Missing Pieces
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Okay, Lance admits to himself; he was a little distracted this afternoon. Well, a lot. And maybe it wasn't fair to the fans who came to see him, Joey, and Em at Macy's but he's had a lot on his mind these days. His mother worries that he's pushing himself too much, but he really wants this movie to be a success--not just for himself but for all the people who worked so hard on it. And, of course, there were the phone calls. First, Justin, saying he wouldn't be able to make it because he had to be with Britney as she promotes her tour. Understandable, but this is his first movie and Lance really wanted his best friends there. But hey, okay, if Lance had a girl-- well, boyfriend who was going on tour, he'd want to be there too. But JC is here, with him, to support the movie.
Then Chris canceled at the last minute. Lance doesn't even want to think about that one. He's got too many other things to deal with: what he's going to say to the press about Laura, the post-party at Planet Hollywood, the rest of the interviews this week. But first, tonight. His mom and dad are already in the lobby, waiting for him. Laura's in the next room getting ready. JC is with Beth, as planned. Everything in place. Except for the missing pieces.
JC wishes he could help. Really help. Not just "you help just by being here, darlin' " help. Because JC's been there every minute he can, and it still hasn't taken the haunted, hunted look out of Lance's eyes. And right now, he's more in staying-out-of-Lance's-way mode, which is even more frustrating.
In the lobby, Lance makes chitchat with his family and Wendy while they wait for Laura. In his mind, he goes over the things he's rehearsed for PR purposes; since Entertainment Tonight is going to cover the limo ride over through the premiere, he's got to be nothing but professional from this point on. He just hopes no one asks about Justin or Chris. Finally, Laura strides through the lobby, apologizing for taking so long. Lance smiles and takes her hand--she really is a good friend, not just for agreeing to play this part in his life but because she understands him in ways others don't.
Except for JC. So far, JC has kept a respectable distance, allowing Lance to do what he needs to do for this night, but always present nonetheless. Always in view, in earshot, waiting for Lance to need him.
The ride to the theater is uneventful. Lance knows that ET will want to make more of his relationship with Laura than even Laura wants, but she's being so gracious about it. When they pull up in front of the Ziegfeld, photographers line the sidewalk in a designated area as well as a few scattered fans from TRL. They cheer when Lance exits the car; he's told Dave Foley and James are already here, and Em rode in the car with Joey and his family. JC is up ahead, already being led through the crowd to the not-so-red carpet.
JC is trying to keep a relatively low profile tonight. This is Lance's night. Lance's and Joey's.
And then he's surrounded. It's noisy, so he tries to concentrate on each reporter's question. When the inevitable is asked, Lance is ready. He takes Laura's hand and introduces her as his girlfriend. The words come a little stiffly, but he smiles as he says it, and there is genuine warmth in his voice. She is, after all, a girl and she is a friend. A good friend.
He's puzzled, though, by the crowd. He thought there would be more people. They've had contests on MTV, on the radio, everywhere they could think of, so where were all the people? He's hit with a stab of disappointment, but it passes quickly. Maybe someone forgot to mention the time of the premiere. Maybe . . . Lance catches a glimpse of a small group of people far back from the barricade, next to the theater. Why are they back there? Why didn't they go in? Don't they have tickets? Don't they want to see the movie?
He's ushered over to the photographers before he can dwell on it more. He poses with Laura and by himself, and then he's led inside the theater, where more reporters wait.
JC goes where he's told, up the escalator to the lobby, struggling with mixed emotions. He's proud of Lance, that's for sure. He's, well, frustrated about the whole Laura thing. They've finally gotten Bobbie out of their lives and now this. They'd discussed what was going to happen tonight, but it was still unexpectedly painful to see and hear. JC has a new understanding of how things must have been for Lance when he was "officially" with Bobbie.
Lance needs to pee. Badly. He hadn't realized it until he got inside. Maybe it's nerves. He knows he doesn't have anything to worry about-- his mother told him that like a thousand times. Even so, he's like a nervous dog right now. When he emerges from the restroom, Lonnie in tow, he gives a few more sound bytes and heads inside the dimly lit theater. It's huge. It's probably the largest movie theater he's ever seen. He's been here before, but this time it's different. This time, it's HIS image that's going to be projected on that massive screen. When he gets to his row, he sees the aisle seat has been saved for him, but he switches places so he can sit next to JC. When the audience sees his movie for the first time, Lance wants to be next his boyfriend.
JC leans over to whisper, "They're going to love it."
Lance grins shyly, afraid to look over his shoulder at the screaming throngs behind him. "You really think so?"
"I have a, like, psychic premonition."
"Did you eat Chinese food today?"
"I haven't eaten at all. You wanna sneak out?"
"I wish. My mom would kill me. Eric would kill me." As though his director could hear him, Eric steps up to the front of the theater and introduces the movie to much screaming and applauding. And then the lights go down and the screen flickers and Lance watches and listens.
JC could never get tired of watching Lance. Even a Lance who isn't quite Lance. Watching Lance play the romantic lead reminds JC uncomfortably of the role Lance is playing with Laura tonight, but otherwise, he thoroughly enjoys the movie.
"Let's go," Lonnie whispers, near the end of the movie. Lance is relieved. He doesn't want to see if anyone walked out. He doesn't want to hear the laughs and snide remarks. So he and JC duck out before the credits roll and head to Planet Hollywood for more press.
"So? How did you feel about it?" What JC feels is a little confused. All those people, screaming, standing on chairs, running up the aisle to take pictures. They WERE there to see the movie, weren't they?
"Okay, I guess. You think they liked it? I mean, really liked it and not just because me and Joey were in it?"
"I did. I mean that. It's a movie I would have liked even if you weren't in it."
"Gee, thanks." Lance grins. "It's a great script. I just hope I did it justice."
"You looked great up there."
"I looked like a dork. And I need a drink."
"You did not. And as soon as we get there."
Which is only a matter of minutes because Planet Hollywood is just a short drive away. Lance wants to head straight for the bar, but he and Joey are corralled into giving yet another interview.
JC retires to the bar, orders drinks for himself and for Lance and watches for his opportunity to slip the drink to Lance.
Pictures, mics, camera flashes, hugs--it's ceaseless and it's not long before Lance is ready to leave. He somehow manages to down the drink JC held for him, but it isn't enough. It still doesn't quiet the voices in his head reminding him that two of his best friends aren't here. "Let's get out of here," Lance suggests to the friend who DID come.
"Sure," JC says, wondering why Lance doesn't want to savor his success a bit longer.
They've all done things separately countless times before, but it just doesn't feel right being at this party without Chris and Justin here too. Lance says a quick goodnight to his family and Laura, then dashes out and into the waiting car before anyone can say anything.
JC follows a bit more slowly, climbing into the car next to Lance. He thinks about the many things he could say, the many things he could ask, but in the end, simply takes Lance's hand.
It's early, so Lance instructs the driver to take them to a bar downtown that's laid back and not a popular teen hangout. They can spend time there without being bothered. JC settles back in the seat, his thumb rubbing soothingly against the back of Lance's hand. "You want to talk about it?" he asks quietly.
"Talk about what?"
"Whatever's got you upset enough to walk out on your own party."
"I didn't walk out. No one expected me to stick around. It was breaking up anyway. Besides, that was for the press."
"Okay. My mistake. Everything's great." JC stares out the window.
"Can we just get there and have a drink first?"
"Yeah. Sorry."
They pull up in front of the bar and hurry inside. Lance leads them to a table in the back, in a dark corner lit only by a small candle on the plain wood table. He orders drinks for them and leans back in his chair. "Long week, dude."
"Yeah, and it's only Tuesday. You are SO promised a backrub when we get back."
"You'd do that? 'Cause we can call the hotel and tell them to send someone up."
"If you'd prefer that, sure."
"I wouldn't. I just don't want you to feel you have to do something to make up for Justin and Chris."
"This is about you and me and you having a rough week. Not about anyone or anything else."
"There hasn't been very much you and me lately."
"Well, maybe we can fix that tonight. At least a little."
"I'd like that. And that backrub."
"Anything you want."
"I want to have some fun. C'mon, drink up."
JC compares Lance's nearly empty glass with his almost full one and quickly downs most of the contents. "You trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?"
"I'm trying to get us both drunk."
JC grins. "That should help you face Regis in the morning."
Lance drops his head on the table. "Don't remind me."
"Sorry. He's hard to face no matter what your condition."
"At least he won't ask to see my tattoos."
"He better not. You bringing Lonnie?"
"Yeah, of course. He won't let me go anywhere without him."
"Well, then, at least you have someone to defend your honor . . . "
Lance peeks up from the table and sees Lonnie across the room, at the bar, trying to give the boys as much space as his job will allow. "I'd rather not have any honor to defend."
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Sometimes, I wish I could be bad."
"What would you do?"
"Anything. Go out and get drunk--wait, I'm doing that now. Go out and get drunk and swing from the chandelier. Act wild in the streets. Moon someone. Cuss."
"You can moon someone on the way back to the hotel."
Lance giggles. "That'll look real good on Page Six."
"Look, babe, I think you have the most gorgeous ass on the planet, but I don't think the average person on the street would recognize it."
"Did you miss that issue of Celebrity Asses?"
"I let my subscription expire."
"You don't know what you're missing."
"There's only one celebrity ass I want to see. And touch."
"You want to touch Regis's ass?"
JC starts to get up. "Excuse me. I need to go shower. And not the cold kind, either."
Lonnie glances over, ready to make a move. "Sit down," Lance orders. "If you're gonna shower, at least let me join you."
"No more Regis talk?"
"No Regis. More alchohol."
"Okay," JC says, signaling the waitress. He slips one foot out of its shoe and starts to run it up and down Lance's calf.
Lance jerks upright, his eyes widening. "JC, are you trying to get us in trouble?"
"Yep. Nope. It's dark."
Lance feels the heat rise in his chest. "Jay-ceeeeeee . . . "
"Tell me to stop and I will."
Lance is silent. He knows he should say something, but the words don't come. Instead, he takes a slow sip from his drink, eyeing JC over the rim of his glass.
JC sits back in his chair, meeting Lance's gaze and continuing the steady movement of his foot.
Lance looks down at his drink, taking slow, steady breaths. He's already hard, and the liquor only makes it easier.
"We could um," JC says huskily, "go back to the hotel."
"You can go back if you want. I don't want to keep you out. I just don't feel like dealing with the crowd right now."
JC's foot stops its travels up and down Lance's leg. "Um, no. That's not what I want."
"Good. Because I do want to go back to the hotel with you, but I don't want 100 kids taking pictures of it."
"We need stunt doubles. Decoys."
"We should use my cousin. Everyone says he looks like me."
"He does. Only not."
"Enough to be a distraction."
"We can send him in the front and sneak in the back."
Lance sighs. "I don't even know where he is right now. So I guess we're stuck here for now."
"Yeah, we'll have to plan it better next time."
"Here's to next time," proclaims Lance, raising his glass. JC resumes rubbing Lance's leg.
"Here's to every time."
"This was my first, you know. Movie premiere."
"I know. Haven't I watched you every step of the way?"
"Yeah, you have. I just wish everyone was here."
"They should have been," JC says quietly, but his voice is tinged with anger.
"At least you and Laura and Beth were there."
"They still should have been there. We would have been there for them."
Lance shrugs. "We're all doing stuff now."
"This was more important."
Playing with his straw, Lance grows silent. Yes, it was important and he wanted everyone to be here. It was a great night, but without all five of them there it just wasn't the same.
JC touches Lance's hand, a gesture too quick to be noticed by the casual observer, but nonetheless important.
Lance meets JC's eyes and smiles. After all, this night is supposed to be a celebration.
JC smiles back, wishing there was more he could have done, hoping his own unflagging support made up for the others' absence at least a little.
The waitress comes by with another round. "On the house," she announces with a wink.
"Thanks," JC says with his famous smile. He looks at the drink a little dubiously. He's not sure how many he's had, but he usually can't keep up with Lance like this. Lance, of course, looks his usual calm, controlled self.
"You want to get out of here?"
"Yeah, sure." JC pulls out his wallet and drops several bills on the table. He slips back into his shoe and rises, realizing he's not completely steady on his feet. It's not an altogether unpleasant sensation. They head for the door, where they meet up with Lonnie.
"Where to, boys?"
Lance scratches his head. "Oh. Um someplace . . . I don't know. Someplace private."
"It's a big city, guys. You gotta give me more than that."
"Take us to a-a-a motel." JC blurts, then giggles. Lonnie just stands there, his face a stoic mask, and says, "Come on."
"You're taking us to a motel?" Lance asks in disbelief. Lonnie turns around, rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "Just come on." They pile in the SUV, Lonnie in the front as he gives the driver directions to the Soho Grand. Not a motel by any means, but also not where the teenies expect them to be. By now, everyone knows they're staying at the Trump, far uptown. The Soho Grand is plush but not glitzy, so they're able to walk in unnoticed. JC, a little revived by the fresh air, is practically gleeful. They manage to check in without raising any eyebrows, and they're in the elevator before they know it.
"So, Han Solo, wanna come up to my room?" asks Lance.
"I thought you'd never ask, Dr. Seuss."
"We could jump on the bed."
"I have better ideas about the bed," JC says suavely, but then dissolves into giggles. "I can't believe we're doing this."
"Doing what? It's not like it's anything really bad."
"No. Just a little crazy. Good crazy."
"But not bad."
"Oh, wait. You WANTED to be bad."
"Yeah. But we can't because we're good."
"Maybe we can't be bad," JC says, moving closer. "But we can be naughty."
"How naughty?"
"Naughty as we wanna be."
"Like, what are you gonna do that's naughty?"
"You know that backrub I promised you? With. My. Tongue."
"Aw, that's not naughty."
"Then you tell me something naughty."
"Let's streak down the hall! Make phony phone calls! Toss water balloons! Screw with the lights on!"
"'We don't have any balloons. But we can do that other stuff."
"YOU would streak down the hall? JC Chasez would streak down the hall?"
"Give me another drink and I'll do pretty much anything."
As they reach the room, Lance turns to JC. "Darlin', consider it poured." He swings open the door and head straight for the minibar. He extracts two bottles of beer and hands one to JC.
JC opens the bottle and takes a deep swig. He puts the bottle on the nightstand, kicks off his shoes, and jumps up on the bed. He bounces a couple of times, then turns to Lance. "Care to join me?"
Lance doesn't bother taking his shoes off. He leaps on the mattress and bounces as high as he can. "We're probably gonna break it."
"And that would be BAD. Very bad."
"Not Johnny Depp bad, but close."
JC takes Lance's hands, and they bounce together. "I guess we're just not very good at being bad," he says sadly.
"No, we suck at it."
"And I'm gonna get sick if I don't stop bouncing."
"That would be BAAAAAAAD!" Lance gives one more emphatic bounce, then falls to the mattress laughing.
JC flops down bonelessly next to Lance. Playing with the buttons on Lance's vest, he asks, "What's next? Streaking?"
"Yeah!" Lance sits up and begins stripping off his coat and vest.
"You're nuts" JC declares, but he obligingly starts unbuttoning.
Lance kicks his shoes off and lowers his pants. "You're not turning chicken on me, are you?"
"Do you not see me undressing?"
"You talk the talk, but can you walk the walk?" Lance's pants are on the floor and he's working on his shirt.
"Watch me." JC tosses his shirts on the bed and slips his pants over his hips.
"I'll believe it when I see your ass sprinting down the hall." Lance's shirt joins his pants and now he peels off his undershirt.
JC hops on one foot, then the other, removing his socks. "You shoulda brought your camcorder, babe."
"I could make a phone call." The last thing to go is his underwear, but he waits until JC is at that point too.
"Wouldn't that sort of kill the whole 'sneaking off to a seedy motel' vibe?" JC grins, sliding his boxer-briefs over his narrow hips. "Ready?"
In unison, Lance has tossed his underwear aside as well. "After you."
JC cracks the door, peeks out, blushes, looks back at Lance. "Um, you have the room key?"
"Here." Lance takes one of his shoes and puts in the doorframe.
JC looks at the shoe. "To the elevator and back?"
"You're on. One, two..."
"Three." JC sprints out of the room, not even looking to see if Lance is with him.
Lance gives JC the lead, just to watch his ass move, to see the muscles on his legs stretch and contract. With a whoop, he darts after his friend, and the two sprint to the elevator, slamming into the wall and turn quickly. As the near their room, they hear the elevator doors slide open. "Oh, shit!" exclaims Lance.
Neither looks back as they tumble against the door. JC trips on Lance's shoe and almost goes down, but manages to stay on his feet. "Do you think they saw us?" he giggles, breathlessly.
Lance pushes JC inside, barely able to breathe, he's laughing so hard. "I hope so."
"So, no more calling me chicken?"
"If the guys only knew," Lance wails, doubled over on the floor.
"We're so BAD!" JC dissolves in giggles, flopping on top of Lance.
"Maybe just a little. At least WE know we are."
"And that's all that counts."
"Sure wish I had a picture of your ass, though."
"I'll have one done for you for Christmas."
"If anyone's gonna do your ass, it's gonna be me."
"Sweet talker."
"Why talk when we can do other things?" Lance asks seductively, running his fingers up JC's naked chest.
"Make fake phone calls?"
Lance leaps to the bed and pulls JC with him. With a bounce, he reaches for the phone.
"I'm in love with a crazy man," JC says. "Who are you calling?"
"Shhhhh." Then, into the phone Lance says, "Do you deliver? Great. Can you send ten pizzas to room 305 at the Trump Plaza?"
"Joey's gonna love you."
"Not when he gets the bill."
"It's still food. Surprise food."
"That wasn't bad enough, then. Your turn." He hands the phone to JC and watches.
JC stares at the phone like he's been handed a snake. "Me? But I can't think of anything."
"C'mon, we've done this before."
JC takes the phone and dials. A few minutes later Wade has 6 subscriptions to the New York Times coming to his house in LA. "Okay?"
"That's EVIL, dude! Especially since he's hardly ever there. He's gonna have like 300 newspapers waiting for him."
"Aren't you proud of me?"
"Like, totally proud. I couldn't be more proud. I'm so proud I'm gonna explode."
"Now THAT would be bad." JC smiles and stretches. "I promised you a backrub..."
"You did." Lance flops onto his stomach, his chin on his arms.
"Hang on." JC goes into the bathroom and finds a tiny bottle of lotion. Nothing fancy, but good enough. Rubbing the lotion into his hands, he returns to Lance, dropping the bottle next to him. "Put your arms down," JC says, and when Lance complies, JC starts working on Lance's shoulders, still tight in spite of the alcohol Lance has imbibed.
Lance groans, not from any pain but from the gentle pressure that JC is applying, releasing so much of the tension that Lance has been storing up. He takes a deep, cleansing breath. "JC, thanks for coming."
"Nothing could have kept me away."
"Not just the premiere. I knew you would. I knew you'd be there. But now, here. Thank you."
JC thinks about all the things he could say. But in the end he kisses the back of Lance's neck softly. "You're welcome," he says simply and resumes working on Lance's tired muscles.
"Mmmm, that feels so good. Can I hire you to be the tour masseuse?"
"Nope. This is only for you."
"You spoil me."
"You deserve it."
"That's not what my mom says."
JC continues to press his strong hands against Lance's back. "Your mom's wro--mistaken."
Lance caught JC's near faux pas but lets it slide. "I don't want to let this get to my head."
"Baby, this is just you and me. I get to spoil you anytime I want."
"I like when you do. But with all that's going on, I need you to keep me grounded."
"We've always done that for each other," JC says, digging the heels of his hands into Lance's lower back. "You're still my Lance."
Lance squeezes his eyes shut against the tightness of his muscles now being loosened, but a smile plays on his lips. He loves the sound of that--that sense of belonging. "That's all I want to be."
JC's hands wander over Lance's back, searching for remaining tight spots. "I'm still enough?"
"You're more than I could ever have hoped for. What makes you even ask that?"
"I don't know. Maybe seeing you with Laura tonight. Made me wonder if you ever regret giving up the wife and kids dream."
Lance lays his head back down and ponders this for a minute. "It's not like I ever really wanted a wife--marriage, yes. And kids. But I don't think we have to give that up. Neither of us is ready right now, but when the time comes, we'll figure it out together. You know Laura's just a friend. She's one of my best friends, but that's all. I never felt for her the way I feel for you. And you know we have to do it this way."
"I know." JC stretches out on his side next to Lance, one hand still moving slowly up and down his back. "Doesn't mean I don't get little twinges of insecurity."
The touch is so soothing Lance can't help but be aroused. "You have nothing to worry about. No matter what I say in public it's YOU I'm thinking about. Laura knows that."
JC moves closer, laying his head on Lance's shoulder. "I didn't say it made sense."
"I just really need for us to be cool with this. I'm gonna be in New York a lot for the next few weeks and we're not gonna be able to spend a lot of time together. I need to know that you're okay."
"I'm...I'm okay most of the time. I just need to hear it once in a while."
"I'll tell you as much as you want. But I want you to show me you're okay."
"How?"
"Make love to me."
JC kisses a sensitive spot between Lance's shoulder blades. "I don't need to have something to prove to do that."
The kiss tingles, sending a pleasant chill down Lance's spine. "Good. Because I promise you, you are it for me. Especially if you keep doing that."
And that's just what JC does, kissing his way up and down Lance's spine until Lance is practically squirming.
Lance remains on his stomach, reveling in the delicious sensation of JC's cool, wet lips on his skin. His erection presses against the soft bedclothes, creating another enticing sensation.
In one long sweep, JC licks from the base of Lance's spine to the top, nuzzling into Lance's neck as he presses the length of his body against Lance's.
Lance squirms in delight against JC, feeling JC's own hardness against his body. He relaxes then, a silent invitation to his lover.
JC traces the shell of Lance's ear with an eager tongue. He fumbles on the bed to find the lotion he'd dropped there before, and manages, one handed, to squeeze some into his hand. He slips his fingers between the firm globes of Lance's ass and teases the small, puckered opening. Lance practically purrs, beckoning JC to provide the pleasure Lance yearns for.
With no more preparation, only aching hunger, JC pushes into Lance, relishing the heat and tightness. Lance moans, pressing his palms against the mattress and raising his hips to encourage JC further.
"So good," JC moans, more aroused than ever by Lance's encouragement. He pushes in further, feeling Lance open to him.
Grabbing fistfuls of blanket, Lance moves against JC, matching JC's rhythm. He bites his lip in ecstasy as he receives each thrust.
JC reaches under Lance to wrap his hand around Lance's erection, stroking the hard, hot organ as he pumps smoothly into his lover. He captures Lance's earlobe between his teeth and nibbles on the succulent morsel, his breath hot on Lance's neck.
It's this state of capture that excites Lance most. Being completely in JC's control, experiencing all the pleasure his lover has to give-- it's not something Lance experiences often, this state of surrender. He's in control of every aspect of his life, but here, in JC's arms, he can give himself over. And he does. "JC," he pants.
"Lance," JC replies, whispering it right into Lance's ear. "Love you."
"Love you back," Lance groans, gritting his teeth as he nears release.
Knowing Lance's reactions as well as his own, JC can hear in Lance's voice, can feel in the way Lance's body flexes in his arms, that Lance is close to coming. He thrusts a little deeper, strokes Lance a little harder, bringing them both to the very brink.
With sweat creating a slick sheen on his back, Lance pushes up with his hands to take in all that JC has to give. They rock in time, faster and faster, until Lance is unable to hold back any longer. With a deep groan, he comes, pressing his body back as far as it will go to be as close to JC as possible.
With one final thrust, JC comes as well, collapsing against Lance's back and then easing them both down onto the bed.
Lance takes JC's arms and wraps them around his body as though JC were a human blanket. "You still have doubts?"
"I never had doubts. I had fears. That's different."
"Well I hope you know you have nothing to be afraid of. NO ONE can match what you just did."
"I have great inspiration."
"From who? JC, is there something I should know?"
"From you, you dork."
Lance nudges JC. "I'm not the dork, dork."
"I dork you, dork."
"I dork you back, bigger dork," giggles Lance.
JC tightens his arms around Lance. "Man, we're bad when we're sober, but we're hopeless with a few drinks in us."
"A few? I guess someone didn't have enough to drink."
"Oh, I'm feeling JUST fine."
"Just fine? Wow, I'm gonna have to work harder next time."
"Not fine. FAAAAAAHHHHN."
"Are you makin' fun of me?"
"Nope. Well, maybe a little."
"Sure, make fun of the southerner." But Lance is smiling.
"Only because you're so CUTE."
"Shut up. Now I know you're drunk."
JC moves one hand to prime tickling position. "I always think you're cute."
Lance wriggles against JC. "Then you're always drunk!"
JC starts tickling Lance mercilessly. "If I was drunk I couldn't do this."
"Yes you could--you're a mean drunk! We should send you to rehab!"
"Aw, how 'bout if I kiss you instead."
"That would work." Lance turns his head, waiting for those luscious lips to touch his.
JC obliges, making the kiss as sweet as their earlier lovemaking was passionate.
Lance turns in JC's arms. "YOU are sexy when you're drunk."
"You're sexy all the time."
"Are you gonna start that again?"
"I'll stop when you start believing me."
"Okay, I'm sexy. Whatever."
"You're also a brat."
"Ah am."
JC laughs his manic, delighted laugh. "At least you admit it."
"One of these days you're gonna hurt yourself."
"Are you makin' fun of me?" JC mocks.
"Yeah, I think I am. What are you gonna do about it?"
"This." And before Lance can protest, JC's mouth is on Lance's, JC's tongue thrusting deeply.
"Ooo, playing dirty," Lance coos, when they finally part.
"Yeah. What are YOU going to do about it?"
"This." Lance makes as though he's going to kiss JC, but moves to his cheek instead and swipes it with his tongue.
JC giggles again. "You been hanging out with Jackson too much?"
"Not enough. Poor thing's threatening to leave me for Chris."
"Aw, puppy. You can leave him with me more. He likes me."
"He does. He cries when you leave."
"Then I'm pet sitting whenever you need me."
"Funny that you should say that..."
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow? During Regis?"
"We'll both be sleeping, but, yeah."
"Aw, I want a picture of that."
"You send Steve and you're in big trouble."
"C'mon, one little picture. You're so cute when you're asleep."
"You can take a picture. No Steve."
"I won't even tell him you're dog sitting. Can you take him after DC too?"
"You got it, babe. JC's Kennel."
"I knew I could count on you. For everything."
"You can. Always."
Lance looks up at the clock. "I hate to say it, but looks like the party's over."
"But not the fun. We still have to face Lonnie."
A slow, sneaky smile spreads across Lance's face. "I have an idea." He picks up the phone and dials Lonnie's cell. "Yeah, we're coming down in like five minutes." Then he starts gathering his clothes. "Get dressed and follow me."
JC dresses quickly and sits again to put on his shoes. They huddle near the door, listening for any footsteps. Lance cracks the door and peers out. With the coast clear, he heads for the back stairs, JC at his heels. They descend to the far end of the lobby and spot Lonnie, arms crossed, eyeing the elevators. Slowly, they approach from behind. JC catches Lance's eye and they both suppress giggles. Finally, when they're about three feet behind Lonnie, they look at each other and say, not loudly, "Boo."
Lonnie spins around, a look of death on his face, and rolls his eyes when he sees his still-drunk charges. "You know your mama can still ground you," he says to Lance. "Get in the car."
"JC told me to do it."
"I did," JC insists with round, guileless eyes. "I'm BAD."
"You're gonna be grounded," Lance says with exaggeration, putting a finger on JC's chest to emphasize.
Lonnie just shakes his head as he climbs in the front seat. "I'm gonna ground both your asses."
"But you're our favorite bodyguard in the whole wide world." The boys snuggle in the backseat, enjoying the last few minutes of their unexpected freedom.
"Yeah, Lon, you're the BESTEST!" Lance breaks out in a fit of giggles. "Hey, Lon, let's go on a road trip."
"The only trip you're taking is back to the hotel and straight to bed. You got a show tomorrow." Fortunately, for Lonnie, the drive to the hotel only takes a few minutes. At this hour of the morning, traffic is light. Nevertheless, there's a small crowd of girls waiting on the sidewalk. Lance obliges a few of them, then hustles inside.
JC follows, a little more carefully. He already got jumped by a fan once tonight. He catches up to Lance at the elevator. "Hey, you."
"Hey." Lance leans against the wall, yearning to touch JC but knowing he can't.
"How much time do you have to sleep before you have to go?"
"I don't know, a few hours?"
JC grimaces sympathetically. "Ouch. But maybe Regis will be less scary if you sleep through it."
"You saying I should just stay up?"
"No, you gotta get some sleep. You already look exhausted."
"Will you at least tuck me in?"
"And sing you a lullaby."
As the elevator doors open, Lance purrs, "Darlin' I wish I was in bed already." The ride is quick, and in the hall a bleary-eyed Lance pulls out his key and slides it in the lock. Smiling, he swings open the door, but the smile vanishes when he turns on the light. There's a huge bouquet of flowers on the table and his message light blinks like it's sending morse code. Lance shuffles to the flowers, puzzled. He flips open the card and then puts it on the table.
JC, puzzled by Lance's reaction follows him to the table. "Babe?"
"It's nothing. From Justin and Britney. 'Congratulations on your big night'."
"Nice of them," JC says with a hint of bitterness.
"Yeah. Whatever. At least they thought of it."
JC puts his hands on Lance's shoulders. "They should have been here. It's okay to be mad, Lance. It's okay to be hurt."
Lance lowers his head. He's tired--no, exhausted. And it's just the beginning. "I'm sure they would have come if they could," he says quietly.
"They should have--I don't know. Tried harder. I would have been here, no matter what. Even if we weren't together."
"It means so much to me that you're here. That you know what's important to me."
JC kisses the back of Lance's neck. "What's important right now is that you get some sleep. Come on." JC leads Lance to the bed and kneels to take off his shoes.
"What would I do without you?"
"Sleep in your shoes?"
"That too." He falls backward on the bed, comforted in knowing that he's in good hands.
JC strips Lance to his underwear, then rolls him under the covers. He tosses his own clothing aside and crawls in next to Lance.
"What about my lullaby?" Lance asks sleepily.
"Close your eyes," JC sings, improvising a tune. "And I'll be here. Sleep, my love, and have no fears."
"That's good," Lance mumbles, and before he drifts off adds, "you should write that down..."
"That one's just for you." JC says drowsily.
And so they sleep. Lance, restless from the excitement of the day, plagued by dreams of his friends. Friends here, friends absent. And no matter how hard JC tried to fill the hole left by Chris and Justin, Lance still feels an emptiness, even in his dreams.