chris figured, though, that it was hard to hide hacking a cough into the microphone for 20,000 people to hear.
"You don't look too hot," Joey said after the show, sitting on the back of the chair next to the couch Lance was lying on.
"That's funny," Lance said. "Because I feel like a sex symbol. A hot, sexy sex symbol."
"Generally," Chris said, "the purpose of being a sex symbol is to be sexy." He couldn't help grinning to himself as he walked his energy off.
"Really, Chris?" Lance asked. "Really? Because, I mean, could you like, give me tips or something? Because we all know you're the sexiest of us all."
"Bite me," Chris said, but he was still grinning. "Don't think you're going to get my help now."
"Darn," Lance said. "Excuse me while I try to hide my disappointment."
Not very convincing if you're smiling too, Chris thought. "Hey," he whined out loud. "I'm sexy. You're mean."
"I'm sorry, Chris," Lance muttered, rolling his eyes. "My deepest apologies."
"Do you think I'm sexy?"
Lance rolled his eyes again, this time throwing an arm over them. "Chris--"
"Do you think I'm sexy?" Chris demanded.
"You know what--"
"Say it, dammit!"
Lance rolled his eyes one more time. "Yes, Chris," he said, his voice droll. Joey grinned at him. "You are the sexiest guy in the world."
Chris turned to Joey. "You hear that?" he crowed. "He thinks I'm sexy!"
Lance knocked on his door after the show. "Hey," he said, letting himself in.
Chris sat up immediately. "Hey," he said.
Lance stood in the doorway for a few minutes, hitting his toe on the ground. "I'm sorry for just...not coming by anymore," he said. "I shoulda talked to you, or something."
Chris shrugged. "S'ok," he said, "I figured it out soon enough." Lance frowned at that, but Chris ignored him. "How you feeling?" he asked.
Lance shrugged. "I'm fine," he said.
"Yeah, hey," Chris said, "remember that time I puked my guts out over a Whopper?"
"Of course," Lance said. "How could anyone forget?"
"I was fine then, too," Chris said flatly.
Lance sighed and sat down.
Chris grinned. "My turn," he said.
Chris frowned. Lance was muttering in his sleep, and his face was growing hotter with fever.
"Chris," Lance whispered.
"Hey," Chris said, "I'm right here."
"I don't...come back."
Chris frowned. "I'm right here, buddy. What's wrong?"
"Chris," Lance said again.
There was no way in hell Lance was going to be able to do Summer Jam the next day. Chris resolved to talk to Lou as soon as he got up. "What's--"
"Come back," Lance said. "I miss you."
"I miss you too," Chris said, unexpected tears forming in his eyes. He didn't bother rubbing them away. "I miss you too."
Chris pushed through the throngs of people, his fists clenched, lips in a tight line. His eyes dared anyone to get in his way.
"There you are," Justin said. "Where have you--" he stopped. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"Fine," Chris said shortly, ignoring the technician that scurried over to put a microphone on him. "When are we on?"
"In ten," Justin said. "Chris--"
Chris looked around. "Where's Lance?" he asked.
Justin faltered. "Um, I had to wait for you to show up, so I don't...I'm not sure if--"
Chris eyed him. "What happened?"
"Um. Lance is, ahh, not feeling very well. At all."
"Where is he, Justin?"
Justin frowned. "Uh," he looked around. "With Johnny. Over there."
Chris looked to find Johnny crouched down, talking to Lance, who had his head in his hands. Joey and JC stood by nervously, JC wringing his hands and Joey looking upset because he couldn't figure out what to do. Chris' chest started to hurt again, but he was too angry to think about it.
"Fuck," he said. "I'm going to fucking kill that bastard."
Justin's eyes widened. "Who? Johnny? Chris? What's--" but Chris had already darted over to Lance, Justin trailing behind him.
"Chris," Johnny said. "Chris, he doesn't--"
"Shut up, Johnny," Chris said, knowing Johnny wasn't doing anything wrong but snapping at him anyway. "Lance," he said, "Lance, buddy, it's me. Hey."
Lance lifted his head, and Chris' chest tightened again when he saw that it was flushed with fever. His eyes were red-rimmed. "Chris?" he whispered.
"It's me," Chris said. "Sh, you're gonna be okay," he said.
Lance pressed his face into Chris' collarbone. "I gotta do this, Chris," he said. "I have to...I can't give up."
"I know," Chris said, rubbing his back. "I know."
"But," Lance said, "I don't want to. I don't know if I can."
"I know," Chris said again. "Just three songs."
"Three," Lance repeated.
"Right, and then you'll be fine."
"Fine," Lance echoed.
"Yeah," Chris said. "we'll have some time off for you to get better."
"Okay," Lance said. "Three songs. I can do this."
"You can," Chris said with a grin. "You're Lance, after all. Super Poofu."
"Yeah," Lance said softly. "Mighty Mouse." He stood up and hugged him. "Thanks, Chris."
Chris smiled half-heartedly. "Yeah," he said. He watched Lance walk away.
Justin walked up behind him, smirking. "Hey," he said.
Chris turned around. "What?" he snapped.
"Nothin'," Justin said brightly. "I just think it's funny how you come in here all Neanderthal-like but then you're all of a sudden sweet-talkin' Lance."
"Fuck off."
"Ah, but that comment only further proves my point, now doesn't it?"
Chris rolled his eyes. "Lou's a bastard," he said.
"I know this," Justin said, "but?"
Chris sighed. "After all this time, he's still checking up on Lance and me. I don't get it. He knew Lance spent the night in my room. I was just talking to him, y'know. And I tried to get him to let Lance skip this, but...you know Lou."
"Yeah," Justin said. "I do."