Zero Gravity
by Karen and LB
© 2003
This is another piece we wrote back when we still thought Lance was going to space last October.
*****
The world is full of beautiful people. Beautiful boys, beautiful girls. And it seems like each and every one of them is being dangled in front of JC Chasez this summer. This long, hot, drifting summer. It feels like--it is, the first summer off of his life. So the workaholic floats aimlessly, drifting from one playground of the rich and beautiful to another, letting the parade of hot, available bodies and a hazy cloud of alcohol blot out, if only for a time, the knowledge that an even hotter, more beautiful boy is working his heart out halfway around the world.
JC, when he allows himself to think, is lonely, terribly lonely. He's never been alone like this. He's always had the surrounding, cocooning warmth of the guys around him, nearby, a phone call away. And Lance. Always Lance. Lance inside his heart and head, now at the other end of a too-often scratchy and echoing international phone line. Words that should be whispered intimacies becoming frustrated shouts.
So he goes where he's invited, and puts on a facade of good cheer, until the drinks kick in, and it's a facade no more. And he lets himself be surrounded by the aching, ephemeral beauty of youth, the polished, hollow perfection that's as much of a facade as any protective shell he has erected.
The first time it happens, the first time he takes one of the vapid but lovely models--and they're all "models" even if they've never been photographed in their brief but much talked about careers--home, he's filled with guilt afterwards. He swears to himself that it will never happen again. But the next night, there's another girl, even thinner than himself, and alcohol and the hot press of grinding bodies on the dance floor. And again his body leads and his mind and heart go on pause.
He tells himself that the girls don't count. That he's not really cheating on his boyfriend when he sleeps with women. The words soak into his conscience with the alcohol, letting him believe. Letting him say the right words of loneliness and longing into the phone, into Lance's ear, even when whichever beautiful and interchangeable body he's brought home with him is still wrapped around him in whatever bed he's calling his this night, this weekend, this week is still there. It becomes a twisted little game to him, letting them touch and fondle and even suck him while he coos into the phone to his boyfriend. He hates himself afterwards for his weakness and deception. He promises himself the next night will be different. He'll sleep alone and find a way to atone. But the next night is inevitably the same.
*****
The weeks have flown by. He's almost never alone, except late at night in the hotel room, after hours of training and language lessons and reading and working out and meetings. And still, things are so up in the air. In the air, where Lance so badly wants to be. He wants it so bad he'd do almost anything at this point. He'd sell his houses, his cars, every piece of jewelry he owns. Just for the chance to gaze down on the earth and see its beauty from the heavens. To touch the stars. To fly.
It's these thoughts that lull him to sleep at times when he misses his family and friends, and especially JC. He knew the separation would be hard, he just didn't anticipate the loneliness he'd feel. He'd count the days until he could be back in the states, in Houston, where he'll train some more and where he'll see his family again. And JC promised to be there. During one of the few online correspondences they had, JC promised to be in Houston. Lance worried about JC, worried about how he was occupying his time. If he wasn't kept busy, Lance knew JC would fall into couch potato mode, spending his nights moping around the house. And with Joey in New York, he wondered how JC was keeping busy. He'd told Lance about some movie premieres and nights with Justin in LA, but the emails were always brief. He hoped whatever JC was doing, he was happy.
So as he packs for the trip back home, Lance imagines their reunion, what it will feel like to hold JC in his arms again, to be held again and kissed, if only for a short while.
*****
The night finally comes when it's a boy who catches JC's eye instead of a girl. He's fought it, as it would be the final betrayal, but he'd been drinking too much, as he usually did these nights, and a boy walks by with just the right build and spiky dark-blond hair and JC is lost.
They're out of the club less than 20 minutes later. JC doesn't want to waste time on small talk. The boy's voice is all wrong for one thing, and it ruins the illusion that his alcohol-soaked brain is trying so hard to construct.
JC drives home quickly and surprisingly competently given his state of inebriation. He hustles the boy inside and into his bedroom, stumbling through dark room and lighting only a candle in the bedroom, the better to sustain the chimerical vision he's trying so desperately to hold on to.
The boy asks for a drink, and JC wanders through his darkened house to the bar and manages to mix two, not spilling too much as he retraces his steps. He drinks deeply then practically falls on the boy. Stephen, he's told JC, but JC pushes that out of his befuddled mind, as he ignores how Stephen doesn't taste like Lance, how his skin is not as smooth. He's beautiful, though, and his passing resemblance to Lance is enough to arouse JC.
The next morning, JC remembers only flashes. He remembers turning Stephen away from him, but not sliding into him. He remembers bringing the boy off, but not his own orgasm. And he remembers asking him to leave. Apologetically, and pressing way too much money for cab fare into hands that weren't as fine- fingered as Lance's.
As he stumbles to the bathroom, JC notes with relief the spent and crumpled condom lying near the wastebasket. The one thing he's always managed to remember in this madness. The one omission that would be unforgivable.
JC turns the water up so hot that it stings his skin. It feels right. Punishing. What was he thinking a moment ago--that one thing was unforgivable? The whole thing is unforgivable, and he knows it. He scrubs at his skin with a wash cloth, reddening it even more than the water does, as if he could scour away his unfaithfullness.
Climbing out of the shower, JC catches sight of himself in the mirror. He looks dreadful. Hollow eyed and almost haunted. He picks up his razor and then flings it into the sink. He doesn't deserve to be comfortable. And he doesn't need to look good. He just needs to figure out how he can be honest with Lance and still keep him.
This time, when he promises himself he'll stop, he does it.
*****
The trip here was just a blur in Lance's mind. Airports, customs, being whisked from one place to the next. A seat comfortable enough to sleep in but too much to think about to really get any quality sleep. People who spoke English, smiling and serving him food and beverages.
The reunion in the Houston airport is so sweet even the cameramen can't help but smile. Diane holds Lance tightly for what seems like hours, afraid if she lets go he'll vanish. His mother concerned about his weight, his father concerned about the paperwork. Another long drive in the hot Texas sun. More people, more new faces, more hand-shaking. But through it all is the comfort of his family close by and the knowledge that the one dear to his heart would soon be here.
*****
JC is uncharacteristically wide awake for the trip to Houston. Brooding. He knows his behavior was inexcusable, and he's been castigating himself for weeks now. Since that night with Stephen, he'd pulled into himself, letting Justin or other friends drag him out from time to time, and still drinking too much, but always going home alone.
The face greeting him in the mirror is even thinner than usual, hidden by a fuller beard than he's ever worn before. He wears his scruffiness like penance.
JC knows he doesn't deserve Lance, or Lance's forgiveness. If he could stay away, he would. But he needs to see Lance. Needs to feel alive and human again at least one more time, before he comes clean. Before he loses the only thing worth having.
And so he presents himself at Lance's doorstep. Worn, scruffy, and contrite.
*****
When JC arrives, Lance is still in the simulator, so Diane whisks him away from some coffee and a tour of the building they're in. Lance isn't told of JC's arrival until he's completed his circuit so he can stay focused on his tasks. But when he's finally allowed a break he hurries to the waiting area and flings open the door. His eyes crinkle into a smile; now he feels complete. He opens his arms wide as he approaches his boyfriend. "JC!"
JC allows himself to be hugged, and slowly his arms creep up around Lance as well. He feels like a liar, a cheat. And he feels a surge of undeserved joy, too, at finally seeing, touching the boy he loves. He holds on for a long time, long enough to control the tears threatening behind his eyelids.
"I like the beard," Lance whispers in JC's ear.
JC smiles sadly, but Lance can't see it. "You do? I thought you'd order me into a room with a razor."
"It could stand a trim," Lance says with a grin. "Seriously, you look good, dude."
"And you look . . . I don't have words for how great you look."
Lance pulls back, blushing, aware of the cameras focused on them as he'd been aware of them for weeks. He almost can't remember a time when he wasn't being followed around by a camera. He clears his throat, then puts an arm around JC as they pose for the requisite publicity pictures. "So, um, we're gonna take a tour and you'll get to play with some of the cool stuff they have here, and then we'll have dinner with my parents."
"Yeah, that's great, " JC says, the relief almost palpable. The longer they do this stuff the longer he can postpone his confession.
They're never alone. Lance watches, delighted, as JC is given a demonstration in one of the simulators, and talks enthusiastically about all the things he's done so far. Lance is pulled away to finish some of the day's training, but he knows JC is in good hands with Jeffrey and his parents. When he's finally released for dinner, he quickly changes from his training gear to street clothes. He's so happy to be back on his home soil he can hardly contain himself. And to have his parents AND JC here makes it all . . . wonderful.
JC can actually feel himself coming alive again, feeling again. For the first time in weeks, he hasn't felt the need of a drink in his hand. Every time Lance smiles at him, he feels a rush of joy. Until the shame kicks in.
Lance has arranged a private room in a nearby restaurant, and with his family around him and his boyfriend next to him, he's beaming. JC is normally not the most talkative of the boys, but now he's more quiet than usual. Lance reads it as JC's needing time to adjust to seeing him again.
After dinner, Lance escorts everyone back to the hotel. He'll need to return to the JSC, but he wants--no needs--a few hours alone with JC. He says good night to his parents, who understand Lance's desire to be alone with JC, and they comply knowing they'll see their son again tomorrow.
Now, there are no cameras, and security has kindly left Lance alone with his friend and family. Lance escorts JC down the hall to his room. "We have till midnight," Lance declares.
"Oh, um, that's good," JC says, nervously.
"Hey," Lance says, stopping in front of the door to JC's room. "Are you okay?"
"We...we need to talk."
Lance's stomach sinks. The words every partner dreads hearing, and they just flew out of JC's mouth like asteroids hurtling to Earth. "Let's go inside."
"Yeah." JC walks slowly inside, trying to prolong the inevitable. He looks longingly for a moment at the minibar, then away. He owes it to Lance to discuss this soberly. "Come here," he says softly, leading Lance to the couch. "You know I love you. I always have and I always will."
Lance forces a smile. "You're scaring me."
"I'm sorry. But it's true. And I didn't mean . . . I would never hurt you . . . but I ... but I am, I have."
"What are you talking about? Hurt me? How?"
"Lance, I . . . I . . . " JC takes a big breath, then rasps out, "I cheated on you."
This must be a joke, Lance thinks. This is some kind of setup--Joey must have put JC up to it. But Joey would never do that. Not with something as serious as their relationship. Lance blinks, studying JC's face for any sign of . . . what? Truth? "Um, what are you talking about?"
JC stares at his knees, afraid too look up, unable to risk seeing the pain and confusion he knows he'll see in Lance's eyes. "Lance, you can't even know how sorry I am. It's like I went crazy. I was missing you so much, and I felt so . . . adrift. So alone. And I-I-I spent half the summer trying to drown those feelings in vodka and, and, and . . . "
"And what? You SLEPT WITH SOMEONE? Is that what you're trying to tell me?"
JC nods, miserably.
"You . . . you really cheated on me? Wha--," Lance isn't sure what to say. Does he really want to know? "Who was it?"
"No one. Models."
The plural registers immediately. "ModelS? How many were there?"
JC shrugs. "Too many. I don't know. They didn't...it didn't mean anything."
"How can you say that? How can you say that sleeping with someone else means NOTHING? It means EVERYTHING. It means while I've been busting my butt in Russia, missing you so bad it hurts, you've been sleeping around!"
"I know that! I don't expect you to forgive me. I just, I owed it to you to tell you the truth."
Lance fights the tears welling in his eyes. He doesn't want to cry now. He wants to understand. But his face is hot and his head is starting to hurt and all he can focus on is that word: models. Not one. Many. "How could you do this? How could you do this to US? What, I wasn't good enough for you?"
"You were, you are TOO good for me. You're off doing this amazing stuff, and I have nothing. I kept getting drunk and letting myself believe that sex would fill this big HOLE in my life. But it didn't. I was trying to feel less alone, but I ended up lonelier than I've ever been in my life."
"So it's MY fault you cheated? Because I'm following my dream, you went off and slept around? JC, you're better than that. You're not weak. I don't know why you did this, but whatever it is . . . I can't be here now." He stands and heads for the door, hurt, confused . . . devastated.
"No, wait. Please."
He's almost at the door. All he needs to do is take one more step. He knows that's what he should do. But what he does instead is stop. "What?"
JC takes a deep breath and steps closer. He has to get this all out before Lance walks out of the room. He speaks quietly but intensely to Lance's stiff back. "Lance, I never said it was your fault. It's NOT. It's all my fault. I AM weak. I AM stupid. But I'm trying. I hit bottom, and I stopped. I swear it. I love you, and I'm more sorry than I can even begin to say. But I will do anything, anything, you ask. I'll get counselling. I'll stop drinking. Whatever you want me to do. If you'll give me another chance. I love you. Nothing that happened-- nothing I did, changes that." Tears are streaming down JC's face before he finishes, but he doesn't care about anything but reaching Lance.
Lance leans his head against the door, unable to sustain himself against that voice, that pained voice. "I-I don't know what to do," he croaks, his own tears starting to fall.
JC steps closer and reaches out, then stops himself. "Can I, can I touch you?"
That's the last thing Lance should want right now. He should run right now--run and not look back. But the weeks of separation have taken their toll and he'd been so deprived of this kind of contact that his body literally aches for JC's touch. "I don't know if I can let you. I want to. I want so badly for you to hold me. But I keep seeing all these people touching you. Not me. Them."
"I want to wipe those thoughts out. I want to give us new memories."
"You can't. You can't erase what you did."
JC drops his hands to his sides. "I know that. I hoped we could find a place to start again."
"I have so much going on now. And now this. If I hadn't left you wouldn't have . . . "
This time JC does touch Lance, turning him gently around by the shoulders. "This is NOT YOUR FAULT." He continues more softly. "And I AM sorry to do this to you now. I just couldn't keep lying to you."
"When did it start?" Lance whimpers, desperately trying to control the tears.
"Back in July. Those parties I went to in the Hamptons."
Now Lance feels the anger spark. He lifts his blazing eyes and shakes his head slowly. "I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped thinking about US."
"I know you're not going to believe me, but I thought about you, too. I just, you know, I was so alone, and I would go out just to stop brooding. And I...and I . . . " JC releases Lance's shoulders and walks over to the window, staring out into the darkness. "I wouldn't forgive me either."
"I-I love you. I do. But I just can't understand how you could sleep with other people."
"I thought it would make me feel less alone. But it just made me feel worse."
"Good." He spits the word out, wishing it would carry the sting of a thousand wasps.
"I deserve that," JC says to his own reflection in the window.
"Yeah, you do. But I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction of letting you wallow in self-pity."
JC turns to look at Lance. "I don't want to. I only want . . . I only want to prove to you that . . . it was the worst mistake of my life. But it's over. I want to fix the damage I did." JC's look becomes pleading. "Look, tell me now if there's no hope and I'll let you walk out that door."
That's one thing Lance can't seem to do. He knows he should leave, because if he stays his heart will just get broken all over again. But his body doesn't move, no matter how hard he wills it. "I can't."
JC lets out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. "Then tell me how to start. Anything. I'll do anything."
"I don't know, JC. I don't know what to tell you. If you EVER cheat on me again it's over."
"I won't. Never, ever, ever."
"What about when I go back to Russia? How can I trust you?"
"I'll have to earn that."
Lance nods silently. "I'm, um, really tired. I'm going back now."
JC swallows, hard. "Yeah. Okay. I . . . it will never be enough, but I am SO sorry."
"I . . . I know."
"I will make this up to you for the rest of our lives, if you let me."
After what seems like an eternal pause, Lance says quietly, "I need time."
"I'll wait. However long you need."
"I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"Can I...could I hug you?"
After the months of separation Lance needs that contact so badly, but the thought of JC touching someone else clouds any romantic visions. "I . . . ," but he can't finish because the tears come flooding out and there's no way to stop them.
JC doesn't hesitate. He has Lance in his arms before either of them can think, and they're both crying. In spite of his tears, he manages to whisper, "Even if I'm never anything else, I'm still your friend."
"I hate you for doing this. And I hate that I still love you."
"Hate me if you have to. As long as you still love me."
"I'll always love you. That's why it hurts so much." Still holding JC, he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "You have to get tested, you know."
JC cringes at the thought of the needle piercing his skin. "I will. I was always safe, but I will."
"I don't care if you wore armor. You're not touching me until you get tested."
"I said I would. I'll go find some clinic tomorrow if you want me to."
"You have to be in New York tomorrow."
"Before I leave here. After I get there. I'll do it."
"I'm, um . . . I'm afraid to let you go."
"What? Why?"
"Because if I let you go, you could . . . it could happen again."
"It's not gonna. I know you have no reason to believe me, but it won't."
"It's gonna take time. And we don't have time to talk about this right now."
"I know. Like I said, as long as there's hope, I'll wait as long as it takes. I begged you for another chance. I'm not going to blow it."
"Okay. Then . . . I'm gonna go."
Reluctantly, JC releases Lance, stepping back, then reaching up to touch a lock of newly blond hair. "I love you. More than ever."
Lance doesn't flinch, which surprises him. He thought he'd be angrier. But he's not. He's just tired and sad. So he just nods, again, and turns away. With a sigh, he reaches for the door.
JC watches Lance go wordlessly, knowing there are no words. Nothing he could possibly say to make this rift go away. He waits until the door closes to fall into a chair, pain and exhaustion overtaking him.
During the ride back to his room, Lance stares blankly out the window. He's completely numb, still unable to comprehend what just happened. Had JC really told him he cheated on him? Will he suddenly wake up in his room in a cold sweat? As much as he'd love to believe this is just a nightmare, his heart tells him it's not. And for some reason, he doesn't feel as angry with JC as he probably should be. The separation had been on hard on Lance, but he'd been so busy he didn't have time to think of anything else. But JC was the one left behind, left without anything to do, so can he really blame him? But then he sees the many faces, women, men, who knows how many, kissing, touching . . . and his heart breaks all over again.
JC gets up and walks around the room restlessly. A month ago he would have known exactly what to do about this feeling of loss and loneliness. He would have gone out, had too many drinks, and picked up some warm, willing body. But that had led to this. It was his fault that what should have been a joyful reunion had instead been the most painful hours of his life.
JC picks up his phone and puts it down. Lance is the only one he wants to talk to, but he knows he can't subject Lance to any more. Not tonight. It's like he needs a sponsor.
*****
The weeks leading up to the launch flew by. Lance returned to Russia feeling sad and confused, but once he was back to training he immersed himself in his work completely. And little by little, the emails became more frequent, there were more phone calls, and he even received cards and letters in the mail from JC. Joey told him that Lance was all JC could talk about, given any chance, and that he even talked about how hard Lance was working to anyone who would listen at the VMAs.
In the rare moments Lance had free time, he would go for walks and think about what had happened between him and JC. And even though it still hurt him, it hurt him more to know that he truly loved JC and that he couldn't be with him right now. It was the love and support of his family and friends that was helping him get through the rigors of training, and it was that love that would sustain him while he was in space.
It was something his mother said to him one night, a few weeks before the launch date, that broke down any remnants of the wall around his heart. "Just remember that no matter what you do, or where you go, we will all always love you so much and we are all so proud of you." And that's really what this was about--unconditional love. That when you truly love someone you love them no matter what they do. Yes, JC made a mistake, but he was sorry and he didn't do it because he hated Lance.
It was now a week before he was to be quarantined, and his parents were flying in. He dialed the phone slowly and waited for JC's voice, the butterflies dancing in his gut.
JC, asleep with his phone on the pillow beside him, as he usually sleeps these days, snaps awake and looks at the readout. Lance. He quickly hits send and says hello, his voice croaking awake.
"Hey, darlin'," Lance says hesitantly.
"Hey, you," JC almost whispers, feeling, if only for a moment, as if things were back to how they were before he screwed up. "How's everything?"
"Good. Strange, but good. I'm almost ready. I, um, go into quarantine next week."
"I know," JC says, softly, sadly.
"Um, my parents are coming on Tuesday. I thought, um, you might want to, you know, come with them."
"You want me there?" JC asks, his voice full of hope.
Lance gets up from the bed and walks to the desk. "If you want to come. If you don't, I understand."
"I . . . I never canceled my reservations. I was going to be there even if you didn't know it."
Lance squeezes his eyes shut against the tears threatening to erupt. They're tears of relief, not anger. "I . . . I'm really glad. I want to see you."
"Me too. I didn't want you to go without being able to say goodbye."
"So I'll see you Tuesday?"
"Yeah. Absolutely. I'm, um, glad you want me there."
*****
Lance waits anxiously in the visitor's area of the main building. He has no idea what he'll say to JC, only that he needs to see him.
JC walks in and glances around. He sees Lance before Lance sees him, and he takes a moment to note how thin, how almost delicate Lance looks. Finally, he takes a deep breath and says "Lance?"
"Hey." He rushes over and gives his friend a tight hug. His parents had arrived on a separate flight, having decided to leave the States a day earlier. So now it was just Lance and JC and various administrative personnel. "I'm so glad you came."
"It's where I want to be."
"C'mon, let's go for a walk."
"Okay. Lead on."
Lance holds the door open and guides JC around the grounds of the training facility to a park behind the building. It's fairly deserted this time of day. Finally, Lance speaks. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too. I'm grateful you took time to send me emails and stuff."
"I . . . wanted to. I wanted to talk to you."
"I wouldn't have blamed you if you never talked to me again."
"I couldn't do that."
"It's what I deserve."
"Stop. That's not what this is about."
"Sorry. This is your time."
"No. It's our time."
"Does that mean . . . " JC swallows a little thickly. " . . . there's still an 'us'?"
"There always was."
JC raises watery blue eyes to Lance's face, tries to speak, fails.
"It's okay. We've both been through a lot. But I don't want to do this without you."
"You don't have to."
"We have some time before we have to meet my parents for dinner. Are you tired?"
"I should be. But I'm not."
"You want to go back to the hotel?"
JC gazes at Lance. "Um, good idea."
Lance leads JC to a waiting car, and they're driven in silence to the posh hotel where JC and Lance's parents are staying. Lance walks with nervous anticipation down the long, dark hallway to JC's room, reminding himself that this is the man he loves.
JC hands are shaking as he unlocks the door. When it sticks, he resists the urge to kick it in. Finally they're in the room and the door swings shut, cutting them off, however temporarily, from the outside world.
Lance heads to the windows at the far end of the large suite. He gazes out over the city, the sun nearing the horizon. It's a beautiful world, he thinks, and he knows that soon he will be seeing it from a whole different perspective.
JC walks over and joins Lance, also looking outward, but unseeingly. Hesitantly he reaches over to take Lance's hand.
Lance squeezes the hand gently, hoping to convey some signal of acquiescence. "Sometimes I wish I could take you with me."
"I'm light. You could pack me."
Lance smiles. "We don't need all those extra supplies."
"I could, like, be a lab rat."
"You don't like needles."
"Yeah. I guess I'll just have to settle for you telling me all about it. And I want to hear everything."
"I'll let you read my journal."
"I'd really like that."
"But for now, anything you want to know, just ask. I think . . . maybe one of the reasons why, um, it happened was because you felt out of the loop."
"I guess I did. I felt like you were so out of reach."
"I'm sorry. I know this is really strange. We've never gone through something like this before."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
Lance scratches his head. "I've done a lot of thinking. I still don't know how it happened, exactly, but I don't want it to happen again. I love you, JC."
"I love you, too. And it won't happen again. I swear it."
"I know. That's why I wanted you to come this week. So I can give you a reason to never do it again."
JC takes Lance's other hand in his, turning Lance to look at him. "I have all the reason I need right here."
Without thinking about it, Lance lifts his head and kisses JC as though it were the last kiss he'd ever have.
JC returns the kiss almost passively, letting Lance set the pace. He keeps his hold on both of Lance's hands and they stand still, only their mouths moving.
Lance pulls back suddenly. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Nothing's felt this right in a long time."
Lance touches JC's face, then pulls him into another kiss, this one gentler, less urgent. This time JC wraps his arms around Lance, something he's dreamed of doing every night of their separation.
The realization that this really could be their last kiss hits Lance, and tears begin to sting his eyes as he pulls JC close.
"Baby, don't," JC whispers as he enfolds Lance, holding him tightly with one arm and stroking his hair with the other hand.
"I'm sorry. I just don't want to lose you again."
"You won't. You're stuck with me as long as you want me."
"I want you for a very long time."
"Good," JC says, kissing Lance's hair.
Lance tilts his head back and captures JC's mouth again, to emphasize the truth of the statement. This kiss is long and slow and tender. They're both breathless when it's over, and JC has tears in his eyes, too.
"We're gonna be okay," Lance says quietly.
"You don't know how happy I am to hear that. It would have killed me to have you go with this hanging between us."
"I didn't want to leave it like this. I couldn't go up there knowing I might not come back and have us be . . . you know."
"You are coming back," JC says, intensely.
"I know. But just in case, I wanted you to know I still love you."
"That was worth coming halfway around the world to hear."
"I'd say it from space if I could."
"I'll know."
"I'll say it when I fly over LA."
"I'll find out when you're passing over and say it too."
"I'm really going to miss you, you know?"
"Me, too. But you're doing something huge and wonderful."
"And that doesn't bother you? At all?"
"I think it's the coolest thing ever."
"I can't believe it's really going to happen."
"You deserve it. You've worked so hard."
"I did. I don't think I've ever worked this hard for anything in my life."
"I'm so proud of you. I mean that."
"Come here. I want to show you something." Lance leads JC over to the couch and pulls a printout of a webpage from his pocket.
JC follows and looks down at the paper.
"It's a telescope. High-range. And it's being delivered to your house. I thought you could, you know, use it to watch me when I fly over."
"I will. Every night."
Lance grins. "You won't see me every night."
"You know what I mean."
"So do you like it?"
"I love it. I can't believe you thought of it with everything else you have to think about."
"I never stop thinking about you and my family."
JC looks from the paper in his hand to Lance's face. "How'd I get so lucky?"
"Luck had nothing to do with it."
"No? What then?"
"We love each other."
"I still feel lucky that someone like you could love me."
"Like me? I'm just a guy."
"Just a guy? Dude, you're going to space! You're not afraid of anything."
"Sure I am."
"If you are, you do it anyway."
"I guess I don't want to miss out on anything, you know?"
"Yeah." JC rests his head on Lance's shoulder. "It's one of the things I love about you."
"I'll tell you one thing I'm afraid of."
"What?"
"Losing you."
"You're not going to lose me unless you cut me loose."
"Is that what you want?"
JC lifts his head to look into Lance's eyes, hoping Lance can read his sincerity there. "No. Never."
"Then I guess I have nothing to be afraid of."
"I'm still gonna be a little scared until you're safely back on Earth."
"I'll be a little scared too."
"You need a good luck charm."
"Like what?"
JC reaches up and unties his necklace. "It always worked for me."
Lance holds up his hand. "No way. I can't take that. You've had that, like, forever."
"More incentive to bring it back to me," JC says, pushing Lance's hand aside and tying the cord around his neck.
"I promise I'll bring it back to you," Lance says, awed by the gesture. He fingers the pendant as though it were made of the most precious material on Earth.
"If I get you back, I'll be happy."
"You'll get me AND this."
"And this?" JC leans in for a kiss.
"Definitely that," Lance whispers. "And more."
"More is good. I like more."
"We should start now. It's gonna be a long time before we can do this again."
In response, JC kisses Lance again.
Lance no longer thinks of the others JC has kissed. Those images have been erased from his mind. He thinks now only of how much he loves JC and how much he'll miss being away from him.
JC can practically feel the doubts drain from Lance. He is very aware how lucky he is that Lance has such a forgiving heart.
Lance can feel that all of JC's attention is on him, that whatever happened is not going to happen again.
Cradling Lance in his arms, JC lowers him to the couch cushions. This new, thinner Lance feels almost delicate in his arms, although he can feel the underlying strength there as well. Still, he feels a surge of tenderness, of protectiveness, and he knows he would hurt anyone who hurts Lance. Including himself. Especially himself.
Lance shifts so that JC can easily lie on top, never breaking the kiss, not wanting to be apart from JC for one minute. The kiss is so sweet and tender it melts his heart.
JC kisses Lance for a long time before his hands move to touch Lance's body. And even then, he takes his time, stroking and caressing each bit of flesh as if learning it by heart. After their long separation, it feels almost like their first time, and JC wants to make sure it's memorable enough to carry them through the separation to come.
Sensing JC's trepidation, Lance remains still, letting JC set the pace, wanting to savor every minute they have.
JC finally releases Lance's lips, moving downward to find several deliciously sensitive spots on Lance's neck, kissing and licking and nuzzling.
"JC, that feels so good. I missed this," Lance moans.
JC smiles as the vibration of Lance's voice tickles his lips. "Me, too. I missed you."
Lance reaches out with his lips to claim JC's mouth, kissing the smile and taking JC's tongue inside.
JC shifts so he can reach the hem of Lance's shirt, moving the garment slowly upward, touching the warm skin he uncovers.
After months without any sexual contact, Lance's young body responds immediately. His skin tingles under JC's fingers, and a shiver travels up his spine, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
JC sits up to peel off his shirt, then helps Lance out of his. When JC wraps his arms around Lance again, the sensation of bare chest against bare chest is so tantalizing that he does nothing else for a few moments. Nothing but hold Lance and feel Lance's heart beating against him.
With his eyes closed, Lance strokes JC's back tenderly, still not quite believing that he's really here, that everything is indeed back to normal. Quietly, he places a soft kiss on JC's neck.
In every movement Lance makes, every touch, every kiss, JC can feel forgiveness. And it makes him love Lance and want to deserve Lance more with every passing second.
"Mmm, you smell so good," Lance whispers against JC's throat.
"You taste good," JC replies, nibbling on Lance's ear.
"What am I, a piece of meat?" giggles Lance.
"A delectable morsel."
"Do you want fries with that?"
"I want to supersize it."
"I think you just did."
JC slides his hand downward. "I sure did."
Lance breathes heavily as JC's hand rests on his bulge, and he presses his forehead against JC's as he says softly, "Make love to me."
JC moves his hand against the hot hardness and claims Lance's mouth again. He kisses Lance, hard and wet and eager, then rolls off him, lunging for his bag and coming back to the couch with condoms and lube. He kneels next to the couch and kisses Lance again.
The condoms are a bitter reminder of JC's infidelity, but Lance pushes the images from his mind. This is a new start. He's not going to let one mistake ruin what they have. What they can have.
JC breaks the kiss to look down at Lance. "I love you. Only you."
After a pause, Lance replies, "I know. I believe you. I do."
"We don't have to do this now. Not if you need more time."
Lance covers the hand holding the condom. "We don't have that luxury. I want to do this. I don't want to leave without, you know, being with you."
JC nods. "That's what I want too. To show you how much I love you."
"Then show me."
JC drops his supplies to the floor and uses both hands to cup Lance's face while he kisses Lance thoroughly.
Lance lies back on the couch, pulling JC on top and using his knee to rub JC's sizable erection through his pants.
JC slowly runs a hand down from Lance's chin to his crotch, caressing every bit of skin he encounters on the way. His lips follow, even more slowly, and fasten themselves around one peaked brown nipple.
Lance's breath comes in a short, even rhythm. His hands grasp JC's tight ass and squeeze gently, the muscles moving under his palms heightening his own arousal.
JC continues what he's doing until he senses the moment when Lance is ready to scream for a different touch, then moves to the other nipple, nibbling gently. His hand breaks its rubbing motion against Lance's erection to quickly dispense with button and zipper.
Lance raises his head as far as he can to watch JC's lips on his chest. His head falls back against the cushion as a wave of ecstasy overtakes him.
JC smiles against Lance's chest. "You wanna watch?" he murmurs. "I could get you one of those mirrors for over our bed."
"No way. I want to watch YOU, not see how dorky I look."
"Someday I'll convince you how beautiful you are."
"How about you just make love to me instead."
"How about I do both." JC sits up and removes Lance's pants and underwear, then pauses, gazing at Lance for a moment before he reaches to caress the stiff erection. "Beautiful," he whispers.
"You are. I'm gonna miss seeing you."
"Think how hot it will be when we do get back together."
"For good."
"For good," JC echoes, sliding his long body down the couch to take Lance into his mouth.
"Good . . . very good . . . "
JC moves over Lance, making every tiny movement count. As he does with anything he truly cares about, he focuses all his intensity on this act, trying to making it as good for Lance as possible.
All the tension from the previous weeks drains out of Lance as JC engulfs him. He whimpers quietly in the heat of JC's moist mouth, as though experiencing this intimate act for the first time.
JC moves faster, egged on by the small sounds coming from Lance's throat. He reaches down to the floor and gropes around until his hand finds the lube. JC squeezes some onto his fingers and begins teasing at Lance's opening with his slicked finger.
Gasping, Lance reaches for JC's hair, caressing the soft curls as he nears climax.
Thrusting a finger into Lance, JC keeps up the rhythm with his mouth, licking and sucking just as he knows Lance likes it.
Lance cries out at the penetration, the sweet pleasure filling him with such emotion after such a long period of deprivation.
JC knows it will just be a matter of moments, so he moves faster, more intensely.
"Stop . . . JC, I want you inside me. Please."
JC stops, breathless. "Baby, you're so close."
"I know. I--" but before he can say anymore the orgasm hits him in full force.
"Good boy," JC coos, grabbing his own shirt and cleaning up the mess. "Don't worry, you still get what you asked for. But it will be even better."
"How can it be better?" Lance asks, panting. "That was amazing."
JC sheds his pants, then crawls up to press his body to Lance's. "It will be better because every time with you is better."
Lance caresses JC's face, then parts his lips and kisses him. "I love you, JC Chasez."
"I love you, too," JC whispers, deepening the kiss.
And it is better--better than before the trouble. More trusting, more loving. More . . . everything.
Again, JC takes his time, gently coaxing Lance back to a state of arousal. He wants this to be something Lance will remember the entire time he's gone. Something for him to come back to.
Lance surprises himself by becoming aroused again so soon. Being young does have its advantages, he thinks, smiling to himself, content to lie under the man he loves as his organ twitches to life.
When JC is sure Lance is ready again, he grabs a condom and rolls it on. Liberally coating himself with lube, he lifts Lance's legs and pushes into him, never taking his eyes from Lance's face.
Lance grunts at the brief flash of pain after so many weeks of abstinence. But the pain quickly gives way to pleasure as JC penetrates, the intensity in his soft blue eyes putting to rest any last doubts Lance had about their love for each other.
"I missed this SO much, " JC breathes, as he sinks deeper into his lover.
"Me too. I . . . couldn't wait to be with you."
JC dips his head to kiss Lance as he begins moving, keeping it slow and languid, loving the feeling of Lance beneath him, around him, with him.
Lance takes the time to explore JC's body, memorizing every curve, every plane, the way his nipples form tight, pink, peaks. He takes one nipple between his fingers, rolling it slowly as though it were a tiny marble.
"Mmmm, nice," JC purrs, changing the angle at which he thrusts into Lance, letting Lance's reaction guide him.
With a somewhat loud moan Lance raises his legs higher, amazed at JC's ability to always find new ways to please him.
"That's what I wanna hear," JC murmurs against Lance's ear. He wraps a hand around Lance's erection, determined to makes this as good for Lance as it is for him.
"It's . . . so . . . good," Lance manages. JC thrusts harder, faster, knowing that Lance is right there with him, climbing to the same heights. His hand pumps Lance's erection with abandon, pulling him toward their inevitable climax. Lance rocks with every thrust, giving himself over completely. Their bodies and minds completely connected, every sense tuned to the other's, Lance feels closer to JC than he has before.
JC pulls back a little, wanting to, needing to see Lance's face. And the sight is worth the slight separation. Lance's face is gorgeously flushed, his mouth open, moist, avid. Kissable. So that's what JC does. Lance kisses back hungrily, with such need that the force drives him over the edge, and without breaking the kiss he comes.
Buried inside Lance, feeling Lance spasm around him, the thick fluid coating both of their chests, their mouths sealed together, JC is sure he's never felt anything so intense. Lance breathes hard against JC, urging him on, taking him in as far as he'll go, feeling as though he will explode.
JC keeps kissing Lance, kissing him as if he were JC's only lifeline. Which he is. When JC comes, his cry is completely muffled, caught, contained by Lance's mouth.
Lance takes the cry into himself, as though JC's love is transmitted through that kiss into his soul. He holds JC all through his orgasm and doesn't let go even when it subsides.
Warm, wrapped in Lance, JC feel tears prickling behind his eyelids. To think, he'd almost lost this through his own stupidity.
"Hey now, no tears," Lance says in a soothing voice, using his thumb to wipe them from JC's cheek.
"They're good tears."
"I don't want to make you cry."
"You don't. I do."
"You make yourself cry?"
"Yeah. I almost screwed up the best thing in my life. That makes me cry."
"Don't. It's over. We're together. That's all that matters."
"You . . . I love you."
"I love you too. So please don't cry."
"Okay," JC says, slipping out of Lance and lowering Lance's legs. "And can I just say that was SO worth waiting for?"
"It was," Lance answers, not hiding his enthusiasm. "And we have a lot to make up for, so rest up." He gathers JC in his arms and kisses his hair, breathing in the intoxicating postcoital scent.
JC shifts and wiggles, settling himself more comfortably against Lance, instinctively finding a position that makes the couch bear more of his weight than Lance does. "How long do we have before we have to meet your parents?"
"About an hour," Lance answers, bringing his wrist up to check his watch.
"Not very long."
"No. But there's lots you can do in an hour."
"Got anything in mind?"
"How about," Lance starts, rolling onto his side and bringing a finger to JC's chest, "we climb into that big ol' bathtub."
"With water and everything?"
"No we'll just sit there naked--no bubbles, nothing."
"Oh, okay." JC peels himself up from the couch and starts tugging on Lance's arms. "Come on."
"One thing," Lance says, when he's standing, facing JC, their bodies sweaty and sticky and scented with their lovemaking.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for coming."
"I'm just glad you wanted me here," JC says, touching his own pendant, lying against Lance's chest.
"I'll always want you." Lance covers JC's hand with his own. "No matter where I go."
"This is as far away as you're ever going to go, right?"
"Unless they send me to Mars."
"If they send you to Mars, I'm coming with you."
"Even if I have to smuggle you."
"You think I'm too much of a wimp to do this?"
"No. I don't think you're afraid of anything."
"Just one thing, now."
"What's that?"
"Being late for your parents. Your mom hates it when we're late."
Lance grins, pulling JC into a hug. He knows, at least for now, that he has nothing to be afraid of.