Forever Young: Dirty Blond
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Number 18 in the series.
JC was excited. Even for JC. It was finally happening. The single was already huge back home, and they would be going back home soon, too. Of course, that meant Lou was coming to check on his investment, to inspect the troops. Something about the man always gave him the creeps, especially the way he treated Lance. Like he was doing Lance a big favor even to tolerate his presence in the group.
*****
"What about this one?" Justin inquires, lifting the shirt to his shoulders so Lance can see how it would look on.
"Nah. Too . . . I dunno . . . boring. JC likes more colorful stuff. Like this." Lance holds up another shirt, this one with different colored diamonds.
"Well, hurry up and pay for it, dude. We gotta get back."
Lance ignores Justin, and picks up a leather bracelet for himself on the way to the counter. He's in a good mood; the recording sessions have been going well these past few days and he felt like buying JC a present. He refuses to let Lou's impending visit get to him.
*****
"Where ARE they?" Lou demands. "Justin shouldn't be out by himself."
"He's not alone," Joey says placatingly. "Lance is with him. They'll be fine."
"Oh, fine. No problem. Because if someone decides to kidnap Justin or something, LANCE will save him," Lou exclaims, exasperated. "It's probably Lance's fault they're late."
"They're not even late yet," Chris notes. "You're early."
Just then, Justin and Lance bound in the door, Lance smiling, anticipating the look on JC's face when he shows him the presents he bought. But his smile fades quickly when he sees the expression on Lou's face. "Oh, um, sorry, I thought we were meeting at two."
"We were," Chris states flatly.
"Let's get down to business; we have a lot to cover." Lou shoots Lance a look of warning and clears his throat. "Next time you boys go out, you take someone with you, okay?"
"We were just out shopping Lou," Justin protests. "We don't need a baby-sitter."
"Apparently, you do," Lou fires back.
Lance sighs. "Sure, Lou. Whatever you want." Lance can already tell it's gonna be a long meeting, so he sinks onto the couch and waits for the worst.
JC fidgets as Lou goes over his many comments. He's pleased with the single's sales and with the new recordings for the U.S. version of the album. He's been hearing good things about the stage show and the boys' behavior on the road. They've gotten very good at interviews, he concedes, and he even thinks their look is coming into focus. "Except . . . " he begins, and settles his eyes on Lance. JC's been expecting it, but he still jumps. And although he's not even sitting next to Lance, it's as if he can feel him stiffen under Lou's scrutiny.
"I don't know what we're gonna do about you, boy. Your look is still too soft. Girls wants to fantasize about you boys, not worry whether you're prettier than they are."
Lance's leg bounces uncontrollably as he feels his face redden. He avoids JC's penetrating gaze as he struggles to find something coherent to say. "I'll work on it, Lou," is all he can manage.
But it's Chris who tries to save the situation with his off-beat sense of humor. He leaps over to the couch and flops down next to Lance, squeezing his face with one hand. "What's not to fantasize, Lou? Look at this face. Hell, I fantasize about him." Lance can't help but smile, and even Justin laughs, hoping to lighten up the situation. Inside, though, Lance is seething. Is that all this man cares about--how they look? Doesn't he hear how great they sound together?
Lou smirks and shakes his head. "Just figure something out by tomorrow. We have another big photo shoot."
The guys gather around Lance as Lou walks out of the room.
"Don't listen to him. You're FINE," Joey insists.
"Better than fine," JC says with a soft smile that covers his anger. Lance's eyes wander from face to face. He smiles half-heartedly. "It's okay, guys. It's part of the business."
"It's a stupid part," Justin retorts, angrily.
"It's okay, Justin. Just drop it."
"I don't want to drop it. I'm sick of Lou saying stuff like that."
Finally, Lance has had enough. With every effort to keep his anger in check, Lance declares, "It's my problem, okay? I'll deal with it." And with that, he storms out of the room, out of the hotel, and off to take care of what needs to be taken care of.
"Shit, Justin. You shouldn't have pushed him." JC paces around the room angrily. "He shouldn't be out there by himself."
"I'm sorry, C. Lou just gets me so mad!"
"He's a jerk," Joey agrees. "But right now, he's the jerk who pays our bills."
*****
Lance had managed to slip back to his room unnoticed, and now as he towel dries his hair, he smiles wickedly. Try letting Lou say he's too pretty now.
*****
JC is still pacing, but now it's worry rather than anger that propels him. Lance has been gone for a while. And what if Lou's right? What if they're big enough over here that someone might want to hurt one of them or something?
*****
Justin unlocks the door and bounds into the room to grab his jacket for the next set of interviews. When he sees Lance, his jaw drops. "Dude--holy crap." And bursts out laughing.
Lance grins. "You think Lou will approve?"
"Dude, we'll be lucky if he doesn't shave your head." And he gives his friend a high five. "Let's go."
*****
"Stop worrying, C," Joey insists. "He wouldn't miss an interview."
"Yeah, but, he didn't come back and he didn't call and . . . " JC is so relieved when he sees Lance following Justin into the room, that he doesn't immediately notice that his hair is practically white. When he does, his jaw drops.
Hands in pockets, Lance looks directly at JC. "You guys ready?"
"Uh, yeah," JC manages. "Let's do it." He feels like there's a challenge in Lance's expression, and he's not sure why or what.
During the ride over, Chris makes albino jokes and Lance takes it all in stride. By the time they get to the TV studio Lance is feeling pretty good about what he'd done. Sure, he never would have bleached his hair if Lou hadn't stuck it to him, and since he knows it'll grow back he doesn't much care, but he figures he might as well have some fun with it while he has it. He's just glad his mother isn't on this leg of the tour.
JC's having a hard time taking his eyes off Lance. It's like he's the same and different at the same at the same time. And he hasn't once met JC's eyes since that first glance.
Lance is restless during the series of interviews, and by the time the photo shoots begin he's anxious to for the day to be over. But it's not until Lou arrives to sit in on the shoot that Lance really feels an adrenalin rush.
Lou immediately strides up to Lance. "What did you DO, boy?"
"You said you wanted a change, Lou."
Lou stifles a smile. Maybe the kid had some bal--er--gumption after all. "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but--ah, get in there and do your job."
"Yes, sir." I always do, Lance thinks, but leaves that thought to himself. He keeps that level of intensity throughout the photo shoot; there's none of the usual boyish innocence that he usually projects. Lance watches JC when it's his turn for individual shots, knowing how freaked out his friend is by his new look but needing to be alone with him nonetheless.
Lou sits through about half of the shoot, and when he leaves, he's actually quite pleased with himself for having shaken things up. Still, he manages to throw out a compliment to everyone except Lance on his way out the door.
Lance tosses his empty water bottle angrily at the wastebasket as he leaves; it's not like he needs the constant positive reinforcement from his manager, but it's the deliberate slight that gets to him. He's never done anything wrong, he's always done what Lou tells him to do, and still he somehow ends up being the butt of Lou's negativity.
The guys all look over at Lance sympathetically, but after his outburst earlier, they don't try to comfort him.
"C'mon, let's get this done," Chris finally says when it becomes patently obvious that no one really knows what to say.
The fire Lance feels in his heart comes through in the rest of the pictures. He'll later look at those pictures and laugh at how intense his facial expression was. But right now, he just wants to get this over with so he can unwind. When the last picture is snapped, he quickly gathers his things, hoping the others will get the hint that he wants to leave now.
"We've got some down time," Joey says. "Anybody wanna go eat?"
"Yeah! I'm STARVING!" Justin exclaims.
JC looks anxiously at Lance. "Um, yeah, I guess."
"Yeah, whatever," Lance mumbles, pushing the door open and heading to the parking lot before JC can stop him.
JC starts to follow, but Chris puts a hand on his arm. "It's not you, JC, you know that."
"Yeah, I know. I just wanna help, you know?"
"Yeah, I do, but he doesn't want to be helped right now. Let him be angry for a while. It'll help him be stronger."
JC sighs and they all trail Lance out of the building.
Figuring food will help alleviate his agitation, Lance eagerly ingests his burger and fries, trying his best to make small talk with the rest of the guys, glancing from time to time at JC. He can sense his boyfriend's concern, but right now that's not what he needs. He knows JC feels sorry for him, but he wants JC to be proud of him, not pity him. He also feels as though he's going to lose JC unless he can prove to him that he can take this kind of mental abuse.
"Hey, anyone up for a little basketball?" Justin asks after they pay the check.
"I'm in," Lance answers.
JC groans silently. Lance hates playing basketball. It's as if he's trying to avoid JC. And all JC wants to do is remind him that none of this crap is important. JC loves Lance and that's all that matters.
*****
Lance grabs the ball and shoots. He's not scoring any more points than he normally does, but he's playing much more aggressively. Prettier than the fans? Girly? Take that, Lou. Even Justin notices the change, and although he'll always be a better player, tonight Lance actually poses a challenge. Finally, an hour later, sweat- drenched and tired, Joey huffs, "That's it, I'm done. I'm going back to shower." Justin agrees, as does Chris.
Lance still dribbling, turns to JC. "How 'bout it? A little one on one?"
"Lance, aren't you tired?"
Lance goes for a lay-up and hits it. "Nope. Why, are you?"
"Yeah, a little. But if you wanna play . . . " JC positions himself between Lance and the net, prepared to try to block Lance's next shot.
Lance fakes left, then right, then nudges JC aside and jumps for the shot. He misses and dives for the ball on the rebound.
JC reaches the rebound first and takes it up in an easy lay-up. Lance wipes his brow and grabs the ball, spinning around for another shot and missing once again. "Shit," he exclaims.
JC chases down the rebound and makes another move toward the basket.
Lance steps in to block the shot, but being slightly smaller than JC ends up getting checked and falls back on his butt with a soft "oof." He swears quietly on the floor.
JC extends a hand to Lance. "Hey, don't push so hard. It's just a game."
Lance lets himself be pulled to his feet. "I know. I'm not pushing. I'm just playing." He grabs the ball and goes for another lay-up, this time sinking the shot.
"Good one," JC says, trying to dribble around Lance yet again. Lance tries to steal the ball, but to no avail. JC has the shot before Lance can even get his bearings. He bends over, catching his breath and shaking his head. Way to go, Bass. You're really impressing him.
JC waits till Lance straightens, then bounce-passes the ball back to him.
Lance dribbles back, drawing JC farther down the court, then fakes right and darts left, but before he can get the shot he trips, landing on his stomach and sending the ball rolling across the court.
JC is next to Lance in an instant. "Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Talk to me."
Lance lays there for a few seconds before saying anything. "I'm fine. Just fine." He manages to make it to all fours and then kneels, hands on his knees.
JC drops a hand on Lance's shoulder. "Time to go in?"
Letting out a deep breath, Lance nods. But he shrugs off the hand and gets to his feet on his own, still agitated.
"You wanna tell me what's going on with you?"
"Nothing's going on. Why can't I just shoot hoops without everyone getting on my case?"
"I'm not getting on your case. If you don't want to talk, don't." JC scoops up the ball and starts heading to the hotel. "You coming?"
"Yeah." Lance runs to catch up, scratching his head, trying to figure out what to make of all this, why he's so irritated.
JC smiles and tries to act like everything's normal. "I need a shower SO bad right now."
"Yeah? Yeah, me too." Lance's eyes narrow as he looks at JC sideways.
"I'm glad we don't have a show tonight. I could use a night off," JC continues, conversationally.
"Well, what do you want to do?"
"I dunno, watch a movie?"
Lance shrugs. "Okay with me." They walk in silence the rest of the way, but by the time they reach the hotel Lance is feeling restless again. As they enter the room, Lance is already tossing his jacket aside. "You want to go first?"
"Uh, yeah, thanks." JC goes into the bathroom and starts running the water.
"Sorry about the mess," Lance calls out, remembering the bleach paraphernalia.
JC pokes his head out of the bathroom. "You put this stuff on your HEAD? It stinks, dude."
"Yeah, uh, sorry. It's just bleach." Lance pushes open the door and gathers the empty tubes and boxes.
"It's okay. But you're braver than I am."
"It'll grow back." Lance tosses the garbage in the small wastebasket, closes the lid of the toilet and sits.
"Yeah, I know," JC says with a grin as he takes his shirt off. "But I still wouldn't have been brave enough to put that stuff on my head."
"Why not? Everyone does it."
"Cause it looks toxic."
"It's not gonna give me brain cancer if that's what you're worried about."
"Good. Cause I like your brain the way it is." JC strips off his pants and checks the temperature of the water.
Lance watches JC's naked form as he leans into the shower. He stretches his legs out, trapping JC between them.
JC looks over his shoulder. "What?"
"Nothing." But he doesn't move.
"Did you want to, um, join me?"
"Maybe. Maybe I just want to watch you."
"Well, if you don't let me move, there's not gonna be anything to watch." Lance pulls his legs back and folds his arms across his chest. He's already aroused by the sight of JC's sweaty body and the steam filling the small room.
JC gives Lance a curious glance, then steps into the shower.
At first, Lance averts his eyes, not sure what exactly he's doing. But then, curiosity gets the best of him, and his eyes wander back to the shower, to JC's long, lean frame surrounded by steam and the forceful spray of the showerhead.
JC gives up on trying to figure out what Lance is up to and relaxes under the spray, letting the hot water soothe his tired muscles.
Lance kicks his shoes off and stretches his legs once again, watching as JC's muscles flex and relax with every move. He begins to feel a rush of adrenalin again, and soon his leg starts bouncing. The steam fills the small space, and his shirt becomes matted to his skin.
JC begins running the soap over his body, the water and the fresh scent of the soap filling his senses while the consciousness of Lance being RIGHT there fills his mind.
Lance chews on his nails before finally stripping off his shirt. He debates going back to the bedroom, away from JC and the temptation filling his mind. He knows he should take some time to cool off, but the desire building inside won't be stayed. As JC covers his skin with the sweet-scented lather, Lance stands and strips off his pants and shorts, then climbs in the shower behind JC, wrapping his arms around the older boy and taking the soap from his hands.
"Hey you," JC murmurs as he feels Lance's arms around him. "I was hoping you'd join me." Silently, Lance rubs the soap over JC's chest while pressing his lips to JC's strong shoulder. He opens his mouth and sucks hungrily at the crook of his neck, pressing his body tightly against JC as the twitching in his groin becomes more urgent.
"Baby?" JC asks, a little confused by Lance's sudden aggressiveness. Not so sudden, he reflects, remembering the basketball court.
Kissing his way up to JC's ear, Lance growls, "What's the matter? Don't you want me?"
"Of course I do," JC replies. "I always want you."
Lance nips JC's ear. "Even though I'm girly? Even though I'm SOFT? You still want me?"
"Lance, I don't think that. I've never thought that." JC struggles to turn and look at Lance, but Lance doesn't let him.
Holding JC firmly, Lance wraps his hand around JC's stiffening member and moves him toward the wall. "Lou thinks that. If Lou thinks that, other people must think that."
"I don't know if anyone else does. I don't."
Lance takes JC's hands and places them on the wall. He kisses the back of JC's neck and whispers, "You're the only one." He returns one hand to JC's erection while the other caresses the firm globes of JC's ass. Slowly, he begins to stroke the heated member, while the fingers of his other hand trace the crevice between the tight muscles.
JC wants to argue the point some more, but Lance's hands are making it hard to think. He lets the pleasure pour over him as the water pours over them both.
Letting the soap drop to the tub, Lance slips his slickened fingers into the crack and over JC's tight opening. He teases it for a minute, then inserts first one finger, then another, then a third, pushing in eagerly as he kisses the smooth muscles of JC's back.
JC tightens a bit. Lance is not being careful like they usually are and there's pain mixed in with the pleasure this time. "Lance?" he whispers pleadingly.
Lance kisses his way back up to JC's ear breathing heavily and thrusting again and again, brushing against the prostate. He thrusts once more before withdrawing his fingers. "Shhhhhh. C'mon, Josh, I want you. I want you so bad," he breathes, before pushing his length inside and thrusting hard and deep.
JC cries out at being invaded so roughly, so suddenly. He lets his head fall against the wall, the cool tile soothing against his hot cheek. "Lance, please," he tries again. At the sound of JC's pleading voice, Lance freezes. This isn't what he wants, what he needs. How could he do this to the man he loves? He pulls out suddenly, wrapping his arms around the older boy and holding him tight. "Oh my gosh, JC, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to . . . I'm so sorry."
The tenderness after the roughness is too much for JC and he starts to cry, hiding his face against the wall.
"Don't cry, Josh, please don't cry. I'm so sorry. I'll never do that again. I don't know why I did it. Please, please don't hate me." He rocks JC back and forth, then turns him slowly in his arms and hugs him tight.
JC is passive at first, letting himself be moved, hugged, but finally, his arms come slowly up to encircle Lance.
At first, Lance flinches--he'd been tense all day and felt that any show of emotion would be a sign of weakness, but now, with JC's arms around him, it all comes pouring out and he sobs quietly against JC's shoulder.
They cling to each other, still crying, for a while, until JC finally says, "Can we get out of this shower, please?" They step out and JC hands Lance a towel and takes one for himself. As soon as he's dry, JC walks out into the bedroom, locating some boxers and stepping into them. He sits on the bed and stares off into space absently while toweling his hair.
Lance wraps the towel around his waist, catching his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He doesn't like what he sees, and he walks with his head down to join JC on the bed. He studies his hands, and without looking up at JC says quietly, "I really am sorry. If you want me to leave, I will."
"If you leave, how will we ever fix this?" JC asks quietly. "Why don't you tell me what's going on with you? What THAT was about?"
Blushing, Lance brings his fingers to his mouth. Realizing that biting his nails is not going to solve this, he sighs. "I don't know. I was just so mad today. No one gets to me like he does. No one makes me feel like that. In high school, everyone liked me and no one ever made me feel inferior. And all it takes is one stupid comment from Lou and I feel like I'm two feet tall. And I-I took it out on you. I'm sorry, Josh. That was sick and stupid and it'll never happen again." Lance rises and moves to his bag, rummaging around for some clean clothes, still unable to face JC. Tears sting his eyes and he fights them back.
"Did you honestly think THAT was gonna make you feel better? You'd suddenly feel powerful because you could fuck me?"
The words sting more than any blow to the face could. Lance flinches at the word; up until this point they've never described their lovemaking in such a way. But he also knows he deserves it and needs to take it like the man he's pretending to be. His voice cracks as he chokes back a sob. "I...no."
JC almost backs down in the face of Lance's obvious pain, but he knows that if this remains between them it will wreck them, so he presses on. "So, what Lance? Tell me what you were thinking. Talk to me."
Lance stares at his bag, still with his back to JC. "I don't know what I was thinking! It's just that . . . everyone expects so much. Everyone wants something. Everything's happening so fast. And it's good, but at the same time . . . I mean . . . I'm just a kid."
"So which were you trying to prove? That you're man enough to live up to it? Or too immature? Because Lance, if you think THAT makes you more of a man . . . "
"It doesn't. I know that. I'm sorry. I would never do anything to hurt someone I love. But I did, and I hate that I did." Lance crumples on the floor, drawing his knees to his chest and putting his head down.
JC watches Lance for a long moment, not sure what to do. He's still angry, still hurt, but so is Lance. Finally, needing to comfort and be comforted, he joins Lance on the floor. Sitting next to him but not touching, not yet. When he speaks his voice is soft and devoid of accusation. "Lance, if you let him change you, let him turn you into something hard and hurtful, he wins. He wins."
Lance turns blazing green eyes to his friend. "I don't want him to win." Then his face softens. "When I got the call, my mom said the only way she'd let me do this is if I didn't change. I don't want to change, JC. This group . . . and you . . . are the best things that ever happened to me. I swear I never meant to hurt you, and if I could take it back I would. I'm so sorry."
JC feels the tears starting again. "Good. 'Cause if you changed, you wouldn't be the man I fell in love with. And I'd miss you so much."
"I love you, Josh. I love you so much. I just want you to be proud of me."
"I am. You know I am."
"Do you . . . want me to leave? I mean, for tonight? I could bunk with Justin."
"No. If we start avoiding each other, it will tear us apart. We can fix this, Lance. But it will take both of us."
"How?"
"Like we always do when something goes wrong. By loving each other and being there for each other." Lance nods and sighs, still sad and upset and unsure of what to do.
"Tell me," JC says, tentatively taking Lance's hand.
There's a quiet intake of breath as he's touched; Lance has needed this contact so badly in the past ten minutes that it takes all his control not to throw his arms around JC. He bites his lip and stares at their intertwined hands. "Could we just . . . do something normal? Just be . . . us?"
"Yeah. That sounds good. Getting up off this floor sounds even better."
"Oh. Yeah. Um . . . I'm gonna take a shower." He opens his mouth to say more, but shakes his head instead. In minutes, he's under the hot spray, hoping to wash away the day's tension and to finally feel clean. By the time he steps out, he's feeling a little better, a little more relaxed, and more tired than he would have expected. After wrapping yet another towel around his waist, he steps quietly into the bedroom, expecting JC to already be asleep.
JC is lying propped up on the bed, flipping channels with the remote. He looks up when Lance comes in. "Hey. Did you want anything from room service?"
"No, I'm fine. Thanks." He throws on a clean T-shirt and a pair of boxers and sits on the edge of the bed, toweling his hair off.
JC gets up. As he pulls sweat pants over his boxers, he says "I'm gonna go get a soda--you want one?"
"Yeah--Dr. Pepper if they have it, Coke if they don't. Thanks." When JC leaves, Lance falls back against the bed. He picks up one of the stuffed animals JC carries around with him on this leg of the tour and clutches it to his chest. If only he could take back when he'd done.
When JC comes back, he smiles for the first time this evening at the sight of Lance desperately hugging the toy. Lance is right--in so many ways he is just a kid. JC hands Lance his Coke and flops down on the other side of the bed. He feels something sharp poking into his hip and fishes out the remote control, dropping it onto the bed between himself and Lance.
Startled when JC returned, Lance shifted himself so he's now lying on his stomach, facing the TV, his chin resting on the soft toy. He picks up the remote and starts flipping through the stations--some German TV show, some German movie, some German music station, and the only movie channel with subtitles was showing That Thing You Do. Lance smiles. "Hey, isn't this about some band?"
"I thought it was about Liv Tyler's lips."
"That too. She's hot."
"How can she look so much like her dad and be so beautiful at the same time?"
"You don't think Steven Tyler is hot?" Lance turns his head and winks, and tosses the stuffed animal at JC.
"Um, no?" JC replies, fending off the flying bear.
"Well, this is a cool movie anyway. I like the song."
"Yeah, me too." JC shifts into a more comfortable position on the bed and sips his Coke.
"It's a good song for you."
"To sing?"
"Yeah. It's perfect for your range."
"Maybe we'll cover it someday." JC drinks more of his Coke and puts the can on the nightstand.
"Something to think about." Lance shifts again, trying to get comfortable, and decides he needs a pillow so he sits up and leans back and lays next to JC.
JC tries to pay attention to the movie, but he keeps glancing over at Lance. All day he'd thought that the pale, pale hair had made Lance look older, harder. But now it leaves his face looking vulnerable, unprotected.
Lance can feel JC's eyes on him, and he touches his hair unconsciously. He knows JC hates it, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. He nervously takes a sip of his soda.
JC senses Lance's discomfort and reaches over to take the hand that's not occupied with the soda can.
Stunned and relieved at the same time, Lance gives the hand holding his a gentle squeeze and smiles. He remembers their first date, when they were both so unsure and nervous and everything was so new.
JC squeezes back, feeling warmth flowing back into him through that small connection.
Encouraged by this contact, Lance puts his soda down, takes JC hand and puts it around his shoulders. He leans over and rests his head on JC's shoulder. JC shifts instinctively so they're both more comfortable. He tightens his arm around Lance's shoulders and brushes his cheek against the soft, pale hair.
For the first time today, Lance feels safe. He feels good. He feels right.
"We're gonna be okay, Lance," JC says quietly. "I'm sure of it."
Lance closes his eyes and throws his arm across JC's chest. In that moment he knows more than anything else that JC is right.
"You ready to sleep?"
"Mmm hmmmm," Lance mumbles, already halfway there, lulled by JC's heartbeat.
JC turns off the tv with the remote and switches off the lamp. He shifts Lance off of him so he can sit up and pull the comforter over them. Then he lies back down and gathers Lance into his arms again.
Lance snuggles close, wanting to pull JC into his dreams. Somehow, after all that's happened, after JC saw a side of him that even he didn't see coming, Lance senses a return to the way things were. And that's okay. Because even though he'll always be slightly vulnerable and innocent, he knows now that with JC by his side, he has a strength that no one can conquer.