Selfish: Baby, I Would Take Good Care of You
by Karen and LB
© 2002
"Shit." Lance wants to throw his pager across the room, but he knows that won't make the problem disappear, and he'll just have to go out and buy a new one. That's the last thing he has time for right now.
"Problem?" JC asks mildly, looking up from his notebook.
"Shit, shit, shit. Yes. A big problem. We've been so busy with the new record I never had a chance to deal with this new artist I want to sign. And I have all these scripts I'm supposed to look over. And I have to book Meredith and there are like all these contract things . . . "
"And? It sounds like there's something more."
"It was supposed to be done yesterday."
"You've got the rest of today and tonig--" JC suddenly makes the connection. "Something happened. Beth's not coming. Am I right?"
"No, Beth's not coming. She's really sick. Look, I know I promised we'd do something tonight, but I just can't now."
"We can do this instead. I can help you. I can, like, fax things for you and stuff."
"I don't want to ruin your night off. This is gonna be all work, no play."
"I don't have anything else planned. I'd like to help."
"Well, um, I could really use it. But it's really not gonna be any fun."
"It'll be more fun if we both do it than if you do it alone, right? What do you need me to do first?"
"It's not gonna be fun." Lance tosses a large, FedEx packet on the bed. "That's a contract that had like 5,000 changes made to it. I need someone to proof it against all the versions to make sure everything's there that's supposed to be. And that's just the first thing."
"Okay. Give me the other versions."
"They're in there. You see anything funky, mark it up and I'll fax it back to Beth. I have to get started on these scripts." Lance fans the stack of papers in his hand, exasperated that things got so out of hand so quickly.
"Okay." JC goes over to Lance's desk and picks up a pen. He hesitates, then picks up a pad of post-it notes as well. He settles himself on the bed and lifts the hefty envelope, pulls out the contents, and sorts through the various contracts to get a sense of how many and the dates. Then he begins carefully comparing each contract to the most recent one, checking off changes that agree with the notes, and using post-it notes to flag anything he's not sure of.
As Lance settles on the couch, he eyes JC, impressed by his friend's ability to focus on such an administrative task. He's never seen this side of JC, not in all the years Lance has known him. Hours pass. Faxes are sent and received, emails are written, phone calls constantly interrupt the boys any time it gets too quiet. Papers cover the desk, the coffee table, and the bed. At some point, Lance manages to order up some Chinese food, knowing how much JC likes that particular cuisine.
And now, Lance is rubbing his shoulder as he speaks to Beth. The hands on the beside clock seem to be working in double time, yet Lance feels as though they haven't made a dent. JC moves Lance's hand and starts rubbing Lance's shoulders himself. Lance looks up to protest, but then trusts the hands relaxing his muscles.
When Lance gets off the phone, JC asks, "What next? I could go through all this stuff and sort out what's done and what's not." He gestures at the papers piled everywhere. "If we get rid of the stuff that's done, it's gonna look less intimidating."
"Where did you learn that?"
"I dunno. Just makes sense, I guess. And . . . well, I know everyone thinks I'm a spazz, but I like to be organized when I work."
"No one thinks you're a spazz," remarks Lance as he crouches on the floor and rummages through a stack of scripts. "I just never pegged you for the business type."
"I don't love it like you do. But I can be organized if I put my mind to it." JC sits on the bed again and begins methodically sorting through the papers there. "And everyone thinks I'm a spazz."
"Only when you laugh." Lance glances up and gives JC a wink, then returns his attention to the script. More hours pass, more empty containers--this time ice cream. Lance rubs his eyes and yawns, and when he looks at the clock he mutters, "Shit. I can't believe how late it is. Or early, depending on whether you want it to be yesterday or today."
JC looks up, his eyes barely open. "Yeah, but look how much we got done." He waves a hand at the neat stacks of paper on the dresser and desk. "What do you want me to do next?"
"Go to bed."
"You sure? We're not done."
"It's okay," Lance says, padding over to JC. "You've done enough. You were a big help, you know that? I couldn't have done this without you." And with that, he wraps his arms around JC and hugs him tightly.
"I'm glad I could help," JC says, returning the hug, never wanting to let go. Lance takes a deep breath, taking in JC's scent--the scent of a man who's worked hard and is sweaty and yet still smells so sweet. Reluctantly, he pulls away but keeps his hands on JC's arms, rubbing lightly. "If you want, you can go in the bedroom and I'll just finish up here. We don't have to be at the stadium till later today, so you can sleep in as much as you want."
"Okay, but don't work too long. You must be exhausted yourself."
"I'm okay. I'll feel better when it's all done." Lance gives JC a quick kiss, but when JC turns to go Lance smacks him playfully on the ass.
JC turns back and smiles, but the effect is ruined by the yawn that follows. He barely manages to fall onto the bed before he's asleep.
A short time later, by some miracle, Lance manages to finish everything. There's not a paper that hasn't had his attention, an email that hasn't been dealt with. He takes a quick shower to wash away the night's grunge, then crawls quietly into the bed with JC. With the drapes closed, the room is pitch black, just the way Lance likes it, but he can hear JC's quiet, soothing breathing. Lance spoons behind JC, taking in the warmth of his friend's body, content to just lie here, but soon he too is sound asleep.
JC wakes up a couple of hours later, feels Lance holding him and sighs contentedly. He snuggles in closer and drifts back to sleep again.
As usual, it's the phone that awakens him. Lance reaches blindly for it and grumbles, "Go away," into the receiver.
"Come on, dude, it's like 2:00. Let's go shopping or something."
"Go . . . away, Joey. I was up all night working. And don't bother JC, either. He was here helping me." He hangs up the phone, satisfied, and kisses the back of JC's head. JC really did help him. Without complaining, with out whining, without so much as one negative word.
" 'Sit time to get up?" JC asks, confused.
Lance sighs and rubs JC's arm. "You can stay in bed as long as you want."
"Mmm. Don't tell me that. You may never get rid of me."
Lance falls back against the pillow. He knows JC is just kidding, but the words still make him wonder. Is he getting too serious?
JC senses Lance's reaction. "It was a joke, dude. I'm not, like, moving in with you."
"I knew that. It's not like you could, anyway. We're never home."
"See? You're safe."
"Yeah. I should probably get ready."
"Yeah. Did you finish everything after I went to sleep?"
"Just about. I couldn't have done it without you, you know. You saved my butt."
JC sits up and rubs his face. "Glad I could help."
"You don't have to get up now."
"I'll just, you know, go back to my room. So you can do whatever."
"No, don't be silly. I can take it in the next room. You're already here, and the bed is, um, already warm."
JC is already sinking back into the pillow. "Okay. As long as I'm not in your way."
"No, you're not." But as Lance leaves the room, he wonders when JC became so irresistible.
JC rolls over onto Lance's pillow, breathing in Lance's scent as he drifts back into sleep.
*****
With his other business out of the way, Lance can concentrate on the show. He feels pretty good about it, and after the show they all go out clubbing.
After last night's hard work followed by so much sleep, JC is ready to move. And move he does, hardly ever leaving the dance floor.
By the time they get back to the hotel Lance is so exhausted all he wants to do is sleep. He takes JC by the hand and leads him bleary- eyed and wavering to his room.
JC follows, tired and buzzed, acquiescent.
A trail of clothes leads to the bed. Lance manages to brush his teeth and wash before falling in a heap on the mattress, taking JC in his arms like a life-sized stuffed animal. Soon, he's fast asleep.
When JC wakes up hours later, he's still wrapped around, draped over Lance. Always conscious of their first night together, he eases himself away, curling up so they're still touching, but his weight isn't on Lance.
Once again, the shrill sound of the phone wakes Lance. Rubbing his eyes, he smiles. He knows it's Joey and he knows what Joey's going to say even before he picks up the receiver, but Lance doesn't care. Today is a day off, and the clock tells him he's had enough sleep. He reaches for JC and plays with his very bed-tousled hair while he speaks to Joey.
"We're going to Six Flags. Be ready in 30 minutes."
" 'Kay," Lance mumbles back, returning the phone to it's base. "Hey, we're going to Six Flags. Be ready in thirty minutes," Lance says to the room.
"Thirty regular minutes or thirty Joey minutes?" JC mumbles.
"Thirty Joey minutes. Which means we have, like, 15."
"Noooooo," JC groans, but he sits up. "This requires planning. And separate showers." He gets up and starts picking up his scattered belongings.
"I'll meet you downstairs. And JC, whatever anyone says when it's time to leave the park, say you're busy."
"Busy, got it. See you down there."
Lance loves days like this. No obligations, no demands, just five guys and their friends out having fun. Well, with a bunch of bodyguards, but even they are family now. They ride the rides, eat lots of junk food, play games, and act like boys.
"So, where we going now?" Joey asks the group.
"Uh, I gotta go make some calls," announces Lance.
"I'm, um, busy," JC says, realizing how lame he sounds.
"You guys are both lame," echoes Joey.
Lance motions to JC. "C'mon, let's hitch a ride back to the hotel. Once inside the car, he instructs, "We'll go change--put on something casual but nice."
"Sure," JC replies, wondering what Lance is up to.
In his room, he examines and rejects clothes, finally settling on tan leather pants and a thin, tight sweater.
Lance knocks on the door and waits.
JC, looking in the mirror, gives his hair one final tug, then strides over to the door and opens it .
When JC appears before him, Lance gives him the once over. "Wow! You look great."
JC smiles self-consciously. "Thanks. So do you."
"C'mon. We don't want to waste our stylish wardrobe here."
"Where to?"
"It's a surprise." Lance smiles mysteriously and leads JC to a waiting car, and they drive in silence to the jazz club Lance had heard about that he knew JC would love.
"Wow," JC breathes as they walk in. "This is . . . wow."
"Brian McKnight says this place is kickin'."
"I can't believe you did this. For me."
"You sacrificed your night off to help me. It's the least I can do."
"Well, it's like the best thing you could ever do."
"You really are low maintenance, JC." They're led to a small table on a raised part of the floor near the back. The table has a single candle providing dim, sultry lighting, and when the waitress comes over Lance orders a bottle of red wine.
"I can be demanding if you want," JC says, smiling.
"That could be fun."
"I'll see what I can come up with."
"I'm sure you could . . . come up . . . with something."
JC takes advantage of the shadowy corner to lean in close. "I think something's coming up already," he purrs.
"Yeah?" Lance leers, dropping a hand on JC's leg.
"Keep touching me like that and you'll see."
Fortunately, there's a tablecloth draped over the table, and when the band takes the small stage at the front of the room everyone's attention is focused on them. Lance slides his hand up JC's leg to the sizable bulge at his crotch, which he begins to rub.
JC's eyes widen, and he takes a hasty gulp of his wine.
The music is soft and sexy, and Lance watches the band play as he opens JC's pants and slips his hand inside.
JC closes his eyes and chews on his lower lip.
Lance begins to stroke in time to the music, slowly sensually.
JC feels surrounded by sensation. The seductive sounds of the excellent band. The rich flavor of the wine on his lips. Lance's cool strong hand on his aching erection. Lance himself begins to move in time to the beat, bopping his head and moving his shoulders without ever taking his attention from JC's heat. JC manages to open his eyes and watch Lance, who's looking particularly enticing. JC is practically bursting with love for this unpredictable boy-man.
Lance takes a sip of wine as he slows his pace on JC's erection. He gives the organ a gentle squeeze before resuming his rhythm.
JC looks away from Lance to stare at the candle, biting his lip again to keep from moaning out loud . His hips begin subtly to follow the movement of Lance's hand, as his breathing becomes quicker and more shallow.
The tempo of the song increases, and so does Lance's hand. Even over the music Lance can hear the soft sounds coming from JC's throat as he nears climax. JC brings his hand to his mouth and bites down hard as he comes, but he still can't keep a little whimpery moan from escaping. His hips buck against Lance's hand, and it takes all his muscle control to keep the movement unnoticeable beyond their little corner.
Lance keeps a straight face the entire time, bringing a napkin to JC's lap to clean him off, and just when he's sure that JC is spent the music stops and the crowd applauds appreciatively.
When he can trust his voice, JC leans over and says, "I should do your paperwork more often. Gee, Lance, what do I get if I do your taxes?"
"You know what our taxes are like. That could take days."
JC smiles a naughty smile that somehow also manages to be sweet. "I know."
"Have some more wine."
JC settles back in his chair and sips, able to concentrate now on the flavor. "This is pretty good. Good choice."
"I remembered you once ordered it. It's not bad."
JC takes another sip. "What do you think of the band?"
"They're pretty good. I thought you might like them--maybe it will give you some ideas."
"Yeah, I can write more songs that don't make the album."
"Aw, now, you got a lot of songs on the album."
"And a lot didn't get on."
"So we'll just have to get them on the next album. Your songs are good--we could just put so much on one album. Look, Chris's song didn't even make it."
"Yeah, I know. Some stuff just bothers me, though. Like Wade singing parts that should have been you."
Lance shrugs. "It was a business decision."
"I'm not good at separating stuff out like that."
"I know. But it's not like your songs will never get used. We had to go with what everyone agreed on."
"I know that. It doesn't mean I have to like it."
"Look, have some more wine, listen to the music, and think about the next album."
"Sorry. I guess I was obsessing."
"It's okay. It's in your blood. Music, I mean. I guess I'm that way about my stuff too."
"I noticed."
"I love it, though. I love everything about it. Reading the scripts, finding the right project for the right people. It's what I've always wanted to do."
"And you're good at it. You're so lucky, to have something else you're good at."
"What are talking about? So do you."
"Not really. Music's all I can do."
"But you do so many things with music. You write, you produce, you create. You're always thinking and breathing this stuff. And you're good in sports."
JC laughs his high pitched, fall off the chair giggle. "You been reading my press releases again, dude? Did you see me sink one basket at Challenge?"
Lance smiles back. He loves watching JC laugh. "You scored. You scored plenty."
"That was Justin."
"You know what we're gonna do? We're gonna watch the tape. I'll prove it."
"I'll bring the popcorn."
"You're gonna eat a lot more than popcorn when you find out how wrong you are."
"I'll, um, eat anything you want me to."
Lance takes a large gulp of wine. "Later, darlin'."
JC gives Lance a wide-eyed, innocent look. "You haven't proved me wrong, yet."
"Oh, really? You're wrong about not having any other talents."
"We were talking about whether I hit any baskets at Challenge."
"Among your other talents." Lance takes another swallow, eyeing JC over the rim of the glass.
"This is why you're good at the negotiating thing."
"A deal's only good if both parties get something out of it."
"So, what do I get if I'm right?"
"You get to do whatever you want."
"That could be . . . fun."
They order more wine, listen to more music, and before long the band plays its last set. "Ready to move on?" Lance asks.
"Yeah. This was . . . incredibly thoughtful. Thanks."
"After the way you helped me, this was nothing. C'mon."
"Well, I still appreciate it," JC says, getting up and surreptitiously checking the front of his leather pants for evidence of their earlier activity.
Lance watches, a small smile playing on his lips, and they head back to the hotel. Even at this hour there's a small crowd of girls outside, and the boys oblige. Lance wonders how he can even spell his name after the bottles of wine they polished off.
They finally make it to the elevator, and JC leans against the back wall, contentedly, humming a riff from one of the songs they'd heard tonight.
"See, now that's good. That's the type of thing we should try next."
"Yeah? You don't think everyone will say it's too different from what we're doing?"
"Pop was different from what we were doing, and everyone likes that."
"Yeah. I feel like I got some good ideas."
"About music, right?"
"Right," JC says with a smouldering look. "About music."
"Just music?"
"It was very . . . sexy music."
"Yeah, it was. It definitely was sexy. So that gives you ideas?"
"One or two . . . "
"Care to tell me about them?"
"I'd rather show you."
"I'd rather you did too. Like, now."
"In the elevator?"
"Well, we're almost at my room."
"Thank goodness."
Lance leads the way down the hall and even with the buzz he's got going he manages to slide his card into the lock and push open the door.
JC steps in first, and turns quickly, shutting the door by pushing Lance up against it and kissing him hard.
Taken by surprise, Lance puts his hands on JC's chest but then grabs his shirt and pulls him close.
After a few minutes, JC pulls back, breathless. "So, you like my idea?"
"It's okay."
JC pouts. "Just okay? You got something better?"
"I want to hear ALL your ideas."
JC leaves Lance standing against the door and goes to the entertainment center, switches on the radio and fiddles around till he finds a jazz station. He turns on one lamp and walks back over to Lance, turning off the overhead light as he goes. "Atmosphere," he says as he leads Lance into the room.
"Inspiration," Lance adds, kicking off his shoes.
"Conflagration," JC whispers, kissing Lance again, as hard as before.
"It's getting very hot in here," Lance breathes, when they part.
"Then I'll just have to take your clothes off . . . "
Lance holds his arms out at his sides and smiles dreamily, his eyes half-lidded.
JC slowly unbuttons Lance's shirt, fingers made clumsy by drink. He finally unfastens them all and slides the shirt off Lance's shoulders. "Better?" he asks, running his tongue along Lance's collar bone and blowing on the wet patch.
"Yeah, a little," Lance croaks.
JC licks a path down Lance's sternum to his navel and again blows on the wet area. "How 'bout that?"
Lance shivers, cradling JC's head, and his stomach contracts. "Better. Oh, yeah."
JC looks up with a mischievous grin. "You cold now?"
"I'm wet now. Warm me up."
JC lets one hand drift over the already forming bulge in Lance's pants. "You seem all warmed up to me."
"That's just the opening act."
"So, if I took your pants off, it wouldn't make you chilly?"
"It would make me happy."
"Well, then, I better do it." And JC proceeds to unbutton Lance's jeans and slide down the zipper.
Lance watches with the same intensity he has when he watches Wade teach them a new dance move. He studies the way JC's fingers deftly work the buttons, the long, slender digits that create such beautiful music now performing a common task just as gracefully. He sighs, content, knowing how lucky he is.
JC slides the jeans down Lance's muscular legs. The jeans are quickly followed by boxer-briefs. JC pushes Lance into the chair behind him and removes both garments along with his socks. He slowly brings his hands up Lance's legs until they stop just below his erection.
Lance grips the armrests of the chair. "Why'd you stop?" he rasps, his accent more pronounced after all the wine he consumed.
JC shivers at the sound. He loves Lance's accent. "I wanted to make sure you were paying attention. "
"You have got my complete, undivided attention."
"Good to know." JC slides his hands up the remaining inch, bringing his thumbs to rest against Lance's balls, massaging them lightly.
Lance digs his fingers into the chair's upholstery. JC's gentle touch is torture, but Lance loves every minute of it.
Keeping up the gentle pressure of his thumbs, JC leans in and runs just the very tip of his tongue lightly up Lance's swelling erection.
Lance brings his hands to JC's hair, twirling the long, silky locks between his fingers.
JC repeats the movement with his tongue, this time flattening it and making the touch firm rather than fleeting.
"JC, that feels soooo good," purrs Lance.
JC grins. "It's about to feel better." He takes Lance's hot stiffness slowly into his mouth.
Lance throws his head back and turns his eyes toward the ceiling. JC was right; it feels better by the second.
JC gives this activity the same concentration, the same attention he gives to everything he cares to do well. He moves over Lance's erection, varying the pace, using his tongue, gauging Lance's every reaction.
Lance pants steadily, eyes closed now, giving himself over to JC. He's completely at JC's will. Once again, he brings his hands to JC's head and cradles it lovingly.
After several minutes, JC lifts his head, although he continues to massage Lance's balls. Looking up soulfully, he says, "I want you."
Lance cups JC's cheek and gazes down at his friend. How can JC be so giving? How is it that Lance can't resist him? Lance nods, drawing JC up so he can taste those full sensual lips.
Knowing what an odd picture they make, one naked and one fully clothed, JC straddles Lance on the chair as they kiss.
Lance quickly pulls off JC's sweater and presses his palms against the warm flesh of JC's toned chest.
JC presses his chest against Lance's cool hands as he presses his tongue deep into Lance's mouth. He grinds their hips together, his leather pants smooth against Lance's heat. In one swift move, Lance supports JC's legs and flips them both onto the floor, landing softly on the carpet.
"Do you practice that, dude?"
"Wade taught it to me."
"Lucky Wade."
"You could teach him a thing or two."
"He's not getting any of MY secrets," JC says with a smile as he guides Lance's mouth to his own again.
"My lips are sealed," Lance whispers.
Lance's lips are so close that JC can feel their heat, feel the breath puff against his skin. And then they're kissing, and JC tastes red wine and Lance. As they kiss, their tongues dancing and dueling, Lance slips one hand between their bodies and begins to rub JC's sizable bulge. JC reacts immediately as he feels Lance's hand press smoothly against the leather of his pants. He groans lightly and thrusts his tongue more deeply into Lance's warm, wet mouth.
Lance devours JC's tongue as he quickly opens JC's pants and slides his hand inside to encase JC's burning erection in his palm. JC slides his hands down Lance's back to squeeze the firm globes of his ass.
Lance moves under JC's hands, grinding his hips against JC's body, trapping his hand between them.
The pressure of Lance's body pinning him to the floor arouses JC even more than he already had been. He breaks their kiss, nearly gasping for breath.
Lance kneels back to remove the rest of JC's clothes. After tossing them aside, Lance runs his hands up JC's legs and pauses when he gets to the pulsing organ. "Mmmm, someone's horny," he remarks.
"More than one someone, I think."
"I can't help it. Look what you did to me."
"What are we going to do about that?"
"This." Lance reaches between JC's legs and finds that hot, sensitive spot. He thrusts his fingers inside, bringing his lips to JC's mouth at the same time, plunging his tongue inside, tasting the tangy wine that still lingers on JC's tongue.
JC cries out, but the sound is muffled by Lance's mouth covering, consuming his. He can't remember ever being this aroused. Lance certainly knows how to draw things out so their lovemaking is sweet torture.
Lance kisses JC's cheek and then nibbles on his ear, breathing heavily as he removes his fingers and draws JC's knees up. He rubs his own painfully hard erection against JC before pushing inside, gasping against JC's neck. "You feel so good, darlin'."
"Not as good as you," JC whispers back.
Lance pulls out just a little before thrusting back in. The fact that he's not wearing a condom hasn't crossed his mind; he just went with the moment, and being this close to JC clouds his judgement .
JC grunts as he's penetrated even more deeply. He wraps his arms around Lance again, holding him tightly as they rock against each other.
Lance lifts JC's legs higher, placing JC's feet on his shoulders so he can penetrate even deeper. He's blinded by the intensity of the sensation. He wants JC to experience this feeling just as much, so he presses his palm against JC's hot member and rubs it against JC's well-toned abs.
JC's head turns from side to side feverishly against the roughness of the carpet as he gasps out his pleasure. Balancing himself on one arm, Lance moves rapidly inside JC, causing the most amazing sensation. Sweat trickles down his back as he nears climax, and low moans escape his throat as he increases his tempo even more.
JC cries out again, hoarsely, raspily. He's never felt anything more powerful, more purely physical, in his life.
Lance's face is a mask of intense concentration as finds his release. Turning his head to the side, he grunts quietly as he comes, never ceasing to thrust as he brings JC over the edge. JC repeats Lance's name again and again, starting with a shout, but ending in a whisper. Lance releases JC's legs and collapses, spent and exhausted and buries his face in JC's shoulder. JC cradles Lance to his chest, rubbing his back soothingly and murmuring nonsense. Lance drifts off, that heavy, postcoital intoxicated dreamless sleep.
JC wriggles out from under Lance and pads into the bathroom where he cleans himself. He goes back out to Lance, coaxes him onto his back and does the same for him. He grabs the pillows and the comforter off the bed and curls up on the floor next to Lance, covering them both and lifting Lance's heavy head onto the pillow.
*****
The light streaming through the window falls on the boys and wakes Lance first. He groans, covering his eyes, then struggles to remember how they ended up on the floor. The comforter is half on, half off, and he adjusts it to cover JC completely. Lance manages to get to his feet, like a bird who is taking its first walk. He staggers to the bathroom and gets the shower running, then goes over in his mind everything he has to do today. By the time he's dressed and ready to leave, he's got his itinerary memorized. Before heading out, he crouches by JC's head, brushes the hair back from his face with his fingertips, and gives him a soft kiss on the cheek. Then he's gone.
When JC finally awakens, he knows instinctively that Lance is gone. He crawls up onto the bed, dragging the comforter after him, and curls up there, content, thinking about the night before. It feels like, well, it feels like a turning point. Lance was so attentive, and so thoughtful. And the sex--JC has never felt anything like that before. And the fact that Lance didn't feel the need to use protection--that has to mean something, right? He considers showering here, but the thought of putting last night's clothing on his freshly showered body is unappealing, so he quickly dresses and slips into his own room.
*****
Stacy, Ford, and several of Lance's friends fly in that day for the night's show, and afterward they head straight to the clubs without giving it another thought. When JC looks around for Lance that night, he's nowhere to be found. Melinda runs into him wandering around the floor and asks, "Can I do something for you, JC?"
"I was just looking for Lance."
"He left about a half an hour ago. You need the itinerary for tomorrow or something?"
"Um, no, I'm all set." JC goes back to his room and sits in the dark for a long time, before crawling into bed.