Forever Young: Tattoo You
by Karen and LB
© 2002
Number 21 in the series.
"Woo HOO! Yes!" Justin runs down the otherwise quiet hotel hallway and pounds on two doors. He's greeted by some very cranky looking fellow band members, who had just settled in after a particularly grueling day. "Band meeting in my mom's room," Justin calls over his shoulder, as he jogs back to her door. When the guys, in various stages of alertness, drag themselves into Lynn's room, she offers them soda and juice, much to Justin's chagrin. He's hopping up and down in his eagerness to share the news. When everyone's finally settled with a mug or a glass, Justin glances at his mother, who nods back, smiling. "My mom just got off the phone with Lou. We're platinum!" The guys stare. "PLATINUM!" he crows. Lynn fills in the details--that it's here in Canada that the album has reached that milestone, but the guys are too busy jumping around and hugging to hear her.
Platinum. The word reverberates in Lance's head even as he's jumping up and down with the rest of the guys. He always knew they were good, but this just feels like it's somehow...validated.
"We gotta celebrate," Joey declares. "C'mon."
"Yeah!" Chris agrees. "Uh, Lynn, it's like, a big day, okay?"
Lynn knows when to make exceptions to the rules, so she nods her head and shoos them out of the room. "Just don't stay out too late."
In the hall, Joey stops. "Man, I wanna mark this occasion. I'm getting another tattoo."
"Hey, that's a great idea! Let's do it, dude!" Chris claps Joey on the back.
"I'm in," says Justin. He's had pierced ears for years, so getting a tattoo is no big deal.
"Me too." When Lance speaks, everyone turns to stare at him.
"No! WAY!" Joey cries.
"COOL!" Justin exclaims.
JC just stares.
"Yeah, well, we're brothers, right? And it would be really cool if we all got tattoos."
JC studies the carpet. He hates to be the killjoy, but no way is anyone sticking a needle in him. No WAY. "Um, sorry guys. Count me out."
Lance walks up to JC, his boyfriend, the boy he LOVES. "JC, c'mon, it'll be okay. It doesn't hurt. Right, Joe?"
Joey snickers. "Yeah, right. Not too much."
Lance shoots him a look. "Okay, so maybe it hurts a little, but wouldn't it be great if we all got like the same tattoos?"
"Yeah, it would be. But I can't." JC looks into Lance's eyes, willing him to understand. "I just CAN'T."
"Josh, I'll be right there with you. You can hold my hand and everything."
"Lance, please don't push me on this. If I could, I would. But I'm telling you I can't handle this."
Disappointed, but understanding how serious this is to Josh, Lance puts his hand on JC's arm. "It's okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--I just wanted us to do something together."
JC manages a smile. "I know. And you guys still should."
"Are you sure? I hate leaving you like this."
"Yo, Lance, you coming or what?" Joey calls from the end of the hall. "Then don't. Ask me to come with you."
"You...want to come? And watch? What about the needles?"
"I never said I'd watch."
Lance punches him on the arm playfully, then takes his hand. "Then c'mon-- you can watch ME." He pulls JC toward the elevator and soon the boys are off, in the middle of the night, in Toronto, in search of a tattoo parlor.
JC takes in big gulps of the cool night air. "I can do this," he repeats to himself. "I can do this."
Toronto, like NY, has a pulse all its own when the lights go down. There are plenty of people out in this part of town, and as they cross the street a large, green Cadillac convertible passes them. Joey whistles, exclaiming, "Sweet. I'm gonna have one of those someday."
"Sooner than you think, Joe, my man," Chris says, throwing his arm across his friend's shoulder. "We're pla-tin-um!"
Lance grins, shaking his head. "I'd be happy just to have a 4-Runner."
"Have I told you lately how cute you are?" JC asks as he glances at the clock on what looks like a library but later turns out to be a police station.
"You won't think so after I have a big NEEDLE stuck in me," Lance teases.
"I'm going back to the hotel if you don't cut it out."
"Okay, okay. I'll be good." They're at the door of the shop; Lance pauses before following in Justin, Joey, and Chris. "Are you sure you want to be here?"
"I want to be where you are." Lance smiles and throws his arm around JC as they enter the small shop. He'd endure a thousand needles for this boy.
*****
"Okay, so it hurt a little," Lance admits, on their way back to the hotel, walking with one sock stuffed in his pocket.
JC grins, very proud of the fact that he didn't run, scream or faint. "A little? And the fact that you're limping?"
"I-I'm not limping. My foot's tired."
"Uh huh. Just the one foot."
"Yeah. You know, being propped up like that for so long."
"Shouldn't it be more rested?"
Lance bites his lip and nods. "Yes."
"Aw, baby, I'm sorry. Want me to carry you?"
Blushing, Lance shakes his head. "No, but could I lean on you?"
"Of course you can."
Lance throws his arm around JC's shoulder, not for companionship this time, but for support. His ankle hurts more than he'll admit and he's glad JC did come along. "Thanks. I mean, I'm fine. Really. I just want to put it up."
"We're almost there." JC slips his arm around Lance's waist, thankful for the darkness that allows them this closeness.
"You're loving this, aren't you? Seeing me in pain like this."
"No. I never want to see you in pain."
"Admit it--you liked watching us get stuck."
"I couldn't watch. I was just there for moral support."
"And I appreciate that. This was supposed to be a group thing, and just having you there meant a lot."
"Sorry I couldn't make it a REAL group thing."
"Just cause you didn't get marked for life doesn't mean it wasn't a real group thing."
"If it had been anything else, I would have been there."
"Nipple piercing?"
"Anything that doesn't involve needles."
They're in the elevator now, and Lance leans against the back wall, letting out a sigh of relief at not having to walk anymore. He's sure Joey is laughing at him right now, but he doesn't care. He's glad he did it, glad he did something to mark forever this milestone in their careers.
As the other guys disappear into their rooms, JC scoops Lance up in his arms and carries him the rest of the way to their door.
"JC," Lance protests, "I can walk."
"I know you can. Think of this as my contribution to the group thing." When they get inside JC puts Lance down gently. "Do you want some ice?"
"Yeah. I think that would help." Lance puts a hand on JC's arm. "Thanks. For taking care of me. Even when I do stupid things like this."
"Who said it was stupid?" JC brushes his lips against Lance's cheek. "You're way braver than I am. Get comfortable. I'll go get some ice." Lance removes his shoes, rolls up his pant leg, and carefully unwraps the loose gauze bandage. It's a little bloody and very red, but the design is visible and Lance admires the artwork.
JC comes back in with the ice, "Oh, can I see?"
Lance turns his leg out, wincing slightly. "What do you think? It's kind of gross right now."
JC looks at Lance's ankle, then quickly away. "I didn't know it would bleed."
Lance quickly pulls it away, knowing how JC feels about needles and blood. "Sorry. I didn't realize it would look like this either."
"It's okay. Really. I just--don't like to think about you doing something that hurt you."
"It only hurt a little. Okay, maybe a little more than a little. But it was my choice. I didn't have to."
"Yeah, I know. So what can I do to help? You ready for the ice?"
"Yeah. I'm also supposed to put some of this," Lance says, reaching into his pocket for a small tube of neosporin, "on it."
"I can do that. I should, um, wash my hands." JC goes into the bathroom and washes his hands, staring himself down in the mirror, repeating "I can handle this" like a mantra. He picks up a towel to wrap the ice in and goes back to sit on the bed.
"So, Dr.. Chasez, am I gonna live?"
"I think so." JC manages a grin. "Um, maybe you should take your pants off. So you don't have to disturb it after we get it wrapped up again."
"Oh, yeah, good idea." Lance sits on the edge of the bed and wriggles his pants down, then carefully pulls them off his feet making sure not to touch the tattoo. He tosses the pants aside and lays back on his elbows.
JC smiles up at the younger boy and runs one hand up his right leg. "Gee, that was easy." He stops. "Sorry, just teasing." He carefully lifts the left foot into his lap and as gently as he can, smears a thin layer of the antibiotic cream on the newly decorated flesh. "Okay?"
Lance flinches but tries to keep his foot still. It wasn't so bad when he unwrapped the gauze and just looked at it, but having someone touch it isn't all that pleasant. "Um, yeah. Ow. Ow. Ow."
"Sorry. I'm done. Hand me the gauze and I'll wrap it."
Lance tosses the gauze to JC and flops back on the mattress. "You're really good at this. You could have a second career as a nurse. You could be a singing nurse!"
"You're delirious with pain, aren't you?"
"That must be it. You do have a gentle touch though. There's no one else I'd let put that stuff on me. Except my mom."
"Speaking of your mom," JC says as he carefully wraps the gauze around Lance's ankle, then ties it off. "Is she gonna flip when she finds out?"
"Shit, I wasn't even thinking of that. She'll just roll her eyes. She said when I turned 18 that I'm on my own now and can make my own decisions. I know she won't be thrilled with it, but it's only a tattoo. She knows there's a lot of worse things we could be doing."
"Yeah, there sure are." JC props Lance's foot on a pillow and settles the towel-wrapped ice next to it. "How's that?"
"Much better." Lance sighs. "I'm just glad I decided to do the ankle and not my butt."
JC falls down on the bed next to Lance, giggling. "Yeah, me too. Very glad."
"You'd love it. You'd love to see my butt hanging out there with a big ol' tattoo splattered all over it. A big heart with JC smack in the middle."
"As attractive as that might be, I don't think I could keep my hands off your butt long enough to let it heal."
"Would you kiss it and make it better?"
"You know I would."
"I told you you're good at this nursing thing."
JC yawns and settles his head on Lance's chest. "Only for you."
Lance plays with JC's hair, content to have this warm body so close to him. "Really? So I guess Justin's gonna have to deal with his own ankle?"
"He's on his own." JC snuggles closer. "You warm enough? You want to get under the covers?"
Lance shakes his head. "I'm fine. Really." He lifts his arm and pulls JC close. "I'm just really, really tired." He kisses the top of JC's head and says quietly, "Thanks for taking care of me, Josh."
"Any time, baby," JC manages, before he drifts off to sleep.
Morning comes too soon for all the guys, but no one really minds too much. For the next several days, no matter how demanding their days, how late their nights, no matter how hard they work, they just stop now and then and grin with the knowledge of the tangible proof that their dreams are coming true.
One week later, they're meeting to discuss upcoming appearances. Lance is seated on the couch, and he unconsciously touches his ankle, now healed, and the simple yet significant design permanently etched on his skin. Platinum. One week later and the word still sounds like music in his head. He glances over at JC and smiles.
JC misses neither the smile nor the gesture. After that first night, Lance had decided that he shouldn't see the tattoo again until it was properly healed. Consequently, it's become a source of fascination for JC.
Lance keeps his hand over the mark, grinning devilishly, knowing JC is curious. He'd been really careful all day, not letting JC even glimpse the tattoo.
"So you guys ready for wardrobe?" Johnny's voice interrupts Lance's thoughts, and his head snaps forward.
"Yeah, that sounds great," says Lance, along with the other guys.
Wardrobe, JC thinks. Getting undressed. Suddenly he wonders if there isn't something seriously wrong with him that right now he's more interested in seeing Lance's ankle than other portions of him.
They head over to the stylist's warehouse, where there are racks of clothes for them to choose from. They're shown a few suggested pieces, then let loose among the racks to pick out their own individual looks.
Joey wanders over to a rack of hats and starts striking various poses. Justin zeroes in on anything baby blue and starts piling them over the back of a chair. Lance gravitates toward the brighter colors, and holds up a pair of baggy parachute pants.
"What do you think?" he asks JC.
"There's enough material for three of you."
Lance smirks and tosses the pants at JC, then resumes his search. "What about these?" This time, he selects a pair of studded dark blue jeans.
"Nice. Why don't you, um, try them on?"
Glancing around to make sure everyone else is occupied--this is one aspect of their lives that Lance just can't seem to get used, the whole changing in front of a roomful of people thing--Lance looks back at the pants, then at JC. "Oh. Okay. Sure." He kicks off his sneakers, loosens his belt, and drops his pants, relieved that he's wearing boxers and not briefs today. He starts to slip one foot into the jeans and notices his white sock pulled high.
"Those socks really don't go with those jeans..."
"White socks go with everything."
"Are you even gonna let me see it?"
"See what? My sock?"
"You know what."
"You want me to pull it out right here?"
JC rolls his eyes. "Fine. Play your little games." He moves away to examine a rack of sleeveless shirts.
"Ohhhhh, you're talking about the tattoo." Lance sits on the floor. "Come here."
JC walks back over and squats in front of Lance. Lance peels off his sock and holds out the ankle. "Well?"
JC's eyes widen. "That is SO cool." He hand reaches out of its own volition. "Can I...?"
Smiling, Lance nods, like a little boy with a new baseball card that he's dying to show his best friend. "I like how it goes almost all the way around."
"Yeah," JC breathes. He's stroking the skin, which feels--normal. He's not sure what he expected, but it's just--Lance. A Lance who's forever different than he was a week ago, but Lance all the same.
The cool hand on his skin feels so good, but Lance has to ask. "Does it...does it bother you at all? I mean, even a little?"
"No!" JC is emphatic. "I have no problem with tattoos, I just don't want one. And if there was a way to get one without needles, I probably would."
"So you don't think it's stupid?" Lance looks down at the design, the black flame wrapped around his ankle.
"Nope, I think it's sexy."
"Really? It is cool. It's something that I'll have to remember this time in our lives forever. Hey, you could get a temporary one."
"That kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"
"Yeah." Lance sighs, wishing there was some way they could share this. "It's not like anyone's gonna see it a lot anyway."
"I'll see it."
"You can see it anytime you want."
"Like tonight? Can I...lick it?"
Lance leans close. "That would feel a lot better than the needle did."
"That's the idea." JC leans even closer, intent on capturing Lance's mouth.
"Lance! JC? Where ARE you guys?
JC sighs. "Joey has the worst timing I've ever heard of."
"It's like he has kissing radar or something."
"Check this out. It's sort of like a cape." To demonstrate, Joey flies right past them.
They both crack up. "Man," JC says. "You think if we keep hanging out with him, we'll get that weird?"
"Too late."
"Speak for yourself, Poofu."
"That was a long time ago. On the other hand...Now it's time to say goodbye, to all our company..."
"Now, that's just cruel."
"You gotta fight fire with fire. Besides, you were so cute on that show."
"I was a big goofball."
"No way--you were so cute. And what a voice!"
JC blushes. "You thought I was cute even back then?"
Lance looks down and shrugs. "Um, yeah."
JC smiles. "We were so meant to be together.".
Lance wraps a hand around his ankle and looks up at JC. "You think?"
JC covers Lance's hand with his own. "I know."
Lance leans forward again, closes his eyes, and just as they're about to kiss, Joey flies by again. "I'm SUUUUUUUUUUPERMAN!" Lance shakes his head, smiling yet exasperated. "I guess we're gonna have to put this off till later."
"You think this is how our parents felt when we were kids?"
"If this is what it's like when you have kids, I'm hiring a live-in nanny."
"Sounds like a plan."
"I've got another plan." He rises, pulling JC with him, and starts grabbing clothes off the racks. He leads JC toward a door, and just as they're about to leave, Justin calls out from behind.
"Hey, where you guys going?"
Lance looks over his shoulder and answers, "The lighting in the dressing room is better. I can't tell whether these are black or blue."
"Whatever, dude."
JC drops the clothes he's carrying onto a chair. "Alone at last," he grins.
"For a while at least." Suddenly, Lance realizes he's not wearing any pants. "Oh my goodness, I left my pants in there."
"Are you planning on needing them?"
"Give me a reason."
"I'd rather give you a reason not to."
"Like what?"
JC pushes Lance into a chair. "Like this." He lifts Lance's left foot with both hands and slowly, painstakingly, traces the tattooed flesh with his tongue.
Lance grips the arms of the chair and nearly sinks right into the cushion. "You...weren't...kidding," he moans.
JC looks up. "But is it a good reason?"
"The best reason. You keep doing that I'll never put my pants on again."
"Then I'll have to keep doing this." JC traces the design with his tongue again, then pauses. "It's all healed, right? I'm not hurting you?"
"No! In fact, it's never felt better."
"Good. Let's see what else I can make feel better..." As JC resumes his exploration, he runs one hand lightly up the inside of Lance's leg and his fingers tease at the hem of Lance's boxers.
"Um, that's feeling much, much better. Oh boy, does it feel better." Lance blushes at the sight of growing bulge inside the loose shorts as he struggles to hold still.
JC smiles against Lance's leg as he settles his hand against that bulge, working it into a larger one.
Lance bites his lip to keep from making noises that will draw curious spectators from the room next door. His hips pulse in a small movement against the caressing hand, his heart beating wildly.
JC begins working his way up Lance's leg, kiss by kiss. He slips his hand into the opening in Lance's shorts, closing his hand around the heated flesh within.
Lance throws his head against the back of the chair, glad that it's one of those big, comfy, cushioned chairs. Right now, he's incapable of coherent thought, however, because JC's hand and lips and his very presence are driving him wild.
JC takes his time making his way up Lance's leg, as his hand makes Lance squirm against the chair. When he reaches Lance's crotch, he slips down the boxers and replaces his hand with his mouth. "Oh, Josh!" Lance cries out, then quickly covers his mouth with his hand. His legs are splayed and he slides lower down in the chair, and he reaches out to cradle JC's head.
JC's tongue traces over the shape of Lance's erection as it had the shape of his tattoo. He covers every inch, as if exploring it for the first time, then takes the throbbing organ into his mouth. Lance bangs his head against the back of the chair, moaning quietly. "Josh, Josh, Josh," he murmurs in ecstasy.
JC brings his hand up to fondle Lance's balls as he continues to move over Lance, his tongue and lips always moving. Lance just smells so good, tastes so good, sounds so good.
Lance's breath comes in quick gasps; he looks down to see JC, his lover, his best friend, working magic on his body, and it's with an enormous wave of love that he comes, his back arching and his hands entangled in JC's sleek, dark hair.
JC waits till Lance is done, then releases him. He rests his head against Lance's thigh and smiles up at him, sweetly.
Lance caresses JC's head, panting softly. "Did I tell you about the other tattoo I'm getting?"