Fic: Papa Was A Rodeo | popslash | jc/chris | adult | part 2
Papa Was A Rodeo
continued from here.
Having Justin in the house isn't as awkward or strange as it could be because there are also about a hundred other people there, or at least that's how it feels to JC. His parents fly in early that morning and Bev and her husband and Taylor all show up within an hour of each other, Taylor driving in from Wellesley with her roommate, a shy, quiet girl from San Francisco who couldn't afford to fly home for the short holiday. Taylor introduces her quickly and pulls her up the stairs to take over the kids' room, and Chris leans over, whispers to JC, "I think my sister is a lesbian now. And she has good taste."
Chris has to leave to get Justin from the airport, and by the time he gets back, JC and his mom have already started the pie at the kitchen table, with Emma kneeling up on her chair to watch while they peel and slice the apples into thin strips. The pie thing is a tradition from when JC was a kid, before Tyler was born, even. From before JC was officially adopted, when his mother used to leave him with Karen and Roy for long stretches at a time, but especially on holidays. JC never questioned being left because she always came back, eventually, and he liked Karen and Roy; liked sleeping in a bed that was a real bed and not a cot at a shelter, liked eating food that came on plates and not trays, liked how everything smelled clean and warm and he could take a real bath before bedtime.
So the pie thing was a tradition from way back, and now Emma joins in, watching them and stealing apple slices and making sure all the peels and cores go into the trash and not the bowl. She says, "I want to measure! Daddy, I get to measure, right?"
JC grins and says, "Okay, but you have to be very careful. Let your grandma show you how. She's the master of measuring."
His mom smiles at him and JC can't help but smile back. It's tradition and it's family, and he remembers what she told him when he first found out about Emily's accident, and what Chris wanted to do. She said, "Honey, you know better than anyone that family isn't about blood and genes and all that. We make our own families." That's true, he thinks, and watches as his mom shows Emma how to top off a cup of flour by skimming her finger along the top.
"Can I help?" Justin asks from the doorway, and JC frowns. Justin isn't part of the tradition.
But his mom smiles and says, "Justin, honey! It's so nice to see you" and then Justin is leaning down to hug her and Emma is staring at him with wide eyes, saying, "Daddy, who's that?" and spilling flour all over the table.
"I'm Justin," Justin says, holding his hand out. Emma stares at him curiously as he takes her hand in his and shakes it, dusting flour everywhere. "You must be Emma. Very pleased to meet you."
"You're weird," Emma says. Her eyes narrow as Justin takes the empty chair across from her at the table. "You can help," she says, "but I get to measure. Daddy said. Measuring is my job."
His mom gives him a questioning look but JC just shrugs. He knows why Justin is here, but not really; he doesn't know why Justin is here now, during a family holiday when the house is already so crowded that Justin's probably going to have to sleep on the pull out couch in the den, and when Heather and Tyler show up tomorrow, he'll have to share that with Tyler. It would be easier, JC thinks, for Justin to come when no one is here, for him to try to convince JC without all these distractions. So no, he doesn't know why Justin invited himself, and he doesn't plan on making it any easier for Justin, either.
Justin deserves to suffer a little. Or maybe a lot, JC thinks, smiling as he cores the last apple.
Dinner that night is pizza and beer and Taylor's friend Jenny saying, "Oh my god, you're Justin Timberlake," and Chris saying, "Believe me, he knows. Don't encourage him, or we won't be able to fit his head in the house." Jamie watches Justin eat a slice of pepperoni pizza and says loudly and pointedly, "Pepperoni is made from animals and there are places where they keep pigs in very small cages and they can't even move. Pigs are smarter than dogs." Justin puts his half-eaten slice of pizza back on his paper plate. He doesn't pick it up again.
The kids are in with them because Taylor and her friend are in their room and the parents are taking up the guest rooms. Chris helps them set up their Disney princesses pop-up tent and leaves JC to get sheets and blankets to make up the pull-out in the den for Justin. Justin takes one side of the fitted sheet to help and JC says, "You know, you don't have to do this."
Justin looks at him, head cocked to one side. "Do what?" he says, folding and tucking in his side of the flat sheet in a perfect hospital corner.
"Play nice like this. Pretend like you're here to, I don't know. Pretend like you're here for something besides convincing me to do the reunion."
"JC." Justin stands up straight, bites his lip. "I'm not here because of the group, okay? I'm here because you and Chris are my best friends and I've known you for like twenty years. And look, I know this is fucked because I haven't-I've been a shitty friend for like, half that time and I sort of. I forgot, you know? How much you guys mean to me. And I thought. I wanted to meet your kids, and just. I want to be here. It's not about the band. It's about you guys."
JC says, "I hope you mean that." He's not sure what he's supposed to be feeling right now, because he never let himself think that Justin would be back in his life like this. He's not even sure he wants Justin back in his life, because forgiving is a lot different than being over something, but it's not exactly his choice, either. There's Chris, who forgave Justin a long time ago, and it's not just about JC anymore. He shrugs. He doesn't know what else to say.
*
It's a busy day for everyone like holidays are, but the pies are made and Chris recruits Justin to help with the macaroni and cheese while JC's dad and Tyler take over turkey duty, so JC's left to entertain the kids and the moms, which is fine with him. They watch the Macy's Parade with Jamie and Emma sitting on the rug in front of the coffee table, tracing each other's hands to make turkeys out of construction paper and glue and feathers leftover from a turquoise boa that Chris found in the attic last month.
Taylor says, "I remember when you guys were in the parade. Mom had to cover my ears because the screaming was so loud I started crying."
"You were like, six. There's no way you remember that," JC says, and Bev elbows him in the ribs.
"Don't you talk to my daughter like that," she says. "She remembers just fine. What I remember is Chris's hair. Those braids! I tried to get him to cut them off so many times, but he never listened."
"Daddy, you were in the parade?" Jamie looks up from his gluing, a feather stuck to his cheek. Probably on purpose, JC thinks, and smiles.
"It was a long time ago," he says. "Me and Chris and Justin and Lance and Joey were all in the parade."
Bev and JC's mom exchange glances and JC's mom says, "In fact, I just happen to have the video in my luggage. Taylor, why don't you run up to the second guest room and grab it. It's right on the dresser."
"Mom," JC says, feeling slightly panicked, "why did you-we don't even have a VCR."
"It's a good thing I had all the old tapes transferred to DVDs, then, isn't it?" she says, raising one eyebrow. "Emma, why don't you go get Chris and Justin from the kitchen, okay dear? I know they'll want to see this."
Taylor comes back with the disc and Emma pulls Justin and Chris into the living room, walking backwards with her hands grasping one of theirs each, saying, "Grandma says you have to come!"
Chris squeezes onto the couch next to him, Emma climbing up to lounge across both of them while Justin settles on the arm of the couch, watching Taylor pop the disc into the DVD player with a frown on his face. "What's going on?" he says, but then the screen flickers and it's them-well, them from fifteen years ago-singing 'I Want You Back,' which JC hasn't heard in a really really long time and now he remembers why. He really hates this song.
"I really hate this song," Justin says. "God, how many times did we sing it? Like a million?"
"At least," Chris says. Justin comes into view on the screen, looking so incredibly young that JC just stares for a minute because he forgot how young Justin was. How young they all were. Justin sounds like shit, actually, voice cracking in a few places, and Chris pokes him in the thigh every time it happens, because he knows JC hears it, too.
Jamie says, "Daddy, what's wrong with your hair?" and JC and Justin say, "He has pineapple head!" Justin catches his eye and JC can't help it. He doesn't want to laugh and he doesn't want to share this moment but it's sort of undeniable. The history and everything that's happened, good and bad and in between-it's all completely undeniable and it's not hard to remember now, with Justin's bleached-to-death curls bouncing across the screen and his annoying, braying laughter right here in the room how it felt to be in the group, and why he wanted to go back to it so badly after Schizophrenic.
Bev sniffs and says, "You boys were really something."
"Something scary and lame!" Taylor says.
"I like it," Emma says, and starts singing very loudly, "It's hard to say I'm sorry!" while Jamie covers his ears. JC doesn't blame him. She's a really bad singer, and it doesn't help when Justin joins in, just as loudly and just as off-key. Chris catches his eye and JC knows what he's thinking without him saying it-that Justin is trying, that Justin knows he fucked up and he wants them to be friends again, that he wants them to be a group again. Justin's never exactly been subtle even if he hasn't always been honest.
They're all looking at him except for Justin and Emma, who are still singing along while Emma tries to follow the dance moves on the television. JC says, "You know, I really don't appreciate being manipulated."
His mom snorts. "Then stop being so stubborn, dear. You brought this on yourself."
JC looks at Chris helplessly. He's not sure what he's supposed to say or do but he knows what he feels-like everyone is ganging up on him and they don't understand his reasons or maybe they just don't want to. Like they don't care about his feelings and it shouldn't have to be him versus Justin but it feels like that. And it feels like Justin is winning and JC should just give in because he's the only one who cares what an utterly shitty idea this is and he's the only one with any pride left. It feels like Justin is winning because that's how it's always been, and JC knows his mom is right but that doesn't change how he feels. He doesn't need to say anything to Chris, though, because Chris gets it, even if he doesn't agree.
Chris squeezes his hand, threads their fingers together and presses a soft, dry kiss to JC's cheek. "Okay, enough torturing JC for one day," he says. "Besides, I think the food is probably ready now. I think we should all go eat. And maybe turn this song off before my ears start bleeding."
*
Everything changed when Emily died. One day, JC was barely in a relationship and still trying to figure out how he ended up with Chris pretty much living at his house, and the next day he was married with kids in Bethany, Connecticut. So yeah, it was a pretty big change.
It didn't really happen like that, but it happened fast and that's the way it feels, sometimes. A week after the accident and four days after the funeral, Chris got into bed, stared at the cover of JC's novel for a moment, and said, "I don't know how to say this."
JC set his book aside. "You always know what to say."
"Nah, I'm just good at faking it."
JC touched the back of Chris's hand where it was resting between them and said, "My dad always said, you know, sometimes it's better to just get it out. Anticipation is the worst part of bad news."
"It's not." Chris looked at him then and JC had never seen him so serious and sober. He suddenly looked every bit as old as he was and JC thought, he's finally growing up. "It's not bad," Chris continued. "It's just-different. No, that's not the right word. I'm just gonna say it. Emily, she wanted me to take the kids if anything ever happened to her and my mom offered but she's already raised her kids and I'm gonna do it. I want you to know I'm gonna do it, and I hope that you'll-I want you with me. So. That's all."
JC didn't know what to say and he didn't know what to think. When it was just them, nothing had to change. They could stay the same and his life could stay the same and maybe in a few months he'd get bored and restless like all the other times he found himself in a relationship; he'd go back to LA and his real life there and maybe get back into the studio, even if nothing ever came of it. Eric could always find him work if he wanted to act, and nothing had to change.
"I don't know," JC said, and Chris nodded.
"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know."
JC went to visit his mom. He stayed in Chicago for a week and it was nice, just being there alone with his folks. Usually it was all of them and grandparents and cousins and all that, and JC never really got the chance to have his parents all to himself, so it was nice, but he couldn't stop thinking about Chris, wondering what he was doing and how he was handling everything. JC didn't even know the twins' names. They were less than a year old and JC had only been with Chris for six months, and not even that because six months ago they were just fucking whenever they were both in the same place at the same time. The relationship thing was new, and he didn't even know their names.
"I can tell something's troubling you," his mom said on his last night there. JC couldn't sleep, was sitting at the kitchen table with a leftover piece of apple pie and a mug of the organic spicy sweet Good Earth tea he liked that his mom always kept stocked for him. She sat down across from him and smiled a little. "How's Chris?"
"What? He's. I don't know. He's Chris. Why are you asking me about him?"
His mom snorted. "Honey, Bev and I are still good friends. Don't act surprised that we know about you two."
JC looked down at the table, the same battered old thing they'd had in their kitchen in Bowie forever ago because his mom didn't believe in throwing out perfectly serviceable furniture just because they could afford new. He traced a finger along the jagged scratch Tyler had left one morning trying to chop open a grapefruit and said, "He's going to adopt Emily's kids. And he wants. I don't know, but he said he wanted me to be there, and I don't know if I can. I don't know if I'm ready for that."
"Do you love him?"
"I. It's still new." JC wasn't ready for that question, either. He wasn't sure he'd ever be.
His mom frowned. "Josh. You've known Chris since you were a teenager. This isn't new. It's just a different way of knowing him." She covered his hand with hers. "I can't tell you what to do. You need to decide what's best for yourself the way you always have. But I will tell you this. Chris is a good man and he cares about you, and that's not something you find every day."
"It's just all so fast. Chris and kids and-adopting. We can't even get married in Florida. I'm not even out and Chris isn't out and it just doesn't seem like a good idea."
"No, it seems like a hard idea, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be good."
"Adopting, though. I don't know if I could. If I'd even be good at it. Chris, he's their family. But I'd just be some guy."
Her fingers tightened around his and she said, " Honey, you know better than anyone that family isn't about blood and genes and all that. We make our own families."
She smiled at him and JC thought, I'm the luckiest guy in the world. He said, "I know. You're right, I know." And suddenly, just like that, he did.
So it didn't happen over night but it happened pretty fast, and a month later they were driving to Connecticut with a baby in the backseat of each car and a house and a wedding and a life waiting for them. JC has doubts sometimes, of course he does, but he never has any regrets about the way things happened. There was no press, no big announcement-"Hey, we’re gay! And married! With kids!"-they weren't Lance and it was a different situation and a different time. People found out, fans and gossip magazines and all that, but no one really cared and JC was pretty happy to ignore all the bullshit and live his life.
His new life, the life that he and Chris were making, together.
*
JC should've known that he wouldn't get away that easily when Justin left the day after Thanksgiving without another word about the reunion or another video ambush. He should've known, but he stupidly decided that they had their say and Justin did what he needed to do and now they could all move on without the whole getting the group back together for one last depressing, pathetic, New Kids-style hurrah.
He should've known better.
For one thing, Emma spends the next two weeks constantly singing their old songs whenever she gets a chance, and JC suspects that Chris is secretly supplying her with old CDs and videos because, as out of tune as she is, there's no way JC could not recognize the sounds of 'Girlfriend' being yelled loudly from the backyard while Emma and Jamie and Kyle attempt to build something vaguely resembling a snow man while Chris watches from the snow chair he built, drinking hot chocolate from his coffee thermos. JC stares at him pointedly through the glass of the kitchen window and Chris just shrugs and joins in, "Won't you be my girlfriend?"
Eventually they come inside and it's just a flurry of activity, stripping off hats and gloves and snow suits with Jamie saying, "Hurry hurry, I have to pee!" and running off down the hall in socked feet to make it to the bathroom in time. JC hands out mugs of hot chocolate and Kyle says, "Does this have marshmallows? Because mom says marshmallows are made of horse feet."
Emma says, "Horse feet are yummy," and takes a sip of her chocolate, holding on tight when Chris lifts her onto one of the bar stools to sit at the island. "Daddy," she says to JC, "did you hear my song? We made a snow turtle and I learned a new song but I don't know the dance yet and Daddy said you would teach me because he's too old."
Kyle says, "It's a snow tortoise," and JC thinks he really doesn't like that kid.
Soon, Emma is hounding him hourly to teach her their old dances, as if he remembers them, and Jamie keeps insisting on learning more of the song JC and Justin started in New York and never finished.
"That's all I know, baby," JC tries to tell him, but Jamie just frowns and says, "Then you have to make more and teach it to me."
In bed that night, JC tries to ignore Chris's hand on the inside of his thigh. He's reading, and also he's mad at Chris for turning their kids against him, so it's a moral imperative that he not let Chris have access to his dick because yes. Chris should suffer, too. He pushes Chris's hands away and says, "This book is really good. I think I'm just going to keep reading it until it's time to go to sleep. I was going to give you a blowjob tonight, but then you taught my kid the words to 'Digital Getdown' and now I don't think I can ever have sex again."
Chris grins and says, "Okay, that was maybe inappropriate, but it was pretty fucking funny, you gotta admit. She'll forget them tomorrow. Besides, I thought that song was about the internet?"
"It's about the changing ways we communicate as human beings in a rapidly evolving computer age and-oh, fuck you." JC tosses his book aside and crosses his arms over his chest. "This isn't going to work, you know. I'm not going to suddenly want to get the group back together just because the kids know it existed, now."
"No, I know," Chris says, tugging at one of JC's arms until he can nudge himself underneath, cheek resting warm against the bare skin of JC's chest and one arm thrown across JC's waist to palm his hip. "That's why Joey and Lance are coming to visit. They'll be here tomorrow." JC can feel Chris's smile against his skin and he wants to be mad, he is mad, damnit, but JC doesn't let go and he doesn't move away, either. He's tired of resisting and tired of fighting it. He still doesn't think they can change his mind, but he's willing to let them try. He owes them that, anyway, he thinks, and pulls Chris closer.
*
The good thing about Joey and Lance being there two weeks before Christmas is that JC and Chris can drive up to Hartford to go Christmas shopping without the distraction of two four-year-olds listing everything they want Santa to bring them.
The bad thing about Joey and Lance being there is that Chris and JC have to go Christmas shopping.
The stuff for the kids was easy; they ordered that online ages ago and had it sent to Bev's house in Orlando because that's where they'll be Christmas morning, but there's still something for the parents and all the siblings, plus JC's grandparents and cousins and all of Chris's nieces and nephews.
"Our family is too big," JC says, frowning at his list of names. They're sitting at one of the small round plastic tables fueling up on caffeine before the actual torture begins, and it's this right here that almost makes JC miss the old Christmases before the kids, before he had to go to three different houses in two different states. Chris sold his house in Florida when they moved, but JC still has the place in Winter Park and that's where they stay, because Bev's house isn't big enough for all Chris's sisters and their families, plus the four of them. JC takes a sip of his peppermint mocha and frowns some more. He used to really love shopping. Now it just feels like a chore.
"I'm not gonna argue there," Chris says, "but I can't believe you made a list, you freak. It's not like I'm gonna forget one of my sisters or something."
"Okay, sure, but are you gonna remember to get something for Molly's husband's daughter's partner?"
Chris looks at him. "Okay fine. But the list is still freaky. I say we just get all the women scarves and all the men socks and all the kids puppies. Everyone likes scarves and everyone needs socks and you can't go wrong with puppies!"
"I call not it on the dog car, then," JC says dryly, putting down his list in favor of concentrating on the sweet, sweet caffeine. Chris picks up the sheet of paper, folds it in half, and neatly tears it in two.
"This will go faster if we split up," he says. "I'll meet you at the Mac store in two hours."
They split up and JC's list has all the parents, Tyler and Heather, and some of Chris's nieces and nephews, next to which JC had the forethought to write their ages and genders so he knows he's not getting an Easy Bake Oven for Chris's twelve-year-old nephew, even though JC would've been really happy to get an Easy Bake Oven when he was twelve. Heather never shared.
By the time he finds the Mac store, he's fifteen minutes late to meet Chris, but he got something for everyone on his list plus another peppermint mocha, so he's feeling pretty good. Standing next to the display case of the newest line of iPods, Chris smiles and shrugs at something the saleswoman says, and JC hears him reply, "Oh well, you never know what's gonna happen."
JC nudges Chris with his free elbow, bags hanging off his wrists. "You ready to go?"
"This woman-Amy, see, she has a nametag, her name is Amy-was just telling me something really interesting. Apparently, everyone thinks NSYNC is going to reunite."
JC narrows his eyes at him. He wants to say something cutting and mean but they're in the middle of a store and there's a woman-an Amy-staring at them like she really wants to believe. JC blinks and says, "Well, I've never heard that one before."
"Lance gave an interview about it to Entertainment Tonight," Chris says, mouth twitching like he wants to grin.
"Of course he did. I'm sorry, we should really-"
"And so did Justin."
JC doesn't say anything for a long moment. He doesn't want to think about this right now, or maybe ever. He doesn't want to have to deal with the relentless freight train of Justin and Lance, and he doesn't want to think that they might actually be combining forces to make him agree to this reunion. They always said they'd only get back together when they were all ready, and JC isn't ready. JC doesn't want to be ready, and he thinks the rest of them should respect that the way they had to respect Justin's decision to quit the group in the first place. This is disrespectful, is what it is, and unfair, and just plain mean. Not that JC really expects any less from Justin and Lance, and he realizes suddenly that he's about fifteen seconds away from throwing a tantrum in the middle of the crowded Apple Store on a Saturday afternoon in a suburban shopping mall.
JC doesn't want his life to change and he doesn't need anything more than what he has, which he happens to think is a pretty damn good life. He doesn't want anything to change, but it looks like he might not get a choice.
The drive home is tense and quiet and JC doesn't feel like he's going to start screaming in the middle of the mall anymore, but he doesn't feel very good, either. Chris turns down the radio and glances sideways at him, sighing. He looks just as miserable as JC feels.
"I didn't know," he says finally. "And C, I don't want you to think-look, we've always been honest with each other, right? Even. Even before. Even when I was a fucking asshole to you all those years, it was always honest."
"I know."
"So I hope you believe me when I say I was just as surprised, okay? And I think. I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I think it fucking sucks that they said anything to the press, even if it was just a maybe or whatever."
"Well. Yeah, thanks. I just. I hate being manipulated. They can't make me want this."
Chris snorts. "I wasn't actually talking about you, princess. I was talking about-what if it doesn't happen? What if you don't come around for real, and Justin went and said, 'Maybe NSYNC will be back, you never know?' and all our fans hear that-"
"NSYNC hasn't existed in over ten years, Chris. We don't have fans."
Chris makes a frustrated sound halfway to a growl that JC usually only hears during sex. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and slides it into park, takes a deep breath, and turns to look at JC. "I'm not trying to be mean here, but I gotta say-fuck you. Okay? Fuck you. I haven't weighed in on this. I kept quiet because I figured you knew how I felt and you knew what it meant to me and I wanted you to decide for yourself. But I'm not just going to sit here and let you deny ten years of our lives, okay? We have fans. We still have fans. And I'm a little sick of this being all about you."
JC stares at his hands, at his fingers laced together, long and pale against the stark black wool of his coat, nails chipped and bitten, cuticles dry and red. He doesn't know what to say; he only knows what he doesn't want to say. That Chris is right. That he's a selfish asshole and he's been a jerk since New York. That Chris has put up with it and him and all he's done is say no in a hundred different ways.
Chris nods and shifts into drive again, merging carefully back onto the road. "That's all I wanted to say."
*
JC helps Joey make dinner while Chris and Lance take the kids out back to build more snow animals. "We need to give Terry the Tortoise some company," Chris says, pulling Jamie's hat down over his ears and tying it off beneath his chin. Lance is helping Emma with her mittens, saying, "We'll make a whole zoo. We can't have Terri getting lonely," and JC can't even look at him right now. He's glad when Chris ushers them out the sliding glass doors and into the snow.
Joey says, "Here, chop these green peppers. You remember how to julienne?"
JC rinses the peppers off, saying, "Since when are you all fancy? Since when do you actually know how to cook?"
"Since Kel said, 'Fuck you, I'm not going to cook for your lazy ass every night.' She has a job, so suddenly she thinks I should do the housework. Women." He grins. "You're lucky, C. I shoulda gone gay. Then it'd be all of us."
"Justin's not gay," JC says, grabbing the cutting board and laying it out on the island. He starts slicing peppers, trying to remember if he's supposed to cut out the middle first and then deciding it doesn't matter because it's all going into the chili anyway, no one's going to care what they look like.
"He doesn't suck dick, but he's pretty gay," Joey says. "The kid's a flamer. I'm pretty sure it's because he grew up with you as a role model."
JC snorts, picking off seeds from one of his green pepper slices. "Yeah, because he really looked up to me all those years. Especially when he was telling me how wrong and out of touch I was."
Joey looks up from the stove where he's browning the meat and frowns. "He does though. Look up to you. I know you never saw it that way, C, but he always respected you. Okay, bring those over here and dump them in the pot."
JC follows orders, trying to ignore the Justin thing, which he knows to be completely false anyway. He still remembers with vivid clarity all those meetings with Jive over Celebrity; he remembers them saying, "We want the next single to be 'Girlfriend.' You'll have your shot next album, JC," and Justin just sitting there not saying anything and not looking at him, either. Justin letting it happen because he knew what he wanted and he knew there wouldn't be a next album while insisting that they were still a group and he would come back, he would.
JC doesn't think ten years later should count towards Justin's promise.
"Respect is being honest," JC says now, dumping the chopped green peppers into the pot with the beans. "Because you know, I put up with a lot of shit for him and I always gave him the benefit of the doubt and then-then Miami happened. And I knew. I guess I'd known since before the end of the last tour. But I didn't really believe it until then."
Joey slides his arm around JC's waist and gives him a sideways hug. "He was just a kid, JC. It wasn't like that for him. He wasn't thinking about the group or his friends, he was thinking about what all his people and the label and the rest of the world was saying. And he was just a kid. You gotta let it go."
"I'm trying," JC says. "It's just a lot to ask all at once."
"And you need to stop being mad at Lance. He opened his mouth when he shouldn't have, but that's Lance. He wants this more than any of us, you gotta understand that."
JC knows that, and he tries during dinner, he really does. But after they're done eating, after five games of checkers with Jamie, after Chris takes the kids upstairs to tuck them in for the night, JC unlocks the liquor cabinet and gets out the aged brandy he's been saving all year that his dad got him last Christmas. He points at the three of them and says, "Sit down. We're having a group meeting."
"We didn't have group meetings when we were a group," Chris says, but he takes his glass of brandy and sits down on the couch next to JC.
"We can't really have a group meeting without Justin," Joey says.
"Call him, then. Get him on fucking speaker phone, I don't care. But honestly, you guys are making me tired with all the visits and deep conversations and I just want to get this out in the open. So come on. Call him. We're having a group meeting."
Joey shrugs and pulls out his phone. He actually reaches Justin and JC can hear his voice through the shitty phone speaker saying, "Joe? What's going on? Am I on speaker phone? You know I hate that shit."
"We're having a group meeting," JC says, loud enough for the phone speaker to pick him up. "So deal with it, Justin."
"What, are all y'all there?"
"Hi, Justin," Lance says, not very enthusiastically. He looks like he's about to be tortured and JC wonders what he's so upset about. He's not the one getting all ganged up on for the past three months.
"Hey, fuckface," Chris says, and raises his glass to the phone.
"I can't believe you're all there without me," Justin mumbles, but JC pointedly ignores that.
"I call to order the first meeting of the band formerly known as NSYNC," Chris says in a loud monotone. "Joshua 'JC' Chasez, the floor is yours."
"Hilarious." JC pauses and looks around at them; Lance still looking like someone killed his puppy and told him there's no Santa Clause, Joey smelling the brandy and wrinkling his nose at it, completely unconcerned; and Chris, looking at him, serious. Waiting. Listening.
Justin says, "What's going on, no one's saying anything. I hate speaker phone!"
"Shut up." JC takes a sip of brandy and clears his throat. "Okay look. I get that y'all want to do this, I do. I'm still not. I'm not convinced it's for the right reasons but I think you're genuine about it and I've known you for fucking ever, so I maybe should give you the benefit of the doubt."
"So is that a yes?" Justin says. "Someone tell me what's going on!"
"It's not a yes, Justin," Lance says, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees, glass held loosely in both hands. He looks at JC, tilting his head to the side a little and smiling. "It's a 'let me think about it.'"
JC swallows and nods. "It's a 'wait and see.' Okay? I mean, come on. It's been ten years. Y'all can wait a few weeks, right? I have a life here. A pretty fucking good one. And these past few years, I've been really happy. For the first time since the group ended, okay? And I don't want that to change, and you know it will if we do this, so I just. Give me time. That's all I'm asking."
Chris slides an arm around JC's shoulder and brushes his thumb along the back of JC's neck. "You're gonna make me cry, fucker," he says, laughing.
"We can give you time," Joey says. "No problem. But we should have a deadline. Not to pressure you, but if we're gonna do this thing, the timing needs to be right."
"January first," JC says. "New year, resolutions, blah blah. It's symbolic, right? I'll tell you January first."
"Are we gonna have another group meeting?" Justin says. "Because I really hate speaker phone so I'd rather just be there."
"Hey, J? Do you hate speaker phone? Because I might've heard something about that once or twice or ten million times during this conversation alone." Chris rolls his eyes at the phone and Justin says, "He's rolling his eyes, isn't he? Lance, make him stop. If this is the way he's gonna be, I ain't sharing a bus with him this time!"
*
Whenever anyone asked, back when people still used to ask him things, JC always said that he was proud of Schizophrenic, and that's true. He loves that album and it's still the truest thing he's ever done, he thinks. It's still the most personal thing he's ever written, even if the songs don't mean the same thing to him that they did when he was writing them.
So it's the truth-he's still proud of that album. But he never said how much it hurt him, either. He never said how painful it was to watch the returns and know it wasn't going to sell, that he wasn't going to reproduce Justin's success, and to know that the next time he saw Justin, Justin's eyes would be filled with I-told-you-sos and his mouth would be full of, you'll-get-em-next-times.
The hurt was like a physical ache and performing was the only thing that made it better, because he could see what his music did to people, in their faces and on their bodies, the way they moved and danced and sang with him. So yes, he really loved that album. Loves it. Even if it's not appropriate for the kids and maybe never will be, he still loves it.
But he sat in that meeting with Justin and the lackey Jive sent over about his sophomore release and listened when Justin said, "You maybe need to start at the beginning again, JC. Just give them something they can work with. Something radio-friendly and marketable and maybe it'll happen this time. And then you can go off and write more songs about aliens and masturbation."
He said it like a joke, but JC knew he was serious and he listened. He listened. And he tried, and they hated it anyway. Worse, he hated it, too. He's glad now that Kate never got released, because it felt like too much of a compromise to him. It compromised him, and he hated that. And he let Justin talk him into it because Justin was releasing his sophomore album and Justin was never coming back to NSYNC and it was the only thing JC had left. And then he didn't even have that.
"It won't be like that this time," Lance says, not looking up from his phone, his thumbs busy over the keyboard, texting texting texting. They're headed for the airport and JC thinks he's almost going to miss Lance. It's been a long time and he was only there for a few days, and they don't talk enough, JC thinks. They need to try harder. It's important.
"Well, Justin would be involved so obviously not. But Lance, I'm telling you this now, it can't be like Schizophrenic but it can't be like Celebrity, either. I quit trying to make my own stuff because fighting with labels over production is shit, okay? I won't be put in that position again. If we do this, I'm making a rule: everyone writes, everyone sings. Period."
"If we do this," Lance says, "I'll sing lead on the National Anthem if you want me to. Fuck, I'll sing 'Gone' with all the 'baby girls,' I don't fucking care. I just want to do this."
"I know." JC knows. It's hard for Lance. JC wishes Lance didn't feel like he failed at everything, because the truth is, JC has always been a little jealous of Lance. Lance tries. He tries harder than any of them, and he puts himself out there and he comes out on the covers of national magazines and he says what he believes in. JC has never done any of that, and it's not like JC regrets who he is because he's pretty happy with the way things turned out, he just wishes Lance could see all that, is all.
"Look, C-it's not going to be how you're thinking. I know you don't want things to change and I get that, because fuck, if I had what you have, I wouldn't want it to change, either."
JC smiles a little. "You could've had it. You turned us both down, remember?"
"Every day, C. Especially when I'm fucking hot young models and not changing diapers. My point is, it's not gonna be crazy like it was and yeah, we'd have to work with Jive and probably Johnny, because Justin's still with him and he's the best, C, you know he is even if he's a backstabbing asshole. But there's no pressure, because we have all the cards and they have every incentive to make us happy."
"I'm already happy," JC says, but he thinks about Chris last night and the feel of him pressed against JC's back, pressed inside and all around, one leg thrown over JC's hip and arms wrapped around his chest, Chris's voice in his ear saying, "I fucking love you." Chris hasn't said it, not in words, but he wants this more than any of them.
JC has always been good at saying no to Chris before, but everything's different now. Maybe, JC thinks, everything has already changed.
*
They fly into DC four days before Christmas to visit JC's grandparents with two suitcases full of presents and two kids who insist that they all wear their bell necklaces because it's Christmas and "every time a bell chimes, a farmer grows a lime!" Emma declares.
"And you know we're going through a very serious lime shortage," Chris adds, buckling her into her seat. JC and Jamie are in the seats across the aisle from them, Jamie fiddling nervously with his new red and green candy cane-shaped barrettes. Jamie isn't a good flier. In fact, he tends to throw up on planes, and JC suspects that Chris chose his seat accordingly.
"Daddy, it's cold," Jamie says, and JC pulls out Jamie's backpack from under the seat, rummaging until he finds Jamie's Redskins hoodie and helping him into it. He pulls the hood up over Jamie's head and tightens the strings until just his face is showing, rests his hand on top of Jamie's head.
"Better?" JC asks. Jamie just nods, leaning heavily against JC's arm and hiding his face against the seat back. JC looks at him and thinks, if they do this reunion, what about the kids? Where do they fit into this if JC's not home to take care of them and make sure they're eating right? He doesn't want to move and he doesn't want to leave them with some nanny while he and Chris go off to record an album and try to relive their glory days. They always agreed that they would raise the kids themselves as best they could because they have the money and they have the luxury of only taking jobs they want, and never ones that mean leaving the kids with someone else.
But if they do this, if it's successful and they tour-what then? Jamie and Emma are starting school-real school, kindergarten, and it's only half days but it's still real school-and JC refuses to miss that, and he refuses to let other people raise their kids.
Their last night in DC, JC's mom finds him at the kitchen table well after everyone else has gone to bed, a piece of leftover pie in front of him and a mug of tea held loosely between his palms.
"You look like you're thinking deep thoughts," she says, and takes the seat across from him, picking up his fork and taking a large bite of pie.
"Not really," JC says, smiling a little. "Not deep. Just. I told them I'd think about it. The reunion thing. And that I'd give them an answer on New Year's day. And I still don't have one."
She points the fork at him. "Josh, your problem has always been that you think too much. Just do what feels right to you, and stop worrying about everyone else, all the pros and cons and what ifs. Sometimes, you just have to go for the things you want."
"How do I know if this is what I really want, though?" JC asks. "How do I know I'm not just doing it because it's what everyone else wants?"
"Honey, you've never done anything in your life just because everyone else wanted you to. You know what your heart says. You just have to learn to listen to it."
That's not the way JC would've said it because it's cheesy and hallmarky, but he knows what she means anyway, and he knows she's right. She's his mom and she's pretty much always been right. She was right about MMC and NSYNC; she was right about Chris and the kids, and she's probably right about this.
And maybe he does think too much, but he's not Chris or Lance, he can't just jump into something and deal with the consequences later. He's not that sort of person and he likes to know that things will work out before he does them, because when they don't, well. He doesn't think he can deal with that kind of disappointment again. He doesn't want to have to.
"What if it doesn't work out?" JC says. "What if it all goes up in flames again?"
"What if it turns out to be the best thing you've ever done?" she says. She puts down the fork and reaches across the table to brush his hair out of his eyes. "You'll never know if you never try."
*
The house in Winter Park is empty when the car drops them off. Heather takes care of the place for the most part, but she's up with the rest of JC's family in DC still, so they have the house to themselves. JC still loves this house, even if it did almost kill him during that hurricane all those years ago. It's beautiful and old and on the lake, and he really loves it. But it's not home.
The kids are exhausted after the day of traveling and JC gets them settled in their room for a nap before finding Chris in the sun room at the back of the house, watching the sun hang bright and clear in the late afternoon sky. He says, "I want you to want to do this, JC. I don't want you to do it because of me or Lance or anyone else. I want you to do it for you, because I think. I think it would be good for you. I think it would be amazing." He looks up at JC and grins. "And I promise I won't be mean this time. You know it was just sexual frustration. You were so damned pretty. It wasn't my fault I had to be an asshole."
JC grins and sinks to his knees by Chris's chair, rests his cheek on Chris's thigh and sighs a little when Chris's fingers slide into his hair. "So what's your excuse now?" he says.
"Now I'm just a bitter old man who could really use a blowjob after a long day."
"I don't know about the other stuff," JC says, reaching for Chris's zipper, "but the blowjob I can do."
They have to be fast because the kids could come down at any minute and Jamie has never been very good with napping, but JC is good at this and he knows exactly what Chris likes after four years together. He knows that if he sucks just at the head and flicks his tongue just so, Chris will tighten his fingers in JC's hair and thrust his hips up; he knows if he pulls off completely and licks all around the shaft, Chris will make that frustrated, half-groaning noise and say, "JC, come on, please." And he knows that the second JC takes him all the way in, relaxes his throat and swallows around him, Chris will say, "Fuck, fuck," and come.
Afterwards, JC climbs up onto the chair with Chris even though it's not really big enough for both of them so he ends up half in Chris's lap anyway. He says, "I'm still thinking about the other thing. I have. I have some concerns about, you know, the kids and how that will all work, but I'm still thinking about it."
"It won't be good if you don't want this as much as we do," Chris says, arms tightening around JC's waist. "I'm not going to be mad or whatever if you say no. Just don't be a pussy about this, C. Don't use the kids as an excuse not to do something just because you're scared."
JC tries to stand up, but Chris just tightens his arms more and he's a lot stronger than JC thinks, he won't let go. "You're such an asshole sometimes," JC says, sinking back down into the chair with a sigh.
"But I'm an honest asshole, and you know I'm right. So just think about it."
*
JC thinks about it. He thinks about it all through Christmas, when the kids are opening their presents and he's putting the training wheels on Emma's new bike and they're walking from door to door in Bev's neighborhood singing carols in the warm night air. He thinks about it while he's teaching Jamie the song he and Justin started in New York that he finally finishes three days after Christmas, and he thinks it might be one of the best things he's ever written. He doesn't want to give it away to anyone, not even Justin. It's a song for the group, and he can't seem to get around that.
He thinks about what his mom said, about listening to his heart. Jamie says, "This is even better than the one about computers," and hums the song all the time in his sweet, high voice until Chris says, "What's that you're singing, kid? It's really good" and starts singing along with him.
On New Year's Eve they let the kids stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop and they do their own little toast, pouring the kids sparkling apple cider into the ugly Jesus-themed Christmas mugs that Lance sent them last year as (JC hopes) a joke gift. They tuck the kids into bed but two hours later Emma wakes up screaming from a nightmare and it's up to JC to calm her down because Chris decided to meet up with Lance and Joey to party, but JC wanted to stay home because he had thinking to do. He still hasn't made up his mind about the group so he definitely has thinking to do, he thinks as he rubs Emma's back and carries her down to the kitchen.
"My mom always said that you can't tell a nightmare on an empty stomach or it might come true," JC says, setting her down on the kitchen island counter and giving her a gingerbread cookie shaped like a star. Emma sniffs loudly and rubs at her eyes before taking a small bite, telling JC all about the aliens that climbed in through the window and tried to eat her.
"Aliens can be scary," JC says, "but only if you don't know what they're about. Maybe they were scary in the dream because they looked different than you're used to, but that doesn't mean they're bad. Maybe just a little different."
"What if he wanted to eat me, though?" Emma says.
"I'm pretty sure aliens are vegetarians," JC explains. "He probably just wanted to say hello."
Emma seems okay with that explanation and she falls asleep almost as soon as JC puts her back in bed, but he's pretty sure he didn't really handle that very well. He should've said aliens don't exist, but he thinks about being four years old and how it seemed a lot more likely that aliens existed and were vegetarians than that they didn't exist at all. Still, he feels strung out and thin and pressured, and he hates this feeling, like nothing he does lately is right and everyone's against him. It's only just after one in Louisiana and JC calls Britney because she's the only person he can think of who won't think he's insane for telling his kid about vegetarian aliens.
"Oh, JC," Britney says when she's done laughing. "Thank you. No, seriously, thanks for that. You're so special sometimes."
JC leans back against the couch and sighs. "It gets easier, right? The whole kids thing? Because it feels really hard right now and I'm pretty sure I'm going to fuck everything up very soon."
"As someone who fucked everything up within, like, minutes of birthing my babies, I can say that you are doing fine. Besides, aliens could totally exist. Maybe they're just extinct or something. Like unicorns."
JC ignores that, because he's a nice guy and he doesn't want to shatter any illusions Britney might have about the past existence of unicorns. She's a nice person with a good heart and she tries really hard to be a good mom. If she wants to believe in unicorns, JC's not going to be the one to tell her differently. It does make him worry that twenty years from now, Emma might still think aliens are real. Fuck.
"So, did Lance tell you about the whole reunion thing? And how it's all up to me because I'm the only person who doesn't think getting the group back together for some pathetic last hurrah is a good idea?"
"Yeah, he did. And you know, good for you. You have a good life, JC. You never really seemed happy doing the whole popstar thing and you have to think about that. Make the decision that's right for you."
"Yeah," JC says. He rubs his fingers against the beaded seam on the arm of the couch. "I'm just not sure what that is right now."
"Maybe you don't wanna hear this, but I think we're a lot alike, and that's what I did, and I've never been happier. No fucking paparazzi following me around, no crazy rumors, no worrying about performances and what people would say if I wore the same thing twice or I went out without make up."
"I'd never go out without make up," JC says, smiling a little.
"Well, duh." She giggles. "Look, honey. No one can tell you what makes you happy. And don't you let fucking Justin pressure you into this, either, okay? He walked away from y'all, and you don't owe him anything. If you don't want to do it, they have to like, respect that and shit."
"I don't want to be the one responsible for this…not happening," JC says. "I wish it wasn't up to me."
"It's not fair," Britney says. "But I think maybe it's time for you to be a little selfish? Think about what it would mean. The whole reunion thing. Promotion. Interviews. All the awkward questions about the past however many years. Performing old songs and everyone saying the same old shit they always said about y'all that always made you so mad in the first place. Oh lord, imagine you going on The View now, okay? It's like your worst nightmare, JC."
"I don't think that show is even on anymore," JC says, because suddenly he's not sure what else he can say or how to answer her questions. He knows what he's supposed to say. That the idea of doing promo and answering questions about how he's gay now and are they all gay and about the kids and his private life that he doesn't really want to share. He's supposed to say that the idea of performing with the group again makes him cringe in embarrassment-a bunch of 30-something former teen idols trying to relive their glory days-that it's ludicrous to even try and that no one will take them seriously, again, and he'll be miserable about it, again.
But instead, he thinks about that day in Atlantis at the aquarium, the sound of their voices blending together around him, and how happy he was for that one blinding moment. It wasn't all bad, he thinks. It wasn't even mostly bad. It was pretty good, actually. The part where they made music together, the connection he felt singing with these four people who sometimes made him want to scream in frustration but mostly made him feel like he was doing something bigger than himself. The part where he loved them all even when they made him crazy-that part was more than good.
Britney says, "You're allowed to say 'no,' JC. They're not going to be mad, okay? Just remember that. You're allowed to say 'no' if it's not what you want. It took me a really fucking long time to learn that, and even longer to actually, like, figure out what I really wanted, but I'm pretty happy now and that's why. Don't let them guilt you into this, okay? You don't owe them. You can love them and they'll always be your friends or whatever, but that doesn't mean you owe them this."
JC says, "I guess I still really need to think about things," and finishes the conversation on automatic, because he really does need to think about this. He sits up and leans his elbows on his knees, staring at his phone without really seeing it, Britney's words echoing in his head. He could say no, he knows he could. And they wouldn't even be angry at him, not really. They'd understand, even if it would disappoint them. But he can say no, if he wants to.
If.
*
He's still thinking about it on the drive to the WEG compound for the second ever official group meeting of the band formerly known as NSYNC, and he still doesn't know what the fuck he's going to say until he walks into the lounge and sees all of them sitting there, waiting for him, Chris standing next to him, lacing his fingers with JC's and saying softly, so only JC can hear, "I'm here, whatever you decide."
JC says, "I have three rules. One: we're doing a full-length album, none of this greatest hits bullshit. And it'll be our songs done our way and Jive can fuck off if they don't like it. Two: if we tour, we have to be done by September first, because my kids aren't going to bus school and being socialized by boy banders, or they'll end up like Justin and no one wants that."
"Hey!" Justin says. "There's nothing wrong with-"
"And three," JC says, "and this is the most important thing: everyone writes, everyone sings."
"Period," Lance says, smiling. Joey stands up and yanks JC into a hard hug, Chris's hand still clasped in JC's, and when he lets go, they're all just standing there, grinning like idiots and JC thinks, this is the right decision. He feels it in his heart, just like his mom said, because she really is always right, and this is right, too. Britney was right, too, because he's not letting anyone talk him into doing something he doesn't want to do. He wants this, like she said-he figured out what he wants and it's this, it's them together again, and it's exactly the way it's meant to be.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" JC says. "Let's get started."
continued from here.
Having Justin in the house isn't as awkward or strange as it could be because there are also about a hundred other people there, or at least that's how it feels to JC. His parents fly in early that morning and Bev and her husband and Taylor all show up within an hour of each other, Taylor driving in from Wellesley with her roommate, a shy, quiet girl from San Francisco who couldn't afford to fly home for the short holiday. Taylor introduces her quickly and pulls her up the stairs to take over the kids' room, and Chris leans over, whispers to JC, "I think my sister is a lesbian now. And she has good taste."
Chris has to leave to get Justin from the airport, and by the time he gets back, JC and his mom have already started the pie at the kitchen table, with Emma kneeling up on her chair to watch while they peel and slice the apples into thin strips. The pie thing is a tradition from when JC was a kid, before Tyler was born, even. From before JC was officially adopted, when his mother used to leave him with Karen and Roy for long stretches at a time, but especially on holidays. JC never questioned being left because she always came back, eventually, and he liked Karen and Roy; liked sleeping in a bed that was a real bed and not a cot at a shelter, liked eating food that came on plates and not trays, liked how everything smelled clean and warm and he could take a real bath before bedtime.
So the pie thing was a tradition from way back, and now Emma joins in, watching them and stealing apple slices and making sure all the peels and cores go into the trash and not the bowl. She says, "I want to measure! Daddy, I get to measure, right?"
JC grins and says, "Okay, but you have to be very careful. Let your grandma show you how. She's the master of measuring."
His mom smiles at him and JC can't help but smile back. It's tradition and it's family, and he remembers what she told him when he first found out about Emily's accident, and what Chris wanted to do. She said, "Honey, you know better than anyone that family isn't about blood and genes and all that. We make our own families." That's true, he thinks, and watches as his mom shows Emma how to top off a cup of flour by skimming her finger along the top.
"Can I help?" Justin asks from the doorway, and JC frowns. Justin isn't part of the tradition.
But his mom smiles and says, "Justin, honey! It's so nice to see you" and then Justin is leaning down to hug her and Emma is staring at him with wide eyes, saying, "Daddy, who's that?" and spilling flour all over the table.
"I'm Justin," Justin says, holding his hand out. Emma stares at him curiously as he takes her hand in his and shakes it, dusting flour everywhere. "You must be Emma. Very pleased to meet you."
"You're weird," Emma says. Her eyes narrow as Justin takes the empty chair across from her at the table. "You can help," she says, "but I get to measure. Daddy said. Measuring is my job."
His mom gives him a questioning look but JC just shrugs. He knows why Justin is here, but not really; he doesn't know why Justin is here now, during a family holiday when the house is already so crowded that Justin's probably going to have to sleep on the pull out couch in the den, and when Heather and Tyler show up tomorrow, he'll have to share that with Tyler. It would be easier, JC thinks, for Justin to come when no one is here, for him to try to convince JC without all these distractions. So no, he doesn't know why Justin invited himself, and he doesn't plan on making it any easier for Justin, either.
Justin deserves to suffer a little. Or maybe a lot, JC thinks, smiling as he cores the last apple.
Dinner that night is pizza and beer and Taylor's friend Jenny saying, "Oh my god, you're Justin Timberlake," and Chris saying, "Believe me, he knows. Don't encourage him, or we won't be able to fit his head in the house." Jamie watches Justin eat a slice of pepperoni pizza and says loudly and pointedly, "Pepperoni is made from animals and there are places where they keep pigs in very small cages and they can't even move. Pigs are smarter than dogs." Justin puts his half-eaten slice of pizza back on his paper plate. He doesn't pick it up again.
The kids are in with them because Taylor and her friend are in their room and the parents are taking up the guest rooms. Chris helps them set up their Disney princesses pop-up tent and leaves JC to get sheets and blankets to make up the pull-out in the den for Justin. Justin takes one side of the fitted sheet to help and JC says, "You know, you don't have to do this."
Justin looks at him, head cocked to one side. "Do what?" he says, folding and tucking in his side of the flat sheet in a perfect hospital corner.
"Play nice like this. Pretend like you're here to, I don't know. Pretend like you're here for something besides convincing me to do the reunion."
"JC." Justin stands up straight, bites his lip. "I'm not here because of the group, okay? I'm here because you and Chris are my best friends and I've known you for like twenty years. And look, I know this is fucked because I haven't-I've been a shitty friend for like, half that time and I sort of. I forgot, you know? How much you guys mean to me. And I thought. I wanted to meet your kids, and just. I want to be here. It's not about the band. It's about you guys."
JC says, "I hope you mean that." He's not sure what he's supposed to be feeling right now, because he never let himself think that Justin would be back in his life like this. He's not even sure he wants Justin back in his life, because forgiving is a lot different than being over something, but it's not exactly his choice, either. There's Chris, who forgave Justin a long time ago, and it's not just about JC anymore. He shrugs. He doesn't know what else to say.
*
It's a busy day for everyone like holidays are, but the pies are made and Chris recruits Justin to help with the macaroni and cheese while JC's dad and Tyler take over turkey duty, so JC's left to entertain the kids and the moms, which is fine with him. They watch the Macy's Parade with Jamie and Emma sitting on the rug in front of the coffee table, tracing each other's hands to make turkeys out of construction paper and glue and feathers leftover from a turquoise boa that Chris found in the attic last month.
Taylor says, "I remember when you guys were in the parade. Mom had to cover my ears because the screaming was so loud I started crying."
"You were like, six. There's no way you remember that," JC says, and Bev elbows him in the ribs.
"Don't you talk to my daughter like that," she says. "She remembers just fine. What I remember is Chris's hair. Those braids! I tried to get him to cut them off so many times, but he never listened."
"Daddy, you were in the parade?" Jamie looks up from his gluing, a feather stuck to his cheek. Probably on purpose, JC thinks, and smiles.
"It was a long time ago," he says. "Me and Chris and Justin and Lance and Joey were all in the parade."
Bev and JC's mom exchange glances and JC's mom says, "In fact, I just happen to have the video in my luggage. Taylor, why don't you run up to the second guest room and grab it. It's right on the dresser."
"Mom," JC says, feeling slightly panicked, "why did you-we don't even have a VCR."
"It's a good thing I had all the old tapes transferred to DVDs, then, isn't it?" she says, raising one eyebrow. "Emma, why don't you go get Chris and Justin from the kitchen, okay dear? I know they'll want to see this."
Taylor comes back with the disc and Emma pulls Justin and Chris into the living room, walking backwards with her hands grasping one of theirs each, saying, "Grandma says you have to come!"
Chris squeezes onto the couch next to him, Emma climbing up to lounge across both of them while Justin settles on the arm of the couch, watching Taylor pop the disc into the DVD player with a frown on his face. "What's going on?" he says, but then the screen flickers and it's them-well, them from fifteen years ago-singing 'I Want You Back,' which JC hasn't heard in a really really long time and now he remembers why. He really hates this song.
"I really hate this song," Justin says. "God, how many times did we sing it? Like a million?"
"At least," Chris says. Justin comes into view on the screen, looking so incredibly young that JC just stares for a minute because he forgot how young Justin was. How young they all were. Justin sounds like shit, actually, voice cracking in a few places, and Chris pokes him in the thigh every time it happens, because he knows JC hears it, too.
Jamie says, "Daddy, what's wrong with your hair?" and JC and Justin say, "He has pineapple head!" Justin catches his eye and JC can't help it. He doesn't want to laugh and he doesn't want to share this moment but it's sort of undeniable. The history and everything that's happened, good and bad and in between-it's all completely undeniable and it's not hard to remember now, with Justin's bleached-to-death curls bouncing across the screen and his annoying, braying laughter right here in the room how it felt to be in the group, and why he wanted to go back to it so badly after Schizophrenic.
Bev sniffs and says, "You boys were really something."
"Something scary and lame!" Taylor says.
"I like it," Emma says, and starts singing very loudly, "It's hard to say I'm sorry!" while Jamie covers his ears. JC doesn't blame him. She's a really bad singer, and it doesn't help when Justin joins in, just as loudly and just as off-key. Chris catches his eye and JC knows what he's thinking without him saying it-that Justin is trying, that Justin knows he fucked up and he wants them to be friends again, that he wants them to be a group again. Justin's never exactly been subtle even if he hasn't always been honest.
They're all looking at him except for Justin and Emma, who are still singing along while Emma tries to follow the dance moves on the television. JC says, "You know, I really don't appreciate being manipulated."
His mom snorts. "Then stop being so stubborn, dear. You brought this on yourself."
JC looks at Chris helplessly. He's not sure what he's supposed to say or do but he knows what he feels-like everyone is ganging up on him and they don't understand his reasons or maybe they just don't want to. Like they don't care about his feelings and it shouldn't have to be him versus Justin but it feels like that. And it feels like Justin is winning and JC should just give in because he's the only one who cares what an utterly shitty idea this is and he's the only one with any pride left. It feels like Justin is winning because that's how it's always been, and JC knows his mom is right but that doesn't change how he feels. He doesn't need to say anything to Chris, though, because Chris gets it, even if he doesn't agree.
Chris squeezes his hand, threads their fingers together and presses a soft, dry kiss to JC's cheek. "Okay, enough torturing JC for one day," he says. "Besides, I think the food is probably ready now. I think we should all go eat. And maybe turn this song off before my ears start bleeding."
*
Everything changed when Emily died. One day, JC was barely in a relationship and still trying to figure out how he ended up with Chris pretty much living at his house, and the next day he was married with kids in Bethany, Connecticut. So yeah, it was a pretty big change.
It didn't really happen like that, but it happened fast and that's the way it feels, sometimes. A week after the accident and four days after the funeral, Chris got into bed, stared at the cover of JC's novel for a moment, and said, "I don't know how to say this."
JC set his book aside. "You always know what to say."
"Nah, I'm just good at faking it."
JC touched the back of Chris's hand where it was resting between them and said, "My dad always said, you know, sometimes it's better to just get it out. Anticipation is the worst part of bad news."
"It's not." Chris looked at him then and JC had never seen him so serious and sober. He suddenly looked every bit as old as he was and JC thought, he's finally growing up. "It's not bad," Chris continued. "It's just-different. No, that's not the right word. I'm just gonna say it. Emily, she wanted me to take the kids if anything ever happened to her and my mom offered but she's already raised her kids and I'm gonna do it. I want you to know I'm gonna do it, and I hope that you'll-I want you with me. So. That's all."
JC didn't know what to say and he didn't know what to think. When it was just them, nothing had to change. They could stay the same and his life could stay the same and maybe in a few months he'd get bored and restless like all the other times he found himself in a relationship; he'd go back to LA and his real life there and maybe get back into the studio, even if nothing ever came of it. Eric could always find him work if he wanted to act, and nothing had to change.
"I don't know," JC said, and Chris nodded.
"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I just wanted you to know."
JC went to visit his mom. He stayed in Chicago for a week and it was nice, just being there alone with his folks. Usually it was all of them and grandparents and cousins and all that, and JC never really got the chance to have his parents all to himself, so it was nice, but he couldn't stop thinking about Chris, wondering what he was doing and how he was handling everything. JC didn't even know the twins' names. They were less than a year old and JC had only been with Chris for six months, and not even that because six months ago they were just fucking whenever they were both in the same place at the same time. The relationship thing was new, and he didn't even know their names.
"I can tell something's troubling you," his mom said on his last night there. JC couldn't sleep, was sitting at the kitchen table with a leftover piece of apple pie and a mug of the organic spicy sweet Good Earth tea he liked that his mom always kept stocked for him. She sat down across from him and smiled a little. "How's Chris?"
"What? He's. I don't know. He's Chris. Why are you asking me about him?"
His mom snorted. "Honey, Bev and I are still good friends. Don't act surprised that we know about you two."
JC looked down at the table, the same battered old thing they'd had in their kitchen in Bowie forever ago because his mom didn't believe in throwing out perfectly serviceable furniture just because they could afford new. He traced a finger along the jagged scratch Tyler had left one morning trying to chop open a grapefruit and said, "He's going to adopt Emily's kids. And he wants. I don't know, but he said he wanted me to be there, and I don't know if I can. I don't know if I'm ready for that."
"Do you love him?"
"I. It's still new." JC wasn't ready for that question, either. He wasn't sure he'd ever be.
His mom frowned. "Josh. You've known Chris since you were a teenager. This isn't new. It's just a different way of knowing him." She covered his hand with hers. "I can't tell you what to do. You need to decide what's best for yourself the way you always have. But I will tell you this. Chris is a good man and he cares about you, and that's not something you find every day."
"It's just all so fast. Chris and kids and-adopting. We can't even get married in Florida. I'm not even out and Chris isn't out and it just doesn't seem like a good idea."
"No, it seems like a hard idea, but that doesn't mean it wouldn't be good."
"Adopting, though. I don't know if I could. If I'd even be good at it. Chris, he's their family. But I'd just be some guy."
Her fingers tightened around his and she said, " Honey, you know better than anyone that family isn't about blood and genes and all that. We make our own families."
She smiled at him and JC thought, I'm the luckiest guy in the world. He said, "I know. You're right, I know." And suddenly, just like that, he did.
So it didn't happen over night but it happened pretty fast, and a month later they were driving to Connecticut with a baby in the backseat of each car and a house and a wedding and a life waiting for them. JC has doubts sometimes, of course he does, but he never has any regrets about the way things happened. There was no press, no big announcement-"Hey, we’re gay! And married! With kids!"-they weren't Lance and it was a different situation and a different time. People found out, fans and gossip magazines and all that, but no one really cared and JC was pretty happy to ignore all the bullshit and live his life.
His new life, the life that he and Chris were making, together.
*
JC should've known that he wouldn't get away that easily when Justin left the day after Thanksgiving without another word about the reunion or another video ambush. He should've known, but he stupidly decided that they had their say and Justin did what he needed to do and now they could all move on without the whole getting the group back together for one last depressing, pathetic, New Kids-style hurrah.
He should've known better.
For one thing, Emma spends the next two weeks constantly singing their old songs whenever she gets a chance, and JC suspects that Chris is secretly supplying her with old CDs and videos because, as out of tune as she is, there's no way JC could not recognize the sounds of 'Girlfriend' being yelled loudly from the backyard while Emma and Jamie and Kyle attempt to build something vaguely resembling a snow man while Chris watches from the snow chair he built, drinking hot chocolate from his coffee thermos. JC stares at him pointedly through the glass of the kitchen window and Chris just shrugs and joins in, "Won't you be my girlfriend?"
Eventually they come inside and it's just a flurry of activity, stripping off hats and gloves and snow suits with Jamie saying, "Hurry hurry, I have to pee!" and running off down the hall in socked feet to make it to the bathroom in time. JC hands out mugs of hot chocolate and Kyle says, "Does this have marshmallows? Because mom says marshmallows are made of horse feet."
Emma says, "Horse feet are yummy," and takes a sip of her chocolate, holding on tight when Chris lifts her onto one of the bar stools to sit at the island. "Daddy," she says to JC, "did you hear my song? We made a snow turtle and I learned a new song but I don't know the dance yet and Daddy said you would teach me because he's too old."
Kyle says, "It's a snow tortoise," and JC thinks he really doesn't like that kid.
Soon, Emma is hounding him hourly to teach her their old dances, as if he remembers them, and Jamie keeps insisting on learning more of the song JC and Justin started in New York and never finished.
"That's all I know, baby," JC tries to tell him, but Jamie just frowns and says, "Then you have to make more and teach it to me."
In bed that night, JC tries to ignore Chris's hand on the inside of his thigh. He's reading, and also he's mad at Chris for turning their kids against him, so it's a moral imperative that he not let Chris have access to his dick because yes. Chris should suffer, too. He pushes Chris's hands away and says, "This book is really good. I think I'm just going to keep reading it until it's time to go to sleep. I was going to give you a blowjob tonight, but then you taught my kid the words to 'Digital Getdown' and now I don't think I can ever have sex again."
Chris grins and says, "Okay, that was maybe inappropriate, but it was pretty fucking funny, you gotta admit. She'll forget them tomorrow. Besides, I thought that song was about the internet?"
"It's about the changing ways we communicate as human beings in a rapidly evolving computer age and-oh, fuck you." JC tosses his book aside and crosses his arms over his chest. "This isn't going to work, you know. I'm not going to suddenly want to get the group back together just because the kids know it existed, now."
"No, I know," Chris says, tugging at one of JC's arms until he can nudge himself underneath, cheek resting warm against the bare skin of JC's chest and one arm thrown across JC's waist to palm his hip. "That's why Joey and Lance are coming to visit. They'll be here tomorrow." JC can feel Chris's smile against his skin and he wants to be mad, he is mad, damnit, but JC doesn't let go and he doesn't move away, either. He's tired of resisting and tired of fighting it. He still doesn't think they can change his mind, but he's willing to let them try. He owes them that, anyway, he thinks, and pulls Chris closer.
*
The good thing about Joey and Lance being there two weeks before Christmas is that JC and Chris can drive up to Hartford to go Christmas shopping without the distraction of two four-year-olds listing everything they want Santa to bring them.
The bad thing about Joey and Lance being there is that Chris and JC have to go Christmas shopping.
The stuff for the kids was easy; they ordered that online ages ago and had it sent to Bev's house in Orlando because that's where they'll be Christmas morning, but there's still something for the parents and all the siblings, plus JC's grandparents and cousins and all of Chris's nieces and nephews.
"Our family is too big," JC says, frowning at his list of names. They're sitting at one of the small round plastic tables fueling up on caffeine before the actual torture begins, and it's this right here that almost makes JC miss the old Christmases before the kids, before he had to go to three different houses in two different states. Chris sold his house in Florida when they moved, but JC still has the place in Winter Park and that's where they stay, because Bev's house isn't big enough for all Chris's sisters and their families, plus the four of them. JC takes a sip of his peppermint mocha and frowns some more. He used to really love shopping. Now it just feels like a chore.
"I'm not gonna argue there," Chris says, "but I can't believe you made a list, you freak. It's not like I'm gonna forget one of my sisters or something."
"Okay, sure, but are you gonna remember to get something for Molly's husband's daughter's partner?"
Chris looks at him. "Okay fine. But the list is still freaky. I say we just get all the women scarves and all the men socks and all the kids puppies. Everyone likes scarves and everyone needs socks and you can't go wrong with puppies!"
"I call not it on the dog car, then," JC says dryly, putting down his list in favor of concentrating on the sweet, sweet caffeine. Chris picks up the sheet of paper, folds it in half, and neatly tears it in two.
"This will go faster if we split up," he says. "I'll meet you at the Mac store in two hours."
They split up and JC's list has all the parents, Tyler and Heather, and some of Chris's nieces and nephews, next to which JC had the forethought to write their ages and genders so he knows he's not getting an Easy Bake Oven for Chris's twelve-year-old nephew, even though JC would've been really happy to get an Easy Bake Oven when he was twelve. Heather never shared.
By the time he finds the Mac store, he's fifteen minutes late to meet Chris, but he got something for everyone on his list plus another peppermint mocha, so he's feeling pretty good. Standing next to the display case of the newest line of iPods, Chris smiles and shrugs at something the saleswoman says, and JC hears him reply, "Oh well, you never know what's gonna happen."
JC nudges Chris with his free elbow, bags hanging off his wrists. "You ready to go?"
"This woman-Amy, see, she has a nametag, her name is Amy-was just telling me something really interesting. Apparently, everyone thinks NSYNC is going to reunite."
JC narrows his eyes at him. He wants to say something cutting and mean but they're in the middle of a store and there's a woman-an Amy-staring at them like she really wants to believe. JC blinks and says, "Well, I've never heard that one before."
"Lance gave an interview about it to Entertainment Tonight," Chris says, mouth twitching like he wants to grin.
"Of course he did. I'm sorry, we should really-"
"And so did Justin."
JC doesn't say anything for a long moment. He doesn't want to think about this right now, or maybe ever. He doesn't want to have to deal with the relentless freight train of Justin and Lance, and he doesn't want to think that they might actually be combining forces to make him agree to this reunion. They always said they'd only get back together when they were all ready, and JC isn't ready. JC doesn't want to be ready, and he thinks the rest of them should respect that the way they had to respect Justin's decision to quit the group in the first place. This is disrespectful, is what it is, and unfair, and just plain mean. Not that JC really expects any less from Justin and Lance, and he realizes suddenly that he's about fifteen seconds away from throwing a tantrum in the middle of the crowded Apple Store on a Saturday afternoon in a suburban shopping mall.
JC doesn't want his life to change and he doesn't need anything more than what he has, which he happens to think is a pretty damn good life. He doesn't want anything to change, but it looks like he might not get a choice.
The drive home is tense and quiet and JC doesn't feel like he's going to start screaming in the middle of the mall anymore, but he doesn't feel very good, either. Chris turns down the radio and glances sideways at him, sighing. He looks just as miserable as JC feels.
"I didn't know," he says finally. "And C, I don't want you to think-look, we've always been honest with each other, right? Even. Even before. Even when I was a fucking asshole to you all those years, it was always honest."
"I know."
"So I hope you believe me when I say I was just as surprised, okay? And I think. I can't believe I'm gonna say this, but I think it fucking sucks that they said anything to the press, even if it was just a maybe or whatever."
"Well. Yeah, thanks. I just. I hate being manipulated. They can't make me want this."
Chris snorts. "I wasn't actually talking about you, princess. I was talking about-what if it doesn't happen? What if you don't come around for real, and Justin went and said, 'Maybe NSYNC will be back, you never know?' and all our fans hear that-"
"NSYNC hasn't existed in over ten years, Chris. We don't have fans."
Chris makes a frustrated sound halfway to a growl that JC usually only hears during sex. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and slides it into park, takes a deep breath, and turns to look at JC. "I'm not trying to be mean here, but I gotta say-fuck you. Okay? Fuck you. I haven't weighed in on this. I kept quiet because I figured you knew how I felt and you knew what it meant to me and I wanted you to decide for yourself. But I'm not just going to sit here and let you deny ten years of our lives, okay? We have fans. We still have fans. And I'm a little sick of this being all about you."
JC stares at his hands, at his fingers laced together, long and pale against the stark black wool of his coat, nails chipped and bitten, cuticles dry and red. He doesn't know what to say; he only knows what he doesn't want to say. That Chris is right. That he's a selfish asshole and he's been a jerk since New York. That Chris has put up with it and him and all he's done is say no in a hundred different ways.
Chris nods and shifts into drive again, merging carefully back onto the road. "That's all I wanted to say."
*
JC helps Joey make dinner while Chris and Lance take the kids out back to build more snow animals. "We need to give Terry the Tortoise some company," Chris says, pulling Jamie's hat down over his ears and tying it off beneath his chin. Lance is helping Emma with her mittens, saying, "We'll make a whole zoo. We can't have Terri getting lonely," and JC can't even look at him right now. He's glad when Chris ushers them out the sliding glass doors and into the snow.
Joey says, "Here, chop these green peppers. You remember how to julienne?"
JC rinses the peppers off, saying, "Since when are you all fancy? Since when do you actually know how to cook?"
"Since Kel said, 'Fuck you, I'm not going to cook for your lazy ass every night.' She has a job, so suddenly she thinks I should do the housework. Women." He grins. "You're lucky, C. I shoulda gone gay. Then it'd be all of us."
"Justin's not gay," JC says, grabbing the cutting board and laying it out on the island. He starts slicing peppers, trying to remember if he's supposed to cut out the middle first and then deciding it doesn't matter because it's all going into the chili anyway, no one's going to care what they look like.
"He doesn't suck dick, but he's pretty gay," Joey says. "The kid's a flamer. I'm pretty sure it's because he grew up with you as a role model."
JC snorts, picking off seeds from one of his green pepper slices. "Yeah, because he really looked up to me all those years. Especially when he was telling me how wrong and out of touch I was."
Joey looks up from the stove where he's browning the meat and frowns. "He does though. Look up to you. I know you never saw it that way, C, but he always respected you. Okay, bring those over here and dump them in the pot."
JC follows orders, trying to ignore the Justin thing, which he knows to be completely false anyway. He still remembers with vivid clarity all those meetings with Jive over Celebrity; he remembers them saying, "We want the next single to be 'Girlfriend.' You'll have your shot next album, JC," and Justin just sitting there not saying anything and not looking at him, either. Justin letting it happen because he knew what he wanted and he knew there wouldn't be a next album while insisting that they were still a group and he would come back, he would.
JC doesn't think ten years later should count towards Justin's promise.
"Respect is being honest," JC says now, dumping the chopped green peppers into the pot with the beans. "Because you know, I put up with a lot of shit for him and I always gave him the benefit of the doubt and then-then Miami happened. And I knew. I guess I'd known since before the end of the last tour. But I didn't really believe it until then."
Joey slides his arm around JC's waist and gives him a sideways hug. "He was just a kid, JC. It wasn't like that for him. He wasn't thinking about the group or his friends, he was thinking about what all his people and the label and the rest of the world was saying. And he was just a kid. You gotta let it go."
"I'm trying," JC says. "It's just a lot to ask all at once."
"And you need to stop being mad at Lance. He opened his mouth when he shouldn't have, but that's Lance. He wants this more than any of us, you gotta understand that."
JC knows that, and he tries during dinner, he really does. But after they're done eating, after five games of checkers with Jamie, after Chris takes the kids upstairs to tuck them in for the night, JC unlocks the liquor cabinet and gets out the aged brandy he's been saving all year that his dad got him last Christmas. He points at the three of them and says, "Sit down. We're having a group meeting."
"We didn't have group meetings when we were a group," Chris says, but he takes his glass of brandy and sits down on the couch next to JC.
"We can't really have a group meeting without Justin," Joey says.
"Call him, then. Get him on fucking speaker phone, I don't care. But honestly, you guys are making me tired with all the visits and deep conversations and I just want to get this out in the open. So come on. Call him. We're having a group meeting."
Joey shrugs and pulls out his phone. He actually reaches Justin and JC can hear his voice through the shitty phone speaker saying, "Joe? What's going on? Am I on speaker phone? You know I hate that shit."
"We're having a group meeting," JC says, loud enough for the phone speaker to pick him up. "So deal with it, Justin."
"What, are all y'all there?"
"Hi, Justin," Lance says, not very enthusiastically. He looks like he's about to be tortured and JC wonders what he's so upset about. He's not the one getting all ganged up on for the past three months.
"Hey, fuckface," Chris says, and raises his glass to the phone.
"I can't believe you're all there without me," Justin mumbles, but JC pointedly ignores that.
"I call to order the first meeting of the band formerly known as NSYNC," Chris says in a loud monotone. "Joshua 'JC' Chasez, the floor is yours."
"Hilarious." JC pauses and looks around at them; Lance still looking like someone killed his puppy and told him there's no Santa Clause, Joey smelling the brandy and wrinkling his nose at it, completely unconcerned; and Chris, looking at him, serious. Waiting. Listening.
Justin says, "What's going on, no one's saying anything. I hate speaker phone!"
"Shut up." JC takes a sip of brandy and clears his throat. "Okay look. I get that y'all want to do this, I do. I'm still not. I'm not convinced it's for the right reasons but I think you're genuine about it and I've known you for fucking ever, so I maybe should give you the benefit of the doubt."
"So is that a yes?" Justin says. "Someone tell me what's going on!"
"It's not a yes, Justin," Lance says, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees, glass held loosely in both hands. He looks at JC, tilting his head to the side a little and smiling. "It's a 'let me think about it.'"
JC swallows and nods. "It's a 'wait and see.' Okay? I mean, come on. It's been ten years. Y'all can wait a few weeks, right? I have a life here. A pretty fucking good one. And these past few years, I've been really happy. For the first time since the group ended, okay? And I don't want that to change, and you know it will if we do this, so I just. Give me time. That's all I'm asking."
Chris slides an arm around JC's shoulder and brushes his thumb along the back of JC's neck. "You're gonna make me cry, fucker," he says, laughing.
"We can give you time," Joey says. "No problem. But we should have a deadline. Not to pressure you, but if we're gonna do this thing, the timing needs to be right."
"January first," JC says. "New year, resolutions, blah blah. It's symbolic, right? I'll tell you January first."
"Are we gonna have another group meeting?" Justin says. "Because I really hate speaker phone so I'd rather just be there."
"Hey, J? Do you hate speaker phone? Because I might've heard something about that once or twice or ten million times during this conversation alone." Chris rolls his eyes at the phone and Justin says, "He's rolling his eyes, isn't he? Lance, make him stop. If this is the way he's gonna be, I ain't sharing a bus with him this time!"
*
Whenever anyone asked, back when people still used to ask him things, JC always said that he was proud of Schizophrenic, and that's true. He loves that album and it's still the truest thing he's ever done, he thinks. It's still the most personal thing he's ever written, even if the songs don't mean the same thing to him that they did when he was writing them.
So it's the truth-he's still proud of that album. But he never said how much it hurt him, either. He never said how painful it was to watch the returns and know it wasn't going to sell, that he wasn't going to reproduce Justin's success, and to know that the next time he saw Justin, Justin's eyes would be filled with I-told-you-sos and his mouth would be full of, you'll-get-em-next-times.
The hurt was like a physical ache and performing was the only thing that made it better, because he could see what his music did to people, in their faces and on their bodies, the way they moved and danced and sang with him. So yes, he really loved that album. Loves it. Even if it's not appropriate for the kids and maybe never will be, he still loves it.
But he sat in that meeting with Justin and the lackey Jive sent over about his sophomore release and listened when Justin said, "You maybe need to start at the beginning again, JC. Just give them something they can work with. Something radio-friendly and marketable and maybe it'll happen this time. And then you can go off and write more songs about aliens and masturbation."
He said it like a joke, but JC knew he was serious and he listened. He listened. And he tried, and they hated it anyway. Worse, he hated it, too. He's glad now that Kate never got released, because it felt like too much of a compromise to him. It compromised him, and he hated that. And he let Justin talk him into it because Justin was releasing his sophomore album and Justin was never coming back to NSYNC and it was the only thing JC had left. And then he didn't even have that.
"It won't be like that this time," Lance says, not looking up from his phone, his thumbs busy over the keyboard, texting texting texting. They're headed for the airport and JC thinks he's almost going to miss Lance. It's been a long time and he was only there for a few days, and they don't talk enough, JC thinks. They need to try harder. It's important.
"Well, Justin would be involved so obviously not. But Lance, I'm telling you this now, it can't be like Schizophrenic but it can't be like Celebrity, either. I quit trying to make my own stuff because fighting with labels over production is shit, okay? I won't be put in that position again. If we do this, I'm making a rule: everyone writes, everyone sings. Period."
"If we do this," Lance says, "I'll sing lead on the National Anthem if you want me to. Fuck, I'll sing 'Gone' with all the 'baby girls,' I don't fucking care. I just want to do this."
"I know." JC knows. It's hard for Lance. JC wishes Lance didn't feel like he failed at everything, because the truth is, JC has always been a little jealous of Lance. Lance tries. He tries harder than any of them, and he puts himself out there and he comes out on the covers of national magazines and he says what he believes in. JC has never done any of that, and it's not like JC regrets who he is because he's pretty happy with the way things turned out, he just wishes Lance could see all that, is all.
"Look, C-it's not going to be how you're thinking. I know you don't want things to change and I get that, because fuck, if I had what you have, I wouldn't want it to change, either."
JC smiles a little. "You could've had it. You turned us both down, remember?"
"Every day, C. Especially when I'm fucking hot young models and not changing diapers. My point is, it's not gonna be crazy like it was and yeah, we'd have to work with Jive and probably Johnny, because Justin's still with him and he's the best, C, you know he is even if he's a backstabbing asshole. But there's no pressure, because we have all the cards and they have every incentive to make us happy."
"I'm already happy," JC says, but he thinks about Chris last night and the feel of him pressed against JC's back, pressed inside and all around, one leg thrown over JC's hip and arms wrapped around his chest, Chris's voice in his ear saying, "I fucking love you." Chris hasn't said it, not in words, but he wants this more than any of them.
JC has always been good at saying no to Chris before, but everything's different now. Maybe, JC thinks, everything has already changed.
*
They fly into DC four days before Christmas to visit JC's grandparents with two suitcases full of presents and two kids who insist that they all wear their bell necklaces because it's Christmas and "every time a bell chimes, a farmer grows a lime!" Emma declares.
"And you know we're going through a very serious lime shortage," Chris adds, buckling her into her seat. JC and Jamie are in the seats across the aisle from them, Jamie fiddling nervously with his new red and green candy cane-shaped barrettes. Jamie isn't a good flier. In fact, he tends to throw up on planes, and JC suspects that Chris chose his seat accordingly.
"Daddy, it's cold," Jamie says, and JC pulls out Jamie's backpack from under the seat, rummaging until he finds Jamie's Redskins hoodie and helping him into it. He pulls the hood up over Jamie's head and tightens the strings until just his face is showing, rests his hand on top of Jamie's head.
"Better?" JC asks. Jamie just nods, leaning heavily against JC's arm and hiding his face against the seat back. JC looks at him and thinks, if they do this reunion, what about the kids? Where do they fit into this if JC's not home to take care of them and make sure they're eating right? He doesn't want to move and he doesn't want to leave them with some nanny while he and Chris go off to record an album and try to relive their glory days. They always agreed that they would raise the kids themselves as best they could because they have the money and they have the luxury of only taking jobs they want, and never ones that mean leaving the kids with someone else.
But if they do this, if it's successful and they tour-what then? Jamie and Emma are starting school-real school, kindergarten, and it's only half days but it's still real school-and JC refuses to miss that, and he refuses to let other people raise their kids.
Their last night in DC, JC's mom finds him at the kitchen table well after everyone else has gone to bed, a piece of leftover pie in front of him and a mug of tea held loosely between his palms.
"You look like you're thinking deep thoughts," she says, and takes the seat across from him, picking up his fork and taking a large bite of pie.
"Not really," JC says, smiling a little. "Not deep. Just. I told them I'd think about it. The reunion thing. And that I'd give them an answer on New Year's day. And I still don't have one."
She points the fork at him. "Josh, your problem has always been that you think too much. Just do what feels right to you, and stop worrying about everyone else, all the pros and cons and what ifs. Sometimes, you just have to go for the things you want."
"How do I know if this is what I really want, though?" JC asks. "How do I know I'm not just doing it because it's what everyone else wants?"
"Honey, you've never done anything in your life just because everyone else wanted you to. You know what your heart says. You just have to learn to listen to it."
That's not the way JC would've said it because it's cheesy and hallmarky, but he knows what she means anyway, and he knows she's right. She's his mom and she's pretty much always been right. She was right about MMC and NSYNC; she was right about Chris and the kids, and she's probably right about this.
And maybe he does think too much, but he's not Chris or Lance, he can't just jump into something and deal with the consequences later. He's not that sort of person and he likes to know that things will work out before he does them, because when they don't, well. He doesn't think he can deal with that kind of disappointment again. He doesn't want to have to.
"What if it doesn't work out?" JC says. "What if it all goes up in flames again?"
"What if it turns out to be the best thing you've ever done?" she says. She puts down the fork and reaches across the table to brush his hair out of his eyes. "You'll never know if you never try."
*
The house in Winter Park is empty when the car drops them off. Heather takes care of the place for the most part, but she's up with the rest of JC's family in DC still, so they have the house to themselves. JC still loves this house, even if it did almost kill him during that hurricane all those years ago. It's beautiful and old and on the lake, and he really loves it. But it's not home.
The kids are exhausted after the day of traveling and JC gets them settled in their room for a nap before finding Chris in the sun room at the back of the house, watching the sun hang bright and clear in the late afternoon sky. He says, "I want you to want to do this, JC. I don't want you to do it because of me or Lance or anyone else. I want you to do it for you, because I think. I think it would be good for you. I think it would be amazing." He looks up at JC and grins. "And I promise I won't be mean this time. You know it was just sexual frustration. You were so damned pretty. It wasn't my fault I had to be an asshole."
JC grins and sinks to his knees by Chris's chair, rests his cheek on Chris's thigh and sighs a little when Chris's fingers slide into his hair. "So what's your excuse now?" he says.
"Now I'm just a bitter old man who could really use a blowjob after a long day."
"I don't know about the other stuff," JC says, reaching for Chris's zipper, "but the blowjob I can do."
They have to be fast because the kids could come down at any minute and Jamie has never been very good with napping, but JC is good at this and he knows exactly what Chris likes after four years together. He knows that if he sucks just at the head and flicks his tongue just so, Chris will tighten his fingers in JC's hair and thrust his hips up; he knows if he pulls off completely and licks all around the shaft, Chris will make that frustrated, half-groaning noise and say, "JC, come on, please." And he knows that the second JC takes him all the way in, relaxes his throat and swallows around him, Chris will say, "Fuck, fuck," and come.
Afterwards, JC climbs up onto the chair with Chris even though it's not really big enough for both of them so he ends up half in Chris's lap anyway. He says, "I'm still thinking about the other thing. I have. I have some concerns about, you know, the kids and how that will all work, but I'm still thinking about it."
"It won't be good if you don't want this as much as we do," Chris says, arms tightening around JC's waist. "I'm not going to be mad or whatever if you say no. Just don't be a pussy about this, C. Don't use the kids as an excuse not to do something just because you're scared."
JC tries to stand up, but Chris just tightens his arms more and he's a lot stronger than JC thinks, he won't let go. "You're such an asshole sometimes," JC says, sinking back down into the chair with a sigh.
"But I'm an honest asshole, and you know I'm right. So just think about it."
*
JC thinks about it. He thinks about it all through Christmas, when the kids are opening their presents and he's putting the training wheels on Emma's new bike and they're walking from door to door in Bev's neighborhood singing carols in the warm night air. He thinks about it while he's teaching Jamie the song he and Justin started in New York that he finally finishes three days after Christmas, and he thinks it might be one of the best things he's ever written. He doesn't want to give it away to anyone, not even Justin. It's a song for the group, and he can't seem to get around that.
He thinks about what his mom said, about listening to his heart. Jamie says, "This is even better than the one about computers," and hums the song all the time in his sweet, high voice until Chris says, "What's that you're singing, kid? It's really good" and starts singing along with him.
On New Year's Eve they let the kids stay up until midnight to watch the ball drop and they do their own little toast, pouring the kids sparkling apple cider into the ugly Jesus-themed Christmas mugs that Lance sent them last year as (JC hopes) a joke gift. They tuck the kids into bed but two hours later Emma wakes up screaming from a nightmare and it's up to JC to calm her down because Chris decided to meet up with Lance and Joey to party, but JC wanted to stay home because he had thinking to do. He still hasn't made up his mind about the group so he definitely has thinking to do, he thinks as he rubs Emma's back and carries her down to the kitchen.
"My mom always said that you can't tell a nightmare on an empty stomach or it might come true," JC says, setting her down on the kitchen island counter and giving her a gingerbread cookie shaped like a star. Emma sniffs loudly and rubs at her eyes before taking a small bite, telling JC all about the aliens that climbed in through the window and tried to eat her.
"Aliens can be scary," JC says, "but only if you don't know what they're about. Maybe they were scary in the dream because they looked different than you're used to, but that doesn't mean they're bad. Maybe just a little different."
"What if he wanted to eat me, though?" Emma says.
"I'm pretty sure aliens are vegetarians," JC explains. "He probably just wanted to say hello."
Emma seems okay with that explanation and she falls asleep almost as soon as JC puts her back in bed, but he's pretty sure he didn't really handle that very well. He should've said aliens don't exist, but he thinks about being four years old and how it seemed a lot more likely that aliens existed and were vegetarians than that they didn't exist at all. Still, he feels strung out and thin and pressured, and he hates this feeling, like nothing he does lately is right and everyone's against him. It's only just after one in Louisiana and JC calls Britney because she's the only person he can think of who won't think he's insane for telling his kid about vegetarian aliens.
"Oh, JC," Britney says when she's done laughing. "Thank you. No, seriously, thanks for that. You're so special sometimes."
JC leans back against the couch and sighs. "It gets easier, right? The whole kids thing? Because it feels really hard right now and I'm pretty sure I'm going to fuck everything up very soon."
"As someone who fucked everything up within, like, minutes of birthing my babies, I can say that you are doing fine. Besides, aliens could totally exist. Maybe they're just extinct or something. Like unicorns."
JC ignores that, because he's a nice guy and he doesn't want to shatter any illusions Britney might have about the past existence of unicorns. She's a nice person with a good heart and she tries really hard to be a good mom. If she wants to believe in unicorns, JC's not going to be the one to tell her differently. It does make him worry that twenty years from now, Emma might still think aliens are real. Fuck.
"So, did Lance tell you about the whole reunion thing? And how it's all up to me because I'm the only person who doesn't think getting the group back together for some pathetic last hurrah is a good idea?"
"Yeah, he did. And you know, good for you. You have a good life, JC. You never really seemed happy doing the whole popstar thing and you have to think about that. Make the decision that's right for you."
"Yeah," JC says. He rubs his fingers against the beaded seam on the arm of the couch. "I'm just not sure what that is right now."
"Maybe you don't wanna hear this, but I think we're a lot alike, and that's what I did, and I've never been happier. No fucking paparazzi following me around, no crazy rumors, no worrying about performances and what people would say if I wore the same thing twice or I went out without make up."
"I'd never go out without make up," JC says, smiling a little.
"Well, duh." She giggles. "Look, honey. No one can tell you what makes you happy. And don't you let fucking Justin pressure you into this, either, okay? He walked away from y'all, and you don't owe him anything. If you don't want to do it, they have to like, respect that and shit."
"I don't want to be the one responsible for this…not happening," JC says. "I wish it wasn't up to me."
"It's not fair," Britney says. "But I think maybe it's time for you to be a little selfish? Think about what it would mean. The whole reunion thing. Promotion. Interviews. All the awkward questions about the past however many years. Performing old songs and everyone saying the same old shit they always said about y'all that always made you so mad in the first place. Oh lord, imagine you going on The View now, okay? It's like your worst nightmare, JC."
"I don't think that show is even on anymore," JC says, because suddenly he's not sure what else he can say or how to answer her questions. He knows what he's supposed to say. That the idea of doing promo and answering questions about how he's gay now and are they all gay and about the kids and his private life that he doesn't really want to share. He's supposed to say that the idea of performing with the group again makes him cringe in embarrassment-a bunch of 30-something former teen idols trying to relive their glory days-that it's ludicrous to even try and that no one will take them seriously, again, and he'll be miserable about it, again.
But instead, he thinks about that day in Atlantis at the aquarium, the sound of their voices blending together around him, and how happy he was for that one blinding moment. It wasn't all bad, he thinks. It wasn't even mostly bad. It was pretty good, actually. The part where they made music together, the connection he felt singing with these four people who sometimes made him want to scream in frustration but mostly made him feel like he was doing something bigger than himself. The part where he loved them all even when they made him crazy-that part was more than good.
Britney says, "You're allowed to say 'no,' JC. They're not going to be mad, okay? Just remember that. You're allowed to say 'no' if it's not what you want. It took me a really fucking long time to learn that, and even longer to actually, like, figure out what I really wanted, but I'm pretty happy now and that's why. Don't let them guilt you into this, okay? You don't owe them. You can love them and they'll always be your friends or whatever, but that doesn't mean you owe them this."
JC says, "I guess I still really need to think about things," and finishes the conversation on automatic, because he really does need to think about this. He sits up and leans his elbows on his knees, staring at his phone without really seeing it, Britney's words echoing in his head. He could say no, he knows he could. And they wouldn't even be angry at him, not really. They'd understand, even if it would disappoint them. But he can say no, if he wants to.
If.
*
He's still thinking about it on the drive to the WEG compound for the second ever official group meeting of the band formerly known as NSYNC, and he still doesn't know what the fuck he's going to say until he walks into the lounge and sees all of them sitting there, waiting for him, Chris standing next to him, lacing his fingers with JC's and saying softly, so only JC can hear, "I'm here, whatever you decide."
JC says, "I have three rules. One: we're doing a full-length album, none of this greatest hits bullshit. And it'll be our songs done our way and Jive can fuck off if they don't like it. Two: if we tour, we have to be done by September first, because my kids aren't going to bus school and being socialized by boy banders, or they'll end up like Justin and no one wants that."
"Hey!" Justin says. "There's nothing wrong with-"
"And three," JC says, "and this is the most important thing: everyone writes, everyone sings."
"Period," Lance says, smiling. Joey stands up and yanks JC into a hard hug, Chris's hand still clasped in JC's, and when he lets go, they're all just standing there, grinning like idiots and JC thinks, this is the right decision. He feels it in his heart, just like his mom said, because she really is always right, and this is right, too. Britney was right, too, because he's not letting anyone talk him into doing something he doesn't want to do. He wants this, like she said-he figured out what he wants and it's this, it's them together again, and it's exactly the way it's meant to be.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" JC says. "Let's get started."