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Finally JC craned his neck to look over the heads of the people that he passed, politely murmuring apologies as he pushed through the crowd in the arena. He knew what to look for, yet wasn't entirely certain; a couple of years could not change a person that much, but the one he sought had changed himself enough over time that JC could not be sure of much as far as he was concerned. He finally caught a glimpse of a familiar posture, a nodding gesture, and there was no mistaking it for anyone else. His face breaking into a grin, he stumbled over his own feet, breaking into a jog to reach his target before he lost sight of it again. "Lance!" The name alone, yelled across an open square such as this one, would have stirred a frenzy only a few years earlier. As it was, only a few heads turned in annoyance, their conversations interrupted by a rude stranger's cry. Lance, too, turned from his current companion as his eyes searched the crowd for the person who had called his name. His eyes widened. "JC?" Not bothering to respond, JC simply pulled the younger man into a tight embrace, feeling the gesture returned enthusiastically, both men almost lifting the other from the ground. Two years, it had been; over two years of estrangement, so long that JC could not remember who had lost touch with whom. He inhaled, taking in the scent of Lance's sporty -- expensive, of course -- cologne. They had often joked about it in the past; Lance liked the nice things, and since he could afford it, all the better. So unlike JC, who still considered Calvin Klein a splurge, whether he could afford it or not. Still, the scent reminded JC of other times; of group prayers and comforting embraces, of a shared bus and quick naps on airport floors. It reminded him of a night he'd tried so hard to forget for so long, when the clear scent of that cologne was clouded by a heady musk which was forever associated in JC's mind with the image of Lance's face, flushed with emotion, heavy-lidded with intoxication and what he feared -- hoped -- was passion. He closed his eyes and tried again to forget, tried not to dwell on the fact that he once again held this man in his arms, and still, after two years, did not want to let go. He forced himself to pull back, meeting Lance's own wide grin, and examined his friend closely. The few extra years of stress and pressure had not yet begun to take their toll upon his still youthful complexion and demeanor. Excitement at seeing JC after all this time was clear in his eyes, and they sparkled with the enthusiasm JC had missed so much. The flash of gums and dimple in his wide grin made the effect that much more prominent; even in his preppy blazer and shirt, milling around the area for purely professional purposes, Lance somewhat resembled a kid at the county fair. "How the hell have you been, man?" he asked, holding Lance at arm's length. "Dude, I haven't seen you in forever!" Lance rolled his eyes at him, laughing. "Still using 'dude'," he observed. "My God, JC, you make me feel like it was just yesterday." He shrugged at the older man. "I'm doin' great. Right now I was just wandering around, watching the acts, scoping out some new talent." JC nodded in response. "Yeah, that's what your mom told me." Lance raised an eyebrow. "You saw my mom already? Wow, looks like you've been making the rounds." He grinned again. "And how about you? Mr. 'I got a Grammy nod for that song on the Sleeping Devil soundtrack'? You sound like life's going pretty good for you, too." JC waved dismissively. "I'm only nominated, man; we'll see if I win it or not. And you, with Meredith getting, what? Three Country Music Awards?" "Two," Lance corrected, nodding slightly. "She was nominated for three, but she lost the Album of the Year one. But yeah, we're pretty happy about that," he said, charitably humble, but his pride for his protegé showed in his eyes. "Oh, please; sign me up for the Mutual Appreciation Society," JC responded with another smile, finally moving to drop his hands from Lance's shoulders; he hadn't realized that he'd held on for so long. But then, pausing, he squeezed slightly, feeling firm muscle give beneath his fingers before he let go. "Lance," he began knowingly. "You've been working out, haven't you?" Taking Lance in bit more closely, JC could now see that that much was obvious; the other man's already broad shoulders were even more solid now, his waist narrowed and trim beneath his jacket. Lance grinned. "I figured I'd been putting it off long enough; once I didn't have touring as an excuse and everything, it just made sense to finally get down to work and do it. Besides," he added. "I like the way it makes me feel. Which you oughta know." JC laughed, nodding emphatically. "I did tell you, you know, for the longest time. So," he asked, glancing about the venue, "how are things with Ryan these days? You two planning to tie the knot anytime soon?" Lance shrugged and made a show of grimacing, but not before JC saw a dark look flit across his face. He narrowed his eyes slightly as Lance responded. "Oh, that didn't really work out," Lance told him, laughing lightly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. He shrugged again, somewhat helplessly. "We actually called it quits about six months ago." "I'm sorry," JC said, tilting his head in concern. He reached out and briefly laid his hand upon Lance's shoulder, careful not to let it linger this time, but Lance shook his head reassuringly. "No, no... it's okay, really. It, um... turns out that he wasn't exactly..." Lance gave a wry smile. "Faithful. So...." Yet another shrug. "You know how that goes. I told him he should leave." He paused, biting his lip. "Well, actually, I threw his clothes out the back door and told him to get the fuck out of town before I filed a restraining order against him." He hunched his shoulders slightly as if to ask what one could do, and glanced away, sensing JC's discomfort. "Shit.... How long had that been going on?" JC asked, his voice hushed, eyes darting around to ensure that the conversation was being unheard. Lance's eyes clouded over slightly. "Jace..." he warned, his face suddenly closed, and JC knew that he'd need to get them both out of there if they were going to discuss this any further. "Does that tone mean 'not here', or 'not ever'?" Lance stared at him for a long moment before sighing and glancing away again, his gaze sweeping over the crowd. "Let's go get a drink, okay?" JC followed him as he strode out of the arena. "You know, that sounds like a great idea." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "So, I see you finally stopped dyeing the hair," JC pointed out, gesturing to the now dark honey-colored hair haphazardly gelled into unruliness, cropped short for ease of management. Lance raised an eyebrow at him as he slowly nodded. "A wise man once told me I should go with my natural color." JC ducked his head, grinning shyly. "I only said the less highlights the better." "Well, none is less, right? And," Lance leaned forward on his elbows. "Who said you were the wise man?" JC leaned forward himself, amused. "Point taken." He tilted his head in curious scrutiny of his friend for a moment, neither saying a word. "Small talk aside, was there anything else you wanted to talk about?" he asked gently. "I'm all ears, you know. It doesn't matter how long it's been." Lance smirked. "That means you wanna know what happened with Ryan." "Only if you wanna talk about it; but yeah, I'm a little curious as to what could've ended a three-year long relationship when I thought you were so happy with him." "You first. What's the story of your love life?" JC shrugged, then proceeded to study the table top as he thought. "You know those dramas where a person goes through their whole life having meaningless relationships because they're searching for that one beacon of hope that'll save them from themselves?" Lance nodded appreciatively. "Deep, but yeah." "Well," JC pointed a thumb at himself. "I'm beginning to think that's my story." "Oh, JC," Lance said sadly, frowning at him. "It can't be that bad." "No, seriously, now," JC insisted. "I couldn't make it work with Bobbie, I couldn't make it work with Drew, and I couldn't make it work with Cheryl. And somehow," he rolled his eyes, "the countless dates in between were pretty unfulfilling, too." Lance took JC's hand and squeezed it comfortingly. "I'm sorry," he said. "But you know, maybe now that you know what you're doing wrong, you can start figuring out how to make it right." JC squeezed back before pulling his hand away; Lance's statement was altogether too true. He changed the subject. "And you?" Lance sat back at that, taking his beer with him for a long swig before setting it down gingerly on the table between them. "Well, just think of your typical soap opera; I started working late, Ryan started going to clubs and having one night stands. There's my story." He finished the rest of his bottle and folded his arms, staring at JC expectantly. "I am sorry about that, Lance," JC repeated, then paused. "How'd you find out? If I may ask," he added, apologetically. Lance shrugged again, pursing his lips. He stared out of the window as he spoke. "He never had reason to carry condoms on him for two years, so imagine my surprise when I found one in his jeans one night," he said softly, then glanced furtively in JC's direction. "Oh..." JC shook his head, sliding his fingers across the table to brush Lance's own. "That's... I..." He shook his head again, frustrated at not knowing what to say. "I should be grateful, you know," Lance went on. "'Cause at least he was safe when he wasn't with me." His expression seemed to crumble for a moment before he regained control of himself. "And that only really got to me because then I felt the need to go get tested for HIV and everything. Which," he added, "so far, I'm coming up negative. But still." "You deserve so much better," JC murmured in disbelief, wondering why he hadn't been told about something so major. Lance nodded vigorously. "I know," he agreed. "I know. I'm just... trying to get past it." JC gave him a sympathetic smile. "How successful have you been?" "Mmmm..." Lance paused to consider. "Pretty good, I think. You know, once I started having one night stands of my own, I started to see the appeal." "You did not." Lance grinned. "No, I didn't. I think I'm past the 'rebound sex' phase, anyway." JC raised his eyebrows. "What, you mean you're ready to start dating again?" Lance laughed at that, his soft chuckle making JC's own smile spread. "Maybe. I haven't seen anyone. Haven't been looking really, I guess. I figure anyone good is gonna come to me." "You just don't think about it." JC posed the question more as a statement than anything else. "No, not really," Lance admitted, smiling more easily now. JC stared at Lance for a long moment over his beer, taking in his unchanging features, his easy posture, his constantly roaming eyes. "Why didn't we ever try to make it work, you and me?" he asked. Lance glanced back up at him, alarmed, and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?" JC gestured between the two of them. "You and me. Together. Why didn't we try to make it work? Why didn't we ever give it a shot? Do you know?" Lance tucked in his chin, swirling the dregs in his bottle gently. "Where are you coming up with this stuff, JC? That was... God, that was ages ago. That was one night. We agreed--" "Yeah, we agreed, and did you ever think we might've been wrong back then?" JC pressed for an answer. "You don't ever wonder what might've happened if we didn't?" Lance shook his head slowly, leaning back in the chair. "No, JC, I--" "You never wonder what would've happened if we wouldn't have decided to pretend that night in Alabama never happened?" A smile tugged at the corner of Lance's lips. "You don't even remember what city it was in." "That's not important," JC insisted. "I didn't ask you why you kissed me that night, and you didn't ask me why I kissed you back. And when I woke up with you in my arms--" "JC--" "--And you told me it that it wasn't the drugs, and it wasn't the alcohol, and that you really meant that kiss..." JC raked his fingers through his hair, leaning closer still towards the younger man. Lance steadfastly averted his gaze, staring with great fascination at the empty bottle before him. "And yet you said we should forget about it. And I never asked you why you said that, either. But now I am. Now I wanna know why. And I wanna know if you ever think about that night, and what we did, and what we could've done. And if you wake up remembering my arms around you, and--" he glanced around furtively before lowering his voice-- "if you can still feel and taste and smell the way we were that night, and wonder what if we hadn't given that up." He had to know because he had wondered. He had wanted to know what might have become of them if they had continued on. There had been no sex that night, but not for lack of want; as eager as JC had been, he would not allow things to progress that far. Lance pushed his bottle away from him and braced his hands against the table's edge. "JC, we should go." JC reached out to stop him, placing his hand upon the younger man's. "Tell me you never think about it. Just tell me you never think about it and I won't bring it up again." He removed his hand in a gesture of surrender. "I promise. Not a word." Lance continued to look down, watching his hand where JC's own had laid only a moment before. After a long moment he huffed a sigh and raised his head to turn defiant eyes upon JC's, blazing emerald to passionate blue. "Is that why you came to see me?" he asked quietly, his voice betraying none of the intensity his gaze held. He sounded defeated. "You... what? You wanted to try to start something? I don't get it; you knew me and Ryan were together, you didn't know we'd broken up. Why... why did you come here?" It was JC's turn, finally, to shrug. "I didn't come here looking for a second chance. I wanted... I wanted closure. I thought if I maybe saw you again, saw how happy you were with him and how you didn't need me or miss me or... anything... that I could maybe move on, really forget that night the way I promised I would back then. I would never have asked you this if you were still with Ryan, but now that you're not, I need to know." He met Lance's gaze, intensity pitted against intensity. "You didn't answer my question." "That's 'cause I'm not ready to answer it yet," Lance responded truthfully. JC nodded slowly. "That's okay," he told Lance. "I'll wait; we don't have to talk about it anymore yet." Pushing his own beer away, he sat back himself. "Did you still wanna go? Or did you just want me to go?" "Let you go after I haven't seen you for two years?" Lance asked. "Don't even think about it. I wanted take you back to my place." "A date?" Lance barked a laugh as he stood, leaving a bill on the table. "Don't push your luck, JC." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Lance's sprawling Mississippi home exuded a far more friendly, familiar atmosphere now than it had the last time JC had been there; back when it was still newly-constructed and everything had just been moved in. Now that it had truly been lived in -- not only on quick stops while they broke from the tour, but truly inhabited by people -- it seemed to announce that fact to the outside world more than a freshly cut lawn and a prominently-placed bug zapper ever could. Lance tossed his keys on the ledge by the door in the foyer as he let them both in. "Living room," he said, gesturing in its general direction. "But you probably remember that. Go ahead and have a seat." He headed for the kitchen and began to rummage around. "Can I get you anything?" he called. "Coffee? I'm making some for myself." JC wandered into the room he remembered, noting its lack of ornamentation as he glanced around and sat down on the plush couch opposite the entertainment unit. "No, I'm fine," he called. "Shouldn't there be more stuff in here? I seem to remember more stuff, I dunno." In a moment Lance appeared at the doorway, holding a mug in both hands. "It doesn't look lived in on the inside, does it?" he voiced JC's unspoken question, as he sat on the cushion next to the older man. "Well, I wasn't gonna say that exactly, but no, it doesn't." Lance gave him a rueful grin. "Ryan took a lot of things with him," he confessed. "And..." he sighed. "I got rid of a lot of the other stuff when he left. I guess it reminded me too much of him." There it was again; that lighthearted tone that belied the lost, sad look in his eyes. JC watched him closely. "Are you sure you're over him?" Lance's face took on a slightly frustrated expression. "I am," he insisted. "I am; I don't miss him, it just... hurts to think about what he did. Can't I be over him and hurt at the same time?" "Of course you can," JC assured him. "I just wish I could've been there for you. I mean, why did we drift apart, Lance?" he asked abruptly, turning eyes that burned intensely upon the other man. "We were so close for so long, and our friendship could've survived the distance, the group breaking up... we could've kept it going. Why didn't we? Why didn't we try harder?" Lance shook his head and turned away. "It was me, Jace," he said quietly, setting his mug down. "I'm the one who didn't... I'm the one who didn't call, who cut it short when you called me, who didn't tell you when things were happening in my life. I cut myself off. I did it to myself." "Why?" There was so many other uncertainties behind that single question. He was met with yet another shrug. "It was so weird... like being with Ryan was a dream or something. It was like I knew somehow that it was too good to be true and one day I'd wake up and it'd all be over. And I just... for some reason I didn't want to involve you. Or anyone; I didn't keep in touch with the other guys, either. I must've known, deep down. I must've known there was something not right about it all; I can't explain it. And I almost feel like it worked out perfectly because now when I wanna forget the past two years I can just block it out without losing any memories of you guys, you know?" JC let the issue drop for the moment, and pursued instead something else that Lance had said. "So you're not keeping up with the other guys?" he asked. "No... what's up with them? Do you know? I mean, I care, I just... I don't have an excuse; just tell me how they are." He gave JC an apologetic smile, unnecessarily so. JC understood what he meant. "Well, I'm sure you know all about Justin--" "No," Lance interrupted him. "I mean, yeah, I see him on MTV, I hear him on the radio, I've seen the magazine spreads--" "Do you have his CD?" JC questioned, a smile playing about his lips. Lance grinned as he reached out over the coffee table, pushing aside a few assorted decorative magazines, and pulled out a jewel case featuring Justin's pensive face. "How could I resist?" Tossing it back on to the heap, he continued. "But we know how worthless that all is. How is Justin doing? I mean really?" JC sighed, blowing the air out in a puff of breath he'd been holding in the pockets of his cheeks. "He's about ready to crack, Lance," he admitted. Lance simply nodded. "I'm surprised he made it this long," he said simply. "If it's not the pressure, or the tabloids, or the partying, or troubles with Britney, it's something else, you know? He's just burning out so fast these days." "Does he know that?" Lance asked softly. JC nodded. "I think he finally does." Lance retrieved his mug and drank from it gingerly. "Well, he's better off than he was when he was with us, then." He gestured at JC with the mug. "What about Joey and Chris?" JC shrugged. "Joey's workin'. Chris is workin'. You might hear from Joey in a bit when his movie premieres, 'cause I'm sure he'll want you there. And Chris... he's taking it easy right now. You didn't hear Dani's pregnant now, did you?" Lance simply shook his head, wide-eyed now. "Yeah," JC confirmed. "Due in November. Hey, um..." he paused uneasily, watching Lance carefully for his reaction. "I hate to bring it up, but weren't you guys thinking of adopting maybe? What happened to that?" He cringed when Lance visibly stiffened and was about to take back the question when the younger man cleared his throat to answer him. "We were gonna apply at the end of the year," he began quietly, "'cause it takes such a long time, and we were actually prepared to move if the agencies here gave us a hard time. I just figured I'd be settled enough with FreeLance and everything by then. And then all the hoopla with *NSYNC is so over, which is good. But I think that was just one more thing with us that... you know, I really wanted, and he was just going along with." His voice raised at the end of his statement as though it were a question, his eyes downcast once more. "It's just one of those things where I'd do it myself, I want a family so badly; but I don't wanna raise a kid on my own, Jace." He sighed and set down his mug again. "But whatever. Who's to say Ryan would've made a good dad, anyway?" JC tilted his head until he drew Lance's gaze back to his own. "I think he probably would've sucked," he cracked, enjoying the way Lance fought to keep from smiling, and lost. "Okay, now you're just being mean," Lance chastised him. "Me and Ryan had a lot of good times." "So did you and me," JC pointed out. "Alabama, Lance. Do you ever think about it?" Lance rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "Have you ever been patient?" "Hey," JC protested. "I'm patient. I could out-wait a glacier. I'd just be checking on it every five minutes, is all." He grinned wickedly at that, glad to see Lance return the expression. Lance sighed and turned to face him more fully, finally meeting his gaze. "I think about it, okay? I used to think about it a lot back when it first happened, and then I got over it. I thought I got over it; I dunno. I tried not to think about it when I was with Ryan. I never really had any problems; I just thought--" he threw up his hands in frustration-- "you know. Your first real crush stays with you, right? I thought that's all it was." "And now?" JC prodded gently. "Now, it's..." Lance sighed. "JC, you can't just pop back into my life with all these 'what ifs' and expect me to..." he trailed off, seemingly unsure as to what the problem was exactly. "I'm thinking about it right now," he continued, so softly that JC had to strain to hear him. "Ever since you brought it up, I've been...." Pursing his lips, he absently stroked the back of JC's hand where it lay on the couch next to him. "I don't know why we didn't, JC. I don't know why I walked away. I don't know... anything right now, and I think," he paused, a smile starting. "I think you being here is fucking up everything I thought I knew." He lifted JC's hand and entwined their fingers, his eyes asking for something his mouth could not yet say. JC slid forward on the couch until his knees brushed Lance's. Reaching out to him, he pulled Lance into a hug, this one tender rather than salutary; emotional and filled with years of longing and the hope of fulfillment. He felt Lance's breath shudder against the side of his neck, felt Lance's lips brush damply against the skin there as they held each other, and prayed that Lance had known what he was talking about when he'd said he was not on the rebound. He pulled back, lifting a hand to caress Lance's face, brushing a thumb over the cheekbone, seeing golden green eyes glitter with a want he hadn't seen in years. "I can stay in town for the rest of the week," he murmured, watching the path his thumb left over Lance's skin, feeling Lance's eyelashes tickle his index finger where it rested by his eye. "Can you stay longer?" The question was hushed, even as Lance drew nearer. Their bodies inhabited the same space, their breath mingling between them. The younger man's hands came up to touch JC lightly about the forearms, the biceps, the shoulders, as though he were afraid that a heavier touch would shatter the delicate image before him and leave him in solitude. "I can stay longer, yeah," JC breathed, no longer certain of the question, only focusing on the green irises that bore into him, and the too-perfect skin, and the moist lips too-invitingly parted and too, too close to his own. "I'll stay as long as you want me to." He met Lance halfway, his tongue brushing past Lance's teeth and touching the younger man's tongue between them, tasting warmth and coffee, two creams. He inhaled that damned upscale cologne, and traced his fingers over slight stubble as he moaned softly, rambled incoherently, Lance's fingers tugging gently on his hair. "I've wanted to do this..." Another kiss, a peck, a faint nuzzle against Lance's cheek. "...for so long... and I dreamed I would just be able to say it to you one day..." He trailed kisses along Lance's jawline, pressing softly against his ear, nipping gently at his earlobe, and this time Lance echoed his moan. JC was too aware that he could be taking advantage of a vulnerability here, much like the one he'd refused to exploit that night in Alabama. Still, he forged ahead; he could not wait forever. Not any more. "...How many times I wanted to tell you to forget the damn agreement, forget everything and just let us be, see where we could go with this..." he dipped his head and dropped a kiss at the hollow of Lance's throat, feeling his hair rub against the other's chin. "I never thought I'd have a chance," he blurted, whispering hoarsely, suddenly rendered emotional at the knowledge that he was only lucky, that had fate not been so kind to him he could very well be on a flight back to Florida, alone, leaving Lance and his boyfriend to their happy home. Lance cupped JC's face in both hands, pulling him up to gaze into his eyes again. "JC..." he sighed, watching him with what seemed to be new-found wonder, as though seeing JC for the first time. JC hoped that look meant that he was wanted, truly wanted and desired, despite what his uncertainties told him. "Yeah?" "Shhhh," the other whispered, the corner of his mouth turning up in a tender smile as he brought them together yet again, and JC was in no position to argue. [back] |