Going Places
by Karen and LB
© 2002
His first party in months. The last time everyone was together--well, Lance can't remember. Britney couldn't make that party, so he's glad she could find the time now. It feels right having her here with Justin, Chris, Joey, JC, and the gang. He loves it when his worlds collide. Celebrities mixing with his friends from high school, everyone having a good time and mingling like they were all just ordinary people.
He makes his way from room to room, making sure everyone has a drink in hand and there is food on the tables. In the sunroom, he spots JC in the corner talking to one of the assistants from WEG. He makes his way over and asks, "You guys okay? You need anything? Joey's making margaritas in the kitchen."
JC turns to Lance with a smile. "You let Joey loose in your kitchen? I though you LIKED your kitchen."
"Aw, he's okay. I've got the maid coming tomorrow anyway."
JC glances around the beautiful room."So, what's new since the last time I was here?"
Eagerly, Lance practically bounces over to the bar. "Come here. This is all new. Just had it installed. That's real bamboo over there. Oh, and come outside; you HAVE to see this." Lance practically pulls his bandmate by the arm outside to the patio and under the sunroom where there's a shaded sitting area. "This is in case someone doesn't want to sit in the sun. I like lots of candles, so at night you could sit out here too and have drinks."
JC's eyes light up as he imagines the area lit by candles. "Wow. You've really got a dream house here."
"Yeah. It's what I always wanted. They did a great job with it. You wanna see something else?"
"Yeah, sure. Anything you wanna show me."
Lance leads his friend back through the house. "Remember that room I put all my Dr. Seuss stuff in?" They head up the stairs and down the hall, where they can hear laughter and music from the room in question. "Check this out." As they enter the room, Britney and Justin, seated on the plush couch, turn and wave, and Joey is by the table near the bookcase pouring drinks from the pitcher in his hand. "Ford did all the artwork on the walls."
JC walks around the room, dodging the other guests, and examines every bit of the artwork. "This is amazing."
"He did it all by hand." Out of the corner of his eye, Lance can see Joey standing over Meredith and Beth, who are flipping through one of the Dr. Seuss books from Lance's collection. Suddenly, Joey loses his footing and the pitcher tips over, spilling pink liquid all over the table and the book and the two girls. They both shriek, pushing back from the table.
"Oh shit!" Joey exclaims. Everyone moves forward, scrambling to find something to clean up the mess and stop it from going any further.
"It's okay," Lance says reassuringly, but inside he feels his stomach clench. Not that book. Please not that book. But as he gets closer, his worse fear is realized. Even through the stained pages he can see the words of his favorite book. The book his mother gave him when he bought the house. The book he loves to give friends when something monumental happens in their lives. Oh the Places You Will Go.
"I'm sorry," Joey keeps repeating to anyone who will listen. Someone produces a roll of paper towels and Joey sheepishly offers them to Beth and Meredith. "Dude," he says, turning to Lance. "I'm so sorry."
Lance smiles, forcing the lump in his throat down, and shakes his head. "It's no biggie, Joey. Just no more playing bartender for you," he jokes. "It's not a real house until somebody spills something."
JC watches Lance carefully. In spite of his words, Lance is upset, JC can see. JC moves in quietly and takes the book from Beth's hands. He takes it into the kitchen and starts carefully cleaning what he can and examining the book.
Lance notices JC disappearing with the book, but for now he concentrates on making his guests feel at ease. He jokes with Joey about his clumsiness and directs Beth and Meredith to the nearest bathroom to clean off, heading to the bar to see if he has any club soda.
Joey retreats to the kitchen to see if he can help and spots JC with the book. "I'm such an idiot."
"It was an accident, dude," JC says kindly, carefully blotting the soaked pages.
"I know, but I feel so bad."
On his way back upstairs, Lance sees JC and Joey in the kitchen, JC trying to save the book as best he can. Lance knows it's useless, but he's still grateful to JC for trying. JC has always been the most sensitive of the five of them, and it's times like this when he really shines. "Lance!" someone calls, so he disappears up the stairs.
JC gets to the front of the book, where he finds an inscription. All he can read of it now is "Love, Mom." His heart goes out to Lance. He turns to the title page and finds that the book was also signed by the author. It's at that moment that he knows he's going to replace the book. How hard can it be to find a signed first edition in perfect condition? He'll track it down, and he'll even get Mrs. Bass to inscribe it.
It's close to sunrise by the time the last guest leaves. Several crashers are tucked away in the guest rooms or on couches, and Lance wearily travels from room to room, stuffing paper plates and cups and other remains into a large trash bag.
The next day, the stragglers leave and Lance finds himself alone in his house, for a few hours at least. After the maid leaves, he finds the ruined book in the sunroom. Lance sits back on the couch, the book in his lap. The pages are still damp and warped and very, very pink. The inscription from his mother is no longer readable. He thinks back to the day when she presented it to him. It was his favorite book and out of all the housewarming gifts he received, this one was the most special. There's a part of him that's angry at Joey, but friends are more important than any material object, so he can't stay mad at Joey for long. He puts the book on the coffee table and heads outside with his cell phone to the pool, to call his friends and find out if everyone had a good time.
*****
JC is hunched over his computer, searching used book sites, not very successfully. Maybe he should ask Beth to look for this. She's good at this stuff, and she'd do anything for Lance. But it won't be the same that way--it won't come from him, so he keeps looking, not asking himself why this is so important to him.
Days pass. Having time off is normally precious to Lance, but now he's anxious to get back to work. Anxious to see his friends. Anxious, for some reason, to see JC.
JC now knows more about the antiquarian book business than he ever expected to. He's spent hours online and visited every used bookstore in driving distance. And he's learned that it is, in fact, hard to find a signed first edition in perfect condition.
One more night and they're back in business. Lance has spent the day with his family, barbecuing and playing games and just enjoying each other's company. He knows that in the coming weeks he won't see them as much, so he treasures every minute he has with them. But soon, his mother sends him home to pack and get a good night's sleep.
JC is waiting at the airport when Lance arrives. It wasn't planned-- just an impulse when Johnny mentioned he was sending a car.
Lance is not even aware there's a big grin plastered on his face when he sees JC at the gate. He pulls his friend into a hug and asks, "What are you doing here?"
"Meeting you, dude."
"You didn't have to. I could have just taken the car back. But thanks. It's nice to have someone waiting here."
"I guess I kinda missed you."
"Really? I missed you too. Thanks for coming down for my party."
"I had a great time."
"I'll have to have another the next time we have some days off. You wanna hang after the meeting?"
"Yeah, I'd like that."
"I could make us dinner and we could watch a movie."
"We could order in. You shouldn't have to cook on your first night back."
"I don't mind. But ordering in sounds good too. I am kind of beat." Before long, they're back at Lance's house, and he phones in for Chinese, knowing how much JC likes it. Lance pops a comedy into the DVD player, and they eat and watch and laugh. "You want something to drink?" Lance asks.
"Sure. Whatcha got?"
"Soda? Beer? I think I have a bottle of wine from the last party."
"Wine, please."
Lance trots to the bar and retrieves the bottle and two glasses, then puts on some music. He doesn't know why he does it; he's not even thinking. "You had some really great ideas today," he says to JC as he pours.
"Thanks, I've really been working on stuff."
"It's really good. I can't wait to hear it in the studio."
"What did you do for the rest of your time off?"
"Hung out with my friends and my sister and Ford. Went to the movies. Stuff like that."
"And you're all rested up for stuff to start again?"
"Heck yeah. To tell you the truth, I was starting to get a little bored."
"Yeah, I know what you mean. It got, um, boring here, um, without you."
"Did you hang out with the guys?"
"Yeah, some. I spent time with Tyler."
"That's cool--it's fun having him around."
"Yeah, we're way closer now than when we were kids."
"Is it because you're in the band?"
"I don't think so. I think it's just as you get older, age differences mean less."
"Yeah, that's true--look at us and Chris. Chris is like eight years older than me but he's one of my best friends. I'm lucky--Stacy and me are only a few years apart so we were always pretty close."
"Yeah, it's great how you're so close with your family."
"I couldn't do any of this without them." It suddenly strikes Lance that he and JC have never really talked like this. At least not unless they were being interviewed.
"You and your mom are real close, huh?"
"I love my mom. We're SO close--she knows me better than anyone." He laughs. "She and my dad would bust me whenever I went out to places I wasn't supposed to go. And she's always been so supportive of everything I do."
"I have a confession to make. Me and your mom and have been conspiring behind your back."
"What? What have you been up to?"
JC goes out to his backpack and fishes out a wrapped package. He brings it back and offers it to Lance. "For you."
Puzzled, Lance accepts the flat, rectangular object. "Huh? I don't get it--it's not my birthday."
"Nope. But you get a present anyway." Lance looks from JC to the present and back again. Gingerly, at first, he tears a corner of the paper. "I still don't understand--" but then he sees the familiar cover and even more carefully rips away the rest of the paper. "My book. This is my book."
Grinning proudly, JC says, "Yep."
Lance flips through the all-too familiar pages. "This is--this is a first edition?" He stops when he sees the scrawled signature on the title page. "It's SIGNED? Ted Geisel signed this book?"
JC shrugs. "Yeah. It had to be special, like your first one."
Even though nothing will ever replace that book, because of the significance attached to it, Lance is moved beyond words. "How did you find this? It's like brand-new."
"I searched till I found what I wanted. Did you look at the frontispiece?" he asks, shyly rolling out his newly acquired vocabulary.
"The WHAT?" Lance laughs.
"Go back a couple of more pages."
Lance flips back until the handwriting catches his eyes. He holds the page open and reads his mother's familiar handwriting: "Dear Lance, For the many places you still have to go. Love, Mom." and below that: "Oh, the places we've BEEN! Love, JC." One minute, Lance feels like crying the next he's laughing, delighted. "This is . . . amazing. Thank you." And without thinking about it, he throws his arms around JC and hugs him tightly.
JC returns the hug, pleased that his gift has meant so much to Lance. And sometime during the hug, it changes. Like a key change, a modulation. One moment it's friendly. The next it's . . . more.
If someone asked Lance when he started to feel something toward JC beyond friendship, he probably wouldn't be able to say. It's as though it were a natural transition and all they needed was a little push. His hand rubs JC's back and then he pulls back and leans his forehead against JC's, whispering this time, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," JC whispers back, aware to the smallest fraction how close Lance's lips are.
"Um, I . . . ," but Lance makes no move to separate.
It would only take the smallest movement of his head for his lips to touch Lance's, JC realizes. And with the thought comes the action.
The thing that surprises Lance most is not that he enjoys the kiss but that he's not pushing JC away. In fact, he's kissing him back, the way he would a date; the way he would someone he likes. And he likes JC. A lot. He realizes now that he has for a while.
The kiss is not aggressive. JC barely opens his lips. But he can taste Lance, feel him, and that's all that matters right now.
Lance has one hand on the book and one arm wrapped around JC's back, and he slides the book on the coffee table unaware until the last moment that the book has knocked into one of the wine glasses. Startled, he breaks the kiss and snatches the book back, but when he sees it hasn't been damaged, that not one drop of the wine spilled on the book he laughs nervously. "That was close."
"I'd find you another one."
"I kind of like this one."
"I'm kind of fond of it myself."
"It's always been my favorite."
"I know. It's cool. I sort of got one for myself, too, while I was looking for the perfect copy for you."
"So we have a matching set?"
"No. Mine's just a regular unsigned copy."
"We'll have to do something about that."
"You could sign my copy."
"Do you have it with you?"
"It's in my backpack." JC jumps up and practically runs to retrieve the book.
Lance searches for a pen. He feels silly doing this, but he also feels right about it. When JC returns, he takes the book and curls up on the couch. "No peeking," he warns, as he considers his words and then writes them down: "To JC, Thanks for starting this journey with me." He thinks about how to sign it, then decides to go for it. "Love, Lance."
When Lance hands the book back, JC opens it as seriously as if his life depended on it. He reads the inscription slowly and when he gets to the signature he turns his eyes happily on Lance. "Thanks."
"It's stupid. But I mean it."
"It's not stupid. And I'm glad you mean it."
Lance looks at JC, then away, smiling shyly. "I guess I've always felt something, but I never wanted to admit it. You know how I'm always saying that I have to be friends with someone first before I become involved in a relationship."
"I never thought you'd feel the same way."
"I really need to get to know the person first. But I've known you for so long, I can't believe I didn't see it sooner. I'm glad Joey ruined that book."
"Me, too," JC says, slipping an arm around Lance's shoulders.
Lance's brow furrows as a thought enters his mind. "How'd you get my mom to sign it?"
"I told her what I was trying to do, and when I finally got the book, I Fed-Exed it to her."
"You're amazing. I always you knew you were like the nicest person, but this . . . this is amazing." Lance turns his head to look into JC's tranquil blue-gray eyes. He'd never noticed that JC's eyes were the color of the ocean on a cloudy day, dreamlike, quiet. A stark contrast to his energetic personality. Lance loses himself in those eyes as he touches JC's lips with his mouth.
This time, JC does open his lips, not demanding but inviting Lance to explore. And Lance does. Like so many stage kisses he's practiced lately, his tongue slips unobtrusively into JC's mouth, tasting the remnants of the wine on his palate.
It's like electricity, that warm, wet touch. JC's other arm wraps around Lance, and he pulls Lance closer, feeling how their bodies seem to fit perfectly.
Lance follows JC's lead and moves closer even though he's a little scared of what's happening. This is his bandmate, after all, but it feels so right being here with him, kissing him.
JC's tongue teases playfully at Lance's and he strokes the soft skin of Lance's neck.
A shiver runs up Lance's spine at the gentle touch; it's as though he's being kissed for the first time.
JC slides his fingers up into Lance's hair as he turns the kiss from passive to participatory. Lance's lips are as soft as JC had imagined they would be, and his mouth as hot and irresistible.
Sensing that things are about to go farther than perhaps they should, Lance pulls back, breathless. "Wow, I, um, never knew you were such a good kisser."
JC grins. "What, you never read my resume?"
"You've been holding out on me. Is that what you put under 'special talents'?"
"I really need the right co-star to make it work."
"Is this an audition?"
"The part's yours if you want it."
Lance caresses JC's cheek. "I want it."
"I was hoping you'd say that."
"But . . . I think we should, um . . . you are a GREAT kisser. But if we keep doing this I don't know if I'll want to stop."
"I know what you mean. And you're right."
"I'm really glad you came to the airport."
"It wouldn't feel like home without someone there to meet you."
"You always seem to know just what a person needs."
"Not everyone. NO one knows what Chris needs."
"He needs a lobotomy!"
"That's definitely something I can't give him!"
"Well, he's not taking my book." Lance removes the book from the coffee table and holds it in his arms. "Listen, it's late--you wanna crash here?"
"Yeah, that would be good."
"This way you won't have to drive and since we have to be at Johnny's tomorrow anyway, we could go together."
JC takes Lance's hand. "Together."
Lance gives the hand a gentle squeeze. "And since we're learning new choreography, I'm gonna need all the help I can get."
"That's not true anymore."
"It's okay, really. I know dancing is not my strength. But it's fun anyway. I just hope Wade goes easy on us tomorrow."
"Sound like someone needs some encouragement. Tell you what. You go ahead and get ready for bed. I'll be up in a couple of minutes."
"Okay," Lance replies, suspiciously. He walks slowly to his room, turning around from time to time to see what JC is up to. Finally, he relents and changes into his favorite Dr. Seuss pajamas.
JC scurries around the kitchen, making hot cocoa from scratch. While the milk heats, he finds a mug and a tray. He fills the mug with the warm, chocolatey brew and heads upstairs.
Lance can smell the cocoa before JC even reaches the doorway. "You made me cocoa," he says, when JC appears.
JC smiles shyly. " I thought you could use some."
"How'd you know? It smells so good. I didn't even know I had it here."
"You had milk. You had cocoa. You had sugar."
"You oughta come over more." Lance takes the warm cup between his hands and blows softly, causing the steam to send a delicious scent wafting up his nose. He takes a sip and closes his eyes. It reminds him of all things home--being five and having his mother make him cocoa and tuck him in and read to him. "Mmmm, it's so good."
"See, I'm not as hopeless in the kitchen as everyone thinks."
"Don't worry--I won't tell. This is . . . REALLY good."
"Thank you." JC pulls Lance's book out. "Now, if I read to you, you think you can manage not to spill?"
Lance's eyes widen in delight. "Yeah! I promise." He kicks his feet under the covers and pulls the blanket up to his knees, making room on the bed for JC.
JC adjusts the pillows so he can lean against the headboard. He clears his throat. "Congratulations! Today is your day . . . "
Lance cradles the mug in both hands, letting the heat from the beverage penetrate his body. He leans his head on JC's shoulder to get a better look at the book (and, basically, to get closer to JC). He listens attentively as JC's melodic voice lulls him.
JC loves how Lance hangs on every word as if he's never heard them before, though JC knows Lance knows every comma and exclamation point.
JC's voice, like his music, engulfs Lance until he finds himself drifting off, the words blending with the hazy start of a very pleasant dream.
JC lets his voice get softer when he realizes Lance is falling asleep. When he finishes, his voice nearly a whisper, he puts the book safely aside, then carefully takes the mug from Lance's hands and puts it on the nightstand. He settles Lance onto the pillows, then leans on one elbow, watching him, until he, too drifts off.
Lance is the first to awaken the next morning. Slightly disoriented, he feels the extra weight in his bed and opens his eyes to see JC lying next to him, breathing steadily, quietly, a soothing rhythm. Lance sees the book on the nightstand and the empty mug and smiles. He doesn't move; he just lays quietly and watches JC as though seeing him for the first time. And his smile widens as he imagines, oh, the places they will go . . .