Forever Young: Valentine's Day
by Karen and LB
© 2002
This is the beginning of an as-yet-undetermined-in length series of shorts chronicling Lance and JC's relationship from the beginning. At least our version of it.: }
Lance watches as Joey combs his hair for the fifth time. "You know, she probably won't even care," Lance states flatly.
"I care. I'll notice. Besides, since we're only here for one night I want to leave a lasting impression, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Why don't you see what Justin's doing tonight? Maybe he'll want to hang."
"He's going out too. And Chris has got something going on. I'll just stay here and watch movies or something. It's okay."
"You sure? I mean, I feel bad leaving you like this, but you've seen Patti."
"Yeah," Lance says, laughing. "I wouldn't want to cramp your style."
"I'd just be afraid she'd go for you over me," Joey says with a wink, reaching for his jacket. "Why don't you check with JC? I don't think he has plans."
"JC? Yeah, I guess." Funny, in the months the group's been together he and JC had never really spent much time together. Maybe having dinner would be a good idea. Lance watches as Joey checks himself one more time, then says, "Good luck," as Joey heads out the door. He smiles; rooming with Joey is never a dull moment. Sighing, he grabs his room key and wallet and heads over to JC and Justin's room. Knocking softly in case his bandmate is napping, Lance calls out, "JC? It's Lance."
JC jumps up off the bed and tries to make it look like he had been working on a song instead of lying around moping over the fact that he's like the only loser on the planet with nothing to do for Valentine's Day. He switches on the desk lamp, opens his notebook and leaves a pencil lying across it in what he hopes is a just-interrupted fashion.
JC goes to the door and opens it, looking at Lance with curiosity. He can count on one hand the number of times that Lance has approached him. The kid really is pretty shy. "Hey, Lance. What's up?"
"Hey, JC. Oh, I'm sorry, were you working?" He takes a cursory glance into the room, and, seeing the notebook flipped open on the desk, suddenly thinks this is a bad idea.
"No." JC steps back to let Lance into the room. "That is, I was. But I don't mind taking a break. So what are you up to?"
"Well, um, I thought--you know, Joey, Justin, and Chris all have plans, and if you're not doing anything maybe we could go get something to eat. I mean, if you're busy and all I could just order room service or something." He starts to head for the door.
"Sure, Lance. Sounds good." JC hopes his words reach the kid's ears before he's out the door.
"Oh," Lance says, surprised. "Um, that would be great. I just thought you might already have plans or something."
"Nope," JC says, feeling a little pang for Lance. After all, he IS shy, and it must have taken a lot for him to come by and suggest this. "In fact," he ventures, hoping to put his younger friend at ease. "I was kind of sitting here feeling sorry for myself because I didn't have plans. You rescued me. We can be pathetic and dateless together."
Hands in pockets, Lance looks down at the floor as they walk down the hallway. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, if my mom was here I'd take her out, but she had to go back home for this school thing with Stacy. But I guess going out with your mom on Valentine's Day IS pretty pathetic."
Again, JC feels bad for the kid. He thinks I'm making fun of him or something. "Nah, it would be nice. Maybe when we get back we should call our moms." JC pushes the elevator button. "Where were you thinking of going?"
"Um, there's supposed to be some place down the street. I checked the guide in my room and it sounded okay." Lance looks away, realizing he must sound like the biggest geek.
"Good. So if we don't like it we can complain to the hotel's management. After we call our mothers. See? No one can say we don't know how to have fun."
Lance smiles. JC always knows how to make people feel at ease. "Oh yeah, this will be something to tell Bop, that's for sure."
JC laughs. "Yeah, Dream Date With 'N Sync. Watch them as they call their moms. Stand by them as they berate hapless hotel management." JC pauses. "Lance? Do you think that's ever really gonna happen? Not the dream date part, but the Bop part? The fame and fortune part?"
As they head out into the cool night air, Lance kicks at loose stones on the sidewalk. "Yeah, I do. I mean, with your voice--and Justin's and everyone, I don't see why we shouldn't. We want it, right? I mean, you want it, don't you?"
"Yeah, I do. So much I can taste it. But so do a lot of people. Sometimes, I just have trouble believing in it, you know? That all the work, the stupid mall gigs like this one, are gonna pay off."
"It will. We just have to work for it. I don't expect it to happen overnight. Lou seems to know what he's doing. And let's face it--you and Justin were doing pretty well before 'N Sync. This doesn't work out, you'll still be able to go on and do something big."
JC grins ruefully. "Of course, there's always the chance that I'm just obsessing too much. So, where's this place?"
"Um, just across the street." It's a small, homey restaurant, and through the windows they can see a few families and some teenage couples.
"Cool. I'm starving."
"Me too." Lance holds the door open and follows JC through. It's a little noisy, but they're seated at a booth against the wall. Lance studies the menu, suddenly feeling a little nervous and not knowing why.
"You okay? You just suddenly looked sort of, I don't know, weird."
"I do? Sorry. I'm fine. Really," Lance says, as his leg starts bouncing under the table. "How weird?"
"I don't know. A little sad, a little stressed. Weird."
"I'm okay. I guess . . . we've never really spent any time together. I mean, doing stuff. Without the other guys." Lance goes back to studying the menu like it's the Dead Sea scrolls.
"No, I guess we haven't. I'm always writing and stuff, and you've got all that homework, and the extra dance rehearsals and all."
"Yeah." Lance runs a hand through his hair, much shorter than it had been a day ago. "I just wish I could get some of those moves down. I feel like such a dork."
"You're not a dork. And you've come a really long way in a short time."
"You think? Nah, I still have a long way to go." Lance waves his hand dismissively and averts his eyes. There's something really unnerving about the way JC can just look right through a person. "You guys are really tight."
"It takes all five of us, Lance. That's the only way it works. Doesn't matter how tight the other four are. And you've learned in months what the rest of us have been doing for years. So don't be too hard on yourself, and don't think that the rest of us don't see how hard you're working. Because we do." JC picks up Lance's forgotten menu and hands it back to him. "The waitress is coming back. You know what you want?"
"Um, yeah. And . . . thanks, JC. I just don't want to let you guys down."
"You don't. You won't." A young, attractive waitress approaches, smiling. Lance watches as JC glances up. Sure, she's pretty but . . . The boys chat her up a bit, then place their order. Once again, Lance's nerves get the better of him, and he fidgets with the silverware.
JC spins the salt shaker around a few times, then stops. "I think I'm turning into Chris," he mutters.
"No way. One is scary enough." The waitress comes back with their sodas; Lance balls up the wrapper from his straw and boldly flicks it at JC.
"Now you're turning into Justin. And one of him is MORE than enough. Can you tell me how the 14 year old managed to have a date tonight and we don't?"
" 'Cause he's Justin. He's the cute one. At least when we go on a date we don't have to have our moms drive us." Lance blushes when he realizes how that sounds, and starts playing with the sugar packets.
JC laughs, delightedly. "You got that right." Lance is funny, he thinks. How come I didn't know that?
"When was your last date?"
"When Joey fixed me up with some girl for New Years . . . what was her name? Cindy? Yeah, except she spelled it S-i-n-d-e-e. And every time she was introduced to anyone, she spelled it." JC shakes his head at the memory. "No wonder I don't date much."
"It's not like we have a whole lot of time anyway. Sometimes I think Joey's got the right idea."
"Now there's a scary thought." JC moves back to allow the waitress to put their plates in front of them. "How 'bout you, Lance," he resumes when she's deposited the ketchup bottle and walked away. "When did you last go on a date?"
Lance smirks. It wasn't exactly a date; it was a fix-up. "It's gonna sound so stupid--I was an escort. One of those debutante things, friends of my parents. I mean, it was fun, but it wasn't really a date. The girl was nice and all, but we just didn't hit it off. Her name was Krystie. K-R-Y . . . "
"What is it with girls and their NAMES, dude?" JC bites into his burger.
"I don't get it either. JAY CEE."
JC flings a french fry at Lance. "You know that's not my fault. That was the Mouse Club. I was always Josh. LansteN."
"What would you have done if I had gone by James? Jamesten?"
"If you had gone by James, we would have made Chris change his name to something that started with J."
"That would really mess things up. What would we call ourselves? The Five Js?" Lance makes a face. "Nah, this way everyone's happy. At least I didn't mess up your name." He chews thoughtfully on a french fry.
"What, you think that would have mattered? 'Gee, kid, you've got a great voice and all, but your name doesn't have the right last letter, so you might as well go back to Mississippi.' " JC snorts. "You worry too much, Lance."
Lance considers JC's words.
"Maybe. But in this business, stuff like that matters. It's all about image. And Lou seems like he really cares about that."
"Yeah, he does. But in the end, it comes down to the five of us. And you're not less a part of that because you came along last."
Lance starts playing with his fries. JC can be so intense sometimes, so serious--and Lance likes that. He feels like he can tell JC things; JC can be so open and honest. "Can I tell you something, JC? I'm glad Jason dropped out. I feel bad 'cause I didn't even know him, but I'm glad he did."
"Me too, Lance. Now HE was a dork. He would never have fit in."
"Really? But he didn't even have a funny accent."
"Your accent isn't funny. You gonna eat those fries or make a sculpture out of them?"
"I dunno--I thought maybe I'd sell it and make some money 'cause this gig sure isn't paying off."
"Weren't you the one telling me just a little while ago to give it time?"
"Yeah, but I want to buy a car soon--what, you don't think this will sell?" He has the fries arranged carefully in a pile.
"Uh, dude? Don't quit your day job."
"Thanks for the encouragement." Lance pulls out a fry from the bottom of the plate and the whole sculpture tumbles. "Here," he says, pushing the plate toward JC. "So what would you be doing now if you weren't in the group?"
JC, having finished his own fries, starts on Lance's. "Trying to get in a group, I guess. Writing. You know."
"You've got some good ideas. I like that song you were working on the other day."
"Thanks. I hope maybe someday I'll have something good enough for us to do." JC pushes away the plate and its remaining fries and takes a sip of his soda. "What about you? You're the one who's life would be the most different if you weren't doing this. Must feel strange sometimes."
"It does. I mean, I still can't believe I'm here. Every time I talk to my friends back home I realize how different my life is now. I'd probably be taking the SATs or something." He pauses. "Okay, so I don't miss taking the SATs."
"From what I hear, you'd have done great on those. But you looked sad when you talked about your friends. You still get homesick?"
Lance smiles, embarrassed. He knows he comes across as this hick, mama's boy sometimes. "Sometimes. I mean, I really do like living with you guys, but I wish I could see my other friends more. I miss them. We had so much fun."
"It doesn't have to be one or the other. I've been doing this longer than you, and I still miss my friends back home sometimes."
"You do?"
"Sure. And my brother and sister."
"I bet they miss you too. It must be hard having your older brother be away so much." Lance laughs. "Listen to us, we sound like we're in the army."
"Speak for yourself, Sergeant Bass."
"I don't remember going through basic training, CORPORAL Chasez."
"Pulling rank on me, Bass?"
"Any chance I can get." He looks up slyly, then looks away, realizing that JC probably thinks he's acting like an idiot.
JC, laughing, realizes that he's having a way better time than he'd expected to. The kid is funny and easy to talk to. As the waitress returns to take their dessert orders, he finds himself smiling, really smiling, at the boy across the table.
Lance's leg once again starts bouncing; JC's smile is infectious, and he wills himself to relax. It's not like JC is that much older, but he still can't help feeling like JC is babysitting him because everyone else had plans.
"Do I make you nervous, Lance? 'Cause between your leg going a mile a minute and building a fort out of your french fries, I kinda think I do."
"No, not at all." Yeah, right Lance, that was real convincing. He stops bouncing his leg and tries to keep his eyes focused on the older boy. "I'm, um, glad we got to hang out," he mumbles.
"I am, too. I never really got to know you before this, and I should have."
The color rising in his cheeks, Lance shrugs off this last comment. "I guess I'm kind of shy when I first meet people. You're easy to talk to though."
"Yeah, so are you." JC takes a sip of his coffee, covering his own blush. "How's your pie?"
"It's great," Lance looks up, grinning. "Wanna try? Can I try yours?"
"Sure." JC pushes his plate closer to Lance and reaches over with his fork to sample Lance's pie.
There's an awkward moment when their hands brush against each other as they reach for the opposite plate, and normally Lance would think nothing of it, but somehow it makes him blush again and he chuckles nervously, until both boys finally manage to get a forkful of each other's desserts. "Mmmmm, this is really good," Lance manages before swallowing.
"This too. But you didn't get all the layers. Here." JC reaches for Lance's fork and scoops up a more representative sample of his dessert, then leans across the table to feed it to Lance.
Lance blinks at the fork in front of his mouth and hesitates, then timidly opens his mouth. His lips close over the fork and he feels the sugar shock hit him. JC was right--Lance missed the good part the first time. His eyes widen and he smiles as he swallows. "Wow!" he exclaims, licking his lips. "That's really good. We gotta remember this place next time we're in town." He's babbling now, trying to make sense of what just happened.
"Um, you've got some . . . " Without thinking about it, JC reaches across the table again, to wipe away a bit of chocolate sauce from next to Lance's mouth. He looks down at his finger, shrugs, and pops it into his mouth. It strikes him that he's acting very flirtatious, and he blushes. "Um, sorry."
Lance touches his mouth where JC's finger had just been. "Um, it's okay. I'm a mess. My mom's always after me about that." He touched my face.
"No, it was my fault. And stop putting yourself down."
Lance turns his attention back to his plate. He suddenly feels the urge to get up and leave; he's having a great time, and for some reason that scares him. It never bothers him to be alone with Joey, Justin, or Chris, but there's something different about JC and Lance can't put his finger on it. "Um, okay. But I really am a messy eater."
"Compared to Joey? Compared to JUSTIN?"
"Okay, not as bad as Justin. He killed one of my shirts!"
"Tell me about it. And he used to be worse!"
Lance glances around as though someone might be eavesdropping. "Okay, spill."
"Oh, gosh, he used to steal my stuff ALL the time. 'Borrow,' I mean. But I never got anything back in wearable condition. I had this authentic Redskins jersey that I was so proud of--I was such a geek--and after he wore it once, then tried to wash it? Rags."
"Oh man, I don't blame you for bein' pissed. Except for the fact that you're a 'Skins fan." Lance ducks his head, hiding his smile.
"Gee, Lance. I thought we were gonna be friends. But if you're gonna start dissing the 'Skins . . . "
"Sorry. You gotta admit though . . . okay, no more dissing. Even though you like the 'Skins."
JC starts to glare and ends up grinning. "You're hard to stay mad at."
"That's what my mom says." Lance licks the last crumbs off his fork and pushes his plate away.
JC sips his coffee. "This was great. I'm really glad we did this."
"Yeah, it beats room service." Lance folds his arms on the table's edge and stares down, kicking his feet back and forth. "Um, you got work to do?"
"Nothing that can't wait. You want to go back to my room and catch a movie?"
"Really? You don't mind? 'Cause I'm still kind of wired."
"Lance, if I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't have suggested it."
"Cool." Fortunately, the waitress comes back and asks if they'd like anything else, saving Lance from having to say any more. They ask for the bill and settle up, and then they're heading back to the hotel.
The night is cool and clear and after the brightly lit restaurant the dimness is welcome. They're almost to the hotel when they pass a convenience store and JC stops. "We should get sodas and stuff. Half the vending machines in the hotel are broken and I think the other half are empty."
"Good idea." Lance follows JC into the convenience store, stopping to pick up a magazine from the rack and flipping through it. JC heads straight over to the refrigerated case. "Dr. Pepper, right?" he asked, reaching in to the coolness. "Find anything good?"
"Um, yeah. I mean no. I mean, yes to the Dr. Pepper, no to the magazine. Just the usual gossip." But he carries it to the counter anyway.
JC adds a box of microwave popcorn--"just in case"--and they make their purchase and head back to the hotel. As they step off the elevator, Lance turns to JC. "I just want to call my mom--you know, to wish her a happy Valentine's Day. I'll be over in five minutes, okay?"
"Sure. See you in a few." JC goes into his room and sees the message light is blinking. HIS mom has called and he calls her back, listening to her distractedly while waiting for Lance's soft knock. Back in his room, Lance calls his mother, and they talk for several minutes. When he hangs up the phone, he feels a pang of loneliness; he'd gotten used to her being around. He runs a hand absent-mindedly through his hair. What am I doing? This isn't a date. Who cares what I look like? He laughs to himself, then heads over to JC's room. He hesitates at the door, listening. The TV is on, too low to really hear, but nothing else. JC must be off the phone by now, so Lance taps on the door.
JC opens the door almost immediately, ice bucket in hand. "Hey, Lance. Go on in and get comfortable. I'm just gonna get some ice." He gestures with the bucket.
"Oh, okay." As JC walks past, Lance glances around the small room. Justin's bed is a complete mess--covers thrown every which way, and clothes piled on every available space. There's no chair, so the only places to sit are the floor or JC's bed, which, even though it's unmade is nevertheless more accommodating than Justin's. Lance hesitates, then sits on the floor, knees up, and leans his back against the bed. He grabs the remote, flipping stations until he hits the movie channel.
JC pads back down the hall, the carpet rough against his bare feet. wondering why he's nervous. He's just hanging out with one of the guys, right? Yet there's the unmistakable feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He lets himself back into the room and feels a jolt go right through him when Lance looks up at him from his spot on the floor and smiles. Huh? he manages to think.
Startled, Lance feels like he's just been caught doing something he's not supposed to. He smiles nervously as JC places the ice bucket on the dresser and sticks the cans of soda inside. "Um, I was just looking for a movie."
JC hands Lance a soda, again feeling that little whatever as their hands touch. "Anything good?" he asks as he drops to the floor beside Lance.
Lance shifts to give JC more room. Why doesn't he sit on the bed? It's a fleeting thought, and Lance glances behind them, but he lets it go. Turning his attention back to the TV, he replies, "Um, there's Braveheart -- that Mel Gibson movie, and HBO has The Mask."
"Hmmmm. I don't know, I think I'm more in the mood for a comedy. What do you think?"
"Yeah, me too." Lance presses the button on the remote and shifts once again, sinking lower onto the floor.
"You comfortable? We could sit on the bed. Or we could at least get the pillows."
This is all so strange. Normally, when they all hang out together everyone just settles somewhere and does his own thing. But now, it's like the two of them are trying to be so polite to each other. "Yeah, okay." In truth, Lance's butt is getting numb from sitting this way, and he'd like to stretch his legs out, so he pushes himself off the floor and climbs onto the bed, on his stomach, facing the TV.
JC climbs up on the opposite side of the bed, grabbing the pillows and offering one to Lance. The movie is just starting and they watch for a while in silence. JC is very aware of Lance's presence next to him. It's like he can sense the exact number of inches separating them. He wonders what the heck is going on with him . . . he's noticed guys before, but never like this. And he's never felt the temptation to DO anything about the noticing before.
Lance keeps his eyes focused on the TV. He hears the voices, but nothing registers. He can see JC peripherally and can feel the body heat between them. He clutches the pillow tightly, trying hard to will away the thoughts that keep creeping into his mind.
This is supposed to be a comedy JC thinks. Then why aren't we laughing? He fidgets some more, glancing periodically at Lance's profile, wanting to break the silence, not knowing what to say.
Lance adjusts the pillow under him, needing to move, needing to do something. His elbow accidentally bumps JC, and Lance flinches. "Sorry." But then he sees JC looking at him, and for some reason he can't take his eyes away. He's known JC has tranquil, blue eyes, but he never REALLY looked at them before. "Sorry," he says again, looking away. Why do I feel this way? JC is a GUY. I've never been into guys. Well, not really.
This is bad. JC should not be feeling this way. About a guy. About his bandmate. About a 16 year old. Well, almost 17. That sounds vaguely less predatory.
And yet . . . there's something here. Something that feels good and right and almost comfortable--or might be if they both weren't so tense. And, judging by the look in those amazing eyes when their gazes met and locked, Lance is feeling it too.
"Uh, Lance? JC finally says, needing desperately to speak. "Um, is there something, I mean. Okay, I don't want to freak you out or anything, but I'm feeling . . . something. Um, attraction, but not just physical, you know?"
Lance's eyes widen. If they got any wider they'd pop out of his head. It's like JC can read his mind. This is insane! his brain screams. This CANNOT be happening. But it is. JC laid it out there and Lance cannot ignore it. Without thinking about it, Lance sits up, back on his butt, hugging his knees. "Um, wow, I, um--I'm weirding you out, aren't I. I didn't mean to . . . you know, I don't want you to think I . . . oh my gosh, I don't know what I'm saying."
JC turns to face Lance, lying on his side, propped on one elbow. "Neither do I, if that helps. Lance, you're not weirding me out, don't ever think that. But there's something here, at least I think there is. And I think it goes both ways, or I wouldn't have said anything."
Lance looks down, at the wall, at anyplace but the face staring at him. "I don't know what's going on. I don't understand this. I mean, I've always liked girls, I guess. I think. I had a good time with you tonight, but it's different from how it is with Joey or the other guys. Oh man, I should just shut up now." He puts his forehead on his knees, not wanting JC to see how he's blushing.
JC reaches over and lightly touches one of Lance's hands where it clasps his legs. "This is just as confusing for me, Lance. You don't have to be afraid to say what you think."
They never talked about this in sex ed, Lance thinks sadly. "I think . . . I think I like you, JC."
"I think I like you too, Lance." JC wishes Lance would look at him, but he doesn't want to push him. "No, that's not it. I KNOW I like you."
Lance peeks out from under his crossed arms. "You do? Man, this is weird."
"Yeah, it is. But look at the bright side. It means we weren't dateless losers on Valentine's Day."
How could he not laugh at that? Lance throws his head back and rolls his eyes at the ceiling. "Is that what this is?"
"That's what it feels like."
Now his whole face feels hot. Lance thinks back to the last date he had. Yes, it does feel like that. Only . . . better. He's feeling things he never felt before with anyone. His hand travels to his mouth and he chews his nails. "It does sort of. But we're . . . GUYS, Josh. I mean, I'm not . . . you're not . . . you know."
JC pulls Lance's hand gently away from his mouth "Gay? I never thought so, but I also know how I feel right now."
Lance stares at the hand holding his. He's touched that hand before, but never like this. Biting his lip, he slides his hand out from JC's. "This is so confusing." He bites his lip; he does like JC, but isn't that wrong?
"Yes, it is. At least that's what my head's telling me. My heart's a different story."
Lance wants desperately to run from the room. He wishes he had never asked JC to dinner. He wishes he could pretend this night never happened. But he's frozen where he's sitting and JC is looking at him with those eyes, those . . . beautiful eyes. "What are we gonna do?"
"Well, we can try hanging out together more and see where this takes us. You know, take things nice and slow. Or you could jump me right now and have your way with me." JC grins, then turns serious. "Or you could leave right now, and we'll just pretend this never happened." JC bites his lip. "I'm kind of hoping for the first," he says softly, praying fervently that Lance doesn't pick the last.
Lance's head snapped up when JC joked about jumping him, but at these last words, his face became completely serious. He looks down at his hands and mumbles softly, "I'd like that."
JC has to lean forward to hear the quiet words over the pounding of his own heart. How did someone he'd scarcely bothered to get to know until tonight become this important to him in a few hours?
Lance lifts his head and sees that JC has moved closer. There's a lump in Lance's throat, and he fights to keep it down. He suddenly has this urge to kiss JC--to KISS him. To kiss a GUY. He leans forward, closing his eyes, going with the moment, stopping his thoughts from intruding on what he's about to do--and that's when he hears the lock on the door click open.
Both boys jump guiltily and pretend to be paying rapt attention to the forgotten television.
Justin explodes into the room, as full of energy as a puppy. "What's up--hey! I LOVE this movie. Jim Carrey AND Cameron Diaz!" Justin flops down on the foot of the bed forcing Lance and JC to back up to accommodate him. Justin is immediately caught up in the movie, and JC turns to Lance with a sweet, secret smile. He snakes one hand closer, and they hold hands, hidden by a fold of bedclothes.
The movie ends, and Justin yawns. "Yo, Joey still out?"
Lance, his trance broken, answers, "Yeah, I guess." He glances at the clock. "Curfew. I guess it's time for bed." He blushes, knowing how ridiculous that sounds to a 19-year-old. His hand is sweating as he reluctantly releases JC. "Um, I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow." He stands, moving toward the door.
"Hang on, Lance." JC says quickly. "I wanna get more ice. I'll walk out with you."
Justin glances up and shrugs. Lance shoots JC a nervous glance, but walks into the hall, hands in pockets.
JC grabs the ice bucket and follows Lance and the two walk slowly down the hall. "I had a really good time tonight, Lance. Really good."
Lance smiles at the ground. "Me too. I still feel strange . . . but . . . good strange." They reach Lance's room, and he turns to JC. "Thanks, JC."
JC glances around and, seeing that the corridor is deserted, reaches one hand to Lance's chin to tip his head upward and drops a very light, very sweet, very tender kiss on Lance's upturned lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, Lance."
Lance's eyes grow wide and he backs into the wall; his tongue slips out of his mouth, over his lips. "Um, yeah. You too," he mutters, fumbling for his room key. With his back turned to JC, he smiles, blushing as though it was his first kiss. And it was. Is. Because it's the first time in his life he ever felt anything like this.
JC backs away, grinning. "See you at breakfast, Lance."
Lance holds his hand up as he slips behind the door. When it closes, he leans against it and slides to the floor. "Wow."