Inspired by pictures of Lance's house. Especially the shower curtains.
Closet Space
by Karen and LB
© 2002
"So this is the sunroom, and those chairs at the bar are real bamboo."
JC grins, wondering how Lance KNOWS all this stuff. Did the decorator train him? "It's a great room. Really sunny. Oh, um, yeah. Sunroom."
"It's my favorite room. I don't know, I just love the light in here and stuff. Okay, I'll show you my other favorite room." He leads his friends through the house and up the stairs to the second floor, to a brightly decorated room featuring Dr. Seuss characters. "This is the Dr. Seuss room," announces Lance.
Chris, of course, teases Lance about having a Seuss room, but the others get into the spirit of it and admire the furnishings and the hand painted illustrations on the wall.
Soon, Lance leads them down the hall to the medieval-style master bedroom with its elaborately decorated bathroom. Joey hops on the bed and lands on his back. "Sweet."
"You didn't like that mattress, did you, dude?" JC asks as he follows Lance into the bathroom.
"It's okay. That thing is like the firmest mattress on the planet."
"Not anymore."
Lance grins. "So this is the bathroom."
"That would explain the toilet and the tub and all."
Chris pokes his head in. "What's with all the shower curtains, dude?"
"Oh, that's something my decorator thought would be a good touch."
JC wanders over and touches the fabric of the outer curtain. There's something about this, something in the back of his mind. "It looks good. Really good," he says aloud.
"For a guy who pees in the shower?" Chris replies.
"Shut up," Lance fires back. "You don't have to use it."
"Ooh! Widdle Wansten's getting feisty."
"Keep it up, Chris, and no barbecue for you."
"Did someone say barbecue?" Joey asks from the bed.
"After I show you the screening room." The boys follow Lance down the stairs to the small but very comfortably furnished screening room.
"Hey, cool," comments Joey.
"Did you win all these?" jokes Chris, pointing to the display of MTV Moonmen.
"No, he stole them from the Backstreet Boys," Justin quips.
JC is standing in front of the Lucille Ball memorabilia. Hmmm, he thinks.
Lance sees JC studying his prized possessions and stands next to him, admiring them proudly. "Lucy Arnaz gave those to me herself."
"That's so cool," JC says, very conscious of the pride Lance takes in these things. "They look great there. Like a place of honor."
"Yeah, they're my favorite things," Lance says, almost dreamily as he straightens one of the frames.
"I knew you liked I Love Lucy, but I didn't realize you, like, admired her personally."
"She was like the funniest lady ever."
"Yeah, she was cool."
*****
A few weeks later, the boys are hanging out before a photo shoot watching VH1, when Before They Were Stars comes on. Everyone cracks up during Joey's segment, but when Lance's segment comes on, Joey doubles over, "Nice outfit, Lance!"
"Really, dude," Chris adds. "You like to play patty cake?"
"I was 12," Lance says, laughing. "Didn't you?"
"I gave it up after kindergarten."
Lance waves his hand dismissively. "Whatever."
JC watches Lance closely, his expression intent. Something about the way Lance waves his hand. JC doesn't believe in stereotypes, but still. Of course, it could just be the way he was trained to move in those show choirs, with the big jazz hands.
A few days later they're holding their first wardrobe meeting for the upcoming PopOdyssey tour. As usual, they sift through the warehouse of clothes and meet with the stylists to discuss options. For IGBM, the big toy store number, Lance selects an especially flowery pair of embroidered jeans and matching vest. "These are cute," he comments.
"Those are cute," JC intones, standing nearby with his own flowery jeans in hand. "You don't think the vest is too matchy?"
"That's what I like about it. It all goes together so nicely."
Oh. "Oh. What shirt?"
"I don't know . . . maybe this one?" He holds up a bright orange T- shirt.
"Yeah, that's cool. You always, um, you look good in orange."
"Really? Thanks, JC. That's sweet of you to say."
"Yeah, I'm a sweet guy."
"You are."
The summer months fly by, and soon it's time for Lance's new movie premiere. With the tragic events of September 11 so near, Lance decides to scale it down but still invites his friends and family. Sadly, only JC can make it, but Lance is very glad to have him there. At the hotel, he gathers together Laura, his date, and Joey and JC. "Wow, you look really nice," he says to JC.
"Thanks. You do too. Really nice." JC is a little confused. Laura's in the picture. But he's still getting this vibe.
Lance walks the red carpet with Laura, but inside the theater he switches seats with her so he can sit next to JC.
"You nervous?" asks JC.
"A little. I think it came out pretty good, and I just hope the fans like it."
"They will."
Later, at the party, Lance takes many pictures with JC and Joey, but soon ducks out.
It seems like their schedules are as busy as when they're on tour. There's the DC concert, then Lance is everywhere promoting the movie. Then Miami, and Atlantis, then they all go home for Thanksgiving. It's not until after the Billboard Awards when JC resolves to have a talk with Lance. He drives to Lance's house one night, noting the bright Christmas tree in one window. Lance's house feels like a home in ways that none of JC's houses ever has.
Lance is busy writing out cards when he hears the car pull up. Curious, he peeks out the window, but it's too dark to see who it is, so he goes to the door.
JC rings the doorbell and waits, wondering why, exactly, he thought this was a good idea.
Just as JC rings the bell, Lance flings open the door. "JC. What are you doing here? Come on in, I was just making some cocoa and writing out my cards."
"I, um, I just wanted to ask you something."
"Sure. Let me just get you some cocoa, and hey, my mom sent some cookies." Lance busies himself in the kitchen and brings out two steaming mugs of real hot chocolate and some gingerbread cookies. "Sorry about the mess," he apologies, clearing the couch of his cards and envelopes.
"No, no. I should have called first."
"You know you can come over any time you want."
"You might not say that when you know what I came to ask."
"What, you want to borrow my car?"
JC laughs, but it isn't convincing. "No. Look, promise me you won't get mad."
"Okay, I guess. I mean, I can't get mad unless I know what you're going to ask."
"It's just, we don't usually talk about stuff like this, you know? Personal stuff?"
"No, we don't. You want to ask me something personal?"
"Yeah. And I may be, like, way off base."
"About what?"
JC looks at the carpet, at the Christmas tree. At anything except Lance. "Well, it's, and I could be wrong, but, um." He takes a deep breath and says in a soft but very clear voice. "Lance, are you gay?"
Lance holds his hot mug mid-sip. He's glad he didn't take a drink because he probably would have spit it out all over the couch. He's stunned, but he knew that someday the question would come. He just didn't expect it to be now. Should he lie? He's never lied to his friends before, especially not about anything important. But if he tells JC the truth, JC might be completely disgusted. So he puts down his mug and looks at the tree, at the bright festive lights and shiny tinsel and a lifetime of ornaments. It's just a tree, but you put all this stuff on it and it becomes something else.
"Um, yeah, I am."
"Oh. I, um. How long have you known?"
"A long time. I guess since high school."
"Oh." JC pauses, then offers, like a gift, his secret in return. "I figured it out late, I guess. Just a couple of years ago."
"You did? You knew?"
"I meant about myself."
"Are you serious? You're GAY? What about Bobbie?"
"She told me."
"She told you were gay? And you didn't know?"
"Nope. And she didn't so much tell me as scream at me 'what are you, a fucking faggot?' I guess she was right. But there's a reason we're not still friends."
"I can't believe Bobbie said that to you. That must have been really horrible. I wish I'd known."
"Me too. I would have liked someone to talk to."
"So would I. But you can talk to me now."
"You, too. I mean, you probably don't need to. But if you do . . . "
"It's okay. I'm cool with it. It took a while to deal with it, but it's been okay. I don't really like having to pretend, but I've found ways to still have a private life."
"That's good. How has your family been?"
"They're great. My grandparents don't know, of course. But my mom and dad and Stacy have been really supportive. Have you told your parents?"
"They were kind of freaked at first. But they've really come around."
"That's good. I like your parents. They seem really open-minded."
"Yeah. They're great. They're really great."
"So why did you decide to ask me now?"
"I've been wondering for a while. But it never seemed like the right time to ask."
"So why now?"
"It felt right. We're at home, we can be ourselves."
Lance considers that sipping quietly on his cocoa. "But something must have made you want to come over here and ask me."
"I . . . "
"What? Tell me."
In the same quiet voice he'd used earlier to pose his question, JC says, "I think I have a crush on you."
"Oh. Wow. That's um, you know, that's . . . I'm really flattered."
JC notes the lack of enthusiasm in Lance's response. "So, um, you're not mad, that I, you know, asked?"
"No, I'm not mad. Surprised, but not mad."
"So we're cool?"
"Yeah, we're cool. Hey, you wanna watch a movie?"
"I should, um, let you get back to your Christmas cards."
"My hand's tired. I was going to watch The Grinch and Rudolph and Santa Claus Is Coming to Town."
"And Charlie Brown?"
"Christmas wouldn't be complete without it."
"If you're sure I'm not, you know, in the way."
"These shows are much more fun to watch with someone, and Beth has a date, so I'd like the company." He takes the tin of cookies and leads JC to the TV room, and soon they're seated on the large comfortable sofa.
Forgetting about everything, JC curls his legs up and watches, rapt, until he and Lance both reach for a cookie at the same time and their hands meet. He pulls back as if he were burned.
"You can have it," says Lance. He holds up the tin. "Really, go ahead."
"I'll split it with you."
"Okay." Lance breaks the cookie in half and holds it out to JC.
"Thanks. Your mom makes great cookies."
Before JC can take it though, Lance pulls it out of reach. "She does. So you'd like this, huh?"
"Yeah. You don't wanna share anymore?"
"I'll share. But you gotta give me something in return."
"What?"
"A kiss."
"Lance. Don't tease me."
"Who's teasing? You want the cookie, I want a kiss."
"Why?"
"Do I need a reason?"
Yeah, JC thinks. But his body doesn't follow his mind, and he leans in and softly kisses Lance.
Lance's mouth closes over JC's soft, sweet, ginger-coated lips, and it's better than even his own mother's cookies. "Here," he says when it's over, and he hands JC the other half of the cookie.
JC stares at the cookie as if he'd never seen one before. "I, um . . . um, thanks."
"You're welcome." Lance puts his feet on the coffee table and throws an arm over the back of the sofa, turning his attention back to the video with a smile playing on his lips. JC sits for a few minutes, his lips still tingling. Finally he says. "Lance? What, I mean, what was that?"
"I think it was a kiss."
"You're playing with me."
"No, I'm not."
"What do you call it?"
"Um, I thought it was a pretty good kiss."
"It was. But . . . why?"
"Because that's usually what two people do when they, you know, like each other."
"But you, you don't."
"When did I say I didn't like you?"
"You . . . you said you were flattered. Kiss of death. Like 'you're really nice.' "
Lance starts to squirm. This is not the conversation he ever expected to have with JC. After all, they only just kissed. They never even dated, and already they were having this conversation. "I'm sorry, I guess I shouldn't have done that. I like you, and I just wanted to show you."
"And telling me would have been too easy?"
Lance smiles, shyness overtaking him. "I guess."
"So you thought you'd just, like, ply me with cookies and have your way with me?"
"It worked, didn't it?"
"You're so smart."
"Thank my mom for the cookies."
"What would you have done if you didn't have cookies?"
"Uh . . . I would have waited till you cried during Charlie Brown's Christmas and then I would have put my arm around you and kissed you."
"Oh. So what's the next video we're watching?"
"Oh look, Charlie Brown Christmas."
"Imagine that!"
"Strange, isn't it. I mean, out of all the videos we could watch THIS is the next one."
"It's like, fate."
"Of course, we could skip the video and go straight to the part where we make out."
A smile lifts the corners of JC's mouth. "We could do that." Lance drops the video onto the coffee table and leans in for the kiss in question.
JC meets Lance halfway, and this time the kiss is less sugary, but just as sweet. This time Lance takes his time, letting his lips close over JC's soft, moist mouth slowly.
JC's hands creep up until they surround Lance's face, then one slides into the thickness of Lance's hair. Lance presses forward, his tongue snaking out to trace the full, plump surface of JC's sensual lips.
JC's lips part slightly and he revels in the moist heat of Lance's mouth. He can feel himself smiling again and he knows Lance can, too. Lance brings a hand up to JC's face, partly to steady himself, partly to feel the heat of JC's face.
"You taste like Christmas," JC murmurs, before he closes his lips over Lance's tongue, teasing its tip with his own.
"Mmmf," Lance murmurs, drawing JC's tongue into his own mouth. When he finally pulls away for air, he breathes, "You ARE Christmas." Lance kisses JC again, deeply, then reluctantly pulls away. He knows now is not the time to go further. Now is the time for them to get to know each other. Really know each other. "Tell me--what was it that finally did it for you--that convinced you I was gay?"
"It all started with those shower curtains."