Forever Young: Big Poppa
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Number 7 in the series.
JC didn't know why, but Lou made him nervous. The man was investing in them, helping them, and JC knew he should be grateful, but something about how he looked at them--avarice and disapproval wrapped into one--gave JC the creeps. And now he was coming over here to check up on his investment. On THEM.
"So which one do you like the best? Josh? Hello?" Lance waves the Abercrombie catalogue in front of his boyfriend's face bringing him back to earth. "What's wrong?"
"Huh? Oh, nothing." JC doesn't want to infect Lance with his negativity. "Just zoning. Sorry. Show me again?"
"Are you sure there's nothing wrong? You look funny. I was just trying to decide which color looks better. I like the yellow but the blue's cool too." Just then, the van they're in pulls into the parking lot of the BMG offices. They're meeting with Lou today; this is the part of the business that interests Lance. The business itself--the marketing, the contracts, and yes, the money. He's curious to hear what Lou has to say. So far, he's been encouraging, but sometimes Lance doesn't feel all that comfortable around him. He can't put his finger on it; it's nothing Lou has said or done. Lance shakes his head, clearing his mind and preparing himself for whatever news Lou has.
JC peers at the catalog. "Yellow." He smiles reassuringly at Lance. "No, nothing's wrong. Just a little nervous, I guess. This guy has so much power over us, you know?" There. He's dropped a hint. If Lance feels the same he'll pick up on it.
"Hmmm." Lance chews his thumbnail, mulling over JC's statement. Maybe they're both just being paranoid, he reasons. Still, if something bothers JC it has to be important. "There's nothing to be nervous about, J." He puts his hand on JC's thigh and squeezes gently. The van pulls to a stop and they all pile out, chiding each other playfully. When they reach the office where Lou has temporarily set up shop, their manager greets them warmly, hugging each boy in turn.
"Good to see you boys. Help yourselves," Lou says, gesturing to a table of soft drinks. He leans on the edge of his desk as they all get settled and folds his arms across his chest. "Now, things are looking pretty good. We've got to talk about putting together an album, and I want to up your scheduled appearances and get things moving quicker. And I have some things I'd like to go over with each of you."
Lance braces himself. He knows, being the last one in and the least experienced, that much of what Lou has to say will be directed at him. Still, he listens attentively.
JC has already learned that the more genial Lou seems, the more brutal he's about to be. Does he have any idea, comfortably back home in Florida, how hard they work, how they've all struggled with homesickness, what a challenge it is, no matter how kind their hosts, no matter how many people here speak English, to deal with day to day life when you don't speak the language?
After dispensing with the group business, Lou gets to more personal matters. "Okay, let's start with Justin. Everything looks good there--the press on you is good, you're very popular with the girls, so keep that up."
Justin shrugs, bored and annoyed at this part of the meeting.
"Joey, looking good. Just watch the crazy outfits, okay? The Superman thing seems to be working."
Joey smirks. That's 'cause I really do LIKE Superman. It's not a THING. But he doesn't say it. He just smiles and nods. "You got it, Lou."
"Chris, how long until the braces come off?"
"Soon, Lou."
"Good."
When Lou turns to JC, Chris flashes his teeth. Lance suppresses a laugh and turns his face away. "JC, I hear you're working on some songs. For now, Max has some good tunes he'd like you boys to try out."
"Okay." Why does Lou make him feel like a not-too-bright six year old? Still, that wasn't too rough, which must mean he's saving his ire for Lance. JC looks over at his boyfriend, silently giving support.
Lance sits with his elbow on the armrest of his chair, hand covering his mouth.
"Lance, have you been working on your dancing?"
"Yes, sir, I have."
"Well, I'd like to see you work on it some more. You need to get up to speed with the rest of the boys."
"Yes, sir. I'll try harder." He shifts in the seat, hoping that's all Lou has to say. But it's not.
"We also need to do something about your look. I want shy, not feminine."
Joey snickers. Chris moves forward in his chair. "Feminine? It's not like he wears dresses."
"He's coming off as too 'pretty' in photos. Let's do something about your hair, maybe lighten it or something."
"Okay." Lance can feel his face getting hot and hopes the other guys will just ignore him. He doesn't even want to look at JC right now.
Chris puts in, "Won't people think he's MORE feminine if he dyes his hair?"
"Chris!" JC says dangerously.
"What? I don't think the kid should have to dye his hair is all."
Lance doesn't want all this attention drawn to him, so he chimes in. "It's okay, Chris, it's only hair."
Chris looks at Lance hard, then relents. "Fine. Anything else, Lou?"
"Not yet. But I'll be at your show tonight. Then we'll talk again."
*****
"I feel ridiculous."
"Nonsense. Lots of boys have their hair dyed." Carla, the stylist, is busy painting the chemicals from his roots to the ends.
Lance stares at his reflection. His hair is sticking out every which way, covered in thick, white cream. He doesn't understand why it was okay for Chris to keep his hair long but he had to have his hair colored. Lou said Chris's hair fit his "wild boy" image. Image is everything to Lou.
"There. We'll leave that in for 20 minutes and when we rinse it out, you'll be a new man."
Lance smirks. I like the old me better. He just hoped JC would like him after this. But then he remembers that one of the things he loves best about JC is that he never judges people by the way they look. Still, Lance can't help feeling a bit insecure about this ordeal. So to distract himself, he picks up the textbook he brought with him and begins to read.
*****
JC putters around his and Justin's room, waiting for Lance to come back. He knows Lance is nervous about this and he wishes he could have gone with him, but how would they have explained that? So he stares at his notebook, pen in hand, waiting for inspiration to strike, listening for a knock at the door.
*****
"There. Not so bad, eh?" Carla smooths out Lance's noticeably lighter locks with some gel and teases up the front. He has to admit: It's not as bad as he thought it would be, but he still doesn't like the idea that he HAD to change his looks because someone told him to. "Maybe you should have dyed it purple." Carla laughs, swatting him on the back as he leaves. He can't stop touching the back of his neck as he heads back toward the hotel, back to JC.
*****
Tapping lightly at the door, Lance anticipates his boyfriend's reaction.
JC opens the door and his eyes widen. "Hey," he says, stepping back to let Lance in. He walks around the younger boy, checking his hair from all angles. "You look different," he says when he's in front of Lance again. He leans in for a kiss. "But you still taste like you."
Lance pulls back. "Careful, it might be catchy. And I don't think blond's your color."
"I'll take my chances. So how do you like it?"
Lance walks over to the mirror. "It's all right, I guess. I guess I don't understand what was wrong with the way I looked."
"I don't either, but you know Lou. If he doesn't have something to complain about, he's not happy."
"It seems that way, doesn't it. I don't care, as long as we get to perform." Still staring at his reflection, Lance asks, "But Josh, do you think I look girly?"
"No. He's a jerk."
"You don't think he's picking up on anything?" Lance turns his head from side to side, trying to detect the slightest hint that says I'M GAY.
"Nah, he just picks on you 'cause he's mad that we didn't like his Jason guy."
"I didn't know that. I mean, I knew he didn't work out, but I didn't know he was Lou's choice. I can see why he'd be pissed. He's right about my dancing though. I really gotta work on that. I'm supposed to go over there now and work on some moves."
"I'll come with you." JC locates his key. "But you know that WE know you've really improved, right?"
"Yeah, I suck less than I did a month ago."
"Lance! Language! What would your mother say?"
"She'd say I suck too."
"She would not and you do not."
"Okay, she'd never say it to my face, but let's face it, compared to you and Justin and Chris and Joey, I suck."
"We've just been doing it longer. C'mon, we'll go work for a while."
And work they do. Three hours later, in a small rehearsal studio Lance spins around once more and freezes, dead on his mark. This time. That doesn't make up for the numerous times he missed it. But covered in sweat, his shirt drenched and his hair matted, he pants, "Hang on, I just want to grab some water."
"Hang on? That's enough for today. We've got a show in a couple of hours." JC tosses a towel to Lance. "You know, you're too hard on yourself. Not one of us is perfect every time, but that's what you expect of yourself. You just did that move 20 times. Only the last one was good enough for you. But a dozen of them were as good as Joey does it."
Catching the towel one-handed Lance leans his back to the mirror and slides to the floor, leaving a wet trail on the shiny surface. "Joey's better. I just don't want to embarrass you, you know?"
"You never could. And I'm not just saying that because I love you."
"You're biased." Lance chucks the sweaty towel back at his boyfriend.
JC catches the towel. "Ooh, a sweaty Lance Bass towel. You know how much this is going to be worth when we're famous?" JC extends a hand down to Lance. "C'mon. We'd better get back to the hotel."
Lance takes the hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet. "If that's ever worth something, I'll EAT that towel."
"I'll bring the ketchup." JC kisses Lance lightly.
*****
With Lou sitting in the crowd, Lance focuses his attention on the music only. He knows that the girls in the crowd will never notice whether he misses a step, but Lou will notice. As the lights come up, Lance glances over at JC; just one look from his friend will give him all the reassurance he needs.
JC grins at Lance, giving him a subtle thumbs up.
It's a good show. Maybe the knowledge that they're being judged inspires them, maybe all their rehearsal time is paying off. Whatever the reason, they really feel together tonight. Backstage, they hug and high-five, laughing and cheering, until Lou comes in.
"Not bad," he says, his eyes flicking from boy to boy. "But still not as much improvement as I would have liked."
Lance sighs and fidgets with his feet. Maybe Lou's right. Maybe he hasn't been improving as much as he should. He knows that comment was directed at him, not the other guys.
"Lou, we kicked ass out there," Chris argues.
"You did okay. I just want to see you do better, okay?" His eyes are focused on Lance as he says this, and Lance looks away, nodding.
"We ALL did great tonight," Joey insists, and all five boys instinctively draw closer, protectively.
"There's always room for improvement," Lou says quietly, then turns and walks out.
"That JERK!" Justin explodes. "What's he gotta pick on Lance for?"
"Lance was great tonight. We know it. HE knows it." Chris is practically jumping up and down in his intensity.
"It's okay, guys," Lance mumbles, wanting to push the attention off himself. "It was a fun show, and that's all that matters. I'll just make sure I rehearse more tomorrow." He starts packing up his stuff, needing to do something so he won't have to look at the faces staring at him.
"He's still a jerk," Justin mutters, throwing his stuff into his bag as well. In the quiet they can all hear one side of a conversation Justin's mother is having with Lou outside the dressing room. "...boys are all very close . . . shouldn't single one out like that . . . ALL been working very hard . . . Lance . . . three and four extra hours most days . . . "
Lance shakes his head, feeling his face getting hot once again. It's bad enough Lou's riding him, now they all have to be talking about him, including the moms.
Chris starts mimicking Lou. "You boys better start improving or I'm gonna give you all a spanking."
"No, Lou, don't spank me," Joey replies in a falsetto.
"Yes, a big spanking, little boy. And if you don't dye your hair, it's the rack for you!"
"Oooo, now you're talking."
Lance can't help but smile. They really have become close in such a short time. It's gotten to the point where they can criticize each other, but when someone else does it they all band together. Still, he just wants to get out of here, away from this kind of attention.
Lynn opens the door. "You boys ready?" Somberly, the elation they'd felt coming off stage completely deflated, they climb into the van.
Diane turns in her seat to look at the boys briefly, her heart going out to her son, sitting so quietly, dejectedly. She can't really interfere or even make a fuss over him; she knows Lance would hate that, but maybe she can give him something. A slight smile playing on her lips, she drops her sweater and pushes it under the seat.
When they get back to the hotel and are riding the elevator up to their floor, Diane exclaims, "Oh, my, I must have left my sweater back at the club. Lance, dear, could you go back and get it for--no, I don't want you driving here. You're not used to it. JC, would you take him, please?"
Surprised, Lance looks from his mother to JC and back again. He wants to hug her. He knows it's been hard for her to deal with him since he came out to her, but now, at this moment, it's as though she's declaring her acceptance. Or maybe he's making too much of it. He smiles and does hug her, saying, "We won't be long."
Diane takes the keys from Lynn and hands them to JC. "Take your time, boys. You know how bad the traffic can be."
JC accepts the keys. "We'll be careful." He turns to Lance. "Ready?"
"Yeah." They walk to the parking lot in silence, but when they're in the car, Lance asks, "You know, I could drive."
"I know you could. But I don't think we're going much of anywhere."
Lance's head snaps sideways, eyes wide. "We aren't?"
JC reaches down between Lance's feet and pulls out the sweater, the sleeve of which he'd seen poking out. "Your mom is so cute."
Amazed, Lance blinks at JC, unable to believe that his mother could be so conniving. He reaches for the sweater. "I don't get it. Why would she--oh."
JC grins. "Oh. I guess she thought you needed some cheering up."
Lance folds the sweater in his hands carefully. "I guess."
JC starts the van's engine. "She's been great, your mom." He pulls the van into a more secluded spot, a shadowed corner between two buildings.
"Yeah, she has," Lance agrees quietly. "She had a tough time with this at first, but I think the fact that she liked you . . . before . . . really helps."
"Yeah. And I think she sees that we really care about each other." JC turns in his seat and takes Lance's hand. "So, how are you doing?"
"I'm fine. Really. I know you guys are worried, but I'm okay. Lou's right. I do need to work harder."
"That's where you're wrong. No one works harder than you do. And we all know it. Lou is like a schoolyard bully. He picks on whoever he think is weakest. And you're soft-spoken and polite, which he takes as weakness."
"Do you think I'm weak?"
"No, I don't. You could never have done the things you've done if you were. You wouldn't have had the guts to come to Orlando and audition for the group if you were. You're just quiet about it."
Lance nods, absorbing JC's words. He never really did feel weak, not until Lou put him down like that. No one ever talked to him like that--not his Attache musical director, not the various vocal coaches he worked with, and NEVER his parents. "Lou's a smart businessman. He wouldn't invest in us if he didn't believe in us."
"Yeah, he is. But I also think he likes intimidating people. You just keep doing what you're doing. You're improving all the time, and we all know it."
"You think? I mean, let's face it--I'm no Justin Timberlake."
"I know. We already had one of those. What we needed was a you."
Laughing, Lance replies, "You needed a me who could dance."
"You're getting there, Lance. You really are. I'm so proud of you. You've accomplished in a year what the rest of had years of training for."
"Thanks, JC. I appreciate you saying that. Your opinion means more to me than anyone besides my parents. I just want this to work out so badly. For all of us."
"And it will. We're in this together, babe, all of us. All the guys support you. You know that, right?"
"I know. Everyone's been great. I know Justin sometimes gets a little frustrated, but I don't blame him. But Josh, you've been great too. I want you to know how much these past few months have meant to me."
"I know, baby. You show me every day. And I feel the same way."
"You believed in me. I know it must have been weird in the beginning to have a new guy come along, especially a hick like me, but you gave me a chance." Lance turns his eyes up to the older boy. "Thanks, Josh."
JC lays his hand against Lance's cheek. "Best decision I ever made."
The hand is warm against his skin. Warm as JC's heart. Lance smiles and looks down, exhaling. "So, what do we do now?"
"I was thinking you could kiss me."
Lance turns his face and leans across the seat. Slowly, he brings his face closer until their lips are almost touching. With his eyes closed, he can feel JC's soft breath against his face, and finally he brings his lips to JC's.
Lance's lips are so soft, so warm, that JC feels like he's melting into the kiss. He leans closer, his hand slipping around Lance's waist and pulling him into a tight embrace.
Lance pulls away suddenly, looking down at the space between them. "Um, maybe we should . . . " and he gestures to the back seat, where there's more room.
"Mmmmm. You're so smart. Another reason I love you."
They climb awkwardly over the seats and land in a heap on the middle seat, Lance on top of JC. He moves off, red-faced, when he feels a twitching in his groin. "Sorry."
JC pulls him back. "I liked it."
Lance's heart pounds in his chest. He's pressed tightly against JC and he can feel JC's body heat through their layers of clothes. He kisses JC again, this time more urgently.
JC opens his mouth, inviting Lance to explore as his hand slides up under the fabric of Lance's shirt, tracing patterns against the warm, soft skin.
Lance's tongue glides over JC's teeth, against the roof of his mouth, and finally finds JC's tongue, less awkwardly than he had mere months ago. He leans against JC, pressing him back against the seat, until he's once again laying on top of the more experienced boy. He can feel the bulge in JC's pants through his own, and he pulls at the hem of JC's shirt.
JC slides his hands down the length of Lance's back and squeezes his ass, grinding their hips together. His mouth practically devours Lance's, his lips and tongue moving constantly.
Lance's body jerks at the contact, so urgent is his need at this moment. His hands slip inside JC's shirt and are all over his chest, his fingers finding and gently squeezing JC's nipples.
JC draws Lance's shirt up, caressing the exposed skin as he goes. When he reaches Lance's shoulder blades, he slips his hands down to Lance's waist again, then starts moving up his stomach and chest till he reaches the already taut nipples.
Unaware he's even doing it, Lance begins moving his hips against JC. The feather-light touch of JC's hands on his skin cause him to whimper against JC's neck. All the tension, all the criticism he's faced today come to the surface.
"Baby? Are you okay?" JC pushes the hair back from Lance's hot forehead, trying to see his face, which the angle and the dim light prevent.
"Uh huh. I...I'm just . . . oh my gosh, JC, when I'm with you I can't even control myself. What's wrong with me?"
"You're seventeen. You're not supposed to control yourself."
"Tell that to my mom." He moans against the sweat dampened skin of JC's neck as his pants become increasingly tight.
"Uh, no thanks." JC rolls them so they're lying side by side. "I'd rather make you more out of control."
"If I get any more out of control this van's going to explode."
"Are you kidding? This fine German engineering?"
"So, are you saying it can withstand all kinds of stress?"
"Let's test it."
Lance pushes his fear down as his lust for JC overtakes him. He knows they have to be careful, but right now there's only one thing on his mind. He leans in for another kiss, pulling at JC's shirt desperately.
JC pulls away, removes Lance's shirt and his own before plunging in for another heated kiss.
Lance's hands cling to JC's chest like metal to a magnet. He toys with JC's nipples, rubbing his thumbs against the hard peaks as his tongue plays along the inside of JC's moist mouth. His erection presses forcefully against his jeans, begging to be freed.
JC forces his hand between their tightly pressed bodies, rubbing Lance's erection hard, digging in with the heel of his hand.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Lance wraps his arms around JC and thrusts into JC's hand. Even through the fabric of his jeans, he can feel the heat of JC's hand.
JC quickly twitches open the button and slides down the zipper, tugging Lance's jeans down and slipping his hand into the opening of his shorts to grasp the hot, hard member.
Lance moans in JC's ear, louder than he would have liked. He moves against the hand as he presses his forehead against JC's. "Josh," he whispers quietly this time.
"Lance," JC replies, a smile audible in his voice. He presses Lance into the seat, kissing his throat and moving downward to trace his tongue over the contours of Lance's chest.
Lance turns his eyes to the roof of the van. Taking a deep breath, he slows his thrusts. JC's wet tongue tickles his skin, sending a shiver up his spine. Without much room to move, Lance squirms against the seat, knowing he won't be able to contain himself much longer.
Feeling Lance's urgency, JC quickly licks his way over Lance's stomach and, in one swift movement slips Lance's underwear over his hips and takes his hardness into his mouth.
Lance arches his back and cries out. This was not what he expected; he grips JC's head and curls up in the seat, sweat streaming from his forehead and dampening the upholstery.
JC's head bobs up and down as he moves up and down the long shaft, tongue swirling. Lance's cry, his reaction, spurs him on, makes him want to see how else Lance will react. Small grunting noises emerge from Lance's throat every time JC plunges down Lance's erection.
Lance bites his lip to keep from coming, but being so young and inexperienced, he can't control what his body wants. Before he realizes what's happening, in a moment that he will remember as one of his most embarrassing, his orgasm rips through him and into JC's mouth. JC swallows rapidly, then waits until he feels the pulsing member soften before letting it slip from his mouth. He lets his head rest against Lance's stomach, arms around his waist and listens to his pulse, his breathing returning to normal.
When he can finally speak, Lance says quietly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . so quickly. Man, this is not my day." He laughs, embarrassed, and gently rubs JC's head.
"Did it feel good?"
Lance lifts his head, stunned. "You have to ask?"
"Well, then, there's nothing to apologize about."
"JC, I'm a total loser. I can't dance and now I can't even . . . you know."
"What? It was your first time. Trust me. I didn't last any longer the first time."
"You're just saying that."
"You know me better than that. When have I ever just said anything?"
"But Josh, if this is how I am the first time I do this, what happens when we . . . I mean, IF we . . . I mean, WHEN we . . . do it for real?"
JC climbs back up to sit, lifting Lance and then settling his head in his lap. "I'll just have to pleasure you so much between now and then that you'll be used to it."
At the thought, Lance almost feels himself getting hard again. "But what about you? That can't have been much fun for you."
"You don't think so? I love you. I love making you feel good."
"I want to make you feel good too."
"You do, baby. You do."
Lance reaches his hand up to touch JC's face. "But not like that. Like this." And he slides his hand to JC's chest, along the sweat-soaked planes of his muscles.
JC takes Lance's hand and kisses the palm. "We don't have time. Your mom gave us this time together, but I don't want her to regret trusting us."
Sighing, Lance turns his head. "You're right. And I'm sure she wouldn't be thrilled if she knew what we were doing." He pushes himself up to a sitting position and pulls up his pants. Then he turns to JC quickly and kisses his lips. "I promise next time will be better."
"Do you hear me complaining?" JC steals one more kiss before searching for his shirt.
"No. But I hate this having to rush all the time. I just want some time with you." Lance finds JC's shirt and tosses it to him, then reaches in the front seat for his own.
"That's why it's important that we show we can be trusted, you know? So we'll get to spend time together."
"I guess. No, you're right. It's just that . . . we've been seeing each other for a few months now. I just . . . never mind." He opens the door and climbs out, then opens the front door to retrieve his mother's sweater.
"What, Lance?" JC climbs out, checking to make sure he still has the keys before locking the doors.
As he walks over to JC's side of the van, Lance says nonchalantly, "It's nothing. It's just that lately I've been thinking about . . . you know."
JC takes one look at Lance and leads him back around to the dark, protected side of the van. "You might want to put that shirt on right side out." JC tousles Lance's hair. "What have you been thinking about?"
Lance pulls his head away, smiling, embarrassed yet again. He hands JC the sweater, lifts his shirt up over his head and turns it right side out, saying, "You know. About us. About us doing . . . you know. Other things."
JC notices that Lance managed to time it so his face was hidden behind the shirt when he said what he needed to say.
"What happened to Mr. Let's Take This Really Slow?"
"I know, I know. I did say that. And we should. But it's not easy after we did what we did."
JC takes Lance's hand and starts leading him back to the hotel. "Yeah, it is. We'll get there. When the time is right."
Lance looks over at JC, who gazes straight ahead. He's right, Lance thinks. He's comforted with the knowledge that JC knows exactly what he's doing. So confident, so sure. And somehow, Lance knows that from now on things are going to get better.