Discovery: The Art of Flirtation

by Karen and LB
© 2002

"Let me get this straight. You wanna go on a double date. You and Laura, me and Em. Is there a prom I didn't realize was coming up?"

Lance shoves his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight from foot to foot. "I, um, just thought it would be fun. We've never all just hung out together. It's always a big party thing."

JC relents a little. "What did you have in mind?"

"We could hit the beach, play a little volleyball, then go to that clam shack in Venice? C'mon, what did you have planned for tomorrow that could be better than hanging with the babes and downing some clams?"

JC pretends to consider. "Sleep, write, sleep . . ., " he says, with an attempt to look serious. "Okay, you're right. What time?"

"Noon? Laura and I'll pack some sandwiches and we can have a picnic lunch. Can you bring your box and some CDs? We can take Laura's car and pick you up, then swing by Em's on the way to the beach."

"Okay, but no Velveeta."

"Aw, now, you like my Ro-tel."

"Someday, I'm gonna strap you down and force-feed you real food."

"Ro-tel IS real food. It's better than those sprout-things you're always eating."

"So, I can tie you up as long as there's no sprouts involved?"

"You can try."

"I'll check on my inventory of silk ropes."

"Oh my gosh, you've done it before? Boy, you think you know your bandmates. Maybe I don't want you going out with Em after all."

"Yeah, right. I tie people up and ply them with brie all the time."

"I knew it! I bet you've got a dungeon in your basement and everything."

"Not so much a dungeon as a palace of pleasure. You should see what I do with truffles. The chocolates, not the mushrooms."

"Does Teen People know about this? Because this is the first I'm hearing and now you've got me curious."

"I'd be glad to give you a demonstration any time you want."

"Yeah, sure--I'll bet that's what Ted Bundy said."

JC looks at Lance incredulously. "You're comparing me to a mass- murderer?"

"You're the one with the dungeon--excuse me, pleasure palace. So, how many women have been to this pleasure palace?"

"Wait a minute. Let's get back to the Ted Bundy comparison. Don't you think that's a little HARSH?"

"Okay, so maybe you're not a serial killer, but just how do you lure unsuspecting babes into this dungeon of pleasure?"

"I murmur 'godivas, fannie maes, lindt truffles' into their little, shell-like ears," JC murmurs into Lance's little, shell-like ear.

JC's hot breath coats Lance's earlobe, sending chill bumps up his spine. "Is that what you used on Em? She says you're a good kisser, you know."

"I never kiss and tell."

"She said you're good. Not too sloppy. She said you're better than me."

"You want lessons?"

"You think I need lessons?"

"I think the important question is do you think you need lessons."

"I, um, maybe we should ask Laura that."

JC snickers. "You do that. So, what time tomorrow?"

"Noon." As they head to their cars, Lance ponders the question--is he a good kisser?

*****

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" Lance wasn't aware of the silence until Laura broke it. "Nothing. Why?"

"You haven't said a word since we left."

"Am I a good kisser?"

"What? Where is this coming from?"

"Just answer the question. Am I?"

"Of course you are, honey." Laura reaches over and strokes Lance hair from his forehead. "Why are you asking?"

"Are you sure? I'm not too, you know, sloppy?"

Laura laughs, a sound so familiar to Lance since they've been officially dating. "You're just right."

Just right. Not great. Not the best kisser she's ever had, just . . . just right. Fortunately, Lance doesn't have to think about this for much longer, since they've arrived at JC's house.

JC comes bounding out of the house in a tank top and shorts, carrying a bag. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, C. You got your box and CDs?"

"The CD's are in here. I just gotta grab the box outta my car."

"Does it have batteries or do we need to stop?"

"I've got a hamster on a wheel to power it."

"Shut up, or I won't share any of my sandwiches."

"Just be glad I didn't ask for Dirk."

"Well, I did bring Jackson, but I think there are some kind of dog labor laws."

"He could run it on cute power."

"He could, couldn't he. We better get going--Em's gonna be waiting."

JC climbs in the back. "Ready to roll."

They make it to the beach shortly after, Jackson leaping excitedly among the three passengers, everyone doing his or her best to keep him off Lance's lap while he drives. Lance had brought a large blanket and spread the cooler of food out, and everyone lay their towels around next to it.

Lance removes his shirt, Laura already reaching into her bag for the sunscreen. He sits on one of the towels, Laura kneeling behind him as she begins to rub the cream on his back.

JC slips an arm around Em and leans his head against hers. "Aren't they cute?"

Em turns her head so she can see JC's eyes. "YOU'RE cute."

"I'll even do your sunscreen."

"JC, can you put on some music?" interrupts Lance.

"Sure, that's much more important than avoiding skin cancer."

"Fine, I'll do it. Then you'll be stuck listening to MY music."

"Aw, now, don't be that way. I was only joshing you." JC giggles. "Get it? JOSHing?"

Lance blinks as JC breaks into a fit of girlish giggles. "JC, don't give up your day job."

"You'd miss me if I weren't around."

"Maybe a little."

"Are you two gonna kiss?" squeals Laura.

"Shut up."

"C'mon, you're all worried about the way you kiss. And you've already kissed me and Em. JC's the only one you haven't kissed."

JC blushes and turns to Em. "I'm going in the water. Wanna come?"

"No, I wanna see this kiss." Em collapses next to Laura, the two of them giggling uncontrollably as JC storms down to the water's edge.

"Nice going, Laura. Why don't YOU two kiss?"

"Well," Em says speculatively, leaning toward Laura.

"Emmanuelle! I am NOT that kind of girl!"

"This is getting gross. JC! Get your butt back here! We're gonna have lunch!"

JC, having let the cool water soothe him, rejoins his friends. "What'd you make?"

"Ham and cheese . . . turkey . . . and there's some potato salad in there," he says, indicating a plastic container. He also takes out cold bottled water and sodas. "How's the water?" he asks motioning with his head toward the waves.

"Cold. But not too cold." JC reaches for a soda, first handing one to Em.

They eat and talk. Lance breaks out a deck of cards and they pass the hours playing games and swimming and enjoying their time away from fans and the media. Lance notes to himself that he's seen a lot more of JC on their off time now that JC and Em are dating.

"Hey," JC finally says. "I brought some dessert." He digs in his bag and pulls out a box of truffles, which he offers to Lance.

Lance exchanges a knowing glance with JC. "I don't know if I should."

"You know you want to."

"I want to." Laura grabs a truffle from the box and pops it in her mouth. "Hey, these are really good. Come on, baby, try one." She selects a dark confection and holds it teasingly up to Lance's mouth. He parts his lips and Laura slips the chocolate inside, but as his lips close over her fingers Lance's eyes travel to JC's face.

Without taking his eyes from Lance, JC offers the box to Em, then chooses one for himself, which he eats slowly, savoringly.

"Mmm, these are amazing," Lance finally manages after he swallows. "Is this how you get girls to do what you want?" Laura's eyebrows practically disappear, she raises them so high.

"Oh, yeah," Em giggles. "That's how he got me."

JC smiles at her sweetly. "And I thought it was all Lance telling you what a great guy I am."

"That got me interested. These kept me."

"I guess I better start buying YOU truffles, darlin'," Lance says to Laura.

"Big spender," Laura mocks gently.

"Really," JC adds. "We're lucky to have girls who don't expect, like, cars and stuff."

"But I'd buy you one if you wanted one," Lance says to Laura to cover his ass.

"They're so cute," JC says again to Em, then stretches out next to her on his towel, sleepy from the heat and the day's play. He stretches like a cat, then settles down.

Lance and Laura lay down next to him, but soon Lance grows restless and sits up, watching as the beach begins to clear out in the late afternoon sun. Knowing how deeply JC sleeps, Lance starts to pour sand on his legs, and Em and Laura join in. Before long, JC's legs are completely covered.

JC stirs, sighs, and settles again as the girls giggle.

As with every project, Lance becomes fully engrossed in burying JC, until only his neck and head are visible. Silently, he motions for the girls to back up, then yells, "Oh my gosh, it's Janet Jackson!"

JC jumps up. Or tries. Struggling, he glares up at them. "You guys suck."

Lance is so doubled over with laughter he can barely speak. Laura has her hands on his shoulders and Em cowers behind him, squealing with laughter, too. "Oh my gosh, JC, you should see yourself."

"I hope you made me anatomically correct, at least."

"JC!" Em screeches, turning away.

"Oh my goodness," Lance groans. "I knew we forgot something."

"Some friend you are," JC grouses, finally shifting enough sand to sit up.

"I didn't think we had enough sand to cover it," adds Em, then quickly covers her mouth and spins away as Lance and Laura burst out laughing again.

"That's my girl," JC says complacently, kicking sand at Lance at the same time.

Lance backs away, barely missing the attack, but stumbles and lands on his butt, laughing and moaning at the same time. "Ow!"

"We gotta use that move in our next dance routine," JC laughs as Em and Laura help Lance up.

"It might be too complicated for you and Justin."

"Yeah. We don't have your natural grace."

"It takes a lot of talent to be this klutzy."

JC detects a note of seriousness in Lance's joking tone. "You're not a klutz," he says, squinting up at Lance.

"I'm a little klutz," Lance replies, indicating a space between his thumb and forefinger.

"Not even that much."

Lance smirks and waves a hand at JC. "We should go--we can get the sand off at those showers over there."

JC stands and brushes off the worst of the sand. "Lead on." They walk toward the showers, Em and Laura trailing, half-forgotten.

"Dude, I'm sorry about all the sand."

"I guess I was an easy target."

"I can't believe you can sleep through all that." They've reached the showers and Lance turns on the water and begins to rinse off.

"Can't help it--the sun, the sea . . . ." JC smiles slyly. "The company."

Lance cranes his neck toward Em and Laura, who are busy trying not to get their hair wet. "Yeah, they're great."

JC can't resist a well-timed splash, and then another. It turns into a water fight, under the disapproving eyes of several passing parents and their own dates.

"We really can't take them anywhere, can we?" Em asks Laura with an indulgent smile. "Boys." Now Lance is slapping JC with a towel, but Laura tugs his arm so they can gather their belongings and leave. Lance drives again, but keeps peering in the rearview mirror to see what JC is up to.

JC is whispering silly things to Em, enjoying her rich giggle. Eventually he senses Lance's attention and speaks louder, showing off for Lance's benefit.

Lance tires of listening to JC fawn over Em, so he flips on the CD player and pops in some upbeat dance tunes. He doesn't know why it bothers him to see JC and Em being so cozy in the backseat, but it does.

JC starts singing along with the CD, kicking the back of Lance's seat in time with the music.

Lance peers in the rearview mirror, shaking his head and fighting to hide his smile. "Keep it up, JC, and I'm turning this car around."

"I'll stop if you sing."

Lance starts singing at the top of his lungs, his country twang evident even with the hip-hop beat of the song. "That's better," JC says complacently. "This was, this was a great idea. Thanks for inviting me. Us."

"We've got a lot of stuff coming up. I thought it would be good for us to just have a day to be with our girls." Lance pats Laura's hand affectionately.

"Yeah. There won't be much time for this, will there?"

"No. That's why we have to make the most of it while we can, right darlin'?"

"Right," Laura replies, unconvincingly.

Dinner is a raucous affair, the boys competing to impress the girls. Lots of food, a couple of beers, and good company. They walk for a while through the streets of Venice, then they're back in the car.

Lance yawns as he drives, tired but satisfied. The dinner was fun, and he almost doesn't want the night to end, but all he can think about right now is his bed. He pulls up in front of Em's place and parks, then gets out of the car to open the door for her. "JC, you staying?"

JC looks from Lance to Em. "Um, I have a tune in my head. I need to write."

"Now? You don't want to come in for even a little while? I can drive you home later," offers Em. Lance looks away, as though he's trying not to listen in.

"I should um . . . you know. Go."

"Oh. Okay. Call me tomorrow?"

"You know it." JC gives Em a quick kiss and settles back into his seat, his head moving to music only he can hear.

Lance pulls the car into JC's driveway next, this time remaining in his seat. "You really gonna write now?"

"Hmm?" JC says, focusing in on the words a little slowly. "Yeah, I gotta get this down. Thanks again, you guys." JC leans over the seatback to kiss Laura on the cheek, then jumps out of the car. " 'Night, dude."

" 'Night." Lance follows with his eyes as JC saunters up the walkway and disappears inside his house. Back at Laura's place, Lance deposits the empty cooler and their bags on the floor and heads straight to the bedroom, exhausted. He quickly changes out of his clothes as Laura busies herself putting things away. By the time she's ready for bed, Lance is already half asleep between the sheets. Slowly, Laura slides in beside him and wraps her arms around his waist, kissing the back of his neck as she presses her body against him. "Mmmmmph," Lance mumbles. Laura persists, and Lance shifts. "Can we just sleep tonight, darlin'? I'm so tired."

Laura sighs heavily. "Yeah, okay, sweetie. We can sleep." But Lance is already there.

*****

The next day, while Laura is in the shower, Lance dials JC's number. JC fumbles sleepily for the phone. "H'lo?" he mumbles.

"Hey, C. It's Lance. Did I wake you?"

"A little. 'sokay."

"I'm sorry. I can call you later."

"No, no. What's up?"

"Well, you know I've been working with Ryan on his demo. I was wondering if you'd listen to what we've put together so far."

"Sure, yeah. I'd love to hear what you've got."

"Thanks. I can pick up breakfast on the way."

"Get me coffee and I'm yours for life."

"I'll make it a large."

"You rock."

Laura wasn't thrilled when Lance told her he had work to do today, but she's gotten used to playing second banana to his career. So after picking up donuts and coffee, Lance arrives at JC's house eager to hear his friend's opinion on his latest protege. JC opens the door, barefoot and still damp from his shower, hair in ringlets. Startled to catch JC in such a state, Lance stammers, "Oh, hey, um, I brought donuts."

"You're my hero," JC says, letting Lance in and leading him to the deck. "I love to have breakfast out here."

"I can see why. It's a great view."

JC takes a long drink of his coffee and sighs happily. "I so needed this."

"Did you write anything last night?"

"Yeah. It's still rough, but . . . I'll play it for you after you show me your stuff. If we have time."

"We should. This shouldn't take too long." Lance pulls the CD he brought out of his bag and lays it on the table. "There are three tracks. They're good, but something's missing."

JC picks up the CD and looks at it as if he could find answers on its blank surface. "C'mon. The best sound is in the studio."

Lance follows JC through the bowels of his house to the custom-built studio, complete with sound-proof recording booth, one of the many perks of fame and fortune. "It's a little rough, but the songs are really good and he has a good sound."

JC pops the CD in and the music starts rolling around the room. JC listens intently, giving his full attention as he always does to anything that interests him. Lance studies JC as they listen, watching for any hint of displeasure but seeing only that passionate intensity that oozes from every pore when JC does anything related to music. Before long, JC is humming along with the songs, after only hearing a verse or two of each, picking up on the melodies almost instantly, demonstrating once again his innate gifts. When the music stops, Lance waits.

"I think . . . it needs another layer. Another texture. Nothing that will overpower the melodies, which are terrific, or his voice. Maybe strings?"

"Yeah...yeah. I think we could try that, especially with the ballad. I knew you'd come up with something."

JC hits some buttons and the ballad starts up again, then paces till it comes to the place he's waiting for. "Something like this," he says, leaning over Lance's chair to hum almost in his ear, sketching the melodic line he hears in his head.

JC's voice sends a vibration through Lance that penetrates every nerve in his body, causing chill bumps to sprout on every inch of exposed skin. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, nodding his head in time with the music. "That's really good," he whispers.

"It's a good song," JC says, almost as softly. "You've really . . . he's come a long way."

"He's worked really hard."

"I think he had a good teacher, too."

"He has the talent. All I did was give him the opportunity."

"I think you gave a little more than that."

Lance waves his hand dismissively. "So, would you be interested in producing?"

JC's eyes widen. "Yeah, yeah. I'd love it. I've got ideas in my head already."

"I knew you would. I figured if I dropped this in your lap it would turn to gold."

"I'm like, honored, dude."

"You're, like, a professional. I only want the best."

"I'm still, like, glad you want me onboard."

Lance shrugs. "It'll be fun."

"Yeah, it will. It's a whole different style for me. It'll be a blast."

"I'll have Ryan fly out whenever you're free to do this. Maybe next week?"

"Yeah, as soon as he can."

"I could have him fly out tomorrow if you want. I could talk to Kevin to see if he knows anyone who plays the violin."

"Cool." JC practically dances back to his chair, again moving to music no one else can hear.

Lance pulls out his cell phone and dials, and within a half hour he has the names of three musicians. Kevin promised to give them a call first. Then Lance calls Ryan and settles on a flight in two days.

JC watches in admiring amazement as Lance gets everything set up in a matter of minutes. When it's all settled, JC asks, almost shyly, "Do you have time to hear what I wrote last night?"

"Of course," replies Lance enthusiastically.

"I um, don't have lyrics yet or anything. Just this . . . " JC hits more buttons and there's a hiss of tape, then piano music fills the air. At first it's a simple melody, played with one hand, but as the music goes on, it becomes more complicated, more varied. They listen in silence until all that's left is the hiss of the tape.

"Wow, that's amazing," Lance states, as though it's an indisputable fact.

"Thanks," JC says, softly. "You see why I HAD to come home last night and get this down?"

"We should use this on the next album."

"Maybe. If I can come up with lyrics."

"You will. You always do."

"I need inspiration."

"What usually inspires you?"

"People, mostly."

"It'll come to you when you least expect it."

"Yeah, especially now that I have a new project."

"Maybe the variety will stir something."

"It usually works that way."

"So, um, I . . . I'm gonna go. I have to stop by Happy Place for a while."

"Oh, um, oh. Okay," JC says, unexpectedly disappointed.

Lance senses he should ask JC to come along, but he's never done that before, except for the day he moved in, but that was a special occasion. "I'll, um, leave this with you," he says, indicating the CD case for Ryan's demo.

"Yeah. I'll listen to it some more."

"Thanks, JC. I owe you one."

"Nah. I'm excited about doing it."

So am I, thinks Lance, and this thought startles him. He holds out his hand and they man-hug, but the touch is surprisingly electric.

"So, I'll see you around," JC says as he walks Lance to the door.

"I'll, um, call you later."

JC watches Lance's car pull away, then goes back to the studio, burying himself in work. He listens again to Ryan's song, then pulls out some music paper and starts working on the violin part he hears in his head.

*****

Lance is busy at the barbecue when JC saunters through the beaded curtain. Everyone is milling or lounging on the couches, and Laura is playfully messing with Lance.

"Hey, someone's gonna get hurt with that thing," JC teases, indicating the spatula Lance and Laura are struggling over.

"No one would get hurt if some people realized who was the chef around here."

"Chefs don't use Velveeta," JC mutters under his breath.

"I'm sorry, what was that JC? Did you say you weren't hungry? That's too bad, 'cause we got all this food . . . "

"Did I say that?" JC appeals to Laura.

"You're on your own, JC," replies Laura, backing away with her hands up.

"Lance, you do the best barbecue on the planet. Better than Emeril," JC declares placatingly.

"That's better. Grab a plate." Lance lifts the lid of the grill. "Bam!" he shouts, pretending to throw on some special spice.

"Looks like someone's kicking it up a notch," Em says as she joins JC, slipping her arm around his waist.

"Hey you," JC says, stepping out of her embrace to hand her a plate.

"How was the writing last night?"

"Great. And now I've got a new project. Producing for Lance's act, Ryan."

"Oh, really? That's cool."

"You guys gonna have time for that?" Laura asks.

"He's my artist, darlin'. Of course I'll have time for him," states Lance.

"Just don't spread yourself too thin, baby."

"It's what I do." Lance senses an argument brewing, but this isn't the time or place. "Let's eat, okay?"

They relax over the meal, or try to. JC can see that there's still some tension between Lance and Laura. JC watches Laura curiously. She knew what Lance was about when she got involved with him, didn't she? JC feels lucky to have Em, who at least understands the demands of his life. If only there were more of a spark.

"Hey, C, I want to show you something," Lance says suddenly, when they're done eating. "Grab a drink."

JC picks up a bottle and grins at Lance. "Lead on."

At the table, Laura pouts. "What's with those two lately? Lance spends more time with JC than he does with me."

"That's their life, girl," Em says softly. "Touring on buses all those years . . . they're totally used to being on top of each other all the time. And the other guys aren't here right now, so it's natural he'd spend more time with JC."

"But he has ME now."

"Sure he does. But he's always gonna have them, too."

"I guess I just thought he wouldn't need them so much if he had me."

"At the end of the day, he goes home with you, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Laura says, tentatively.

"So you've got that. It's not always going to be this crazy, you know."

"When will it stop? If it's not the band, it's the movies. If it's not the movies it's Free Lance."

Em sighs. "They're hot now. This is their time. They have to make the most of it."

"I guess. I just wish he was around more."

*****

Lance leads JC down the stairs to the main floor. "We're thinking of producing this movie for this new director. And he's got this friend who's a kicking musician." Lance pops a CD in the stereo and soon the room is filled with the strains of a high-energy score.

As usual, JC can't stay still when there's music playing. He catches the beat immediately and his foot and fingers start tapping. "This is GOOD," he says enthusiastically.

"I thought you'd like it. He's got a bunch of great stuff." Lance starts doing his trademark dance.

"You're so cute," JC says, then blushes, mortified. He can only hope that Lance has had enough hard lemonades not to notice.

Lance grins shyly, turning his face to the floor. He has had a few drinks, but JC's remark affects him strangely, unlike the way he feels when Laura makes a similar comment. "Hey, maybe we can use this move in our next tour."

"I don't know if the rest of us could learn it. It's so you."

"Yeah, we'd scare off the fans."

"That Best Choreographer VMA would be yours."

Lance throws his head back and laughs, clapping his hands. "What are you on, JC?"

JC toasts with his bottle. "It could happen," he says, chuckling.

"I'll win an Oscar before I win best choreography."

"And I'll be cheering for you, whatever you win."

Lance makes a face, and when the music stops playing there's silence. "I guess we should go back upstairs."

"Yeah," JC says, but he makes no move to leave.

Lance looks around the room. "Hey, you wanna shoot some pool?"

"Cool," JC agrees, strolling over to the table and choosing a cue.

Lance has no idea why he doesn't want to rejoin his guests. For some reason, he just wants to spend more time alone with JC. "You can break." Lance racks the balls and steps aside.

"Could be dangerous. You might not get to play at all."

"Just keep talkin'."

JC leans elegantly over the table and shoots. "I don't need to talk."

The game progresses fairly evenly, until JC is down to the eight ball. Lance stands across the table and watches, leaning down to gauge the angle. "Tough shot."

"You think I can't do it?"

"I just said it's tough. Not impossible." Lance crouches down so his face is level with the ball. "Go for it."

JC aims, then realizes he's having trouble concentrating. "Could you get your face out of the way, please?"

"Oh, sorry." Lance straightens, then turns around, showing his butt. "I'll just face the wall."

JC puts down his cue, walks over, grabs Lance by the shoulders, and walks him over to a spot behind where JC needs to stand. "Stay."

"Okay. I'll just stand right here." As JC bends over to take his shot, Lance leans over with him and says deeply, "Right here."

JC stops. "You are such a cheater."

"I'm not cheating. I'm just standing here, minding my own business."

"Dude, if you were any closer, I'd be wearing you."

Lance looks down between their bodies. "Oh. Sorry. I'll let you take your shot now." He steps back, but only a little. "Go ahead. I'm ready."

"You gotta step back more. I can't even move my arm enough to shoot."

"Sorry." Lance takes another step back and starts to whistle.

"Do I have to tie you up and gag you?"

Lance smiles sheepishly. "Sorry. I'll shut up now." He turns his eyes to the ceiling and shifts his weight.

JC leans over again to take the shot and misses when Laura's angry voice breaks in. "Lance!"

Groaning, Lance spins around and plasters a smile to his face. "Laura." He feels guilty but has no idea why.

"You are supposed to be the host here, and you take off to play pool?"

"I'm sorry. Everyone's okay, right?"

JC fidgets with his pool cue. "It was my fault, Laura."

"I made him," interrupts Lance.

Laura rolls her eyes. "Whatever. Our--your guests are waiting."

Lance takes her hand. "Okay. I'm sorry." He glances back at JC apologetically and follows Laura back to the roof. After a while, people begin to leave until it's just Laura, JC, and Em.

"We should, um, go, too," JC says, looking at Em for confirmation.

"Okay. You can follow me in your car."

Lance rises, kisses Em and then turns to JC. "Thanks for coming. I'll call you tomorrow before the violin auditions."

"Great. I'm looking forward to it." JC kisses Laura on the cheek to a not very enthusiastic response, and he and Em head downstairs. JC settles Em safely in her car before following her in his own.

"Okay, what'd I do now?" Lance asks as he carries a trash bag around the roof collecting empty cups and paper plates.

"You know perfectly well."

"What?"

"I'm used to you disappearing for hours at a time when you have work, but this? We have guests and you and JC take off to play POOL?"

"We weren't gone that long. These are my friends--they don't care. Everyone had a good time."

"Well, it was rude to me. You're supposed to be my boyfriend."

"I am your boyfriend."

"Then act like it."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Spend time with me. I know you're busy, but when we DO have time and you disappear like that . . . how do you think that makes me feel?"

Lance stops what he's doing and looks down. "I'm sorry. I know it's not easy being with me. I really didn't think you'd mind."

"Well, I do mind. You're going on tour soon. You'll be seeing JC-- the guys 24/7."

"This is my life, Laura. You knew that."

"I don't see why you wanted a girlfriend at all."

"Maybe I don't." The words come out of Lance's mouth before he can stop them.

"Maybe you better find yourself somewhere else to sleep until you figure that out."

So Lance spends the night in the bedroom at Happy Place, alone, lost in thought, still dumbfounded about what transpired tonight. No matter how many times he replays his conversation with Laura it doesn't make sense. Why would he break up with someone as sweet and wonderful as Laura?

*****

On the drive back to Em's place, JC keeps thinking about Lance, wondering how it was going with Laura. She'd seemed really upset, and he feels guilty about his role in that. It was just so natural for him to spend time with Lance. He hadn't even noticed how much time had passed.

"So, you coming in?" asks Em, when they arrive at her house and JC still hasn't left his car.

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah." As soon as they get into the house, JC asks, "Do you think I spend too much time with Lance?"

"No. You're friends, right?"

"Yeah. It's just . . . Laura tonight . . . "

"What about her?"

"She was so angry."

"How come?"

"Because me and Lance were playing pool."

They've reached the door and Em enters first, followed by JC. She tosses her keys on a side table and leads JC over to the couch. "You didn't do anything wrong. Whatever's going on between Lance and Laura is something they're going to have to work out."

"Yeah, I know. I just don't want to be the cause of any problems, you know?"

"Look, if they're having problems it's not because you and Lance played pool. There's obviously something more going on that they're going to have to work out, right?" She moves closer, laying a small hand on his sculpted cheek.

"Right." As always when he's feeling troubled, JC takes comfort from being touched. "You're a good friend."

Em pulls JC gently toward her and kisses him, sliding her hand to the back of his neck.

JC doesn't really respond. He doesn't stiffen or pull away, nor does he really participate. Finally he pulls back and smiles sadly, regretfully. "It's not really THERE for us, is it?"

Em looks down, then back up at JC, her eyes full of hope. "It can be if you want it to be."

"Do you really think so? You feel this, too, don't you?"

Em sits back, releasing JC. "I guess so. What is it, JC? What's not working?"

"It's . . . chemistry. I mean I like you, a lot. I like spending time with you. I really like talking to you. I'm not big on letting new people in, but you've become one of my best friends. You're important to me. And you're beautiful. But that spark or fire or whatever you want to call it, it's just not there."

*****

Two days later, Lance is back at JC's house, this time with Mira, the violinist, and Ryan. Lance sits back and watches JC work the board, not interfering, offering Ryan some tips only when he feels his protege is stuck.

The session goes well. JC discovers that he likes Lance's quiet presence in the studio. And he's definitely pleased with the results he's getting. The missing dimension on the earlier demo is filled in perfectly by the violin. Hours pass and no one seems to notice, completely wrapped up in what they're doing.

When they finally wrap, satisfied with their results, Lance decides to treat everyone to dinner. "You want to call Em?" he asks JC.

"I, um, I don't know."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. I just thought you'd, you know, want to."

"We kind of broke up."

"When?"

"After your barbecue."

"Wow, are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yeah. We just both sort of realized that what we really were was friends, so that's what we're gonna be."

"It's not gonna be weird for you to have her around now and then?"

"No, we even agreed we'd still go to things with each other, you know, if we need a date."

"I'm really sorry it didn't work out. Em's a great girl."

"Yeah, she is. Were you, um, able to talk things out with Laura?"

"Um--" But before Lance can finish, Ryan approaches to let Lance know they're ready to go.

There's the bustle of leaving as they pile into Lance's car and drive to a quiet, casual restaurant. JC remembers the hesitant look on Lance's face when he'd asked about Laura and his guilt about causing a rift comes back. He resolves to ask Lance about it later.

For a while, Lance can forget about the arguments with Laura and the sadness in her eyes when he packed his stuff and took it over to Happy Place. For a while, he's just a guy having dinner with his friends and all is well. After dropping off Ryan at the hotel and taking Mira back to JC's so she can pick up her car, Lance watches as her taillights disappear. "I guess I should be going too. We have an early photo shoot tomorrow."

"Is everything . . . are YOU okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You just seem a little . . . down." And you asked me to invite Em but didn't bring Laura, JC adds silently.

"Do I? I'm sorry. I'm fine, really." But he bites his lip nonetheless.

"Uh huh. Come in for a while. It's not that late."

"You sure?"

"Come on." JC leads Lance in and through to the deck they'd breakfasted on a couple of days before. He indicates a lounge chair for Lance, and settles into one himself. They sit for a few minutes, listening to the night, then JC quietly asks Lance if he wants to talk. Unused to talking this way with his bandmates, Lance doesn't want to say anything at first. Usually, when the guys are together they joke and tease each other, and although they know a lot about each other's personal lives they don't have many heart to hearts. So it's not easy for Lance to open up like this. "Um, Laura and me, we, you know, had a fight."

"I know. And I feel bad that I was part of the reason."

"What makes you say that?"

"She was mad because we were playing pool."

"She was mad before we started playing pool. Our problems started before that. We haven't been spending a lot of time together and she's not happy about that."

"I'm really sorry, Lance."

"It's probably for the best. I wasn't there for her. I want to be, but there's just so much going on. It's not fair to her."

"No, but to be fair to you, she knew that going in."

"Maybe, but it's different when you start dating."

"Still. It's not like you lied to her."

"I just wish it had worked out. I love Laura."

"If you love her . . . you had a fight. Couples have fights all the time. You could make up."

"Maybe." Lance begins to chew his nails.

"I hope you can, Lance," JC says, sincerely. "Hey, where have you been staying?"

"Um, over at Happy Place."

"Dude, you could have called me. I have a guest room. You could have at least been comfortable."

"It's okay over there. Just kind of empty."

"Stay here tonight."

"You sure it would be okay?"

"Of course. You can stay here as long as you want."

"Only till I fly back to Orlando. But . . . thanks. I promise I won't get in your way."

"You know you're always welcome here." JC pauses. "You do know that, right?"

"Yes." But it's the first time Lance felt genuinely glad to hear the words.

"Good. Let's find you something to sleep in." JC gets up and leads Lance to his own bedroom, where he rummages around for sweatpants and a T-shirt. "These okay?"

"That's fine. I always liked that shirt."

"This? Keep it if you like it."

"Really? Thanks!" The truth was, he always like the way it looked on JC.

"So, I'll see you in the morning. And if you need anything, well, you know where everything is, right? Or wake me up."

"I'll be fine. Thanks . . . for everything." Lance heads to the guest room but finds himself looking over his shoulder to watch JC walk to his own room. As he changes into the shirt, he smiles, feeling somehow privileged to be here, like he and JC are sharing some sort of secret.

JC goes to his room to get ready for bed. As he climbs in and settles down for the night, he finds his has an odd sense of contentment, knowing Lance is safely under his roof.

The next morning Lance busies himself in JC's kitchen, making eggs and munching on an orange, trying to make as little noise as possible.

JC smells food and follows the scent to the kitchen, standing in the doorway confused, his hair a mess and his eyes barely open.

Startled, Lance spins around, mid-bite. "Oh, dude, I'm sorry I woke you."

" 'Sokay. Had to get up anyways."

"Want some eggs? Juice?"

"Coffee." JC stumbles to the machine and turns it on. "How did you sleep?"

"Great, thanks. I could hear the ocean."

"And you found everything you needed? I forgot to get you some towels."

"I found them in the hall closet. Your mom has good taste."

"Yeah, she does." JC looks up almost shyly. "I'm, um, glad you're here. I'm sorry about the reason, but, but I like having you here."

Lance feels the flush spread in his cheeks as he stammers back, "It's good to be here. But JC, we gotta do something about this refrigerator."

"My refrigerator? What's wrong with it?"

Lance opens the object in question and replies, "There's, like, nothing in it."

"I'm not here much."

"True. Usually when I'm home Beth does the shopping."

"If there's anything you want while we're here, I'll get it. I want to be, like, a decent host."

"You don't have to play host, JC. After all, I'm the one who's crashing your space."

"You're not crashing. I like having you here."

*****

Not long after breakfast, the boys are congregated in an old warehouse for their photo shoot. Strangely, Lance feels JC's eyes on him as he changes, and finds himself stealing glances without thinking about it.

The shoot is playful, like the old days, with the guys draping their arms around each other and playfully pouncing on one another.

"Okay, for this next shot I need you to squeeze in as tight as you can," says Rene, the photographer.

Lance, who is standing behind Joey, shuffles forward a few inches. He can sense JC behind him.

"Closer, JC." JC takes another step. "Good. Now your hand on Lance's shoulder." JC follows the instructions, wondering why it's making him so nervous.

The heat rises in Lance's cheeks when JC's hand touches him. He's never reacted this way--not since the first time they took pictures together, and it startles him.

"Guys, a little closer." Any closer and JC will be inside him, thinks Lance, and the thought, surprisingly, is not unpleasant. At least that's what his body tells him, as he suddenly, and quite uncontrollably, becomes aroused.

"Now you see how I felt the other day when I was TRYING to shoot pool," JC jokes, but his voice is thick.

At first, JC's words don't register. Lance is too embarrassed by his own condition to grasp what JC is saying. "Can we take a break?" he begs, after the shutter clicks.

Sighing, Rene nods. "Be back in five minutes," he commands, showing his fingers for emphasis.

Lance darts out of the room and into the men's room, where he splashes cold water on his face, unconcerned about the fact that this will now require another turn in the make-up chair.

JC collapses onto a couch with his arm over his eyes. "What was that about?" he wonders.

*****

He'd heard the rumors about certain members of the group being gay, but he and the guys just laughed them off. Because they weren't true. He's not gay and neither is JC. Whatever is going on between them is just backlash from his break-up with Laura. Or so Lance tries to convince himself. Because try as he might, he can't help but find excuses to talk to JC, or be near him, or touch him, which is pretty funny considering Lance isn't a particularly touchy-feely kind of guy, in comparison with his bandmates. He just can't ignore what happened the other day during the photo shoot. He had a hard-on, and it was JC's fault.

JC's not sure now if he's glad or upset that Lance is staying with him. Confused. That's it. All the chemistry he'd hoped for with Em, he seems to be having with Lance, and for the first time since they've known each other, he's not sure how to act with Lance.

It's their last night before Lance is to head back to Orlando. They've spent the day going over their act for an upcoming television appearance, and Joey wants to go clubbing. Chris wants to see a movie and Justin wants to spend time with Britney. "What do you want to do, C?" asks Joey.

"Um, maybe I should just go home. I have to, like, get up and take Lance to the airport tomorrow."

"You don't want to go out?" asks Lance.

Does Lance WANT him to go? "Well, I guess I could for a while."

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. You're right--we do have to get up early tomorrow. I mean, I have to get up. I mean, you have to get up to drive me. I mean--"

Joey cracks up. "This is not a date, guys. You don't have to be so nervous."

"What's that supposed to mean?" JC asks. "Fine. Let's go out."

Lance scratches the back of his head, completely confused by his own behavior. And it doesn't get any better when they get to the club, as Joey immediately begins scoping girls and egging Lance on. He knows Lance and Laura have been fighting, so it's only natural for him to try to get Lance's mind off it, but what Joey doesn't seem to realize is that Lance isn't interested in any of the girls in the club. And that knowledge terrifies Lance. So he drinks.

JC dances as if he's trying to exhaust himself. Finally he makes his way back to the table for a drink. "Hey," he says to Lance. "What are you doing all by yourself?"

"Watching."

JC looks pointedly at the empty glasses. "Watching what?"

"You."

"Am I interesting?" JC says lightly, but his heart is pounding.

"Yeah."

"Oh." A smile spreads over JC's face at the simple syllable. "Hey, come dance."

"Okay." Lance manages to heave himself up from the table and follows JC to the dance floor, where lights flash and the music pounds out a primitive beat.

In the dimness punctuated by strobing lights they dance, pushed closer by the crowds around them. JC fights to keep from pressing up against Lance, and wishes he could blame it on the alcohol. But he's barely had anything to drink.

Lance, on the other hand, has had plenty to drink and as a result is quite uninhibited. He could be dancing with a girl for all it matters. He's moving the same way he would with a girl. Only he's doing it with JC.

JC has never seen Lance so free, so open, so . . . seductive. He feels like he's being pulled to Lance, and gives into it, edging closer.

Soon, their bodies are touching, their sweat pouring onto each other, their scents penetrating each other's noses. Soon, it's like they are the only two people in the club.

"You're making me crazy," JC rasps in Lance's ear as they grind together.

"I'll stop."

"Don't you dare."

Lance grinds his hips and shakes his ass. He never touches JC but only an inch separates their bodies.

"Tease," JC hisses.

"Look who's talking."

"What do you want, Lance? What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to make the room stop spinning."

JC masks his surprise. He leads Lance off the floor. "C'mon. Let's go get some air."

Lance follows JC out the back door of the club, into the parking lot. He leans against the wall of the building and takes a deep breath. "Much better."

"You should have said something sooner."

"I was fine when I was sitting down. But then you draaaaaagged me onto the dance floor," Lance says with a giggle.

"Oh, and you were fighting me every step of the way."

"You took advantage of my helpless state. Plying me with drinks so you could get me out here."

"Yeah, that's just how it happened, dude." JC smiles a slow, lazy smile. "But now that you got me to get you out here . . . "

"So this was all MY doing?"

"We could blame it all on Joey for forcing us to come out."

Lance considers that for a moment. "Okay. It's all Joey's fault."

"Good. Now that we got THAT figured out . . . " JC leans closer. "That was . . . um . . . fun."

"What was?" asks Lance, remaining where he is.

"You . . . me . . . dancing."

"It was a LOT of fun. The best fun I've had in a long time."

"Yeah, we should, um, do this more often."

"Hang out in parking lots?"

"Go dancing."

"You and me?"

"Um, yeah?"

"Like, on a date?"

"I didn't say . . . I just . . . this was fun. So we should do it more . . . "

"Okay."

"Did you, um, want it to be a date? Cause we could . . . do that, too."

"JC, are you hitting on me?"

"I don't know. Are you?"

"I don't know. Mayyyyyyyyyybe."

"Mayyyyyyybe I should take you home."

"Will you tuck me in?"

"Tuck with a 't'?"

"JC Chasez, does your mama know you talk like that?"

"You give me a setup like that and not expect me to use it?"

"I should wash your mouth out."

"It was a completely innocent comment."

"So will you?"

"I'll tuck you in and bring you breakfast in bed if you want."

"I want. But you'll never get up."

"I can get up when I need to."

"That's quite a talent."

"Not with the right . . . stimulation."

Lance looks down, giggling nervously, glad he's intoxicated enough to carry on this conversation. "What kind of sti-mu-la-tion?"

"My alarm clock, of course."

"What happens when it goes off?"

"I get up, dude."

"Sounds pretty efficient."

"Efficient, but not much fun."

"Well . . . what would be fun?"

"Dancing with you was fun. That could . . . get me up."

"Did it?"

"You were there. You couldn't tell?"

"I could tell. I just couldn't do anything about it."

"What did you want to do about it?"

"I can't tell you."

"Let's go home. You can show me."

Through the haze of alcohol a voice screams in Lance's head, "No! Don't do it! You're not gay!" but instead, he says, "Okay." He leads JC back through the door of the club where they tell Joey they're leaving and then they're in JC's car and Lance is too numb to change his mind.

JC keeps glancing over at Lance as he drives, trying to figure out what's happening. How far is Lance really ready to take this? How far is he himself ready to take this?

Finally, they pull into JC's drive, and as they head to the house Lance notices how deathly quiet it is out here, with only the ocean in the distance breaking the silence.

JC fumbles with his keys, finally releasing the lock and following Lance inside, watching him intently.

Lance manages to pull off his jacket with minimal awkwardness, but when he reaches the couch he topples onto the cushions with a soft thud.

JC drops bonelessly onto the couch, rolling his head to look at Lance, letting just a little of his desire show in his eyes.

Lance kicks his foot playfully against JC's thigh. "So, you're not tired?"

"Me? Tired?"

"Yeah, you. Tired."

"Do I look tired?"

Lance sits up and brings his face close. "No. You look . . . like JC."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"It's not bad."

Lance is so close that JC can feel Lance's breath on his face. "But is it good?"

In his state, Lance is mesmerized by JC's calm, blue eyes. "Yes," he whispers.

"Lance," JC breathes. "Can I, can I touch you?"

"Where?"

JC smiles and lets the bubble of tension surrounding them break. "Right here on the couch."

"Why do you want to touch me on the couch?"

"Because I couldn't really touch you on the dance floor."

"Where are you gonna touch me?"

JC lays a hot hand on Lance's knee. "Here?"

Lance is too drunk to flinch, so instead he just stares at the hand. "We're gay, you know."

"Yeah. Or bi. We could be bi."

"Everyone on the Internet says we're gay."

"What do they know?"

"I'm not gay, JC."

"What are you saying, Lance?"

"I'm saying I'm not gay. I know people think I'm gay, but I'm not."

"I don't know what you are. But I know what happened when we were dancing."

Lance lays back. "Shit."

"Look, Lance, you don't want to do this, that's fine. I'll still tuck you in and get you breakfast and take you to the airport. You'll go back to Orlando and we'll forget any of this happened."

"What happened? What's happening to us?"

"I don't know. But it feels good."

"What about girls?"

"I don't have all the answers, Lance. I don't have any of them."

"I don't either. This is so confusing."

JC sighs. "Maybe we should just, just get some sleep."

"Okay." But before JC can stand up, Lance reaches out to take his hand. "Hey."

JC slowly raises his eyes from their linked hands to Lance's face. "Yeah?"

"Just . . . hey."

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were flirting."

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