Medley: Gumby and Pokey
by Karen and LB
© 2002
The days when they learned new choreography were always a challenge. And a new choreography day with a new choreographer even more so. It's like your body gets used to moving in a certain way, and someone new comes along and demands that it move differently. At least that's how it feels to JC. And being demanding on himself, he wants to get it right the first time. So he watches Marty intently, concentrating on his every move and trying to mimic it exactly.
After years of learning complex dance moves, everything seems to click into place for Lance. He's never been in better shape, he's more focused, and he doesn't look like he's counting out the beats as he watches his reflection in the mirror. "Good, Lance," comments Marty. "Joey, watch your leg on the change-up." He pauses. "Something's not working for me. Why don't you take five and I'll think about it."
JC finds his water bottle and takes a long drink, then stretches, feeling the good ache of well-used muscles. He sits and watches the guys for a bit--Lance and Joey messing around with a hackeysack, Justin yelling--er--talking on his phone with Britney, Chris prancing around Justin in an easily recognizable parody of Brit's walk. He stands and stretches some more, unaware of Marty's thoughtful eyes on him.
Marty's eyes flick from JC to Lance and his now oh-so-powerful thighs, and back again. Like that proverbial lightbulb shining above his head, he smiles. "Okay, guys, c'mon back. I have an idea." And so he explains what's been missing and how he thinks he solved the problem. "See, before you had all the dancers so now that it's just you, we gotta interpret that segment of the song differently. So how about we give it a try."
Lance has listened to Marty explain the move, trying to picture it in his mind, and each time he keeps going back to JC. JC bending backward. On him. On his back. Bent over him. Backward. On his back. On Lance. JC's body. On him . . .
"Uh, Lance, you with us?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry."
"So can we try it?"
Lance shrugs. "Sure, I guess." He looks to JC for confirmation.
With an uncomfortable expression, JC says, "Yeah. Count it off." As they move into place, as Marty counts the beats leading into the new move, JC reminds himself that this is all part of the job. Still, he's uncharacteristically stiff as he tries the move for the first time, as if afraid to actually touch Lance.
Lance focuses on supporting his weight on his hands and knees and on making sure JC doesn't fall. He knows how flexible JC is--he's seen him in action. Nothing sexual, of course. They both decided years ago that it wouldn't be right to "drink from the local well." Now, with all eyes on him, he braces himself.
JC lowers himself backward in the slow cadence that Marty is beating, but the movement is not fluid, not what Marty has in mind. Instead, JC is as taut as a drawn bow. Still, it's an encouraging start.
"Okay," the choreographer says. "You've got the idea. Why don't you two work on that some more, while I teach Joey and Chris their parts?"
Lance waits till JC is upright and he stands. "So you want to go over there where we'll have some room?" He gestures to the corner at the opposite side of the room.
"Yeah, sure." They move to the corner of the studio and settle down to work. JC watches himself in the mirror, trying to get just the right curve to his back as Marty had shown him. He still holds himself inches above Lance.
"JC, I think the point of this move is that I'm going to support you. Trust me--I won't let you fall."
"I know you won't. I just don't want to hurt you."
"How are you gonna hurt me? You weigh like five pounds."
"Hey!" JC laughs, then gets back to business. "It's got to be just right, though. If you support me too much, I'll never get back up on my own."
"So I'll give you a hand. What if I have one arm out so that when you need to get up I'll just give you a little push?"
"That's good. I might not need the push as much as just a signal when to stop."
"Okay. Let's try it. Only this time, go back as far as you want and don't worry--I'll support you."
JC takes his position in front of Lance and slowly bends backward till he feels Lance's arm guiding him. Then he rolls himself back upward. Lance tingles when the pressure of JC's body causes his muscles to contract slightly, but he focuses on making sure his friend doesn't fall. When it's over, he sits back on his heels and looks up at JC. "What do you think?"
JC fidgets. "Um, I think it's gonna work. It'll be cool, with the music and all."
"How you guys doing over there?" Marty calls out.
"We're good, I think," answers Lance.
"Let's see it all together. Now, remember, when you do it, it's like time stops and you're caught in this out of control moment." They join the others and try that section of the song with the music. It's not completely there yet, but they have the general sense that Marty's after.
"Do that again," Justin says. "We wanna see it." Marty cues the music and again Lance crouches, waiting for JC to do his thing. JC bends, pauses, straightens.
As soon as he's upright, Justin crows, "Dude, you look like Gumby!"
Joey cracks up. "He does! I guess that makes Lance Pokey."
JC was already blushing, but Joey's comment turns him scarlet. "Hey!"
"C'mon, dude, you bend just like him." Joey takes one of JC's arms and bends it this way and that.
"Cut it out," JC says, pulling his arm away. "I'm not green and I'm not clay."
"No, but you bend."
"Does that mean Lance pokes?" asks Chris.
"Yeah, I'll be poking YOU if you don't shut up."
"Ooo, he's feisty." Chris playfully punches Lance, who swats back, and soon they're wrestling.
Marty rolls his eyes. "I guess that's about it for today. We're not going to get anything else done."
Lance notes this is one big difference between Marty and Wade. Wade never would have let them off so easily. And he's a little relieved. He thinks the move will look great and the girls will love it, but it's still a bit unsettling to work with JC this way.
"Just be back here at 10 tomorrow," adds Marty.
"Who's up for a bite to eat?" Joey asks. "Lance?"
"Sure. Gumby?"
"Shut. Up."
"Sorry." But Lance is smiling. It really was pretty funny, and throughout dinner he keeps thinking about how flexible JC is and wonders just how flexible he is in bed.
When he gets home, JC finds himself thinking about the three days he and Lance had "dated," a few years ago. They'd never gone beyond kissing, and had decided quickly that it was too risky. The other guys had never known, and he and Lance had successfully made the transition back to just friends. Sometimes, though, JC would look at Lance and remember what he'd felt like in his arms. And wonder what this newer, buffer Lance would feel like.
"It's GUM-BY, dammit!" exclaims Chris the next day at the rehearsal studio. Lance is tying his sneaker, trying to hide his smirk. All night he couldn't stop thinking about JC's new nickname and how it was so fitting.
JC pretends not to hear as he does his warm-up stretches. He learned long ago that the best thing to do with Chris when he gets like this is ignore him.
During their lunchbreak, after ordering in some sandwiches from Subway, Lance approaches JC. "You know they don't mean anything by it. The Gumby thing, I mean."
JC looks up. "I know. I don't know why I let them get to me."
"I don't either. It IS pretty funny. And, you know, Gumby is kind of cute."
JC brushes a hand over Lance's forehead. "You got a fever or something?"
Lance pulls back, scowling. "Admit it. Gumby is cute. He can, like, bend all over the place."
"I never knew you liked little green guys, Lance."
"You have something against green guys, JC?"
"Never thought about it. What, were you hot for the Jolly Green Giant, too?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Oh. Maybe it was the Little Green Sprout."
"There isn't anything little about that sprout."
"If you say so . . . Pokey."
Lance laughs. "Pokey, huh? I think I can live with that, Gumby."
JC glances at the other guys. "I don't think we have a choice."
"It could have been worse."
"How?"
Lance raises his eyebrows. "This is Joey and Chris we're talking about."
JC glances over to see Chris putting Joey in a headlock. "You've got a point there."
"So look at it like a badge of honor. Not everyone can be Gumby, you know."
"And not everyone can be as loyal and steadfast as Pokey."
Trying not to read too much into the statement, Lance turns his attention back to his sandwich. "So it's all good."
JC picks up his water bottle. "Yeah. It's all good."
And it is good, and comfortable. Even when they do the move, it's just like every other part of the rehearsal.
After, of course, is a different story.
"You know," Chris observes. "Gumby is very Gumby. But Pokey, Pokey doesn't seem to be doing any . . . poking."
"You need a hobby, Chris," states Lance as he packs up his stuff.
"I have hobbies. It's YOU I'm worried about."
"Me? What'd I do?"
"Nothin'. That's just it. No hobbies. No fun."
"I have lots of hobbies, lots of fun."
"You just keep telling yourself that." Chris addresses the room. "Who's up for clubbing tonight?"
"I'm in," Lance says, almost defiantly.
"Ooh, Pokey's getting tired of being the sidekick."
"I'm nobody's sidekick."
JC turns his eyes on Chris. "You're not even . . . um . . . those other characters that, you know, I can't remember the names of." He looks at the others. "That wasn't very impressive, was it?"
"JC, I have no idea what you're talking about," Justin says, shaking his head.
"Never mind. I'm just, you know. Stupid."
"No you're not," says Lance. "You just need a drink."
"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea." JC glares at Chris. "And stop snickering."
"Who's snickering?"
But he does, later at the club after they've all gone home to shower and change. "Hey, Gumby, teach us a new Gum-by dance!" he exclaims on the dance floor.
"As soon as you teach us the new goat dance, Mr. Chin Horns."
"Step aside, Gumb-man." And Chris proceeds to do just what JC asked. He wiggles his horns, he shakes his ass, and he even makes goat noises.
Lance is in stitches and can barely breathe. "Oh man, you gotta show that to Marty!"
"It might kill the poor guy." JC says, when he finishes giggling and falling out of his chair.
Lance rushes over to catch JC. "Whoa! Better not try THAT move on Marty."
JC giggles again. "Look at me. Years of professional training and I can't even MOVE."
"You can move better than anyone on the dance floor."
"It's just sitting that gives me problems."
"So don't sit. Dance." To demonstrate, Lance does his signature Lance- dance.
"You asking me to hit the floor with you?"
"Come on." Lance motions with his head.
JC follows Lance and they're soon swallowed up by the crowd. JC feels the music hit him like a wave and he starts to move, feeling it in the tiniest muscle.
"Gum-by! Gum-by! Gum-by!" Chris starts to chant, and soon everyone around them joins in. Lance is practically doubled over with laughter, and he has to hold onto Joey to keep from falling over.
JC is torn between being a good sport and being annoyed. It's one thing to have inside jokes, another to share them with a bunch of strangers. He decides to go get a drink.
Sensing JC's irritation, Lance hurries after him. "JC, what's wrong? We were just kidding around."
"I just want a drink."
Lance lays some money on the bar. "Here, I'll get it for you."
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to."
"Thanks." JC accepts the drink from the bartender and turns to Lance. "You think I'm being too sensitive, don't you?"
"Maybe a little. Why does it bother you so much?"
"I guess . . . It's like, we're not kids anymore. I don't get why everything has to be a joke. And then, the other part is, well, it's one thing to have an inside joke. And another to, like, share it with a whole club."
"First of all, we always joke like this. No matter how old we are. That's what brothers do. I don't have any brothers, so I love that I can be this way with you. And I guess Chris didn't think it was just our joke. He really doesn't mean anything by it--you know that. So what's REALLY bothering you?"
"I told you. I'm just tired of it. Can't I just be tired?"
"Sure, I guess. You're just usually not tired." Lance takes a sip of his drink and looks back out at the dance floor. "I'll talk to them tomorrow, tell them to lay off the jokes."
JC manages a smile. "That'll just make Chris worse. You know it will."
"Yeah." Lance grins, thinking of all the ways Chris has tortured them over the years. "But admit it--you love the attention."
"Sometimes. But sometimes I just wanna, you know, hear myself think."
"What do you mean?"
"I don't even know. I'm just weird or something."
"We're all weird. That's why we belong together."
JC laughs. "That's comforting. I'm just . . . I'm just gonna go. I'm not good company tonight."
"Okay, dude. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah. And Lance?"
"What?"
"Thanks for the drink. And listening."
Lance claps JC on the shoulder. "Anytime, bro."
It's that friendly hand on his shoulder that stays with JC as he drives home, as he works over his keyboard for a couple of hours. It's what gives him the confidence to saunter into rehearsal the next day, ready to face Chris down if need be.
As promised, Lance had pulled Chris aside when they arrived and asked him to tone it down. And he did, for the most part, until The Move. He just couldn't hold it in any longer and began to snicker, then Joey began to snicker, then Justin looked at Joey and Chris and began to giggle, then Lance made the mistake of looking up and lost his concentration and his balance and collapsed on the ground, taking JC with him. "Oh man, oh man, I'm sorry," his muffled voice says, underneath JC.
"You okay?" JC asks as he rolls off. He stands and offers a hand to Lance, then, not waiting for a reply, faces the others. "Look, guys. We always said we'd draw the line on the kidding around when it gets dangerous. I could have gotten hurt. So could Lance. So it stops here." JC doesn't get angry often, and his anger dissipates quickly now.
"ARE you okay?" he asks Lance, finally realizing he's still gripping Lance's hand. Standing now, Lance doesn't release JC's hand either. "I'm fine. I'm really sorry. That won't happen again."
JC squeezes Lance's hand, then lets go. "Sorry, Marty. We're ready now."
For the rest of rehearsal, Lance's mind keeps going back to JC's hand. That strong grip. The smooth skin. And he imagines what that hand might be like on his . . . but he doesn't let the thoughts go further. They tried that once before and they realized it wouldn't work. No, it's better this way, just being friends.
"You guys want to see a movie?" asks Joey.
"I can't tonight. Got some reading to do."
"Okay, spaceboy, see you tomorrow."
The boys file out, heading off in their respective directions, but when Lance tries to start his car, the engine won't kick in.
After searching around for a particular CD he wants to listen to, JC finally pulls out of his parking space and heads for the exit, but notices Lance's car is still there. He backs up and lowers his window. "You need a ride or something?"
Lance had just gotten off the phone with AAA. "Would you mind? I just called the tow truck."
"You don't have to wait with the car?"
"Can you wait till they get here? They can't work on it until tomorrow so it's gonna have to sit in the shop until then."
"Sure. Get in." JC sweeps a pile of CDs from the passenger seat.
"Thanks." Lance climbs in, and as promised, the truck arrives to pick up Lance's SUV. As they pull out, Lance remarks, "You got a lot of CDs, JC."
"Yeah? I guess I do."JC glances over at Lance. "I never know what I'm going to want to listen to."
"So what do you want to listen to now?"
"You pick. Um, do you want to go straight home? Or do you need to go somewhere first?"
Lance thinks fast. He was going to go straight home, but suddenly doesn't feel like it. "I was gonna hit the mall first--to get a new pair of cross-trainers. Mine are wearing down."
"We could do that. And maybe get a bite to eat."
"Sure, if you didn't have plans."
"No, I was just going home." JC pauses as a thought occurs to him. "That whole stash you got from Reebok and no cross-trainers?"
"Yeah, um, but I like Nikes for that."
"Oh. Yeah. okay." When they arrive at the mall, JC parks, then rummages around in the back seat until he locates a couple of baseball caps. "Here," he says, offering one to Lance.
"Thanks." It's the nature of their lives that they can't seem to be out in public without proper headgear. "You sure I can't find a pair of cross-trainers back there?" Lance jokes.
"You wanna walk home?"
"No. Not until I get my new sneakers."
"It's a long walk even in new sneakers," JC teases.
"A very long walk. So I promise to be good." To prove it, Lance flashes a very sweet, seemingly innocent smile.
The smile catches JC unaware, and he almost chokes on his next words, then recovers. "Y-you don't fool me for a moment."
Lance claps his hands, laughing. "You can't blame a guy for trying."
"C'mon. Let's go find you some nice Pokémon sneakers."
Lance grabs JC's arm and stops him. "Dude, get real. X-men."
"Hello, Kitty."
"Ugh! No way. It's Powerpuff Girls or nothing."
"Yeah, that sounds about right. C'mon." JC starts heading down the mall, then stops short. "I can't escape it," he declares, pointing at a Gumby and Pokey shirt in a store window.
"See? You were meant to be Gumby."
"I wouldn't talk, Pokey."
"Pokey's cute."
"If you say so."
"He is. He's this cute little horsey. Everyone loves horseys."
"Did you hit your head when you fell?"
"No. C'mon, let's get my sneakers."
JC follows Lance down the mall to the sneaker store and waits patiently as Lance tries on several pairs. Satisfied with his purchase, as they're walking out Lance says, "Thanks for coming with me."
"No problem. You want to eat here? Or we could go somewhere less, um, teeny," he asks, glancing around.
"There's a Chili's here."
"You want your baby back, baby back, baby back?"
"Barbecue sauce," adds Lance, as low as he can go.
JC starts giggling, hanging onto Lance's shoulder for support.
"Is that a yes?"
JC nods, not trusting his voice, and practically runs toward Chili's. "I'm starving," he finally says. They race to the restaurant and are fortunately not recognized--they keep their heads low and are brought to a booth at the back. Conversation throughout dinner is easy and comfortable, and Lance wonders not for the first time why it didn't work out romantically between them.
Finally, all that's left on the table are their margaritas. They're in a fairly secluded booth, so JC takes off his baseball cap and runs his fingers through his hair. "This is nice," he says. "We should, like, do this more. Not the your car breaking down part."
Lance starts to fidget with his napkin. "You mean, um, go out? Just the two of us?"
"You're . . . you're like a peaceful person to hang with. It's not all about noise with you."
"I thought you liked noise."
"Sometimes. But sometimes, I just, you know, wanna have a good meal and talk. You know." JC laughs lightly. "Not that this is my idea of a really good meal."
"Hey now, this is good eats. But of course if you want real barbecue, you gotta come to my granny's."
"Will you take me sometime?"
Lance's eyes light up. JC question is completely unexpected. "Sure. Next time I go home, you can come with me."
"Cool," JC says, finishing his drink. "You want coffee or anything?"
"No, I'm good. Let me get this, since you let me bum a ride."
"Thanks. Do you, um, want me to pick you up in the morning?"
"Would you mind?"
"Of course not. I know how it sucks being without wheels."
"Hopefully they'll have it fixed by the time we're done."
"Yeah, probably. But if they don't, I'll be, like, your chauffeur."
"You'd do that? Thanks, JC. That's really nice of you. I guess I owe you for this."
JC shrugs. "You'd do the same."
"Nah, I'd make you pay."
"You just did. You bought me dinner."
"So we're even?"
JC grins and pulls his baseball cap back on. "Until tomorrow."
"I knew there was a catch." And for the rest of that night, while trying to concentrate on his book, Lance wonders what that catch may be.
For once the alarm clock isn't just an annoyance to JC. He wakes up eager for the day, and not exactly sure why. He finds himself humming through his shower, and by the time he dresses in comfortable clothes for rehearsal he's wide awake. JC stops at a coffee shop and gets coffee for himself and Lance and pulls up at Lance's house at the appointed time.
Although he feels like skipping, Lance controls himself as he walks with an easy gait to JC's car. "Hey. Thanks for picking me up. And you brought me coffee! Wow!"
"I didn't know if I should get you breakfast."
"I ate, but thanks. This was really nice of you," he adds, holding up his coffee cup.
"It's okay. I was getting some for myself."
The day goes by quickly. Marty is even more impressed by how well the new move looks. There's a certain synergy in the move that wasn't there before. When Lance is down on his knees, he's more conscious than before of JC's body, and this fact doesn't displease him at all. In fact, he likes it. REALLY likes it.
As they're packing to leave, Lance asks, "Hey, C, can you give me a lift to the shop to pick up my car?" Joey looks up in surprise. Lance usually asks him to do stuff like this. He watches as JC smiles almost shyly and says "Sure, Lance." Joey shrugs and closes his bag.
On the way to the shop, Lance chews his nails. "So, um, I like the new choreography."
"Yeah, it's really starting to work."
"Yeah, it works really well."
"It's different, but it needs to be, you know, without a lot of extra stuff happening onstage."
"You look good doing it."
"Thanks. You feel good doing it. I mean, um, you know, when I do the backbend thing, you feel good under me. SOLID I mean. You feel solid, and strong and, um um . . . "
"And?" Lance is grinning now, his arm hanging out the window. JC stares straight ahead, his expression almost surprised. "And, I, um, I, um, I like it." Feeling more confident, Lance throws an arm over the back of the seat and starts playing with JC's hair. "You like it, hmm? How much do you like it?"
"More than I should."
"Oh." Lance takes his hand away and looks out the window.
JC glances over at Lance. "I, um, I liked that, too."
"More than you should?"
JC smiles. "Probably." He glances over again quickly. "It's been so long since we . . . I guess it caught me by surprise."
"I know. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Do you ever think . . . that maybe we should have given it a try?"
"Yes."
This time JC's look is more than a glance. "Oh. Oh, wow."
"Whoa, watch the road, dude."
JC quickly turns his eyes back to the traffic ahead. "Sorry."
After a moment Lance asks, "Do you?"
"Yeah. I mean, I think we probably made the right decision then. We were so young. And Lou . . . But now, now . . . I think we could maybe have something."
"We could? Now? You mean you want to . . . "
"Yeah. I mean, if you do."
"I don't know. It could be complicated."
"Oh," JC says softly, as he pulls into the car shop.
"On the other hand, it could be really fun."
JC puts his car in park and looks up hopefully. "It could."
Lance stares out the window again but doesn't get out of the car. "What if what we want is better than what we'll have?"
"That could happen. But if we don't try, we'll never know. And it could be better than anything we could have hoped for."
"You Bass? The 4-Runner?" A burly man approaches the car with a clipboard.
"Huh? Oh yeah." Lance gets out and follows the man inside, his mind nowhere near focused on his car.
JC waits in his car, not knowing what else to do. He tells himself he's just waiting to make sure Lance's car is all set.
Ten minutes later, Lance leans in the passenger window. "It's fixed. So, um . . . "
JC looks up, startled from his reverie. "Oh, yeah, so, you're like, all set? You don't, um, need me anymore?"
"I didn't say that."
"I meant as driver."
"Oh. No, um, it's all fixed. So I guess I'll see you."
"We could, um, do something. Go for a ride to test out your car . . . "
Knowing what a stretch that is, even for them, Lance decides not to blow JC's cover. "Yeah, because you never know with these things. One minute everything could be fine, and the next you're stranded by the side of the road."
"Fine. Laugh at me. I'm . . . I'm just not ready to let you go yet."
"So don't."
"Then let's do something. Ride around or go to a movie or get ice cream or, or buy cross trainers . . . "
"Ice-cream sounds good."
"So, um, meet me at my house and we'll take your car?"
Lance glances around, as though expecting the answer to walk up to him. "Uh, sure." They drive to an outdoor stand renowned for its homemade ice cream. Picnic tables provide a place for customers to enjoy their treats. It's at one of these that the boys are seated, cones in hand. "This was a great idea," remarks Lance.
"Ice cream is always a good idea," JC says as he watches Lance's pink tongue licking at the butter pecan.
Oblivious to JC's attention, Lance's tongue flicks out to catch a trickle that's trying to escape the confines of his cone. "We should put this in our rider."
"Maybe not. Joey. Ice cream. You do the math."
"Good point. I don't think there's money in the budget. So I guess ice cream can be our thing."
"That works. Our secret vice."
"Careful, if this leaks to the press we're ruined."
JC laughs, delightedly. "Really. We'll be sending the bodyguards out under cover of darkness to feed our habit."
"We'll be casing out 7-Elevens all over the country."
"Signing promotional deals with Ben and Jerry's."
"Now you're talking! We should talk to Johnny about this. Maybe we could name our own flavor."
"What would we call it, Gumby and Pokey? And what flavor would it be? Chocolate-chip-butter-pecan?"
Lance nods his head slowly, mulling it over. "Yeah . . . I've never tried that combination, but I bet it could work."
"If we were alone, you could try it right now."
Lance stops, mid-lick. "I'm done. Are you done?"
JC jumps up. "Bring it with you," he says, nodding at Lance's ice cream cone.
Lance chomps on the cone on the way to the car and chucks the rest. "Why are we doing this?"
"Which part?"
"I don't know, all of it?" They're on the road now, heading to JC's house.
"Because we might have something and we want to find out?"
"Okay." Lance parks the car, looks at JC, smiles, and gets out. He tries to still the butterflies in his stomach. He's more nervous about this than he is about the tests he's going to have to pass for space.
JC leads the way into the house, managing only to drop his keys twice as he lets them in. "So, um, come on in."
Lance shoves his hands in his pockets and looks around as though he's never been here before. Seeing a magazine on JC's side table, Lance picks it up and starts flipping through it.
"Hey, dude. It's me. I mean, we don't have to do anything about this if you don't want to."
Lance puts down the magazine, realizing how stupid he's acting. "No, I want to. I do."
JC leads Lance to a couch. "At least we agree on that."
"So what do we do now?"
"This." JC leans in and kisses Lance very lightly. It's not a long kiss, or a passionate one, but it serves to break the ice. "I've waited years to do that again."
Lance swallows, not trusting his voice to express what he's feeling. "I guess we have a lot to make up for."
JC cups Lance's face in one hand. "No. Nothing to make up for. Then . . . it wasn't the right time. We couldn't have handled it. Now . . . we're ready."
"Are you sure you want this? That it's not just 'cause we're working together and stuff?"
"I'm working with everyone. You see me kissing Chris?"
"You better not."
"Maybe if he got rid of the horns."
"That's it--I'm growin' a beard."
"Didn't you just shave one?"
"I can grow it back."
JC runs a finger over Lance's jaw. "I like this."
Lance's chin tingles where JC touches it. "You, um, don't think I'm more, like--MANLY--with a beard?"
"I don't think you need facial hair to make you manly."
"So you think I'm manly?"
"Well, duh. Have you looked in a mirror lately?"
"No, it'll crack."
"If you're going to look that hot, you're going to have to learn to take a compliment."
"So you just want me for my body?"
"I want you for your everything."
"So what are you gonna do about it?"
"Kiss you again?"
"Okay." Lance takes a deep breath and sits back, his eyes half lidded with lust.
JC leans in and kisses Lance again, more lingeringly than before, opening and closing his lips over Lance's again and again.
Lance brings a hand to JC's face, his lips immediately responding as though on instinct, seeking JC's mouth, hungry for more.
JC slips his arms around Lance, gathering him close and tentatively venturing forth with his tongue. Lance parts his lips, allowing JC's tongue passage, intensifying the kiss as his arousal builds.
Memories flash through JC's mind of two much younger boys kissing like this. They add poignancy to the sensations of the present, and the kiss feels even more exciting, like the high of a perfect performance.
Lance explores JC's mouth as though it's the first time he's ever kissed anyone. And in some ways it is, because he never felt the things he's feeling now.
They kiss for a long time, because for now, kissing is enough. Being close is enough. And, from the faint remnants in their mouths, JC finds out what chocolate-chip-butter-pecan would taste like. Although he doubts even Ben and Jerry could make something quite this delicious.