Mirror, Mirror

by Karen and LB
© 2002

This one came from a discussion of two pictures. The first of is Lance doing the "Baby, come on" crotch grab from Bye Bye Bye. We had long commented on the, well, delicacy with which Lance, er, grabs.

Then one day, this picture of JC dropped. Same technique. So we started talking about how JC must have taught Lance and the rest is....Mirror, Mirror.

Disclaimer: Not as far as we know.

"Nah, like this."

"Gross, Justin."

"You're no better, Joey."

"At least I have something to grab."

"Your 'something' has been grabbed so many times it's eroded."

"At least mine hasn't shriveled up from underuse."

"Just from overuse."

"You wish. You just got your pubes."

"Did not!"

"You don't have pubes? That explains a lot."

"At least mine aren't GREY, dude."

"They're not grey--they're experienced."

"Yeah, right. So who IS gonna show Lance how to do this?"

"Wait a sec, guys, I KNOW how to do it. I mean, I kind of know." <blush>

After everyone has a good laugh: "Seriously, who's gonna teach Lance?"

"That's it. You wanna see grab? I'll show you grab! Grab THIS!"

<collective sigh> "Guys, someone's gotta show Lance . . . "

"That's it. I'm leaving. You can all grab yourselves for all I care."

"Aw, C'mon Lance. We were only teasing."

"Forget it. I'll never get it right anyway."

JC steps in. "Of course you will. No one works harder than you, Lance."

"I try. But this . . . this is really HARD."

"That's kind of the point, Lance."

"Um . . . it is? Because this is really embarrassing."

"It doesn't have to be. C'mon." JC leads Lance into another, smaller rehearsal room. He has Lance stand facing the mirrored wall and starts the music. He returns to Lance and stands behind him. Then, hands on Lance's waist, he takes him through the steps. 

"Okay, this time we add the hands." JC goes over and re-cues the music and they run through it again, this time with JC's hands over Lance's. JC is much closer this time, his breath warm on Lance's neck, and when he presses Lance's hand to his crotch it's almost as if JC himself were fondling him. 

Lance suddenly feels very hot. It's not as if JC has never shown him dance steps before; they've rehearsed together plenty of times. It's that with JC pressed so close against him and holding his hand against his crotch, Lance can't help but feel aroused. This makes him even more embarrassed than the dance step alone has, and he tries to pull away. "Maybe we should just . . . " 

JC doesn't let him go. "Come on, Lance. You're getting it. One more time." 

"JC, please don't make me do this. I-I can't. I just can't." 

JC drops his hands and steps back. His voice is tight, carefully controlled. "Fine, Lance. I was only trying to help. But I'm not going to force you to do something you don't want to do." 

"Wait, JC, don't go." There's more than a trace of panic in his voice. "I just feel so stupid. I need . . . help. Please, help me?" 

"Lance, you're not stupid. You're having trouble with a step. Big deal. We all do sometimes. I know you think this all comes naturally to me, but it doesn't. When I screw up, I screw up BIG. I thought Darren was gonna KILL me yesterday when I kept turning the wrong way. 

"Now, let's try it from the top of the verse. You do it yourself this time, and I'll watch, okay?"

Alone? JC wants him to do this alone? Somehow, he feels more self-conscious than ever with JC's eyes on him. "JC, I--" but he stops before he can finish when he sees JC's eyes glaring at him in the mirror. Okay, I can do this. Just pretend no one's watching. And think of JC's hand doing this to you. JC cues the music, Lance focuses his eyes on JC's, slides his hand down his body, and thrusts. 

JC can feel Lance's eyes on him, waiting for a response. He's speechless, but he knows he has to say something or risk damaging Lance's shaky confidence. "Um, Lance? Whatever you just did? Always do it that way."

"And whatever you THOUGHT," he muses, "to put that expression in your eyes . . . whoever she is, Lance, she's a lucky girl." Mortified, JC realizes that he had spoken aloud. 

Lance's face heats up and he can see in the mirror that his cheeks are flushed. He also notices that his fingers are still holding his crotch, albeit gingerly. He looks down and mumbles, "It's not a girl." 

It's JC's turn to blush. "Oh, I um, sorry, I um, didn't . . . sorry. Oh." 

Lance feels the need to run from this room as fast as he can. He regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. "No, it's okay, I . . . I should go now. Thanks for the help." 

"Lance, wait. You think I'm all freaked out now, don't you? Well, I'm not. A little surprised, maybe. But not freaked." 

Lance still can't look at him. "You're not? Look, forget I ever said anything. He puts his head against the door. "And please don't say anything to the other guys." 

JC walks over and puts a gentle hand on the arm reaching for the doorknob. "Lance, of course I'm not going to say anything. That's yours to tell, or not--whichever you need. You can trust me. And-- and you can talk to me, if you ever want someone to talk to. I've, um, sort of, um, dealt with some of the same stuff." 

Lance's arm tingles where JC's hand is touching it. Without turning around, he asks, "You have?" 

"Yeah. And I haven't told anyone else, either, so, you know . . . " 

Lance's head snaps up. "What? Told anyone about what? JC, are you . . . are you . . . ?" but he can't say it because he hasn't even admitted it to himself. 

"Yeah, I'm gay, Lance." Lance lets out the breath he'd been holding and turns around. The close proximity to his friend makes him hot again, so he steps away from the door. "But what about Bobbie? I don't understand. How can you be gay?" 

"Bobbie is--was--me trying to prove to myself that I was straight." 

"When did you realize you weren't?" 

"I think I always knew. I just wasn't too good at admitting it. I guess I'm still not." 

"I think you're very brave. It took a lot of guts to say that, J. I mean that. I know I couldn't. I mean, can't." 

"You will. When you're ready." 

"So, you know. About me." 

"Well, you said it wasn't a girl that you were thinking about. And you asked me not to tell the guys. That's all. But I suppose I shouldn't jump to conclusions." 

"What if I said you're not jumping? What if I said you're dead right?"

"Am I? Lance, come on. Let's go sit down. We don't need to discuss this in the doorway." JC leads Lance to the old, lumpy couch in the corner and they sit. JC remembers what it was like for him, figuring this stuff out. And he'd had no one to talk to. Maybe he could spare Lance that. "How long have you known, Lance?" 

The question almost makes him smile. It was so direct, so to the point. He stares at his hands. "I guess . . . for a while now. I mean, I like girls, I do. But now . . . " 

"So it's recent? For me it was like something I felt all my life, but didn't put a name to it till a couple of years ago." 

"No, I mean, I guess I have been . . . I just . . . I couldn't . . . I mean, where I grew up you just didn't talk about stuff like this. But when I joined this group . . . I don't know, I just felt . . . different. I don't even know what I'm saying." 

"You don't have to, Lance. This isn't a test or anything. I just--I dealt with all this without anyone to talk to. I don't want you to, okay?" 

"Thanks, JC. I guess I never would have guessed--I mean, you hide it pretty well. I don't think the other guys know. I know I didn't." 

"I'm just not ready, you know?" 

"Yeah. I know. Believe me, I know. I can't believe I'm even telling you." 

"You know you can trust me, right?" 

"Yeah, I guess. But JC, remember when I said it wasn't a girl I was thinking about?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I wasn't thinking about a girl cause . . . Iwasthinkingaboutyou." 

"Y-y-you what?" 

"Oh shit, I knew I shouldn't have said anything. Forget I ever said that, C, I'm sorry I'm gonna go now. Shit." 

"Sit down, Lance. You've really got to stop trying to leave the room every time you say something interesting." 

"That wasn't interesting. That was humiliating." 

"It would only be humiliating if my response were 'Sorry, Lance, but I'm not attracted to you at all.' But it isn't. So sit down and talk to me." 

"Just forget what I said because that was really stupid of me and I shouldn't have put you on that spot like that. This whole thing is just . . . so confusing." 

"But I don't want to forget what you said. Unless you didn't mean it. So? Did you mean it, Lance, or are you just playing me?" 

"No! I mean, no, I'm not playing you. But C, I've never liked a guy before. What you're asking me to say . . . I've never admitted to anyone." 

"You already said it, Lance." 

"Yeah, well, I shouldn't have." 

"So, what, you're taking it back? You tell me you think about me, you get me to admit that I think about you, then, what? 'Oh, I was just kidding'?" 

"Gosh, no, JC. Why are you doing this? Why are you making me talk about this? Wait . . . do you? Do you think about me?" 

"Well, I'm not sure if I want to admit it if you're just gonna throw it back in my face." 

"You think I would do that to you, C? In all the time I've known you have I ever done anything like that?" 

"You kinda just did, Lance. Look, let's try this again. You're attracted to me, I'm attracted to you. Is that about right so far?" 

"You're . . . attracted to me?" 

"You gonna make me keep saying it, Lance?" 

"Josh, why haven't you ever said anything before?"

"I couldn't. Not when I thought you were straight."

"But you can say it now. Now that you know . . . I'm, you know."

"Say it, Lance. Even if you don't say it to anyone else for a really long time, you'll feel better for having said it out loud at least once."

"I-I can't, Josh! I can't say it! It goes against everything I've ever been taught!"

"I know, Lance. I felt the same way. I won't push you. But it's part of who you are. And refusing to say the word isn't gonna change that."

"You want me to say it? I'll say it! I'll say it! I'm GAY! I'm GAY! Are you happy now, Josh? ARE YOU HAPPY?"

JC reaches out and touches Lance's arm soothingly. "Lance, this isn't about me right now. Tell me honestly, don't you feel a little bit better for having said it? Just this once?"

Lance crumples on the couch, shoulders hunched. He still feels angry, but he also feels a sense of . . . relief? "Yeah. No. Heck, I don't know. Yeah, I guess I do." He covers his face with his hands. "What am I gonna do, C?"

JC rubs Lance's shoulders soothingly. "Do? What do you mean, Lance?"

"I can't be gay, JC. What will my parents say? What will the guys say? I can't hide this forever." 

"No, probably not forever, but you don't have to tell anyone till you're ready. And whatever else might happen, Lance, I'm your friend. You're not alone." 

Lance takes his hands away from his face and slumps over his knees. "You know, I wouldn't have said anything at all if it hadn't been for that darned dance step."

"Are you really, REALLY sorry that I know, Lance?"

There's a long pause, then a very quiet, "No."

"Good." JC touches Lance's shoulders again, letting his hand slide up and down the slumped back in a comforting way. 

The touch is electric and Lance shudders as the soothing hand rubs his back so tenderly. Before, if JC touched him like this he took it as one friend touching another. JC is still his friend, but now, after confessing his secret, Lance feels so much more. "JC . . . " 

"Yeah?" JC's hand continues moving up and down Lance's back, part comfort, part caress. Lance swallows, fear spreading through his nerve endings. "What I said before. About not thinking of a girl when I . . . when I said I was thinking of you . . . that's not the first time." 

"Lance," JC whispers, almost afraid to speak. He's had a crush on his bandmate for a long time, but thinking that Lance was straight, he'd never allowed himself to think of anything developing. Now that the possibility is there, he's nervous. 

Lance looks up for the first time since the conversation started. He looks over at JC. "I'm sorry. This must be making you pretty uncomfortable." 

"That's not it. It's just . . . " JC doesn't know how to say what he's been thinking. He guesses he just needs to say it. "I-I've thought about you, too, Lance. A lot. But I always thought it was impossible. And it's kind of scary that now it may not be. Does that make any sense?" 

Lance stares at his hands, unable to look at his friend's beautiful blue eyes. Beautiful--Lance can't believe he's having these thoughts about his bandmate, his friend, his brother. "It makes perfect sense. Because it terrifies me that I have these thoughts about you. I--you think about ME?" 

"All the time, Lance. It practically killed me, showing you that dance step today. But no one else was gonna do it, you know? They were too busy giving you a hard time. So I couldn't just leave you hanging, you know? But it wasn't easy." 

"You always step in, Josh. When everyone else teases me or gives me a hard time about anything, you're always there defending me. I want you to know how much I appreciate that. It . . . means a lot to me. I know they're just kidding, but still. Especially with that move." Now he does turn his head so he can see JC's face. "But JC, when you put your hand . . . when you were standing . . . " Lance brings his fingers to his mouth and starts chewing his nails. 

JC gently pulls Lance's hand away from his mouth. "You don't want to do that, Lance. You know how hard you worked to quit." This finally draws a smile from Lance. He never realized it before, but JC knows him so well. 

"Now what were you saying? About when I showed you the step?"

Lance rubs his hands nervously on his thighs, needing something do with his hands. "I, um, I . . . when you . . . when I touched . . . oh shit." He rises, crosses to the other side of the room, and scratches his head. "I like it when you touch me." 

"Then what are you doing way over there?" Lance freezes. "I don't know." He takes a tentative step forward, but his feet seem welded to the floor. 

JC rises and walks over to Lance. He reaches with one hand to cradle Lance's cheek. "Lance," he says softly. "I don't want to push you, I don't want to rush you. But I would very much like to kiss you. If that's okay." 

"I-I've never kissed a guy before." He begins to back up until he hits the wall, JC matching him step for step. He's terrified, but his eyes are full of hope. 

"No time like the present," JC whispers, and very gently presses his lips to Lance's. He continues to kiss Lance, small, light, nondemanding kisses, until he feels Lance respond, then he pulls back to look into Lance's eyes. 

"Wow," is the only word that comes to Lance’s mind. His cheeks are flushed and he feels a heat rising that he's never felt with any girl. He licks his lips, wanting to confirm what just happened. "Do it again. Please?" 

JC grins. "Well, since you asked so nicely . . . " This time, JC takes Lance's face in both his hands, leaning in to claim those lips again. The kisses are a little hungrier, a little less gentle, but still tender. 

JC's lips are moist and warm against Lance's and before he knows what he's doing he kisses back. His hands, which were momentarily clenched into fists at his sides, begin to rise as if on their own to JC's chest and up to his neck. I'm kissing JC Chasez, Lance thinks. Oh my gosh, I'm kissing JC Chasez. His mind screams, STOP! This is a SIN! but his body screams, Oh YES! Suddenly, the hands which had begun touching his friend push him away, and Lance retreats away from the wall which has been holding him up. "No, oh my gosh," he blurts out, "this is so wrong, we shouldn't be doing this. What am I doing?" His hand nervously fingers his hair as he begins pacing. 

JC, never caught off guard, always graceful, stumbles awkwardly now, first back when Lance pushes him, then forward, into the wall as he tries to catch his balance. He leans his forehead against the cool glass for a moment, trying to compose himself. How, he wonders, can things go from so good to so bad, this quickly? One moment there's this hot, sweet presence in his arms--someone he's wanted for so long and had been sure he could never have. And the next moment, this very same someone is pushing him away, telling him how wrong this is--how wrong HE is. JC finally turns to face the pacing figure. He leans against the wall, catlike, all his grace restored. To a casual onlooker he would look relaxed, sensual, even. Unless that onlooker caught a glimpse the pain and confusion in his eyes. 

Lance can still feel the sensation of JC's lips on his own as he tries to work out in his head what just happened. He never had a kiss like that before. It felt . . . electric. He's afraid to even look at JC, afraid of what that will stir in him, but he does, finally, realizing what he just did to his older friend. JC stands there, his back against the mirrored wall, cool, calm, and collected, as he always is, even under stressful situations. He's always been laid back, but now Lance is afraid JC will just shrug the whole thing off. "I'm so sorry, JC, I didn't mean to . . . I don't want you to think I didn't like it. Heaven help me, I did. But . . . you're my BANDMATE for goodness' sake! I can't be kissing my bandmate!" 

"You just did, Lance," JC says quietly, reasonably. "And if I'm any judge, you liked it, too. Right until you shoved me away like I was attacking you or something." 

For the first time, Lance sees the hurt in JC's eyes. HURT. He's hurt that I pushed him away. And if he's hurt that must mean it _meant_ something to him. More than just some experimental kiss between friends. Lance is more confused than ever. Hurting JC is the last thing he wants to do--what he really wants to do, he can't even think about. Because to think about it is to admit that he wants it, LIKES it, and he's still trying to deal with the fact that it's WRONG. Wait, why is it wrong? Why is kissing someone you like so wrong, whether that person is a guy or a girl? His parents, and his church even, have always taught him to treat ALL people with kindness and respect, regardless of race, gender, or . . . or . . . c'mon, Lance, say it--sexual orientation. He doesn't even realize he's mumbled these last words. "You're right, JC, I did like it. I DO like it." He falls back to the couch again, and starts picking lint off his orange sweat pants. "The thing is . . . I like . . . YOU. This is not just about kissing a guy, this is about kissing YOU." 

"Well, if it's about kissing me, it should be about treating me like a person, too, Lance. Not some toy that you discard when you're tired of playing with it." JC presses his hands against the mirror, pushing himself upright and away, a move that makes the muscles of his chest and arms ripple against the tight fabric of his t-shirt. For all his seeming nonchalance, he leaves nervous hand prints on the mirror. He walks over to stand in front of Lance, not trusting himself yet to sit next to him. He gazes down at Lance for a long moment before finally saying, softly, "I like you, too. Lance. I've liked you for a long time. I liked you when I was sure it wasn't possible that you could like me back. I know you're scared, but believe me, so am I." 

Lance turns his pale, green eyes upward to the towering figure of one of his best friends. He's beautiful, Lance thinks. "I'm sorry I shoved you. I didn't mean to do that. I was just so scared. I've never kissed a guy before and when you did it and I LIKED it . . . I just didn't know how to react. You're always so together, so cool about everything. I guess I never thought you would like me back. Not in THAT way, at least." 

"Well now you know. We both know." JC sits, not too close but close enough to touch if either of them chooses. "What we don't know is what we're gonna do about it. I've always believed that the person I'm gonna be with should be my best friend first. We've got that, Lance. Don't you think that's a start?" 

"Yeah, I do, C. You know I'm your friend." Lance is relieved that JC decided to sit. He wants to be able to look him in the eye. And he wants to know that JC isn't mad. "As for what we do now . . . JC, do you think we're going to go to hell?" 

"No, Lance, I don't. I really don't. Why would God make us like this if it's so wrong?" 

"I don't know. That's what I can't figure out. I think I'm a pretty good person. And I KNOW you're a good person. But the bible says that we're not supposed to be doing this. Why would it say that if it's okay to be . . . gay?" He still has trouble saying it, still feels like he's going to choke, because now that word applies to HIM. 

"I read a book once, where the author said that what the Bible was really talking about was not like gay relationships, but other kinds of sex. Like raping conquered people to show supremacy. Or just sex for sex's sake. Orgies." He grins when Lance's eyes widen. "That kind of thing. And that made sense to me. Cause the Bible also say that the greatest gift is love. So how can loving someone be wrong?" JC lets the words hang there, not sure if he will have terrified Lance by bringing the l-word into the conversation. 

JC makes so much sense. How does he do that? How can he make something so wrong seem so right? And that makes Lance smile and shake his head, because it sounds like a line from a cheesy love song. Lance is glad HE'S not writing songs for the group or they'd all end up sounding like Barry Manilow. Then his brow furrows as he tries to understand what JC is saying. The bible does talk about love, about loving your fellow men. "I just . . . feel so guilty feeling this way, you know? And that makes me mad because I shouldn't have to feel guilty about liking someone. About liking you. It's not fair, C." 

"No, it's not. But do you think . . . " JC looks hopefully into Lance's eyes. " . . . is it worth it to you to try to get beyond that? Lance?" 

A lump forms in Lance's throat, and he wills it away. Timidly, he reaches for JC's hand and touches it with his fingertips. JC makes it all seem so right, so good. And the thought of being more than just friends with JC--Lance can't even count the number of times he's watched him, wanting to be closer to him, wanting to tell him how he feels. "Yeah, C, it is. I want to." 

JC is uncharacteristically still for a long moment, looking down at Lance's fingers touching his hand. He turns his hand palm up and intertwines their fingers and finally looks up, giving Lance a huge, almost dazzling smile. Not his professional stage dazzle, though, but something truly genuine. And very, very happy. 

JC's smile is contagious. When he sees that lightening hasn't struck, that the floor hasn't caved in and swallowed them both, Lance smiles back. He feels such a warmth spread through him that he's never felt before. Lance moves a little closer. "Um, JC?" 

"Yeah, Lance?" Lance moves closer, so that his thigh is pressed against JC's. "Can we," he leans in just a little bit, "try that . . . oh heck," and before JC can react he presses his lips against his friend's. 

It's a good thing JC's sitting down, because he sure didn't expect this. Lance's kisses are still pretty chaste, but they are SO hot. JC snakes one arm around Lance's waist, and the other caresses his hair. How Lance can go from talking about hell and damnation one minute to sweet, hot kisses the next is beyond JC. Not that he's complaining. He pulls Lance's lower lip between his own and worries it gently with his teeth, something he's wanted to do every time he's watched Lance bite his own lip. 

Lance feels a bolt of electricity shoot through him as JC's hand comes around his waist. He shifts slightly, leaning in even more, and JC's mouth on his drives all evil thoughts from his mind. How can something so good, so DELICIOUS, be evil? Small moans of delight rumble in his throat, and he's reluctant to pull away, but he does. When he speaks, his voice cracks. "Wow, JC. Wow. That was . . . WOW. I always wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Wow." 

JC grins. "Yeah, wow about sums it up." He pulls Lance to him again, pressing him close. When their lips meet this time, he ventures out with his tongue, tracing the shape of Lance's lips, letting Lance get used to the sensation. The hand in Lance's hair slides downward, following the line of his throat and lightly playing over his collarbone within his shirt. JC's tongue tickles Lance's lips, and he smiles into the kiss. 

It's a knee-jerk reaction, and Lance isn't even in control of it; when he feels JC's fingers on his skin he flinches. He'd never been touched that way by a guy and this is the first time he's been touched that way by his FRIEND. 

JC immediately withdraws his fingers. "Sorry," he whispers against Lance's mouth. He moves his hand back up into Lance's hair, this time brushing it back from his forehead, another thing he's longed to do and never could. 

Lance knows he has to relax. It's not like JC is trying to rape him. It's a kiss. And a touch. And there's nothing wrong with that, Lance, he tells himself. He concentrates, instead, on the soft lips pressed against his. And soon he finds himself touching those lips with his tongue, just brushing against them, and then parting them and slipping his tongue inside. 

Lance keeps surprising JC. Flinching at an innocent touch one moment, pushing his tongue into JC's mouth the next. But he just wouldn't be Lance if he weren't this bundle of contradictions. And that's the Lance that JC is falling in love with. Wow. That's the first time he's let himself think that, and at the thought he unconsciously hugs Lance more tightly to him. He meets Lance's tongue with his own, feeling a jolt of connection as they taste each other. 

This time, when JC pulls him closer, Lance doesn't flinch. He allows each touch, each moment their lips are locked, to advance him to the next level of . . . whatever this was. He can't believe how attractive JC is. He's always thought it, but never thought he could act on it. And it scares him, more than anything has. 

Lance doesn't know what to do with his hands; up until now he's kept them at his sides, pressed tightly into the seat cushion. But now he starts to slide one hand up to JC's waist and gingerly rests it there. 

JC feels Lance relaxing and responding in small ways. And small ways are fine with him. They've got all the time in the world. And when kisses are this hot, this delicious--well, JC could happily sit here on this lumpy old couch and do nothing more than kiss Lance for hours and hours. JC feels Lance's hand settle softly at his waist, and that tentative touch is more arousing than the most experienced, most assured touch could have been. This time, when JC again allows his hand to roam, this time caressing Lance's chest through his t-shirt, Lance doesn't flinch. 

Lance hears soft sounds coming from his mouth, and when JC's hand comes into contact with his chest his eyes grow wide. Instead of being afraid, he leans into the hand. He's amazed at how GOOD this feels, to be kissing someone he likes, really likes, even lo--NO! Don't go there. Because JC couldn't possibly love him. Not that way. Sure, he's not kissing him because he hates him, but love? That's too much for Lance to hope for. Admitting he's gay is one thing, finding out that JC wants to kiss him is another, and hoping for a relationship with this gorgeous, kind, caring boy? Forget it, Lance. But that doesn't stop him from wanting it. Oh, how he wants it. JC's kisses are like none he's ever had; his whole body feels so . . . alive. And he feels something else too. Something he doesn't want to think about but can't help thinking about with JC's hand on his chest. "JC," he whispers, coming up for air. "I don't want you to think I'm doing this as some sort of experiment." 

JC can't help smiling. Lance is so sweet, so concerned. He had always known what a nice guy he was, but in this moment of vulnerability, he's practically irresistible. JC feels a momentary flash of anger that this gentle, caring person actually had a moment's worry that he was going to hell for loving unconventionally. He pushes that though away, and focuses on the worried green eyes. "Lance, don't you think I know that? Don't you think I know who you are after all these years? You wouldn't try a new kind of toothpaste as an experiment. You certainly wouldn't mess with my heart as one." 

Now Lance knows why JC is so good at writing songs. He's good at putting his feelings into words, something that Lance was never very good at. He hid behind his manners, behind this veil of polite respect, but he was never able to come right out and tell someone how he really felt, not unless he knew them really well. Lance smiles at JC's analogy, but then his brow furrows as he once again gets serious. "No, I wouldn't. You're important to me JC. Not just as a friend." He suddenly feels the need to put some distance between them, because he doesn't think he can say what he wants to say with those sparkling blue eyes staring at him. He springs to his feet and brings his hand to his mouth, stopping just in time before chewing on his nails again, remembering JC's words. So he crosses to the table holding the CD player and fidgets with an empty jewel case. "Joey's my friend. Chris is my friend. Justin's my friend. But you . . . I mean, you're my friend too, but I don't feel about the others the way I feel about you." He drops the CD case on the table and throws his head back, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "I'm not making any sense." 

JC remains on the couch, letting Lance figure out what he wants to say. He says gently, and with a touch of humor in his voice, "No, you're not really making a lot of sense. But if you want to try again, I'm listening." 

Gosh, JC is so relaxed, Lance thinks, which makes him even more nervous. He faces JC and leans against the table, hands gripping it, and bounces his butt against the edge. He stares at his feet. "Remember when we were in Cancun for the MTV spring break thing? And we shared a room?" He doesn't wait for JC to answer. "Well, I really liked that. That we shared a room. And you know how in photo shoots sometimes you put your arm around me? I know it's just for the picture, but I like that too. And . . . when we're flying somewhere and you fall asleep--sometimes I just watch you. Oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm saying these things." He smiles, embarrassed and feeling like he's five years old. 

JC wants to go wrap his arms around Lance, but he senses it's the wrong moment. "Does it help any to know that I like those things, too? Lance, these are all normal things. When you lo-like someone, you want to be near them. And you do silly stuff like watch them sleep. And you think the weirdest things are cute--like you when you sneeze. That's just, that's how it is." 

Lance's head snaps up. He thought he heard . . . but no, it couldn't be. He's smiling though. "You think I'm cute when I sneeze? That IS weird." Then he looks at his feet again and starts to fidget. "It's normal when it's a guy and a girl, but when it's a guy and a guy? I mean, I WATCH you JC, the way a guy watches a girl." 

"You're still thinking in narrow categories. You watch me, Lance, and I watch you, like a person who likes another person does. That's all." 

"Yeah, but when I watch you I want to . . . I want to touch you. Shit, I sound like a stalker." 

JC shakes his head. This time he does get up and walk over to Lance, placing his hands lightly on the younger boy's shoulders. "Baby, it's not stalking when it's mutual." He grins. "Co-dependent, maybe, but not stalking." 

Lance laughs and shakes his head, still looking down, but when JC's hands touch his shoulder he raises his eyes. He looks to the right, at the strong, capable hand and then back up at JC's face. He's amazing, Lance thinks to himself. _So handsome and so kind. And so sexy. No, bad thought, Lance, bad thought. Shut up, he tells himself. This is what I want and it's not wrong. It can't be. It just can't be. "So," he says softly. "What do we do now?" 

"Do? Whatever you want. I'm in no hurry, Lance. I know we're gonna be together eventually, and that's enough for me. We can take this slow, if you want." 

JC's confidence rattles Lance. It really is like he can see right into his heart. Lance nods, suddenly feeling too weak to say anything. Being so close to JC makes the heat rise in him again. And being so close to JC knowing what he now knows makes him ache with desire. JC has opened a door for him, and all Lance has to do is step through. Burn in hell? Maybe. But right now Lance is willing to take the risk. He lifts his hands from the table and stands up straight, so he is nearly eye level with JC. He closes his eyes and leans forward, and with all the faith he can muster, touches his lips to JC's. 

JC's hands go instinctively to Lance's waist as Lance leans into him. His head is starting to spin with all of Lance's sudden changes of mood and direction, but it's a lovely, exciting spin. He deepens the kiss, his tongue darting into Lance's mouth, caressing Lance's own tongue, the roof of his mouth, his teeth, his lips. 

Lance moans as JC's tongue probes his mouth. As if on their own, his hands reach up to caress JC's face. He needs to know he's real, that this is real. He traces the soft skin around JC’s eyes and the curve of his cheekbones. He's never felt more exhilarated than he does at this moment. 

Lance's gentle touches move JC as much as his kisses arouse him. His thoughts of taking this slow flee, and his hands tug at Lance's waist, urging him down to the floor.

Lance allows himself to be lowered to the floor, and he kneels along with JC, not sure of what he's doing, but having made the decision to put himself in JC's care he's not going to back down now. JC maneuvers them all the way down to the floor. He places his hands on either side of Lance's head, looking intently down at the younger boy. "Anytime you want me to stop, Lance, I will. But until you give me the word, I'm just gonna try to make you feel SO good." 

Fear rises in Lance as he realizes the position he's in. He never thought he'd be laying underneath another guy's body, but here he is. Then he looks into JC's eyes--there's nothing predatory about them. He sees only concern, desire, and something else. Something Lance himself feels. He nods, and, with a hand at the back of JC's neck, pulls the older boy down to him. 

JC allows himself to be pulled, kissing Lance hungrily. He supports his weight on one hand, and the other cups Lance's face toward him. The hand slips from Lance's face, down his neck, and dips inside the shirt to touch the collarbone, as before. But this time, Lance doesn't flinch. JC's hand continues down over Lance's chest, pausing to rub one nipple through the thin fabric. His hand then seeks the hem of the garment, and slips under it, his cool fingers fanning out over the muscles of Lance's warm stomach. 

Lance takes a deep breath as JC's hand reaches under his shirt. JC's touch is light, and it tickles a bit while Lance gets used to the sensation. He tries not to squirm. His own hands wander around JC's back, rubbing the firm muscles. 

JC lets his lips drift over Lance's face till he finds one small ear. He traces the shape with his tongue, before taking the earlobe between his teeth and nibbling gently. In the meantime, his hand climbs upward beneath Lance's t-shirt, seeking and finding an already hard nipple, which he rolls gently between thumb and forefinger. "Mmmmmm, Lance," he breathes into the younger boy's ear, his breath hot on Lance's neck. 

Lance gasps and grips JC tightly. "Oh, Josh," he murmurs. With JC's weight on top of him, his crotch is grinding into JC's, and he can feel his groin tingling at the contact. He can't believe how good it feels to have JC touch him like that. 

JC raises himself up a bit. "I'm going to take this shirt off you, okay?" At Lance's slight nod, he lifts the younger boy's torso and strips the shirt off him. He lays him carefully back, asking "You okay? Is this floor too uncomfortable? Cause we can move." 

Lance is touched, but not surprised by JC's concern. JC has always been sensitive of others' needs. "No," he says smiling. "Actually, I feel pretty good right now." In truth, he's still a little scared, but something in JC's eyes is so reassuring that even with the loss of his shirt Lance doesn't feel as vulnerable as he thought he would. JC said they could stop at any time, but right now that's the furthest thing from Lance's mind. He lifts his hands to JC's biceps--he loves the feel of those tight muscles through his soft t- shirt. 

JC smiles back at Lance, and when their lips meet again, they're both still smiling. JC can't believe how giddy he feels. He's thought about how it would be with Lance, plenty of times. But the reality is so much better than the fantasy. Lance is just so damned . . . sweet. Weird word to use for a guy, but it's the one that keeps coming to him. 

He lets his hands drift over Lance's chest again as they kiss, learning the curves, the shape of the muscles, before capturing the nipple he had neglected before in his fingers. His mouth travels slowly over Lance's chin, down to his throat, leaving a trail of little kisses.  He sweeps his tongue along the curve of Lance's collarbone, noticing that Lance doesn't flinch as he did when JC used his fingers in the same way earlier. In fact, if the small sounds emanating from Lance's throat are any indication, Lance is enjoying this as much as he is. 

Before Lance is aware of what he's doing, his hand has traveled up JC's arm to his head, where he begins to run his fingers through the silky, dark brown strands. He sighs as JC's lips touch his skin, and when his tongue passes over his adam's apple Lance moans. As he feels his trust in JC grow, he finds his hands drifting lower, down JC's back again, and he finds himself lifting JC's shirt to touch the warm, smooth skin underneath. 

JC smiles against Lance's skin, pleased that Lance is becoming bolder, more responsive.  His mouth begins to move over Lance's chest, very slowly, kissing every bit of skin his lips can reach. When his mouth hovers over Lance's heart, he pauses for a long time, pressing his lips to the flesh, feeling the strong, rapid heartbeat pounding right through him. 

Lance throws his head back, as far as the floor will allow and closes his eyes. "Oh Josh," he moans, because he can't formulate any words, not with JC's lips against him. Never in his life did he think it would feel THIS good to be with someone you . . . care about. He still can't bring himself to admit what he's really feeling. Yes, JC is doing things to him that are driving him wild, but that doesn't mean he feels as strongly about Lance as Lance does about him. Lance thinks about all of the times he's fantasized about this moment but pushed those fantasies deep down. Now, he can make them a reality and it terrifies him. As JC moves along Lance's chest, Lance tries to pull JC's shirt off. He doesn't want JC to stop, but he wants to know what it would feel like to have JC's skin against his own. 

JC pauses just long enough to allow Lance to pull his shirt off, then he returns his attention to Lance's chest. He watches the rapid rising and falling for a moment, admiring the smooth, pale skin, the gently swelling muscles. He waits till he hears Lance say his name again--and it's such a turn-on to have Lance call him Josh--then he leans over and spirals his tongue around one waiting nipple. He moves very slowly, drawing it out as long possible, finally allowing his tongue to brush over the tight flesh. He blows on the wetness he has left, feeling Lance shudder in his arms, and only when he hears Lance moan does he take the nipple into his mouth. He suckles and caresses for a long time, his hand imitating his mouth on the other nipple, till he shifts and replaces that hand with his mouth. 

What is he doing to me? Lance thinks, his mind a blur. It was NEVER this way with Danielle. She would never do these things to him, and she certainly never made him feel this way. JC's tongue is hot against his nipple, and Lance finds himself grinding his hips into JC's thigh before he even realizes what he's doing. When JC pauses and lifts his head and shoulders slightly, Lance shyly brushes his fingertips against JC's chest, then pulls them away just as quickly. 

The barely-there touch makes JC shiver. He loves that Lance keeps making these tentative gestures, trying to overcome his shyness, but honestly, that isn't what this is about, right now. With every action, every kiss he tries to tell Lance without words that this isn't about something he, JC, wants Lance to do to him, but rather, about giving Lance pleasure. And he's never felt this with anyone before. Not that he's been a selfish or an inconsiderate lover, but his own pleasure has always been foremost in his mind. This time, it's secondary, and his pleasure arises from what he can give to Lance. 

As he continues to tease Lance's nipples, moving from one to the other in response to Lance's moans, JC brushes his hand over the hardness at Lance's groin, waiting for the inevitable flinch. When it doesn't happen, he gives a surer, firmer caress. 

Lance bites his lip when he JC presses his hand against the growing hardness at his crotch. This is how it all started, after all. He focuses his eyes on the ceiling, trying to bite back the cry of pleasure that threatens to escape his lips. He moves to put his hand over JC's, but stops himself. No, he tells himself, it's okay to let him do this. It's okay. There is nothing wrong with this. He wants to touch JC, to run his hands over the beautiful body on top of him, but he's unsure of what to do. JC is so giving; he's never had a lover so attentive to his needs before. Lance freezes. LOVER? Did he just think that? Is that what this is? Lance tries his best to push that thought away. He doesn't want to give himself false hope. But my gosh, JC is amazing--he doesn't want this to end. 

JC lets his lips travel lower, as his hand continues to massage Lance's erection through the soft fabric of his sweat pants. He draws his tongue over Lance's stomach, dipping into his navel, and is rewarded with a laugh from ticklish Lance. The laugh is amazing-- JC can FEEL it start in Lance's stomach long before he hears it. JC's tongue follows the line of hairs down to the elastic of Lance's sweat pants, then he runs his tongue under the waistband, from hipbone to hipbone. He stops for a moment, laying his head on Lance's stomach and just breathing him in. Then he sits up, and moving to Lance's feet, unties and removes his sneakers, then his socks. He reaches up, hooks his fingers under the waistband of Lance's sweat pants, and begins sliding them and his underwear off, lifting both garments carefully over the swelling protuberance. He pulls the garments over Lance's feet, then gazes down at him. If the amazing body weren't enough to quicken his pulse, the gorgeously flushed face would be. "You're so beautiful," he breathes. 

Everything happens so fast, Lance doesn't have time to react. One minute he's laying there, having the most gorgeous creature ever to walk the earth kiss him and touch and do things to him that set his whole body on fire, and the next he's letting the same person remove the rest of his clothing. As JC stares down at him, Lance can feel the heat rising in his cheeks and suddenly wants to cover himself. How can JC find him beautiful? Instead, he reaches a hand up to JC's face, needing to touch those lips. He brushes them lightly with his fingertips, rolls his eyes, and smiles. "I am not." 

"You don't think so? Come here." JC rises and extends a hand, pulling Lance up, and then leading him to the exact spot where this all started, on the dance floor in front of the mirror. He can see that Lance is looking everywhere BUT in the mirror. JC stands behind Lance and takes his head in both hands, tilting it up. "I want you to see what I see, Lance." He looks into the mirror himself, pleased at what he sees. Lance IS beautiful, but THEY are beautiful, as well. The blond hair and the dark; the angular, almost exotic features and the round, almost pretty ones; pale skin and tanned. He runs his hand through Lance's hair "I like looking at this, I like touching it and finding out it's softer than it looks. You can't see it, but this, here?" JC kisses the spot where Lance's hair meets his neck. "I LOVE this." He presses more kisses onto Lance's neck, sprinkling them also over his shoulders. "These," he says, rubbing a hand over Lance's upper arm. "You've been working out for about two weeks, and LOOK at you." He looks up and sees that Lance is watching them in the mirror in spite of himself. He slides his hand down to grasp Lance's. "And these. I can finally tell you how much I love to watch your hands, whatever they're doing.  How much I love to imagine what they'd feel like touching me." He brings his head back to lean his chin on Lance's shoulder, trying to meet his eyes. "And your eyes. Lance, when you do your 'look' in photo shoots, do you know how much I melt? How I wish you were looking at me that way? Look at me that way, now, baby, please?" JC feels the jolt go right through him when Lance meets his eyes in the mirror smolderingly. 

JC takes a deep breath before going on. He can't believe how arousing this is. He sweeps his hand over Lance's chest, before seeking one hard nipple. "So smooth, so perfect. And I can feel your heart." JC pauses, then reaches down in a perfect imitation of the dance move they had been working on earlier. "And this Lance, and this." He touches lightly, and when Lance thrusts into his hand, just as choreographed, he wraps his fingers around Lance's heat. With the other hand, he turns Lance's face to meet his, and as they kiss, he begins stroking Lance's erection with sure fingers.

JC feels Lance moan against his mouth, and he can't wait any longer. With his dancer's grace, he has moved in front of Lance and dropped to his knees. He kisses the tip of Lance's penis, then runs his tongue from the base back up to the tip. He looks up at Lance's face, flushed and surprised and needy, eyes shut. "Open your eyes, Lance," he growls. "I want you to see how beautiful you are. I want you to watch me loving you." 

This must be a dream, Lance thinks. This cannot possibly be happening. What JC made him do, what he tells him, is beyond reality. Lance did not want to look at himself--does not like looking at himself--in the mirror. It makes him terribly self-conscious, and even when people tell him he looks good he just doesn't feel comfortable. But when JC says it he is so sincere that Lance's heart melts. JC Chasez is telling him he's beautiful! JC, with his sculpted dancer's body and model's face. Lance gazes down at the face staring up at him. What he sees stuns him. JC looks at him with such adoration Lance thinks he's going to sink to his knees. But JC's hands on his hips hold him steady. Finally, he raises his eyes to the mirror. His jade eyes greet him and his face is flushed with the fever of someone in the heat of passion. But he doesn't want to watch himself; he wants to see JC. JC with the kind, sexy eyes and the full, kissable lips. Lance cradles his head gently as JC brings his mouth to his waiting erection. "Josh, please," he begs. "I . . . I don't deserve this." 

"You deserve the best, Lance, but you'll just have to settle for me." JC surrounds Lance's hardness with the warmth of his mouth, sliding his hands around Lance to clasp his round, firm buttocks-- another thing that JC loves to look at that he neglected to mention. Relaxing his throat--vocal training comes in so handy sometimes-- he takes Lance into his mouth as far as he can, then pulls back, swirling his tongue around the tip before plunging down again. One hand comes around to cup and cuddle Lance's balls as he continues to engulf his erection with heat. JC feels when Lance's legs start to shake, he feels when the touch on his head becomes not a caress but a grip. He knows when Lance's knees start to get weak. He pulls back long enough to whisper "Let me hold you. I won't let you fall," and then his mouth is teasing and caressing Lance's aching hardness once more. 

Lance shuts his eyes tightly--he wants to scream, but he knows these room aren't soundproof. If only JC knew what he was doing to him. "Josh, I . . . oh my gosh . . . Josh . . . ," he pants. He lowers his head--he wants to see JC's face, JC's magnificent face. Lance can feel the heat of JC's mouth on his throbbing erection, the wetness of his tongue. He can't believe he's inside the place that creates the most beautiful sounds. That thought alone sends him over the edge, because when Lance hears JC sing he feels as though his legs will give out and his heart will melt right through his chest. He tries to thrust gently, but JC's touch is driving him over the edge, and this time he does cry out as he releases his orgasm. "Josh," he sighs. 

JC holds Lance steady as Lance spasms into his mouth. He waits until Lance is done, then releases his softening member. JC sits back on his heels, pulling Lance down with him until Lance is sitting on his thighs, straddling him. He enfolds the younger boy in his arms, cradling him tenderly until he stops trembling. 

"JC, I . . .you . . . WOW!" he hugs the older boy tightly, afraid that if he lets go JC will suddenly disappear. "That was . . . incredible." Then he does pull back, so he can see his lover's face. Yes, his lover. Maybe not now, but he will be soon. "YOU are incredible. You make me feel so . . . I don't even know. So RIGHT. What you just did . . ., " he blushes and looks down, but looks up quickly because looking down means seeing his nakedness and he'd much rather look at JC naked, but that will have to wait. At least until he has his say. Then he kisses JC. Not desperately, not full of fear, but tenderly and full of love. "You don't know what you mean to me, JC Chasez. Do you know how many girls would KILL to be in my shoes right now?" He blushes again, as he realizes he's not wearing even that much. 

JC grins at Lance. He loves it when he blushes. "You want your shoes, babe?" He pretends to struggle to rise and retrieve the errant footwear, but he really just gathers Lance closer. He draws him into another deep kiss, letting Lance taste himself on JC's lips and tongue. 

"You're not going anywhere," Lance growls, when they finally part. He strokes JC's back and his lowers his eyelids slightly. "Remind me to thank Darren for teaching us that move." 

"You keep looking at me like that and neither of us is ever gonna leave this room. Ever." JC stares back at Lance for a long moment, speechless at what he's seeing in those amazing jade eyes. Then he's kissing Lance as if Lance were food and water and oxygen and survival. 

Lance falls backward on the floor, pulling JC on top of him. He lands with a resounding "Ooomf" and laughs into JC's mouth. "We keep this up, and we're going to need to have Johnny take out an extra insurance policy." 

JC laughs. "It would be worth it just to see his face as we try to explain the liability of making love in a dance studio." JC strokes Lance's even messier than usual hair back from his face. Lance's face grows serious. "Is that what we're doing?" 

"What do you think?" 

Lance touches his fingers to JC's face. He loves touching his face. He loves that he has the freedom to touch his face. That he can touch JC and no one is stopping him. "I am if you are?" He smiles, but realizing that this is not a time to joke, looks away, but then he sees the image in the mirror--Lance completely naked with JC on top of him. He can't move with JC on top of him, and he can't look in the mirror, so he shifts his eyes back to the sensitive, wonderful boy whose body is pressed against him in such a way that he doesn't think he can be naked for much longer without doing something about it. He swallows and opens his mouth to speak, but finds that the words get caught in his throat. 

"Lance. Baby, don't cry." 

"I . . . I didn't plan this, you know that . . . I didn't know this would happen and I don't want to put pressure on you because we both know how bad that can be in a relationship . . . shit. Shit shit shit." He turns his head, facing away from the mirror. He didn't even know he was going to cry but once he starts speaking the tears just come. He's not a big crier to begin with, but somehow, with the confession and then JC being so . . . JC . . . and now this, it all just starts pouring forth like a drain that's finally been unclogged. 

JC sits up and leaning against the wall, gathers Lance up into his lap, into his arms. Lance buries his face against his shoulder, and JC just keeps rubbing his back in soothing circles, murmuring, "It's okay, Lance. You're not putting pressure on me. I want this, too. I WANT this.  Shhhh. Shhhhhh." Lance starts to laugh, feeling more than a little ridiculous sitting here on the floor, naked, being comforted by the guy who just gave him his first male blow job. "I'm sorry, I'm such a wreck." He wipes his face with the back of his hand and sniffles. "But C, this is important. What just happened, and where we go from here, it could change everything. It already has. I mean, look at us." 

"Believe me, I've been looking." JC brushes a stray tear from Lance's face. "Yeah, this changes a lot of things. But do you really think we have a choice? I mean, we have these feelings . . . " 

"Yeah, we do." Lance, suddenly feeling the need to level the playing field, rises from JC's arms to retrieve his pants. He doesn't want to have this conversation in a brightly lit room wearing nothing. He sits back down on the floor, knees up, facing JC. "I mean, it's pretty obvious. I hope. Like I said, this isn't some experiment for me, and I take it from what we just did--what YOU just did," and here Lance blushes again and smiles at the memory, "that it wasn't some trivial thing for you either. But JC, we've been friends for a long time. If we take this step, we can't just go back to being friends. I can't go back." 

"Neither can I." JC reaches for Lance's hand, entwining their fingers. "It's a risk. But some risks are just worth taking." 

Lance stares at the hands. Such a simple gesture, like everything about JC. He just makes it all so easy. "Yeah, I think it is." Lance rubs JC's hand with his thumb. He tugs gently on it, drawing JC closer. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly leans in, bringing his lips once again to JC's. 

Relief pours over JC. He had really been afraid for a minute there that in spite of what he was sure was genuine emotion, Lance was going to talk himself into walking away from this. He leans into the kiss, caressing Lance's cheek with his free hand.

Lance puts his hand at the back of JC's neck and pulls him closer. Now that they've talked, Lance feels this newfound sense of freedom. And the sense that this is just the beginning. He runs his tongue over JC's lips, tasting his own salty essence on JC's moist mouth. Soon, his tongue is inside JC's mouth, exploring every crevice. 

JC's hand leaves Lance's face, sliding around to his back and running up and down his spine. His tongue meets Lance's and they duel and entwine, and still he clasps that one hand, that lifeline, that connected them once again.

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