The Other Half
by Karen and LB
© 2002
We were watching Queer as Folk and...
It's a rare night when the boys stay in, but they'd been working in the studio all day and planning for next year's tour. By the time they had some free time and JC suggested ordering in and watching TV, Lance was game. So now, they're stretched out on Lance's bed with a bowl of popcorn between them, Lance on his stomach with the clicker in his hand. He's flipping channels when the image of two men kissing flashes on the screen. Queer as Folk. He'd heard of the show but had never seen it. He'd wanted to check it out from time to time, knowing it was filmed in Toronto and wondering if he'd recognize any of the filming locations from when he filmed On the Line. "You ever seen this show?" he asks JC.
"No. I never even heard of it."
"It's supposed to be good. Wendy knows one of the actors, used to be on Talk Soup or something. She said I should check it out--whoa! Did you see that?" Lance blushes as two of the characters engage in a rather explicit display of intercourse. He quickly flips the channel. JC grabs the remote. "Put it back on. Maybe I'll get some pointers on technique."
"That looks like one of Joey's porn movies. Besides, you don't need any pointers."
"Okay, but the show was . . . good. Interesting."
"There are two men having sex. This is . . . wow, he's kind of hot."
"Yeah," JC breathes. He stares again at the two men on the screen. "They kind of remind me of . . . us."
Lance turns his head to see JC. "How so?"
"Just, you know. Brown-haired guy, blond-haired guy. Hot."
"You have a better ass."
"Yeah, and you're way cuter than this Justin kid. But still . . . there's something there."
"They seem to have good chemistry. Like us."
"Is that what we have?" JC asks, running his hand down Lance's back to rest on his ass.
"What do you think it is? A 'cosmic connection'?" Lance asks, mimicking one of the lines from his movie.
"Yeah. That." JC moves the popcorn and snuggles closer, and they watch the rest of the episode cheek-to-cheek.
"Do you think we're doing this wrong?" asks Lance, when the credits roll.
"Doing what wrong?" JC asks back, nuzzling Lance's ear.
"This. This relationship."
Between kisses and licks, JC says, "Wrong how? We do this VERY good."
Lance remains on his stomach, content to let JC play. "I guess. It just seems like gay men are supposed to go out and have sex all the time."
"We have sex all the time."
"With each other. That show made it seem like gay men have sex all the time with different men."
"You want to sleep with someone else?"
"No, not really. No. Do you?"
"No. I just . . . "
"Just what?"
"Sometimes, I um, wonder. What it would be like . . . with someone else."
Lance feels a stab of jealousy, but even he has to admit he's thought about it. "Um, is there, um, something I'm not doing that you'd, um, you know . . . "
"NO! It's just, you know, how many guys our age have only ever slept with one person, you know?"
"Not many. Some of my friends, but a lot--they're in college and it's just so easy to . . . And when you're a celebrity it's even easier." He thinks of the many young celebrities in their circle of friends who have been known to work the circuit. He just never thought of himself that way. Never needed to. Still, sometimes . . .
"I just wonder, though. I don't intend to do anything about it."
Lance rests his chin on his hands and watches JC. Watches his face for any sign that he might not be completely honest about that. "If you wanted to, though, I'd understand. If you got tired of me. Or if you just wanted to see what it was like."
"Is that what you think this is about? That I'm tired of you? Because I could never be."
"So if you're not tired of me, what IS this about? Are you curious? Like, to know what it feels like? With someone else?"
"You brought this up, Lance. What's it about for you?"
Lance shrugs. "Nothing. Just curious."
"Same here. But if this is going to mess things up for us, it's not worth it."
"You're right. Not worth it. I have everything I need right here."
"Right where?" JC moves a little closer.
"Right . . . here," Lance says, touching his finger to the end of JC's nose.
JC nips playfully at Lance's finger, then pulls it into his mouth. Lance takes a deep breath as his digit disappears inside JC's warm, moist mouth. "Uh, I guess I have everything I need right there too."
JC smiles around Lance's finger, then swirls his tongue around it.
While JC is thus distracted, Lance reaches down and slides his hand inside JC's pajama bottoms, cupping the quickly hardening bulge.
"Oh!" JC releases Lance's finger and leans in to kiss Lance's lips instead.
Lance smiles into the kiss while his hand wraps around JC's stiff member and begins stroking it gently, in the way he has come to believe JC likes to be stroked. But there's this nagging feeling in the back of his mind that maybe, just maybe, he's been doing it WRONG.
Over the next few weeks, Lance and JC manage to find an excuse to stay in on Sunday nights. They watch the episodes unfold, and talk about them afterwards, always edging around but never really facing the question that's in both of their minds.
Until one night. Instead of going to their usual haunts, they decide to hit one of the gay clubs to get away from the teenies who always seem to know where they'll be and when. It's not unusual for the boys to go to gay clubs--they find it's a nice escape when they're in a strange city and need some time away from hormonally charged young girls. So tonight, at Lance's suggestion, they're at a local gay nightspot-- loud, crowded, with the kind of music that pulsates through your veins. Amid stares and raised eyebrows they head to the bar for a drink. They realize, after a few minutes, that the stares aren't because they're recognized; it's because other men actually find them attractive. This amuses Lance, who can't seem to get it in his head that he just might be attractive to someone other than JC.
"What do you want?" Lance shouts over the electronica.
"Um," JC says, eyeing some of the guys eyeing him. "Gin and tonic?"
Lance gets the drinks, then starts doing his signature Lance dance.
"Hey," says a young guy standing next to him. "Wanna dance?"
Lance looks over at JC.
JC half nods, half shrugs.
Lance takes a sip of his drink, then allows himself to be led to the dance floor. JC watches, torn between jealousy and curiosity. When the very cute guy next to him offers to buy him a drink, he forgets about being either. He lifts his drink to show it's still full, but smiles, indicating he's open to . . . conversation.
"You look familiar--have I seen you here before?" asks the stranger.
"Um, no?" JC says, uncertainly. Then, regaining his composure, he adds, smiling "But if you ask me my sign, I'm leaving."
"I'll cross that one off my list." The man holds out his hand.
A guy walks by shirtless, drawing both their eyes. "Hi, John," he says.
The stranger grins at JC."Now you know my name. What about yours?"
JC hesitates. "Scott. Are you, um, from here?"
"Moved here three years ago. You?"
"I travel a lot. I'm only here for the one night." JC glances at the dance floor and immediately spots Lance still dancing, apparently having a great time. JC finishes his drink and smiles at John.
"Only one night, hmmm? You with anyone?"
"Yeah. I came with my . . . friend," JC says, and immediately feels guilty.
John glances around. "He's not here right now."
"Nope. But you are."
"Want to go someplace quieter?"
JC looks down into his empty glass. There's no way he's drunk enough for this. But he says, "Um, okay."
John takes JC's hand and leads him through the crowd to a back room where they can still hear the music, but it's muffled. The room is dark and there's a bar at one end with couches lining the walls. Each couch is surrounded by a semi-sheer curtain, providing enough privacy for the occupants. John spots an empty couch in the corner. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Yes, please," JC says with a sense of relief. "Gin and tonic, please."
John gets the drinks and returns quickly. He sits beside JC, one arm thrown on the back of the couch and his body turned toward JC. "You have great hair," John says, fingering a stray lock.
"I, um, thanks." JC takes a big gulp of his drink, feeling his courage, however false, grow with the burn of the liquor in his throat.
"And a sexy mouth." John traces JC's lips with his fingertips, drawing closer.
JC's eyes are huge as he watches John lean in toward him. It's almost as if he's outside, watching this happen to someone else.
John closes the gap, covering JC's mouth with his own.
JC feels like two people. One who's excited physically by being kissed--and even more so by being kissed by a stranger--and another who's more analytical, noticing how different John tastes and smells. How differently he kisses.
John places his hand at the back of JC's neck and parts his lips, flicking his tongue out and teasing JC's lips. His other hand trails down JC's arm to his waist.
JC pushes all thoughts of Lance out of his mind and forces himself to relax. John is a good kisser, not too aggressive, and JC has to admit it feels good.
As soon as John senses JC responding to his kiss, he slides his hand further down, between JC's legs to the warm area of his crotch. JC whimpers and starts to tremble.
John pulls back, genuine concern in his words. "Are you okay?"
JC turns away, his elbows on his knees, his face in his hands. "I'm sorry," comes out in a near-whisper.
John puts a comforting hand on JC's back and rubs it gently. "This is your first time, isn't it? Being with someone else?"
"Yeah. I guess . . . I guess I'm not ready. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . . "
"You didn't. It's no problem, man. But you're pretty hot so if you come to a place like this, your boyfriend shouldn't leave you alone."
"I . . . we . . . " JC sighs. "We've been talking about, you know, getting out more? I don't think it's gonna work."
"How long you been going out?"
"Three years."
"That's a long time to be with one person. What made you decide you needed a change?"
"Neither of us has ever been with anyone else."
"That's commitment. So you thought you'd see how the other half lives?"
"Yeah," JC says, reddening. "Stupid, huh?"
"Nah. Lots of guys do it. It's just too bad you're so honest." John grins and winks. "I'll see you around, Scott."
"Yeah. Um, thanks, for, you know, understanding."
John nods and disappears through the doorway.
*****
Back on the dance floor, Lance is shaking his ass and waving his hands in the air as the music pulsates through the club. His eyes wander back to the bar, but he doesn't see JC. Figuring JC is dancing too, Lance focuses his attention back on the not-unattractive stranger in front of him. He smiles shyly and when the music changes to a club mix version of "Pop" he has to force himself not to break into choreography.
The group keeps shifting, different men vying for Lance's attention, trying to draw the beautiful jade eyes to themselves. A few have bought him drinks, and he's visibly more relaxed than when he started. Lance has to admit: This is fun. More fun that he would have imagined. He's not used to garnering this much attention, because usually when they go out it's a big group of guys and girls together, so he's never aware of anyone's eyes on him. Except for JC. Lance wonders briefly if JC is okay and if he's having a good time. He's probably somewhere on the other side of the room or at the bar or maybe even in the men's room. Lance has lost track, as he's lost track of how much he's had to drink.
"You look lost," a pleasant voice says.
"No, I'm just . . . hi."
"Hi." The attractive, slightly older guy put his hands on Lance's waist, stilling his swaying. "Wanna dance?"
Lance shrugs. "Sure." He makes no move to get away from the hands holding him but instead raises his arms and moves in time to the music.
"Has anyone ever told you how completely adorable you are?"
Even in the flashing lights, Lance's embarrassment is apparent. "Nah, not me. I'm just a big dork."
"Sweet, too. What a combination."
Lance laughs, embarrassed at the attention lavished on him but thrilled all the same. The way this guy looks at him is so different from the way the screaming fans treat him. It's refreshing. And exciting.
"You looking to meet someone?"
"Um, I think I just did."
"And smart. I think I hit the jackpot."
"Me too." Lance can't believe he just said that, but he's curious to see how far this game will go.
"You want to . . . ?" The stranger inclines his head away from the dance floor, still holding Lance by the waist. Not wanting to seem rude and still interested to see how far he'll take this, Lance hesitates only a moment before glancing around and nodding.
Slipping his arm around Lance's waist, the taller man leads him to yet another dim alcove.
Even in his hazy, alcohol induced state, Lance notices other couples making out in dark corners and doing . . . other things. It's not like he hasn't been to some . . . racy clubs before, but now he's one of the people he normally considers a bit too on the edge for his taste.
They settle onto a couch in the darkness, the stranger pulling Lance almost gently against his side. "This okay?"
"It's great." Lance shifts slightly; he's used to being touched all the time, by stylists, assistants, tour handlers, but this is different. This is . . . sexual.
"If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to DO anything."
"No, I'm okay. Really."
"I'd offer you another drink, but I think maybe you've had enough." Taking Lance's face in his hands, he says "Man, you're beautiful."
"I think YOU'RE the one who's had too much to drink," Lance says with a giggle.
"Oh, you think so, do you?"
"Uh huh. You're saying all kinds of crazy things."
"So why don't you say some crazy things. Like what would you like me to do to you?"
Lance's eyes widen. This guy is so bold! "Um, me? Oh, wow, um . . . what do you want to do?"
"Left to my own devices, I'd throw you down on this couch and have my way with you. But I get the feeling that would be a little extreme for you."
Taken aback by the implication that he's anything less than daring, Lance leans back on the couch and retorts, "What makes you say that?"
"Just an instinct. But hey . . . " spreading his arms wide. "Feel free to prove me wrong."
Lance lays back. "Go for it."
Lance looks so delectable and yet so vulnerable to the stranger. Instead of launching himself on the smaller man, his companion bends over him to claim his mouth, letting his body only gradually press Lance into the couch.
Breathing heavily, Lance opens his mouth to accept the stranger's kiss--so foreign, so different . . . from JC. His boyfriend. He's kissing someone else. "Wait," Lance exclaims, pulling away. "I don't even know your name."
"Jack. You?"
"Um . . . Kevin."
"Yeah, you look like a Kevin," Jack murmurs, pressing his lips to Lance's mouth again and rubbing the length of his body against Lance.
The stiffness in his crotch is not something Lance can control. But it's not JC eliciting this response from him, it's a stranger. Someone Who Is Not JC. So Lance immediately feels guilt creep up through his toes to his heart. What is he doing? Why is he doing this? Because they've been seeing each other for three years? Because there's no thrill left? No, that's not true. Every minute he's with JC is a thrill. Every kiss, every touch, every . . . but this is not JC touching him, it's a stranger, and yet Lance can't stop.
Jack slips to his knees in front of Lance and reaches immediately for Lance's waistband, flicking open the button and lowering the zipper with practiced ease. From what he felt pressing against him, he knows there's an impressive erection and he licks his lips in anticipation as he releases it from the constricting clothing.
The part of Lance's brain still functioning wonders when JC is going to burst in and stop this. His heart racing, he opens his mouth to speak but no words come out because he's EXCITED. He's undeniably excited to be doing this.
Jack looks up at Lance, his expressive, dark eyes glittering, before turning his attention to Lance's erection again. "Beautiful," he says again, before flicking his tongue around the head.
That touch is all it takes to bring Lance back to awareness. Placing his hands on Jack's shoulders, he moves as far back as he can and stammers, "Wait . . . stop . . . I'm sorry . . . I can't do this."
"You don't have to do anything. I'll take care of everything."
Lance brings his hands to his crotch, covering himself and trying his best to close his pants. "No, I mean, um, I can't do this with you."
Jack sinks back on his heels. "Not my night, is it?" He sighs, adjusts himself, then pushes Lance's fumbling hands away and zips him up himself.
"Want to tell me about it?"
Sighing, Lance sits up and looks around. "Um, I'm sort of seeing someone. No, not sort of. I am seeing someone."
"If you're here, you must be looking for something."
"I guess I just wanted to have some fun. See what it was all about, you know?"
"So, your boyfriend doesn't give you that? Or it's not a boyfriend-- it's a girlfriend but you've always been curious about what it would be like with a guy?"
Lance chuckles nervously. "No, I'm definitely gay. We've been going out for a few years and it's been great. It's just that lately . . . I've been thinking about what it would be like to be with someone else. That sounds terrible."
"We're guys, Kevin. We're built that way."
At first Lance looks at Jack quizzically, then remembers that Kevin is the name he's using. "I shouldn't be looking for anything else, though. I have what I want in J-- my boyfriend."
"If that's true, then you shouldn't mess it up. If it's not . . . well, I met a guy earlier who'd be perfect for you."
Who could be more perfect than JC? And why did it take this for Lance to realize that? "No, that's okay. I . . . love my boyfriend. I was stupid to do this, and I truly am sorry. And you're right--I shouldn't mess it up. He deserves better than this."
"One more thing. If you're sure of that, don't do this. You lucked out because I'm a pretty nice guy. But there are guys in here--and everywhere--who'd beat you up, or worse, for doing what you did tonight."
Feeling more ashamed than when he came in here with Jack, Lance lowers his head and fidgets with his hands. "I know. This was so stupid of me and I'm really sorry. I wish there was some way I could make it up to you." All Lance wants to do right now is find JC and get out of here. He suddenly feels like he doesn't belong here anymore.
"It's okay, kid. Just be careful, okay? Now let's go find that boyfriend of yours." Lance feels about twelve as he follows Jack out of the dark recess and into the noise of the main room. He searches desperately for JC, above the din of music, the flashing lights, the sweaty bodies pushing this way and that. Finally, he spots the object of his desire by the bar. And desire he does. Just the way JC leans on the bar, bouncing lightly to the beat of the music, hair dripping with sweat, muscles bulging in his clingy tank top, is enough to arouse Lance again. He turns to Jack. "Listen, thanks for being so cool about everything. I've learned my lesson. No more cruising for me."
"Good." Jack shakes his head regretfully. "You're still the most beautiful thing in here. Hey, there's that guy I was going to introduce you to."
"J--, um, him? Yeah, he's pretty hot. Maybe I'll just go over and say hi."
Jack laughs. "That's your boyfriend, isn't it? Figures. You're perfect for each other."
"We are? You can tell that just by looking at him?"
"I told you. I met him earlier. He couldn't cheat on you, either."
Lance pulls Jack into a man-hug. "Thank you. You know, if I wasn't with . . . "
"Yeah, sure. Now go get your boy."
Lance releases Jack and practically leaps across the dance floor to get to JC, not an easy feat with all the gyrating going on around him. Lance ignores the stares and stops when he nears the bar. He runs a hand through his hair and approaches JC from behind. Maybe a little mystery, a little excitement, a little . . . newness . . . is what they need. "Excuse me, you look really familiar. Have I seen you here before?"
JC spins around . "No, um, I'm just in town for the night. "
"Oh. That's too bad, because I'd love to take you out. Can I at least buy you a drink?"
"I'd like that."
"Let me guess--gin and tonic?"
"How'd you know?"
"Sexy guys drink gin and tonics."
"So, is that what you're drinking? Because you sure are sexy . . . um . . . what did you say your name was?"
"It's . . . Lance. And, um, I'm more of a Jack and Coke kinda guy. You know, a dorky drink."
Before they can order their drinks, the bartender brings them over. "From the guy down the end of the bar." They both turn to look, but he's already gone.
"So, um, no. That's not dorky at all. You're not dorky at all."
Lance gazes at JC's eyes. "What's your name?"
"JC. What do you say we finish these drinks and get out of here? This . . . this is no place for a boy like you."
"Like me? Why not?"
"You're not one of these fake people. You're someone I could fall in love with."
"Just like that? Without even knowing me?"
"You don't believe in love at first sight?"
"Sure, I believe in it, but it's never happened to me. Usually, I have to get to know the person better."
"Best way to do that is to spend some time together, right?"
Lance nods. "You said something about getting out of here?"
"Yeah. Let's go." JC holds his hand out to Lance."
Lance takes JC's hand, so familiar and comforting. "Um, where do you want to go."
"Your place?"
"Wow, yeah, I guess. It's a little messy, though."
"I don't mind. I like messy."
Lance grins, already anticipating the mess to come. "Then I think you'll really like my place. Can you do me one favor, though?" He reaches into the front pocket of his leather pants. "Um, I don't think I could drive right now, so do you think you could? I don't usually let strangers drive my truck, but you look like you'd be a good driver."
"I think I can handle that." JC holds out his hand for the keys. "I hope you give good directions."
"I can manage that." They work their way through the crowd and when they exit the club, Lance immediately feels the familiar thrum in his ears from being exposed to loud music. But the night air feels good on his face, and he feels energized. They quickly locate Lance's 4-Runner, and Lance climbs in the passenger seat. As JC drives, Lance studies his lover's face as though for the first time. JC drives with such ease. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you'd been to my place before."
"I think I've got intuition as far as you're concerned."
It's not long before they pass through the gate to Lance's house. They've been playing the charade so well that Lance almost feels like he has to explain himself. When JC parks the car, Lance takes a deep breath. "I just want you to know I don't normally bring strange men home like this."
"Then why me?"
"I feel like I can trust you."
JC takes Lance's hand. "I hope I can live up to that."
"I let you drive my truck and you didn't crash it."
JC leans over and unbuckles Lance's seatbelt. "So, if I kissed you now . . . " JC places the lightest of kisses on Lance's lips. "You wouldn't break?"
"Mmmm, no," Lance murmurs into JC's mouth. It's like being kissed by cotton or by air itself, it's so gentle.
JC makes the kiss a little less ethereal, a little more definite. It feels good, right, cleansing to be kissing Lance again.
As much as Lance is relieved to be kissing JC, he also feels a stab of guilt that he ever wanted to kiss someone else. How could he ever have thought that? How could he ever want anything other than what's here in front of him?
JC can practically feel the thought go through Lance. Stepping out of his role, he whispers, "It's okay. We were, like, different people tonight."
"Yeah, I was, like, Evil Lance. I don't know what got into me."
"Three-year itch? Whatever. When we walk into the house, it's done. Anything that happened tonight we write off as insanity. Deal?"
Lance holds out his hand, relieved that JC is so willing to forget about this night. "Deal."
"Good. Can we go in, now? I missed my boyfriend all night."
"Oh, is he here?"
"He will be."
"I'd like to meet him. Let's go inside."
Lance leads the way, swinging the door open and punching in the security code. "There. Now you're safe."
"Now I'm home."
Lance wraps his arms around JC's waist and hugs him tightly, his head resting on JC's shoulder as he rocks gently.
"Hey," JC says softly. "You still get Showtime West? We've got time to make popcorn before Queer as Folk comes on."
Lance raises his head. "I think we can skip that. That show has gotten me in enough trouble."
"Can I still have popcorn?"
Playfully pushing JC away, Lance replies, "You can have the whole bowl. Go on, make yourself comfortable." Lance heads to the kitchen to get sodas and get the popcorn going in the microwave.
"I'm gonna make a fire, okay?" JC calls out.
"That sounds great," Lance yells back. By the time he returns to the living room, JC has a blazing fire going. Lance grabs throw blanket from a nearby chair and puts the bowl of popcorn on the floor, beckoning JC to join him.
"This is nice," JC says, settling down next to Lance and munching on a handful of popcorn.
Lance lays his head on JC's shoulder. "_This is nice. This is all I need."