Take a Number
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Inspired by Bobbie's oh-so-pleasant expression while sitting next to JC at the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony.
"Why'd you bring HIM with us?"
"Bobbie, if you don't want to be here, go home."
"Fine, I'm supposed to just fly back to LA now? I'm getting a little tired of being your 'beard,' JC."
"Fine. Any time you want to end this little arrangement is fine by me."
"I never said I wanted to end it, but I just wish you'd pay a little more attention to me. I'm tired of getting dragged to every friggin' event and then getting dropped at the hotel."
"You knew what you were getting into. You WANTED to get into all these events."
"Yeah, for the connections, I know. But I just feel like such a loser sometimes. Couldn't you at least pretend to be into me?"
"Maybe if you didn't look so put out all the time."
"I wouldn't look so put out if he--"
"Sorry I took so long. Are we up yet?"
Bobbie turns away in a huff.
"Hey, Lance. We've still got a while to go."
"Is something wrong?"
"Same old same old."
"Oh. Bobbie, are you okay?"
"I'm FINE. Just fine."
Lance looks down, then away, then back at JC. He mouths, "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault, Lance."
"Boy, I hope I make my flight back to Toronto," Lance says, loud enough for Bobbie to hear.
"You will. If the limo runs a few red lights."
"It's a late flight. I'm sure I'll have time. I hardly get to see you these days. I thought maybe we could all hang out at the party after."
"Time is just not working in our favor these days."
"Look, Bobbie, I'm trying. Really. I know this isn't easy for you. But I want you to know how much I appreciate this."
"Trying what? Trying how?"
"Trying to make it easy on you. I know it sucks covering for me and JC all the time. And someday you won't have to. But Bobbie, we get you into these places. That's got to count for something."
"Oh, gee, that's so big of you. I'm a journalist. I could get in on my own credentials."
"But not seats like this. Look, Bobbie, I don't want to fight. What can we do to make this easier on you?"
"You make it really hard to hate you when you're more attentive than my supposed boyfriend."
"Men can be such pigs sometimes."
"Tell me about it."
"So what do you say, you put up with us for the night and next time I'm in town we'll do something fun."
"I don't know how much longer I can DO this, Lance."
"Someday we'll figure something out. Right now people aren't ready for us to . . . you know come out. If you could just hang on a little longer--and you'll get the scoop. You know that."
"I know. It's just getting harder to hold on. Maybe if I could meet someone, you know? But I'm quite publicly taken."
"I promise you, when this is all over you'll have so many dates lined up you won't have time for anything else."
"I'll hold you to that."
"I always live up to my promises. But Bobbie, there's one more thing I need to ask you. Could you, like, switch seats with me? Just for a little while."
"Yeah. You've only got a few minutes before you have to go up there, anyway."
"You're the best, Bobbie." After switching seats, Lance places his hand on JC's thigh, under the table, hidden by the long table cloth. "I'm gonna have to leave right in the middle of the party you know."
"I know. You know, I'm glad you're doing this movie, and I'm proud of you, but I miss you so much."
"I miss you too. I hate not having you around." He slowly begins to slide his hand up JC's thigh.
JC shifts in his seat and closes his eyes. "Lance . . . "
"We're just having a conversation, right? Just watching the ceremony and having a conversation." His hand travels higher, and he can feel the heat generating from JC's crotch before he even reaches it.
"Is that what we're doing? Cause I could have sworn you were feeling me up."
"Shhh. No one's feeling anyone up. I can't help it if my hand has a mind of its own." And it does, because while he's saying this, his hand begins to massage the warm place between JC's legs.
JC takes a deep breath, trying to school his face into an attentive expression, as if he were actually aware of what's taking place on the stage in front of him.
Lance's hand moves higher, to the button securing JC's pants, and he quickly flicks it open, then manages to slide down the zipper. He clears his throat, then slides his hand inside the opening, to the flap in JC's shorts. Soon, his fingers graze the already stiff member, and he tries his best to hide his smile. He leans his head on his other hand as he begins to stroke the shaft, slow and rhythmically.
JC's eyes widen and he doesn't even allow himself to blink. His vocal training comes in handy as he manages to regulate his breathing. Fortunately, everyone in the room seems to be so enraptured with Ricky Martin's performance that no one is paying them any attention. Except Bobbie, who looks amused for the first time all night.
Lance studies his fingernails casually as his other hand continues its purposeful strokes. Then he wraps his hand around the length of JC's pulsing erection and squeezes gently before returning to the rhythm he's established. Bobbie has her hand over her mouth, trying her best to contain the laughter threatening to erupt, and Lance's eyes return to the stage, where Ricky is now serenading the audience with a rendition of "Oh Donna." Lance's hand moves in time with beat.
JC bites the inside of his lip and his breathing quickens in spite of his struggle. He grips the side of his seat to keep from bucking and thrusting against Lance's warm, strong hand.
Tightening his grip, Lance increases the tempo of his strokes, humming along to the tune Ricky Martin is bellowing.
Humming? Lance knows perfectly well what THAT does to JC. JC can't hold on much longer. Just as Ricky finishes up and the room explodes in applause, JC, er, finishes up too, his slight cry muffled by the noise surrounding them. He manages to grab a handful of tablecloth and press it to himself, keeping the milky white fluid from staining his clothes.
Lance leans back in his chair, only releasing JC when he feels the sticky substance fill his hand. He wipes it off on the tablecloth and joins the crowd in rousing applause.
"Was that supposed to make me miss you less?" JC asks as he surreptitiously rezips and rebuttons.
"It's supposed to give you something to think about while I'm away."
"Oh, I'll be thinking."
"So will I," Bobbie chimes in with a wink.
"I don't WANT to think about," groans Chris.
"Think about what?" asks Justin.
"Don't we have to get backstage?" JC urges.
Chris watches JC's unsteady rise. "If you can walk, dude. Geez, Lance, can I sit next to you next time?"
"Take a number."