Masquerade

c2005 by Karen and LB

"I don't know, man, I'll think about it." Lance hangs up the phone and leans back in the lounge chair, the sun reflecting brightly off the pool onto his face. He's been home two weeks and already Freddy is bugging him about Halloween. He's not even sure he wants to go out. Not this year. He takes a long drag off his lemonade and glances at JC, who appears to be fast asleep in the chair next to him. JC had barely left his side since he got back, like he's afraid Lance will have some sort of breakdown.

JC is actually awake, as he so often is these days. He knows Lance thinks he's being overprotective, but that's not exactly it. He feels like he needs to reconnect with Lance. Like maybe after all Lance has been through, JC is, well, just a little boring.

"I'm getting something to eat. Want anything?" Lance asks, blocking the sun from JC's eyes.

JC glances at his watch. "Yeah. Whatcha making?"

"A sandwich. I'll bring you one."

"And chips?" JC asks wheedlingly.

"And chips." Lance slides open the deck door and steps into the cool, air-conditioned house. As he opens the refrigerator and searches for the lunch meat, something falls from the refrigerator door, and he bends to retrieve it. The invitation to the Halloween party at Tabu. The one Freddy wants him to go to. Shaking his head, he sticks it back on the door, under a Dr. Seuss magnet.

A couple hours later it's JC who goes into the kitchen, this time to get drinks for them both. He, too, notices the invitation, and wonders, not for the fist time, why Lance hasn't mentioned it.

Later that night, they're at Chris's for a movie marathon. In between DVDs, Chris asks, "So what are you going as?"

"Huh?" Lance looks up from the magazine he'd been flipping through.

"The Halloween party, dude. What are you going as?"

"I don't know," Lance mumbles.

"You love this stuff," JC says tentatively. "Maybe we could, you know, come up with something to do together."

"I don't know if I even want to go."

Chris laughs. "What're you gonna do, dude? Stay home and hand out candy?"

"Yeah, maybe I will."

JC looks sharply at Lance. This isn't like him at all, passing up a party. Maybe JC SHOULD be worried about Lance's state of mind.

The next time Lance sees Freddy, Freddy hounds him about the party, like it was the most important event all year. He even emails some costume ideas. Lance gets up from the laptop, leaving the pictures on the screen, and goes to the bathroom.

JC wanders by Lance's desk and the pictures catch his eye. So that's why Lance was so reluctant to make plans with him. He'd rather be with his other friends, his better friends. Freddy, who was with him for his big adventure.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Lance asks, flipping his phone closed.

JC looks up, blinking, as if he'd been in another dimension. "Tonight?"

"Yeah, dude. Tonight. Unless you wanted to stay in."

"I, um . . . You don't have plans?"

Lance looks at JC quizzically. "No. Where did you think I was going?"

"I dunno. Out with Freddy."

"I don't want to go out with Freddy tonight."

JC considers. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. Go to a club or something? Or Downtown Disney?"

"Yeah, sure," JC says, surprised. "You, um, wanna get dinner first?" he adds, a little tentatively.

"Yeah. You want to go to the Rainforest?"

"Sounds good." JC gets up and heads for the door, kissing Lance quickly as he passes. "I'm gonna . . . " he gestures at himself, "...clean up."

"Okay. You do smell."

JC looks over his shoulder and grins, his fears forgotten for the moment. "You like me this way. All manly."

"Yeah. Manly and smelly."

"Talk to me after you've been out running," JC says, holding his nose.

"You love when I get all physical."

JC leers. "Of course I do."

The buzz of the front gate cuts off what Lance was going to say next. It's Freddy, and Lance lets him in, even though he wasn't expecting him.

"I'll just . . . " JC gestures at the bathroom, then follows his own gesture. He turns on the water, wondering why he'd ever let himself get his hopes up.

It's the same discussion they've been having all week. Freddy trying to get Lance to go to the Halloween party, Lance saying no.

JC stays in the shower for as long as he can, then putters around the bedroom for a long time as well. When he finally emerges, dressed very simply in jeans and a white shirt, with his curls bouncing but his eyes downcast, he goes to look for Lance and Freddy.

"C'mon, Lance, it'll be fun," pleads Freddy.

"I don't know. I don't think I want to dress up this year."

"Why?"

"I just don't."

"Just think about it, okay? It'll be such a blast. We can go pick up costumes tomorrow."

"I'll think about it."

JC pauses in the doorway, having heard most of the conversation. And feeling really stupid. Lance isn't blowing him off for his other friends. Something is bothering him. And JC was so concerned with himself that he couldn't see it. His bare feet make no noise as he steps into the room. "Hey," he says quietly.

"Hey, C. Maybe you can convince this bonehead to go to the party at Tabu on Thursday."

JC takes in Lance's expression. To someone who doesn't know Lance well, he looks normal, but to JC, there's something tentative there, uncertain. An almost invisible cringing at Freddy's words. "Maybe," JC says lightly. "We'll see. It's not like it's a big deal."

"It's Halloween, dude. Lance, you gotta come. Hey, what are you guys doing tonight?"

"We have plans," Lance cuts in. "Sorry."

"Okay, okay, I can take a hint. Call me, okay?"

"Okay." Lance shows him to the door, actually relieved he's gone. He liked having Freddy in Russia-- someone from home, someone to keep him on track. But now, he just needs a little time to adjust.

JC watches Lance come back toward him, seeing the slight slump of his shoulders, the lack of a certain vitality in his step. He thinks of things he could say, ask. But instead he reaches out for Lance silently, enfolding him into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"Do I need a reason?"

"No. C'mon, we better get going."

"Can I put on shoes first?"

"No, you have to go barefoot." Lance smacks JC playfully on the behind. "Go on, get your shoes. I'm HUN-gry."

JC slips into some flip-flops then, as a last minute impulse, slaps on some cologne that he knows Lance likes. That Lance gave him, as a matter of fact. He bounds back down the stairs. "I'm ready."

"You smell nice," comments Lance, as he shuts the door behind them.

"Better than earlier?" JC jokes.

"Much better."

They head to the restaurant and are given an unobtrusive table near the waterfall. With good food and a couple of margaritas in them, they relax and laughter comes faster and more often. But as they start sharing their chocolate volcano, JC turns serious. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Lance swallows his bite of the chocolate monstrosity and flashes translucent green eyes at his companion. "No, why do you ask?"

"Oh, I don't know. The fact that you tense up whenever someone mentions a holiday you love?"

"I do not."

"Well, yeah, you kinda do."

Lance shifts in his seat, his leg bouncing. "I guess I'm just getting used to being back."

JC spoons up chocolate and waits.

Lance plays with the whipped cream, his eyes wandering to one of the large fish tanks in the center of the room.

For a few moments, the only sound is the click of spoons against dishes and the murmur of anonymous conversation around them. Finally, JC sighs and says. "Look, Lance. I don't want to push you. If you want to talk about it, I want to listen. Any time. And I'm sorry I didn't really realize there was something going on. I thought . . . I thought it was me."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Lance half smiles. "It's not you. You always think it's you. You're never the problem."

"So, there is a problem?"

"It's not a problem. It's nothing I can't handle."

"You don't HAVE to handle it alone."

"I know. But it's not like--you wouldn't understand."

JC bites back a bitter comment. "I'd try."

"Do you know what today is?"

"Monday . . . oh! Oh, Lance."

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me."

"Can I feel sorry with you?"

Lance smiles at the table, then turns his eyes upward to JC. "Yeah, I guess."

JC touches Lance's foot under the table with his own, the kind of safe public touching they've perfected over the years. "I know I'm, like, an outsider in all this. But I AM here for you."

"You're not an outsider. You may not have gone through the training I did, but you've been there for me every step of the way."

"And I want to be here for you now."

"I know you will," Lance replies, shifting uncomfortably, still not used to talking so openly with anyone.

"We could go away for a few days. Then it wouldn't matter what you want to do for Halloween."

"We could. But . . . maybe we should just go to the party."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're being pushed to do anything you don't want to. By anyone. Even me. Especially me."

"Do you want to go?"

"I can take or leave it. I mean, yeah, it's Tabu, but it's like, get dressed up and all to hang in the VIP room? I'd just as soon go on a regular night."

"So we don't hang in the VIP room--it's Halloween. We can dress however we want and no one has to know it's us."

"Yeah," JC says, brightening. "I could even, like, touch you in public."

"What kind of costume did you have in mind?"

"Oh." JC hasn't thought about this. "We could go as Backstreet Boys."

Lance laughs, and spoons up more of the dessert. "Sure. No one would suspect that."

"Too obvious? You could be me and I could be you."

"There's only one you."

"Well, what are some cool two-people things? I mean, if you wanna do that. What did Freddy want to do?"

"He wanted to do the Osbournes."

"Everyone's going to do the Osbournes."

"That's what I told him."

"Maybe we should just go shopping tomorrow. Wait for inspiration to strike."

"Yeah, we should do that."

JC gazes at the dessert, most of which is still sitting on the plate in spite of heroic efforts on both their parts. "We could dress as the largest chocolate dessert EVER."

"We could be the volcano!" Lance declares.

"We ARE the volcano."

"Oh no, it's gonna erupt!" Lance yells, smashing his spoon into the gigantic chocolate concoction.

"The waitress is gonna come yell at us."

"So maybe we should leave."

JC throws some cash on the table. "I'm ready." They make their way out of the restaurant, stopping to admire the fish as they pass by the tanks. When they get outside, it's a beautiful clear night.

"You still want to go to a club? Or we could, um, go home."

Lance pulls JC into the dark space between two buildings. "What do you want to do?"

"Volcanic things."

"Are you gonna erupt?"

"You are."

"I am, am I? Well, I guess we better get home before I hurt someone."

JC hooks his fingers into Lance's waistband, pulling him closer. "I'm already sensing some volcanic activity," JC says as he kisses Lance slowly.

It's dark enough so no one can see them without looking for them, but even so, the excitement Lance is feeling is mixed with the sense that they are going to get caught any minute. "Um, maybe we should . . . "

"Someday," JC says. "This . . . we'll . . . we won't have to worry."

"Someday. But for now, we should probably go someplace more private."

"Yeah," JC agrees, before stealing one more kiss. Then he squares his shoulder and leads the way toward their parked car. He speaks casually, as if about the weather or the latest baseball scores. "You know I'm proud of you, right? And I still believe that this is just a setback. That you're gonna get to go. Just not today."

"I'm going. I'm definitely going. It's gonna happen."

"Yes," JC says, with determination. "I believe."

Lance drives in silence, and when they arrive home, he pauses in the doorway. "I have an idea." He heads to the kitchen and pulls a bottle of wine off the wine rack, then goes to the hall closet and grabs a beach blanket.

"Good idea," JC agrees, grabbing glasses and a corkscrew and following Lance out to their expansive backyard.

In the fenced-in yard, Lance spreads out the blanket on the neatly trimmed lawn and stretches out. In the darkness, the stars are clearly visible.

JC opens and pours the wine, then, placing the glasses within easy reach, he lies down next to Lance, taking his hand. They lie, gazing upward, for a few, long moments, in a comfortable silence. "When you were away," JC finally says, softly. "I would look up the times for the station to pass over, and whenever I could, I would come out to look for it. Just for practice."

"Did you see it?"

"Mmm hmm. I'm getting pretty good at it. By the time you're up there, I'll be a real pro."

"What does it look like from here?"

"Like the brightest star. Moving on its own course. Like you."

Lance turns his head. In the dim light of the moon JC's eyes twinkle like the stars above. "Is that how you see me?"

JC looks a little embarrassed at his flowery speech, but he nods. "Yes. That's what you are to me."

"We're all moving on our own course. Even you. I might be up there, but you're right here."

"That's why we're good. I have a star to guide me and you have me to keep you grounded."

"I'll guide you wherever you want to go."

"I like the sound of that," JC says, moving closer.

"I can take you places right now."

JC runs one finger down Lance's chest. "Anywhere interesting?"

"A galaxy far, far, away," Lance says quietly.

"That's quite a light saber you have there," JC whispers, letting his hand slip lower.

"Come over to the dark side."

They're both smiling when JC brings his mouth to Lance's, which makes for a somewhat awkward, toothy kiss, but neither seems to care. JC slides closer, his hand massaging Lance through the fabric of his jeans.

Lance rolls onto his back in an attempt to get more comfortable, pulling JC on top.

Adjusting his weight more evenly over Lance, JC looks down into Lance's face, lit by moonlight, then resumes kissing him.

Lance runs his fingers through JC's hair while they kiss, then says, "You know, I may not be up there right now, but I'm sure glad I'm here with you."

"That's a lot to live up to."

"Space is a lot to live up to. You . . . I love you just the way you are."

JC tries to speak, but he's smiling so hugely he can't form words. "I love you, too," he finally manages. "That's a lot to live up to, too. But I'll try my best."

"I don't have any doubts," Lance says, pulling JC into a long, passionate kiss.

The kiss makes JC forget about living up to any measure. About space and disappointment and Halloween and worries. All that matters right now is loving Lance. Making him feel and know how much he is loved.

As Lance teases JC's lips with his tongue, he momentarily forgets about space. The stars can wait; right now he has something else to keep him busy.

JC shifts his weight again so his hand can go exploring. And it does, touching, fondling, caressing. He pauses occasionally to release a button, a zipper. But he never stops touching Lance. Or kissing him.

With his arms around JC, Lance's hands travel up and down JC's back, and even lower to the swell of his muscular ass.

JC helps Lance out of his shirt and pauses, admiring the play of moon and star light on the smooth, pale skin, highlighting the muscles beneath. On an impulse, he reaches for a glass and drizzles some of the rich, dark wine on Lance's chest, then bends to lick it off.

"Hey! Oh . . . ," Lance moans, his head falling back against the soft blanket. He grins as he watches the stars and sighs, his chest moving against JC's tongue.

"Delicious," JC murmurs, although there is no more wine. He pours a little more, and runs his fingers through it, using his wet fingers to rub one already taut nipple to an even higher, tinier peak.

"That feels delicious."

"Yeah?" JC spills more wine onto Lance's chest and follows one rivulet along a sculpted pec to take the nipple between his lips. He can feel and hear Lance's heart beating under his mouth, and it excites him tremendously that he's caused this frantic rhythm.

"Oh yeah," Lance growls. "Amazing." He cradles JC's head against his chest, soft curls entwined in his fingers.

JC lifts his head and grins. "I think you like this better than actually drinking it."

"I do. But I think you missed a spot."

"There will be no missed spots when I'm done with you," JC leers, reaching for the glass again.

"Good thing it's a big bottle."

"Are you telling me you want more?" JC holds the still quite full glass over Lance's belly, tilting it precariously.

Lance nods quickly. "It's a really good vintage."

JC tips the glass, and watches the liquid travel along the ridges of Lance's toned abs. After a moment he leans forward to lick at the wine collected in Lance's navel.

Lance giggles then manages, "YOU are amazing, JC."

"I have the best inspiration."

"What's that?"

"You," JC says sincerely, with another swipe of his tongue. "Dork."

"If I'm a dork, you're a dork."

JC grabs the glass again and dumps it. "Yeah, but you're a wet dork."

"Dude, you better clean that up."

"I intend to," JC says. And he does. Carefully. Thoroughly.

JC's ministrations send a shiver through Lance. A delicious, arousing shiver. He can smell the wine, and its aroma excites him even more.

"I think I better take these pants off you," JC murmurs. "You know how wine stains."

"And I know how you hate doing the laundry."

JC quickly disposes with Lance's remaining clothing and stretches out next to him again, one hand settled possessively on Lance's hip. "Better. Much better."

"I'm very naked. And you're not."

With innocent eyes, JC gazes at Lance. "And that's a problem?"

Lance sits up. "It is for me. C'mon, let's get you out of that shirt." And he proceeds to do just that, exposing JC's lean, sculpted chest.

"You're right. This is better."

Both boys are sitting up, facing each other. Lance places his palms on JC's cool skin, and brings his lips to JC's in a soft kiss.

JC presses against Lance's hands, leaning into him. His own hands travel the length of Lance's back, settling finally at his waist, drawing him closer.

Lance flicks open JC's pants, and after carefully lowering the zipper, reaches inside to touch JC's heat.

Lance's warm hand is a perfect contrast to the cool night air on JC's skin. He gasps a little, his head falling back, as Lance's touch makes him dizzy, greedy with need.

Leaning forward, Lance tilts JC's head forward so he can engage him in a fiery kiss. His hands never leave JC's body, but instead pull him closer still.

JC falls backward, taking Lance with him. His arm brushes the second glass of wine and it tips, pouring out onto the grass.

The scent of the wine is carried in the breeze blowing Lance's hair, its intoxicating scent mixed with the flavor in JC's mouth arousing him more than before. He pulls JC's heat free and wraps his hand around its girth, and he begins to stroke it to its impressive length.

JC bunches a piece of the blanket into his fist, hanging on tightly as Lance's talented hand adds pleasure to pleasure. It's been a long time since he's come just from being touched like this, but something about the night, the wine, the stars makes this all the more exciting.

Lance kisses JC's lips, his cheek; he runs his tongue along JC's large earlobe. He buries his face in JC's shoulder, kissing, sucking gently, as his hand strokes faster and faster.

"What are you doin' to me?" JC groans. "You're makin' me crazy."

"You want me to stop? Hmm?" Lance whispers hotly in JC's ear, pausing midstroke.

"No, never stop."

"Okay. I'll do this for as long as you want. For forever, if you want."

"Or just until . . . " And JC explodes over Lance's hand.

Lance kisses JC's neck through his orgasm, his hand stroking, coaxing, until JC lies still, spent.

"Wow," JC says. Then, because his brain hasn't really started working again, he says it again. He manages to make his arms work enough to wrap them around Lance.

Smiling, Lance reaches for the glass of wine still standing. He dips a finger in the warm liquid and spreads it on JC's lips, then kisses it away. "Mmm, tasty."

"Good vintage?" JC asks, returning the smile.

"The best. It aged well."

"You saying I'm old?"

"No! Well . . . you are older than me."

"You know, you'd have a better chance of actually having an orgasm if you were nicer to me."

"That's extortion."

"No, it's just . . . information. Of course, you probably don't want to make love to this old, decrepit body."

"I have to. Otherwise, you'll just shrivel up."

"Not if it's such a horrible task for you."

"Who said it's horrible?"

"You have to?"

"I want to."

"That's better." JC stretches, grabs the bottle and drinks. "That should keep me from shriveling up and blowing away."

"The only thing that's gonna blow you away is me."

"Prove it."

Lance takes the bottle from JC's hand and takes a long swig. "Is that a dare?"

"Well, I thought of it more as an invitation, but, dare works."

"So you're inviting me to make love to you? Do I have to RSVP?"

Taking the bottle back, JC smiles. "Nope. Just come."

"JC Chasez, you're getting all saucy on me."

"You complaining?"

"No. Just checking."

"You like me saucy."

"I do. Saucy and sexy," Lance growls, climbing on top of JC.

JC draws Lance's face down, kissing him hard, tasting the wine on both their lips.

Lance pulls back, smoothing back JC's hair. "I, um, don't have anything out here."

"Just go slow."

"Are you sure?" Lance's demeanor changes from playfulness to genuine concern.

"I want you."

Lance doesn't respond, not verbally. Instead, he kisses JC, parting his lips and closing his mouth over JC's full, wine-soaked lips.

JC wraps his arms around Lance, then follows with his legs. It's like he's trying to surround Lance, envelop him. The kisses get deeper, more intense as JC gives himself over completely to Lance.

With their bodies pressed so closely, Lance knows there's no backing out. He doesn't want to hurt JC, but his need is so urgent that without any hesitation, he lifts JC's legs and enters him as slowly as possible.

JC holds his breath for a moment as the first discomfort passes through him. Then it's over and his need for Lance outweighs all else. He relaxes and moves his hips slightly in a clear invitation.

Lance takes his time, easing in and out of JC. There's no clock, there's no schedule. They have all night, and with the brightly lit night sky above them Lance wants nothing more than to make love to JC as long as he can.

It's JC's turn to look up at the stars as Lance moves over him, bringing him to arousal once again. This is what they both needed--not just the sex, but the closeness of the entire evening. The sense that whatever happens, they're in this together and they'll get each other through no matter what.

Lance lifts his head so he can see JC's face, and as he moves leisurely in and out of JC's hot passage, he says, "Hi."

JC reaches up to touch Lance's face. "Hi, yourself."

Lance dips down to kiss JC, then pulls back so he can watch his face when he comes. JC looks up into Lance's face, both shadowed and illuminated by the moonlight. He thinks that Lance gets more beautiful every moment and he feels a surge of love that carries him off into his climax. JC's tremors trigger Lance to quicken his pace, and as he lowers himself to hold JC closer, his own orgasm shoots through him.

When JC can speak again, he whispers, "I don't feel old and shriveled up now."

"I feel shriveled."

JC picks up the bottle and holds it over Lance. "I could water you."

"Don't you dare."

"I wouldn't," JC says, putting the bottle back down and wrapping his arms around Lance again. "But if you're good I'll make you hot chocolate when we go inside."

"Wasn't I good?"

"Beyond good."

"So do I get my hot chocolate?"

"You get anything you want."

Lance looks up at the sky, at the beautiful stars and the vastness of space. "I have everything I want."

"Except a Halloween costume."

"You're right--we'll have to come up with something."

"Tomorrow."

"Okay." Lance sits up and pulls on his pants. "Right now, I'd just like to sit out here and look at the stars."

"We can do that." JC retrieves their glasses and pours more wine. "To . . . making our dreams come true," Lance proclaims, holding up his glass.

"I think we just did. One of them, anyway."

Lance touches his glass to JC's, and as he drinks his eyes move upward, to the vast, open space above. And somehow, he knows he'll get there. For now, he's content being right where he is.

Back to Short Stories

Home