Completed Fic - Make-Up and Kiss - PopSlash
Make-Up and Kiss
a PopSlashy fic by SnarkyLlama
7,500 words
(friendship fic, implied TimberTrick on the side)
None of this is real, got it?
Summary: JC has some concerns about Lance's 29th birthday.
It's about half past their third round and a quarter till their fourth, and JC is ready. He looks over and Chris meets his gaze right away.
Chris has been very watchful tonight and has matched JC drink for drink, when usually he'd be racing ahead. Chris, JC thinks, knows something. He knows something, but he's mellow about it, and that gives JC hope.
He turns to Justin, but it's hard to look someone in the eye when you're slumped against them. So he sits up straight, takes a deep breath and begins.
"I suppose you're wondering why I called you here today."
"Wait," Justin says and leans forward to place his glass precisely on a coaster. "You called us here?"
"Yes, and I can--"
"Here," Justin says. "To my house. You do remember this is my--"
"Let's discuss the intricacies of real estate later," Chris says. "I think JC has something important to tell us. Don't you, C?"
"Yes, and I--"
"Oh," Justin says. His eyes grow wide and he says it again. "Oh. JC, man..." He snakes an arm around JC and pulls him back into the warmth of his side. "You know we love you no matter what, right?"
JC snuggles right in.
"I know, man. Me, too, you know?"
He looks over at Chris, and Chris tap-tap-taps his thumb against his beer bottle and nods.
"You guys are the best," JC says. "And that's why I had to talk to you 'cause... I think Lance is upset with me."
The room fills with expectant silence. Even the walls seem to wait... and wait, until...
"Wait," Chris says. "You called us here to tell us that?"
"Lance is upset with me! And his birthday is in like five days, and--"
Justin catches JC's wrist and checks his watch.
"Four days," he says.
"Fuck!"
JC jumps up and accidentally bumps the table, and Justin scurries to minimize the spillage. Chris laughs, but gets up and heads for the kitchen. He returns with a handful of paper towels, then steers JC's pacing towards a safer path.
"So," Chris says. "Lance is upset."
"With me," JC says. He's pretty certain Lance is okay with most of the rest of the world, more than okay, even. His pictures look good, anyway.
"Why is he--?"
"Bzzzt!" Chris imitates a buzzer. "Wrong question, J."
Justin throws a wadded-up towel at him.
"At least I phrased my answer in the form of a question, Alex."
"Guys," JC says. "Please. Lance is upset with me. Help me make it better, and then play your little games with each other."
Justin chokes on something. He coughs and Chris pats his back.
When Justin's breathing again, Chris asks, "How upset?"
JC's not sure. Lance has barely said two words to him this month. Sometimes, that's nothing. Lance is busy, other people are busy, a month passes--no big deal. But other times, Lance wields silence like a sharp, cutting comment. Yeah, like a comment... if a comment could like... expand and last a lifetime.
Oh, that's deep. JC should remember that. There's a koan in there somewhere and maybe a song, something like the opposite of "Until Yesterday" or--
"C!" Chris pokes him in the chest. "You've got four days."
Poke. Poke. P--
JC slaps Chris' hand away before he has a bruise to mark each day, and Chris grins like he's won a prize.
"Don't take all four just to answer the question," Chris tells him. "You want us to help, you have to--"
"I don't--I mean, I do. I do want your help, but I--It's Lance, you know..."
Justin nods sympathetically. "It's hard to--"
"Jesus!" Chris says. "The both of you--what planet are you from? Haven't you figured out the Bass-o-Meter yet?"
JC stares and Justin laughs.
"The Bass-o-Meter? Chris? What the fuck?"
"Kids these days." Chris shakes his head. "You've gotta explain everything to them." He finishes off his beer and hands Justin the bottle. "Get me another. I'm not going to do all the work here."
"Fucker," Justin says, but the speed at which he complies makes it obvious he doesn't really mind.
"Pop stars make the best waiters," Chris observes while Justin's gone.
"Um... about Lance..."
"Wait for it," Chris says, and then shouts. "Hey, Timberlake! Get one for C, too!--I'm only explaining this once."
Justin brings the beers, and Chris herds them both to the couch.
"Okay, okay. Sit down and take notes. There will be a quiz."
JC thinks this is more likely to take four days than his attempt at answering Chris, but he doesn't point that out. He doesn't need to have Chris upset with him, too.
"Okay," Chris says. "I'm Lance and--"
Justin snorts and Chris glares at him before assuming a blank and vaguely dopey expression.
"--and this is the base Bass reading."
"Base Bass," Justin says.
"Yes. This is DEFCON 5. This is Lance in a peaceful state."
This is ridiculous.
"Dude," Justin says. "I think--can I go get my camcorder?"
"The mysteries of the Bass-o-Meter may only be revealed by those who have figured it out on their own."
"Is that a 'no'?"
"Yes, it's a 'no'," JC says. "And can we hurry this along? Please?"
"When Lance is upset, the Bass-o-Meter rises."
Justin chuckles. "That's not the only thing that--"
"This is a serious discussion, class. We'll have no more of these innuendo-laced interruptions."
"Are you sure I can't get my camera?"
JC and Chris say together: "Justin, shut up."
"Fine, but next time? You're holding your meeting at your own damn house."
"Fine," Chris says. "Then next time? The weed will be better."
"Guys," JC says. "Four days, all right? Four--"
"DEFCON 4," Chris says and waves his hands until he has their attention. "The Bass-o-Meter is here." He taps his shoulder. "Something's bugging Lance, it goes to his shoulders first. They seem a little tight. Maybe he's hunched in a little or maybe--"
"He does the reverse," JC says, getting it. "You can tell. He puts a good face on things and his chest goes forward and his shoulders back."
Chris grins and breaks from his pose to pounce on JC and kiss him all sloppy and disgusting on his cheek.
"My baby--I'm so proud! You've taken your first step on the path to greater Bass understanding."
JC wrestles with him and wipes his wet cheek on Chris' shirt. Chris falls back so he's wedged between them. He kisses Justin's cheek, too, and Justin grins.
"Okay," Chris says. "You get it. It goes on from there. Tight shoulders, clenched jaw, flared nostrils--"
"But you don't get that one so much," Justin says. "He's too self-conscious about his nose."
"True," Chris says. "True, but that's your last warning before the serious shit. So you've got to be careful, because, man, you do not want to mess with the angry eyebrows."
Justin claps his hands like an excited three-year-old. "Angry eyebrows! Yes! Angry eyebrows are the best."
JC's made a huge tactical error. He should have gone to Joey instead. Sure, with Joey there was the risk that Lance would hear the whole conversation later, but at least Joey wasn't crazy.
But it's too late now. He's here for the night, so he might as well make the best of it.
"That's great," JC says. "But how--"
"How upset is he?" Chris asks. "On the Bass-o-Meter scale, roughly how upset with you do you think Lance is?"
"Oh. Um..." JC hasn't seen Lance much. It goes along with the whole Lance-not-talking-to-him thing, but he thinks... "Maybe lip level?"
"Hmm." Chris and Justin exchange looks.
"Yes," JC says. "His lips. He's kinda... holding his mouth funny? Like he's got a sore tooth or--"
"He's holding himself back from saying something," Justin says.
"He's not so much upset as... disappointed," Chris says.
"You can get all that from his lips?"
"Yeah," Chris says. "That--and my advanced years and understanding."
Justin ruffles Chris' hair. "Yeah, man, you're Cornelius, the oldest and the wisest elephant in--"
"An elephant," Chris says. "You're calling me an elephant. I'm way too delicate and small to--"
"I like elephants," Justin says.
Chris smiles. "I can be an elephant."
"But that doesn't help," JC says. "Upset or disappointed, it doesn't matter. If I don't know why, I don't know how to fix it."
"And you want to fix it," Justin says, "by his birthday?"
"I've got to. Start the year like you mean to end it, you know."
"Um... no?" Justin says.
But it's obvious. How can Justin not get it?
"Lance starts a new year," JC explains, "on his birthday."
"Duh," Justin says. "That's kinda the point of birthdays."
"Exactly!"
At least that's settled. JC congratulates himself and reaches for his beer.
"Um..."
Justin is frowning, and Chris is rubbing the back of Justin's neck. It reminds JC of the old days, of all the time spent hanging with his best guys. He smiles at them and takes a drink.
"Exactly what?" Justin asks.
"I think C's afraid that if Lance hates him on his birthday, then Lance will hate him forever."
JC nods. That's close enough.
"But Lance doesn't hate him."
"I know," Chris says. "But... JC's not entirely wrong."
"Hey!" JC says. He tries to laugh, but... It would have been nice to hear that he was just imagining things or that Lance was, in fact, extremely busy.
"Get him a good gift," Justin says like he's imparting great wisdom. "Lance is a sucker for a good gift."
"That's your advice for everything," Chris says.
Justin shrugs. "What can I say? I've never been wrong."
"Yeah, that's it," Chris says. "That's got to be it. Our little Timberpuddle is never wrong."
"Ass." Justin pushes him away, but he's grinning from ear-to-ear. He looks over at JC and strikes a pose. "What can I do? I was born this fabulous."
"Baby," Chris says, "no one's born that fabulous."
"No?"
"No, you've got to be dropped on your head first."
Justin shoves Chris and pins him down, but he's pinning him to JC's lap.
"Guys! Hey, come on, stop it."
Chris squirms and shouts, and JC can't believe he came to them for advice. What was he thinking?
"Wanna give up?" Justin says. "Wanna take it back?"
Chris shakes his head. "No! You'll never make me!"
"Wanna bet?"
JC is relieved when their tussling moves to the floor. Certain parts of him had found the all the wriggling interesting, and Chris will never grow past the stage where other people's erections amuse him.
He tucks his legs up out of the wrestlers' way and watches them. They're as carefree as puppies, and maybe JC understands. Maybe he thought they could help because they've had their share of strained, silent months in the past, but they're obviously okay now--better than okay, even.
JC wants that. Well... not the deranged-puppy part, but the rest. He wants to be better-than-okay with Lance again. They used to have so much fun together. And now that he thinks about it, things have been a little off between them for... maybe five... six months? But Lance was still talking to him until about a month ago...
Maybe Justin is right. Maybe JC just needs to find the perfect gift, something that says: I'm sorry about whatever it was, please forgive me 'cause I love you, man and, hey, look at the neat things I buy you!
But you're not supposed to do that, are you? God knows, JC's heard Don't you apologize to me, till you know what you're apologizing for! enough. But maybe that's a girl thing? Only girls have ever accused him of it--and really, it makes no sense. It's a head/heart thing and apologies are totally about feelings, man, not understanding.
Yeah. So that's a girl thing, and Lance? Lance is not a girl. But... he'd still like to know what was wrong. How else can he keep it from happening again?
The floorshow's calmed down some, so JC thinks it's safe to intervene. He unfolds his legs and prods Justin's backside with his toes.
"Hey, do you guys even know what you're fighting about?"
"Nope!" Chris sings out, while Justin says, "He dissed my momma!"
"What? No, I didn't!"
"You said she dropped me on my head!"
"No, I--"
"My momma's the best, she'd never--"
"Hey!" JC and Chris say. JC lets Chris continue. "I didn't say that. I didn't say who dropped you, baby. It was probably the delivery-room nurse--isn't that right, C?"
"Yeah."
"Oh," Justin says. "Okay."
He smiles. All is right with Justin's world again, and JC can't help but think of fifteen years ago, because Justin's so cute and oblivious to the fact that Chris has still insulted him.
"Oof," Chris says, going limp and still. "I'm not one to complain, but--"
JC and Justin laugh.
"Fuckers. See if I help you when you're my age and some big, muscle-bound superstar pins you to the cold, hard floor and--"
"Oh, no," Justin says. "Don't even--no. Do you know how much I paid for this floor? This is primo, Grade A, superstar diva carpeting and you know it. It's more comfortable than your bed."
"Well, my primo, 'Grade A' ass says--"
Justin shoves the coffee table aside and rolls off of Chris.
"--oh, that's better."
"Hmmph."
"Hey, kiddo." Chris pokes Justin. "My superstar diva gut makes a great pillow--way better than your floor."
"Yeah?"
"You know it."
"Okay, then."
JC watches them sprawl out together and thinks maybe it's time for them to all find their beds. They are getting old and this pop life's all about early bedtimes these days... if two AM counts as early?
"What are you going to get him?" Justin says.
It takes JC a moment to realize he's talking to him.
"Sorry. What?"
"Lance's birthday. Let's figure out what you're going to give him."
"Maybe that's private," Chris says.
"No, don't be that way, C. Okay? This is like really important and you should consult the gift expert. I mean, this gift is like... your future with Lance, right?"
"Well..." JC wouldn't go quite that far.
"Come on, C. Please?"
"Man, you're dealing with a frustrated personal shopper here. We'll get nothing but whining till you agree."
"It's not whining if it's important!"
"Okay," JC says.
"Great!" Justin claps his hands and then rubs them together. "Now, down to business. What are you considering?"
"Um..." JC hasn't actually thought that far ahead. "What are you getting him?"
"Kisses," Justin says.
"Kisses."
"Oh, yeah," Chris says. "It's going to be awesome."
"Hershey's Kisses?"
"No," Justin says. "This is way better."
"You're not... hiring him a bunch of hookers, are you? That's totally--"
"Oh, please, anyone can hire hookers. Justin Timberlake is not just anyone."
"Justin Timberlake," Chris says, "talks about himself in the third person."
"Justin Timberlake can kick your ass," Justin says, and JC knows it's time to interrupt. One wrestling match per night is enough.
"So, not hookers?"
"Nope. There's this company that you can send lip prints to and they turn them into... uh... lithographs?" Justin looks to Chris. "Is it lithographs?"
"It's all art to me, man."
"And they turn them into art. It's pretty cool. So, I had my people talk to some other people and, voilà, I've got lip prints from Bette Midler and Reba McEntire."
Okay, that was weird, but also a little awesome.
"And then, hey, since I was working with Madonna, it was easy to ask her for--"
"You're giving Lance a lip print from Madonna?"
Was it terribly petty of him to be insanely jealous now?
"Yeah," Chris says. "Isn't that fuckin' awesome?"
Justin grins.
"But, but..." But it wasn't fair! JC was the huge Madonna fan! "But Lance is gay!"
"Duh."
"What's that got to do with it?" Chris asks.
"Isn't that weird? Giving a gay man lip prints from a bunch of women?"
Justin sits up. "That's not cool, man. Being gay doesn't make Lance any less able to appreciate good music."
"I don't know," Chris says. "I'm pretty sure being gay--and Southern--is the only reason why he thinks Bette and Reba are good music."
"Shut up," Justin says. "Country music is perfectly respect--"
"Uh, oh!" Chris announces. "The Timber-Meter has just reached DEFCON 3."
"Oh, fuck off, and tell C the rest of it."
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. The lip-print people are totally gay-approved. J read about them in the Advocate and--"
"You read the Advocate?"
Justin nods. "I was in a boy band, C. I never know when I might see one of my friends in there, you know? And their ads are always for the coolest shit."
Oh. Huh. That was just really surprising, but reasonable when explained like that.
"Anyway," Chris says, "a portion of the lip-print proceeds goes to AIDS charities in developing countries. So, if Lance isn't impressed with lip prints from three super divas--"
"Then he's crazy," Justin says.
"Then he's crazy," Chris says, "and sure to love the fact that his gift just bought three thousand condoms for people in India."
"And if three thousand condoms aren't impressive enough, there's Chris' gift."
"And my gift is ten times as awesome."
"Not ten times."
"No, it totally is."
"Uh... guys?" JC says.
"I bought five lip-print kits," Chris says. "And we're all going to do it at Lance's party."
"We are?"
"Yeah."
"Isn't that cool?" Justin says.
"I don't know, man... lip prints? Are you really into that? It doesn't sound very... sanitary."
Justin nods. "Oh, I know. That's what I thought at first, too. But it's all very hygienic. Each kit comes with its own little tube of lipstick, so there's no germ swapping and shit. And the print cards are--"
"Kiss sheets," Chris says. "They call 'em 'kiss sheets.'"
"And the kiss sheets are individually wrapped, and once you've got your perfect print, it's sealed to prevent smudging. And that means it's not like... festering while you're sitting around waiting to mail it off. It's really well thought out, the whole process."
"And think about it," Chris says. "That's a total of eight thousand condoms, plus all the *NSYNC boys wandering around Lance's party wearing lipstick. Lance will fuckin' love it!"
"And we're working on setting up a charity auction. Our lip prints to the highest bidder--"
No, that was scary. There are people out there who shouldn't be allowed that close to their lips, not even symbolically.
"--and the proceeds to the charity of Lance's choice."
"Wow," JC says. "You guys... You've really planned this all out together."
"Yeah," Chris says. "And it's perfect, because my boy here's going to be the highest bidder."
Oh, good. It wouldn't be too bad if Justin bought his lips.
"Through a proxy," Justin says. "I don't wanna see the headlines--"
"Justin Timberlake Covets the Fine Kirkpatrick Lips!"
"Nah," Justin says. "It's not your lips."
Chris grins. "Ooo, hear that, C? Justin must be coveting the fine Fatone lips."
"That's okay. Kelly can kick his ass, and she wears really pointy shoes."
"You know what I meant," Justin tells Chris.
"Yeah," Chris says. "I do."
Justin's got people to see in the morning, so he excuses himself soon afterwards. Chris drags himself up off the floor, and JC offers to fetch him another beer.
"No, man. I'm going to take a leak, and then I think we better switch to water."
JC agrees. He's got to go himself, so he heads towards the bathroom near the kitchen while Chris goes upstairs.
He brings back a couple of bottles of water and thinks about gifts while he waits for Chris. He loses track of time because he can't think of anything that isn't either lame or better suited to one of the other guys.
When Chris returns, JC tells him, "I've got nothing, man. There's no way I can top your gifts."
Chris flops down on the opposite end of the couch.
"C, you don't have to top our thing. Forget what Justin said, okay? He's got a heart of gold, but he puts a little too much faith in the bling."
JC nods.
"All you need is something small and thoughtful."
"I--"
"And not thoughtful like 'I've been plotting this for months' because that really isn't your forte. Leave that for Lance and me, all right?"
"I'm not a secret mastermind. Yeah, I got it."
"Do thoughtful like... like you work for Hallmark. Something like... uh... 'The distance between us, I hate it...'"
"'So, your birthday cake, I ate it'?"
Chris laughs. "Yeah, he'd eat that shit up. Go all One Fish, Two Fish on him, man."
"And Hop on Pop?"
"Yeah, do that. 'Cause you're a lyrical genius, but you're no match for the Doctor."
"Not yet," JC says. "I'm saving that for my next album, The Green Eggs and Ham Ultimate Party Remix."
For a minute, JC actually considers it. He can totally see the Status Quo guys dancing to it. A little Marky Mark, a little Sam I Am...
"If you do that," Chris says, sounding half asleep, "I want in on it."
Just the thought of a collaboration with him makes JC feel all warm and fuzzy. JC wants to hug him, but Chris is already asleep. JC shrugs and wonders how comfortable Justin's floor really is.
#
JC is made of fail.
It's the fourth, and he doesn't have a damn thing for Lance. He's an indecisive idiot and he's promised Justin and Chris that he'll arrive early so they can all do the lip thing together, just the five of them, before the party. But JC's damned if he's going to go empty-handed.
He's vetoed every sort of gift he could think of. He thinks he'd really like to give Lance a trip... like the two of them going to New Zealand or something, but it's too fraught with complications.
If he gives Lance two tickets, he might want to go with a boyfriend. If he gives Lance one ticket and keeps the other for himself, it's going to hurt like hell if Lance refuses to go with him. Four tickets, and it's like a double date, but JC's single. He doesn't want to take just anyone along with them--and he certainly doesn't want to watch Lance with another guy when it should be Lance-and-JC time.
Five tickets would be perfect, and he spends half the day really hating *NSYNC because he can't spend the rest of his life in a perfect group of five. The real world doesn't accommodate groups of five well, and everything sucks.
And now it's past the time he agreed to be there and he's got nothing. And, fuck it, maybe that's a sign. Maybe he shouldn't go.
Forty minutes later, his phone rings.
He checks the ID, and, of course, it's Chris. He doesn't have to answer, but even JC knows that that would be taking being a stupid idiot a step too far. He answers.
"You better be dead in a ditch somewhere, you freak."
JC blinks. Somehow, that's better than he expected.
"The dead are answering phones now?"
"Fine," Chris says. "You better be mostly dead in a ditch somewhere. You're at fucking DEFCON 1, man, and a breath away from angry eyebrows and total world annihilation."
"Lance is that upset?"
"Lance? I'm talking about Justin. Justin's going to go postal on your ass 'cause you're messing with The Lip Plan. Lance just looks hurt. The Bass-o-Meter doesn't even begin to cover it, but he's Lance. He'll put on his game face when everyone else gets here."
Lance shouldn't have to fake it on his birthday. JC is so totally made of fail.
In the background, JC hears: "Is that C? Gimme the phone, gimme the phone."
"Do I need to give my--do I need to give Justin the phone?" Chris asks.
"No, that's okay, I--"
The doorbell rings.
"There's someone at the door."
"Good," Chris says.
"What? Chris? Are you at the door?"
"No."
The doorbell rings again and again.
"Wow, there's someone really impatient at the door."
"Well, maybe you better go answer it. That's--"
"I'm going, I'm going."
"--kinda the point of doorbells."
JC checks and it's Joey at the door, which shouldn't surprise him 'cause who else would it be? But he's still surprised.
"It's Joey," he tells Chris as he hurriedly presses buttons on the security panel.
"I know," Chris says. "Open the door already."
"I am, I--"
And Joey walks in, takes the phone, says "Thanks, Chris," and snaps it shut. He shoves the phone in his pocket and glares at JC.
"Joey," JC says, feeling miserable and small.
"I am so fucking mad at you right now, C, I can't even talk about it."
JC nods.
"And if you show up with a black eye, that's going to look really fucking bad."
JC nods again.
"And I'm not talking about your face 'cause I don't care if you're fucking butt-ugly for the next three weeks--hell, it would probably do you some good. But there's no way in hell that I'm going to let Lance know that you had to be fucking knocked out before you pulled your head out of your ass enough to fucking show at his goddamn birthday--"
Joey pauses and takes a deep breath.
JC says, "But I--"
"--But Chris swore that you're not being an asshole, that you're just panicking and we have to keep you from hating yourself in the morning. And Justin said some freaky shit about destiny and... uh... 'the physical manifestation of your love in a box'?--which, seriously, I don't even want to understand 'cause it sounds as freaky as hell, but you better start explaining anyway."
"I don't have a present for Lance."
"Jesus, C. Is that it? That's your excuse?" Joey shakes his head. "That's just... pretty fucking lame. You know Lance doesn't give a shit about that. He doesn't need a present."
"But I needed to get him one," JC says. "Joey, please, he's been upset with me. I made him angry and I--"
"Angry? Lance isn't--"
"He's been upset with me for weeks, Joey, and I needed something... something perfect to say 'please forgive me, even though I don't know shit 'cause I really miss us being friends.'"
"God." Joey tugs JC forward and wraps an arm around him. "You kill me. Lance isn't angry at you. He's just been a little... down--a little blue--so the last thing he needs is to be ditched by a buddy on his big day. How can you be such a moron?"
"I was dropped on my head?" JC mumbles into Joey's shoulder.
"Nah, that's Justin--and I can't believe you went to him for advice. What were you thinking?" Joey squeezes him, then moves back and gives JC a stern look. "Next time, when you have a Lance problem and not enough balls to go straight to the source? Come to me. Okay? None of this stupid shit. Consult the Lance expert, because this is it. I won't forgive you again."
JC nods.
"Now I'm going to save your ass, and then you're going to put on something pretty, and we're going to go to a party because Lance Bass only turns twenty nine once. Got it?"
"Yeah... and if you save my ass, it's totally yours, man."
"Eh, I don't want anything that scrawny."
JC sniffs and smiles at him.
"Okay," Joey says. "Now... did you get Lance's book?"
"Yeah, I--"
"No commentary needed. Just, do you have it and can you find it quickly?"
"Yes."
"Great. Do you have any wrapping paper?"
"No, I... usually get things wrapped, but... you're not--you want me to give Lance a copy of his own book?"
"Don't question my genius. I'm going to get wrapping paper, you go get the book and if you have... a bookmark or some Post-it notes or a note card or something, get that, too."
"Um... okay."
It sounds weird, but Joey really does know Lance best. So JC gets the stuff, and when he returns, Joey's waiting for him with a roll of aluminum foil.
"Oh, Joey, no. We can't--we can go get some real paper."
"Are you kidding? This is great. You can make Chris a tin hat with it after." Joey takes the book from him and flips through it. "Looks like maybe you have read this. That's cool."
"Not all of it. Lou and us--I couldn't. But the stuff about his childhood and space and coming out, I read that."
"Okay." Joey hands it back to him. "Find the picture in there from Challenge. You know the one?"
JC knows it. "The one from 2003."
"That's it. Now take one of your little pink Post-its there and write something like--"
"No," JC says. "I think I've got it. I know what to--I just need a pen..."
Joey hands him one.
The note's not that big, so in tiny letters, JC writes: This isn't the last photo. There's 5 of us tonight and plenty of cameras. So, Happy Birthday, man! ♥ C.
He sticks it over the Challenge photo. But it's not quite... He grabs another note.
Please forgive me, even though I don't know shit 'cause I really miss us being friends.
He sticks that on the page, too, and closes the book.
"No bookmark?" Joey says.
"No."
"Then dog-ear the page or something. You want it to fall open to that page."
JC hates dog-eared pages. He opens the book again, finds the picture, and leaves his pen wedged between the pages. He closes it and gives it to Joey.
"Great," Joey says. "This will look pretty ghetto, but don't worry about it. It's perfect. Now go get pretty, and I'll--"
"But this is what I was planning to wear."
"Really?" Joey eyes him critically.
"Yeah."
"Well, it's your lucky day, then. Two interventions for the price of one, all right? 'Cause you rock the 'I stole this shit from my grandpa' look like--"
"Hey, that's--"
"--like no one else, but no. I've heard we're all wearing lipstick tonight and there's no way I'm going to let you wear that. Grandpas and make-up do not mix."
"But--"
"I saved your ass, I own it, and I can tell your ass what to wear."
"Geez, some people--"
Joey glares.
"I'll change," JC says.
"ASAP, man."
"Yeah, yeah. I got it."
#
When they arrive, Joey stops JC from exiting the car. "Look, C, I'm only going to say this once, all right? And then we'll forget all about it."
JC thinks there's going to be some yelling after all, but he can take it. He deserves it. So, he pats Joey's hand and tells him, "It's all right, man. It's okay."
"It's a fucking miracle that Justin's here, and we all know it--"
Wait, this was about Justin?
"--just like we all know damn well that the miracle's name is Chris Kirkpatrick, even if we're not supposed to say it."
"Uh? What?"
"Justin and Chris," Joey says and nods like that's an answer. "And that's all cool, man. His being here really means something, because--just between us--I know Lance never expected it to happen."
"That really sucks."
"I know. But, hey, he's here and maybe things will change and it's great. But. All that would've meant shit to Lance if you weren't here tonight."
"No, that's--"
"Hey," Joey says. "You interrupt a lot for someone whose ass is owned. Stop it before I have to go all medieval on you."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Fatone, sir."
Joey laughs and cuffs him on the ear. "You're a mouthy little punk, but the rest of us need you. You're... uh... you're like our balance, man. You're as tight with Chris and Justin as you are with Lance and me. And we need that. You're... the only one who doesn't have a favorite."
JC doesn't see how anyone could pick a favorite out of the four of them, they're all just the absolute best. They have so much in common and yet they're all so wonderfully themselves. JC knows he could never do it.
"So," Joey says. "We can go in now 'cause you're never going to pull this shit again, right?"
"I'm won't," JC promises, hugging him. "Thanks, man, you're my hero."
Joey pushes him out of the car. "Enough of this mushy shit, we've got a party."
#
The party's already underway when they get there, but Joey guides JC past the front rooms, insisting that the guys will still be doing their private gift-exchange.
When they enter Lance's study, Joey shouts, "Hey, honey, I'm home!"
While Justin and Chris laugh, JC sees surprise race across Lance's face. It's followed by a small smile that makes Lance's eyes seem even bigger than usual. JC returns the smile, then ducks his head because, yeah, he knows he's an idiot.
Joey drags him forward. "And look who I found in the middle of a fashion emergency."
There's more laughter, though JC's pretty sure he heard Chris snort at that. Chris doesn't appreciate high fashion half as much as he should.
"Seriously," Joey says, "you should have seen what he was wearing. It would have blinded you."
Lance chuckles. "That's one way to make my birthday unforgettable. 'May 4, 2008, the day the former members of *NSYNC were all inexplicably struck blind.' Thanks, Joe, but I think I'll pass on that one."
Chris and Justin hoot at that.
"Permanent disability," Chris says.
"The gift that keeps on giving!" Justin says.
"Wow," Lance says. "Keep polishing your routine, guys. I think you're just about ready to hit the Hoboken comedy circuit."
"Oh, no," Justin says. "We're holding out for the big time."
"Yes," Chris says, bouncing up to stand on his chair. "Lansing, Michigan, here we come!"
JC sees that Lance has opened some of his gifts already. He goes over to examine the three large, framed prints and Lance joins him.
"Trying to figure out which one is Madonna's?"
"Yeah, man, you know me." JC feels like a huge dork, but Lance nods and gives him another of those little smiles, and he feels better.
"Oh!" JC says then, realizing his mistake. "I haven't--" He hugs him, but it's awkward because he's still holding Lance's gift. "Happy Birthday, you know?"
"What have you got there?" Lance asks. "A TV dinner?"
"It's uh... your present. Have you opened everyone else's? Did I miss everything?"
Lance takes the gift from him and thumps it thoughtfully. "No, I haven't opened Chris' yet, but... Foil, C? That's--"
"Well, I... uh... heard there was a condom theme to this year's gifts."
"Condom theme? Oh, yeah. Justin did say something about three thousand condoms. I'm not sure how he does it, you know? Doing something that cool that's still..."
"That crazy?"
"Yeah." Lance thumps the package again. "Can I open this now?"
"Um..." JC glances at the others. They're all busy fooling around, but Joey and Chris still manage to seem like vigilantly hovering sheepdogs. "I think you'd better open Chris' next."
"Okay."
Lance is delighted with the lip-print kits. It's an awesome gift, but JC thinks Lance gets more pleasure from watching the Chris-and-Justin Show as they explain it to him. Before Justin can finish talking about the charity auction, Chris gets into the lipstick and starts telling everyone to pucker up.
"Come on," Chris tells Joey. "Plant one on me."
When Joey refuses, Chris pouts.
"Come on, you know what they say. 'Practice makes perfect lip prints.'"
Justin pulls him away from Joey. "Cool it, man. We'll find someone else to practice with you."
"It's a lost cause," Lance tells him. "If Chris hasn't figured out kissing by now, no amount of practice is going to help."
"Hey!" Chris says. "Your birthday doesn't automatically make it Pick On Chris Day."
"It's okay," Justin says. "I'll practice with you."
Justin plants one on Chris--right on Chris' lips. And Chris laughs and kisses him back, like for real. JC blinks and stares. It might be a joke, but... they look... they look so practiced at it. Lance and Joey laugh, then Joey elbows JC and he stops staring.
"Wow," JC says. "Umm..."
Lance is looking at him strangely. JC blinks again.
"Is there something going on there?" JC asks.
"'Is there...' Oh, shit," Joey says and laughs so hard he's clutching his belly. "Oh, oh, fuck. C, you're priceless."
JC looks at Lance. "I've missed something."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that," Lance says. He taps the table, then picks up JC's gift.
"What's that?" Justin says. "Who brought leftovers?"
"It's the world's largest condom wrapper," Lance tells him.
"Dude, that's... that's--no. I don't want to meet that dick."
Chris and Joey will probably have muscle cramps tomorrow from laughing so much.
Lance looks at JC and raises a brow.
"Yeah," JC says. "Go ahead and open it."
Lance carefully unfolds the foil. He stops as soon as the book's cover is visible. He glances up at JC, then looks down and touches his face on the cover.
"What's that?" Chris asks.
Justin leans forward for a better look. "You're giving Lance a copy of his own book?"
"Justin, shut up," Joey and Chris say.
"But--"
"Shh!"
Lance peels off the rest of the foil and immediately opens the book to where the pen is. JC holds his breath while Lance reads the notes.
Lance bites his lip, glances around and then reads the notes again. JC is going to faint if he doesn't breathe soon.
Lance pulls the pen out and snaps the book shut. He puts the pen on the table, but keeps hold of the book like he doesn't want anyone else to see it.
"Guys... uh... JC and I need to talk--"
Oh god, JC thinks.
"--so... uh... you all need to go out there and start partying without us. And uh... don't scare the rest of my friends away."
"You got it," Joey says and pushes Justin towards the door.
"Woo!" Chris says as they leave. "Now the party can begin!"
Lance rakes a hand through his hair.
"It's true," JC says. "I am sorry, even though I don't--"
"There isn't... There isn't really anything for you to apologize for." Lance laughs, but it's an uncomfortable sound that feels out of place here. "I... uh... You really have no idea, do you?"
"No." JC shakes his head. "I don't. Things were just suddenly all wrong."
Lance's lips twist like he's considering his words.
"About a month ago," JC adds. "A little more than a month ago."
"Yeah," Lance says. "And what was happening about a month ago?"
"Um... Dance Crew and stuff?"
"Anything else?"
"No, not really... Well, there was the whole kerfuffle about Chace, but yeah, whatever."
Lance rubs one of his eyebrows and JC stares at it, helplessly fascinated now that he knows about the Bass-o-Meter.
"Yeah," Lance says. "That Chace stuff..."
Oh, JC thinks. He hadn't thought of that.
"Chris said you were disappointed... I didn't know. You were interested in Chace? But--"
"Chace? Oh, Jesus. JC--"
"But he's so not your type, man. Even if he were gay. He's... well, he's nice, but you deserve--You can do so much better."
"JC, I'm not interested in Chace. I never have been and I never will be, okay?"
"Yeah? That's great 'cause really--"
Lance presses a finger to JC's lips. "Let me do the talking, okay? It'll go faster."
JC nods.
"I've been protecting you," Lance says. "You were so disgusted with everyone and so emphatic about being straight--"
"But--"
"Hush. And then Joey did his 'Lance is the only gay one' thing, and that was so entirely unconvincing. And... so... I was protecting you."
"Protecting me from what?"
"From more gay rumors! You didn't need to be seen with me right then."
"I don't--I don't ever need to be protected from you."
"You were so disgusted--"
"They were totally making shit up! Saying I was places I wasn't. And Chace? Geez. So not gay and so not established enough to weather the rumors."
"I kept waiting for you," Lance says.
"Waiting for me?"
"I thought... I thought, 'I know JC and he's going to laugh this off and say it's not important, that I don't need to protect him.'"
"I don't. I--"
"But you never did. You never said anything, so I thought I was wrong, that your reputation was more important than me."
"Jesus, Lance, never. Never. You know that."
"Not as much as I thought, I guess. Maybe I'm still learning this whole out thing. But you didn't--"
"Fuck. I love you, man. You're one of the best people ever. And... and... don't you--Don't you ever value yourself less than my reputation."
Lance makes a small sound and JC's so close, he can feel Lance shaking. He wraps himself around Lance and holds him tightly.
"I didn't get it," JC tells him. "I'm sorry. I thought you were angry with me and I didn't know what to do. You're one of my best guys, you know? You're so solid and genuine and, Jesus, so much more important than my straight reputation 'cause... Come on, man, we all know that's been like whisper-thin for years."
Lance chuckles and JC feels it as little puffs of breath on his neck.
"You are pretty flaming," Lance says.
"I can't help it. I like what I like." JC rubs Lance's back. "Are we okay?"
"I think so."
"Was my gift okay?"
"Well..."
"Aw, man, there goes that theory. It's not just the thought that counts."
"No," Lance says. "It was great, but... your reputation for cheapness will never be in danger."
"I wanted to give you a trip to New Zealand."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," JC says. "'Cause like... kiwis, man. Wouldn't that be cool?"
"Kiwis." Lance laughs. "I suppose you're going to tell me that kiwis are neato."
"They totally are." JC grins. "Would you... be interested in that?"
"Going to New Zealand with you?"
It thrills JC that Lance automatically assumes that they'd be going together.
"Yeah," JC says.
"Yes."
"Oh, cool."
That's just so awesome. Maybe Chris and Justin bought better gifts, but JC's is going to be a lot more fun in the long run.
"So..." Lance says. "If we're good, we should probably go to my party."
"No," JC says. "Let's do the lip prints first, okay? Justin will hound us otherwise."
"I don't know..." Lance opens a kit and starts taking everything out a piece at a time. "I think Chris might keep him busy."
"God, yeah. I just... didn't see that one coming... like not at all."
"I know," Lance says. "It's kinda cute."
"Yeah." JC picks up a packet of kiss sheets and looks at the directions. "They are kinda cute together... like puppies."
Lance laughs. "No, I meant you."
"What?"
"Nothing," Lance says. He smiles one of his huge, genuine grins and JC feels like he's won a prize.
"Here," Lance says. "Which lipstick do you want?"
JC takes the red one and paints his lips. "Hey," he says.
"What?"
"Aren't we doing this backwards?"
"Hmm?"
JC points to his lips. "Make-up," he says and picks up a kiss sheet. "And kiss. It's backwards."
Lance blinks, and then he gets it. "Oh, kiss and make up?"
"Okay," JC says, "if you insist."
JC plants one on him.
#
On the fifth, the gossip blogs are filled with photos of Lance's party and rumors of an *NSYNC reunion. Nearly every blog also points out--for the color-blind and the totally clueless--that the kiss print distinctly visible on Lance Bass' cheek is the same shade as JC Chasez's lipstick.
Once again, gay rumors are the only thing interviewers want to ask JC about. JC tells them, "Sorry, I'm still not gay." And when they ask about the photos and his relationship with Lance, he laughs with delight. "Thanks," he says, "that's very flattering. But even if I were gay, I'm not nearly hot enough to catch Lance Bass."
# # #
May 12, 2008
Chasez Trades Chace for Space?
Gay poster boy and former boy-bander Lance Bass forgot to go space, and now his fellow boy-banger JC Chasez has forgotten he's straight.
Barely a month after denying his relationship with Gossip Girl Chace Crawford, JC has flown off with his space man for an intimate vacation. We'd say it was a honeymoon, but they were acting more like an old married couple when our sources caught up with them at LAX. [You can watch a clip of them together under the cut.]
Sorry, Chace. Better luck next time!
Notes:
+Thank yous to: phaballa for the fic prompt, kira_j for the feedback and encouragement, and nopseud for insisting that I get it right. :) You guys are the best!
+Kiss Portraits are real. The company is DNA 11.
+If you don't know the YouTube movies that I stole "angry eyebrows" from, you're really missing out. Check them out!
a PopSlashy fic by SnarkyLlama
7,500 words
(friendship fic, implied TimberTrick on the side)
None of this is real, got it?
Summary: JC has some concerns about Lance's 29th birthday.
It's about half past their third round and a quarter till their fourth, and JC is ready. He looks over and Chris meets his gaze right away.
Chris has been very watchful tonight and has matched JC drink for drink, when usually he'd be racing ahead. Chris, JC thinks, knows something. He knows something, but he's mellow about it, and that gives JC hope.
He turns to Justin, but it's hard to look someone in the eye when you're slumped against them. So he sits up straight, takes a deep breath and begins.
"I suppose you're wondering why I called you here today."
"Wait," Justin says and leans forward to place his glass precisely on a coaster. "You called us here?"
"Yes, and I can--"
"Here," Justin says. "To my house. You do remember this is my--"
"Let's discuss the intricacies of real estate later," Chris says. "I think JC has something important to tell us. Don't you, C?"
"Yes, and I--"
"Oh," Justin says. His eyes grow wide and he says it again. "Oh. JC, man..." He snakes an arm around JC and pulls him back into the warmth of his side. "You know we love you no matter what, right?"
JC snuggles right in.
"I know, man. Me, too, you know?"
He looks over at Chris, and Chris tap-tap-taps his thumb against his beer bottle and nods.
"You guys are the best," JC says. "And that's why I had to talk to you 'cause... I think Lance is upset with me."
The room fills with expectant silence. Even the walls seem to wait... and wait, until...
"Wait," Chris says. "You called us here to tell us that?"
"Lance is upset with me! And his birthday is in like five days, and--"
Justin catches JC's wrist and checks his watch.
"Four days," he says.
"Fuck!"
JC jumps up and accidentally bumps the table, and Justin scurries to minimize the spillage. Chris laughs, but gets up and heads for the kitchen. He returns with a handful of paper towels, then steers JC's pacing towards a safer path.
"So," Chris says. "Lance is upset."
"With me," JC says. He's pretty certain Lance is okay with most of the rest of the world, more than okay, even. His pictures look good, anyway.
"Why is he--?"
"Bzzzt!" Chris imitates a buzzer. "Wrong question, J."
Justin throws a wadded-up towel at him.
"At least I phrased my answer in the form of a question, Alex."
"Guys," JC says. "Please. Lance is upset with me. Help me make it better, and then play your little games with each other."
Justin chokes on something. He coughs and Chris pats his back.
When Justin's breathing again, Chris asks, "How upset?"
JC's not sure. Lance has barely said two words to him this month. Sometimes, that's nothing. Lance is busy, other people are busy, a month passes--no big deal. But other times, Lance wields silence like a sharp, cutting comment. Yeah, like a comment... if a comment could like... expand and last a lifetime.
Oh, that's deep. JC should remember that. There's a koan in there somewhere and maybe a song, something like the opposite of "Until Yesterday" or--
"C!" Chris pokes him in the chest. "You've got four days."
Poke. Poke. P--
JC slaps Chris' hand away before he has a bruise to mark each day, and Chris grins like he's won a prize.
"Don't take all four just to answer the question," Chris tells him. "You want us to help, you have to--"
"I don't--I mean, I do. I do want your help, but I--It's Lance, you know..."
Justin nods sympathetically. "It's hard to--"
"Jesus!" Chris says. "The both of you--what planet are you from? Haven't you figured out the Bass-o-Meter yet?"
JC stares and Justin laughs.
"The Bass-o-Meter? Chris? What the fuck?"
"Kids these days." Chris shakes his head. "You've gotta explain everything to them." He finishes off his beer and hands Justin the bottle. "Get me another. I'm not going to do all the work here."
"Fucker," Justin says, but the speed at which he complies makes it obvious he doesn't really mind.
"Pop stars make the best waiters," Chris observes while Justin's gone.
"Um... about Lance..."
"Wait for it," Chris says, and then shouts. "Hey, Timberlake! Get one for C, too!--I'm only explaining this once."
Justin brings the beers, and Chris herds them both to the couch.
"Okay, okay. Sit down and take notes. There will be a quiz."
JC thinks this is more likely to take four days than his attempt at answering Chris, but he doesn't point that out. He doesn't need to have Chris upset with him, too.
"Okay," Chris says. "I'm Lance and--"
Justin snorts and Chris glares at him before assuming a blank and vaguely dopey expression.
"--and this is the base Bass reading."
"Base Bass," Justin says.
"Yes. This is DEFCON 5. This is Lance in a peaceful state."
This is ridiculous.
"Dude," Justin says. "I think--can I go get my camcorder?"
"The mysteries of the Bass-o-Meter may only be revealed by those who have figured it out on their own."
"Is that a 'no'?"
"Yes, it's a 'no'," JC says. "And can we hurry this along? Please?"
"When Lance is upset, the Bass-o-Meter rises."
Justin chuckles. "That's not the only thing that--"
"This is a serious discussion, class. We'll have no more of these innuendo-laced interruptions."
"Are you sure I can't get my camera?"
JC and Chris say together: "Justin, shut up."
"Fine, but next time? You're holding your meeting at your own damn house."
"Fine," Chris says. "Then next time? The weed will be better."
"Guys," JC says. "Four days, all right? Four--"
"DEFCON 4," Chris says and waves his hands until he has their attention. "The Bass-o-Meter is here." He taps his shoulder. "Something's bugging Lance, it goes to his shoulders first. They seem a little tight. Maybe he's hunched in a little or maybe--"
"He does the reverse," JC says, getting it. "You can tell. He puts a good face on things and his chest goes forward and his shoulders back."
Chris grins and breaks from his pose to pounce on JC and kiss him all sloppy and disgusting on his cheek.
"My baby--I'm so proud! You've taken your first step on the path to greater Bass understanding."
JC wrestles with him and wipes his wet cheek on Chris' shirt. Chris falls back so he's wedged between them. He kisses Justin's cheek, too, and Justin grins.
"Okay," Chris says. "You get it. It goes on from there. Tight shoulders, clenched jaw, flared nostrils--"
"But you don't get that one so much," Justin says. "He's too self-conscious about his nose."
"True," Chris says. "True, but that's your last warning before the serious shit. So you've got to be careful, because, man, you do not want to mess with the angry eyebrows."
Justin claps his hands like an excited three-year-old. "Angry eyebrows! Yes! Angry eyebrows are the best."
JC's made a huge tactical error. He should have gone to Joey instead. Sure, with Joey there was the risk that Lance would hear the whole conversation later, but at least Joey wasn't crazy.
But it's too late now. He's here for the night, so he might as well make the best of it.
"That's great," JC says. "But how--"
"How upset is he?" Chris asks. "On the Bass-o-Meter scale, roughly how upset with you do you think Lance is?"
"Oh. Um..." JC hasn't seen Lance much. It goes along with the whole Lance-not-talking-to-him thing, but he thinks... "Maybe lip level?"
"Hmm." Chris and Justin exchange looks.
"Yes," JC says. "His lips. He's kinda... holding his mouth funny? Like he's got a sore tooth or--"
"He's holding himself back from saying something," Justin says.
"He's not so much upset as... disappointed," Chris says.
"You can get all that from his lips?"
"Yeah," Chris says. "That--and my advanced years and understanding."
Justin ruffles Chris' hair. "Yeah, man, you're Cornelius, the oldest and the wisest elephant in--"
"An elephant," Chris says. "You're calling me an elephant. I'm way too delicate and small to--"
"I like elephants," Justin says.
Chris smiles. "I can be an elephant."
"But that doesn't help," JC says. "Upset or disappointed, it doesn't matter. If I don't know why, I don't know how to fix it."
"And you want to fix it," Justin says, "by his birthday?"
"I've got to. Start the year like you mean to end it, you know."
"Um... no?" Justin says.
But it's obvious. How can Justin not get it?
"Lance starts a new year," JC explains, "on his birthday."
"Duh," Justin says. "That's kinda the point of birthdays."
"Exactly!"
At least that's settled. JC congratulates himself and reaches for his beer.
"Um..."
Justin is frowning, and Chris is rubbing the back of Justin's neck. It reminds JC of the old days, of all the time spent hanging with his best guys. He smiles at them and takes a drink.
"Exactly what?" Justin asks.
"I think C's afraid that if Lance hates him on his birthday, then Lance will hate him forever."
JC nods. That's close enough.
"But Lance doesn't hate him."
"I know," Chris says. "But... JC's not entirely wrong."
"Hey!" JC says. He tries to laugh, but... It would have been nice to hear that he was just imagining things or that Lance was, in fact, extremely busy.
"Get him a good gift," Justin says like he's imparting great wisdom. "Lance is a sucker for a good gift."
"That's your advice for everything," Chris says.
Justin shrugs. "What can I say? I've never been wrong."
"Yeah, that's it," Chris says. "That's got to be it. Our little Timberpuddle is never wrong."
"Ass." Justin pushes him away, but he's grinning from ear-to-ear. He looks over at JC and strikes a pose. "What can I do? I was born this fabulous."
"Baby," Chris says, "no one's born that fabulous."
"No?"
"No, you've got to be dropped on your head first."
Justin shoves Chris and pins him down, but he's pinning him to JC's lap.
"Guys! Hey, come on, stop it."
Chris squirms and shouts, and JC can't believe he came to them for advice. What was he thinking?
"Wanna give up?" Justin says. "Wanna take it back?"
Chris shakes his head. "No! You'll never make me!"
"Wanna bet?"
JC is relieved when their tussling moves to the floor. Certain parts of him had found the all the wriggling interesting, and Chris will never grow past the stage where other people's erections amuse him.
He tucks his legs up out of the wrestlers' way and watches them. They're as carefree as puppies, and maybe JC understands. Maybe he thought they could help because they've had their share of strained, silent months in the past, but they're obviously okay now--better than okay, even.
JC wants that. Well... not the deranged-puppy part, but the rest. He wants to be better-than-okay with Lance again. They used to have so much fun together. And now that he thinks about it, things have been a little off between them for... maybe five... six months? But Lance was still talking to him until about a month ago...
Maybe Justin is right. Maybe JC just needs to find the perfect gift, something that says: I'm sorry about whatever it was, please forgive me 'cause I love you, man and, hey, look at the neat things I buy you!
But you're not supposed to do that, are you? God knows, JC's heard Don't you apologize to me, till you know what you're apologizing for! enough. But maybe that's a girl thing? Only girls have ever accused him of it--and really, it makes no sense. It's a head/heart thing and apologies are totally about feelings, man, not understanding.
Yeah. So that's a girl thing, and Lance? Lance is not a girl. But... he'd still like to know what was wrong. How else can he keep it from happening again?
The floorshow's calmed down some, so JC thinks it's safe to intervene. He unfolds his legs and prods Justin's backside with his toes.
"Hey, do you guys even know what you're fighting about?"
"Nope!" Chris sings out, while Justin says, "He dissed my momma!"
"What? No, I didn't!"
"You said she dropped me on my head!"
"No, I--"
"My momma's the best, she'd never--"
"Hey!" JC and Chris say. JC lets Chris continue. "I didn't say that. I didn't say who dropped you, baby. It was probably the delivery-room nurse--isn't that right, C?"
"Yeah."
"Oh," Justin says. "Okay."
He smiles. All is right with Justin's world again, and JC can't help but think of fifteen years ago, because Justin's so cute and oblivious to the fact that Chris has still insulted him.
"Oof," Chris says, going limp and still. "I'm not one to complain, but--"
JC and Justin laugh.
"Fuckers. See if I help you when you're my age and some big, muscle-bound superstar pins you to the cold, hard floor and--"
"Oh, no," Justin says. "Don't even--no. Do you know how much I paid for this floor? This is primo, Grade A, superstar diva carpeting and you know it. It's more comfortable than your bed."
"Well, my primo, 'Grade A' ass says--"
Justin shoves the coffee table aside and rolls off of Chris.
"--oh, that's better."
"Hmmph."
"Hey, kiddo." Chris pokes Justin. "My superstar diva gut makes a great pillow--way better than your floor."
"Yeah?"
"You know it."
"Okay, then."
JC watches them sprawl out together and thinks maybe it's time for them to all find their beds. They are getting old and this pop life's all about early bedtimes these days... if two AM counts as early?
"What are you going to get him?" Justin says.
It takes JC a moment to realize he's talking to him.
"Sorry. What?"
"Lance's birthday. Let's figure out what you're going to give him."
"Maybe that's private," Chris says.
"No, don't be that way, C. Okay? This is like really important and you should consult the gift expert. I mean, this gift is like... your future with Lance, right?"
"Well..." JC wouldn't go quite that far.
"Come on, C. Please?"
"Man, you're dealing with a frustrated personal shopper here. We'll get nothing but whining till you agree."
"It's not whining if it's important!"
"Okay," JC says.
"Great!" Justin claps his hands and then rubs them together. "Now, down to business. What are you considering?"
"Um..." JC hasn't actually thought that far ahead. "What are you getting him?"
"Kisses," Justin says.
"Kisses."
"Oh, yeah," Chris says. "It's going to be awesome."
"Hershey's Kisses?"
"No," Justin says. "This is way better."
"You're not... hiring him a bunch of hookers, are you? That's totally--"
"Oh, please, anyone can hire hookers. Justin Timberlake is not just anyone."
"Justin Timberlake," Chris says, "talks about himself in the third person."
"Justin Timberlake can kick your ass," Justin says, and JC knows it's time to interrupt. One wrestling match per night is enough.
"So, not hookers?"
"Nope. There's this company that you can send lip prints to and they turn them into... uh... lithographs?" Justin looks to Chris. "Is it lithographs?"
"It's all art to me, man."
"And they turn them into art. It's pretty cool. So, I had my people talk to some other people and, voilà, I've got lip prints from Bette Midler and Reba McEntire."
Okay, that was weird, but also a little awesome.
"And then, hey, since I was working with Madonna, it was easy to ask her for--"
"You're giving Lance a lip print from Madonna?"
Was it terribly petty of him to be insanely jealous now?
"Yeah," Chris says. "Isn't that fuckin' awesome?"
Justin grins.
"But, but..." But it wasn't fair! JC was the huge Madonna fan! "But Lance is gay!"
"Duh."
"What's that got to do with it?" Chris asks.
"Isn't that weird? Giving a gay man lip prints from a bunch of women?"
Justin sits up. "That's not cool, man. Being gay doesn't make Lance any less able to appreciate good music."
"I don't know," Chris says. "I'm pretty sure being gay--and Southern--is the only reason why he thinks Bette and Reba are good music."
"Shut up," Justin says. "Country music is perfectly respect--"
"Uh, oh!" Chris announces. "The Timber-Meter has just reached DEFCON 3."
"Oh, fuck off, and tell C the rest of it."
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. The lip-print people are totally gay-approved. J read about them in the Advocate and--"
"You read the Advocate?"
Justin nods. "I was in a boy band, C. I never know when I might see one of my friends in there, you know? And their ads are always for the coolest shit."
Oh. Huh. That was just really surprising, but reasonable when explained like that.
"Anyway," Chris says, "a portion of the lip-print proceeds goes to AIDS charities in developing countries. So, if Lance isn't impressed with lip prints from three super divas--"
"Then he's crazy," Justin says.
"Then he's crazy," Chris says, "and sure to love the fact that his gift just bought three thousand condoms for people in India."
"And if three thousand condoms aren't impressive enough, there's Chris' gift."
"And my gift is ten times as awesome."
"Not ten times."
"No, it totally is."
"Uh... guys?" JC says.
"I bought five lip-print kits," Chris says. "And we're all going to do it at Lance's party."
"We are?"
"Yeah."
"Isn't that cool?" Justin says.
"I don't know, man... lip prints? Are you really into that? It doesn't sound very... sanitary."
Justin nods. "Oh, I know. That's what I thought at first, too. But it's all very hygienic. Each kit comes with its own little tube of lipstick, so there's no germ swapping and shit. And the print cards are--"
"Kiss sheets," Chris says. "They call 'em 'kiss sheets.'"
"And the kiss sheets are individually wrapped, and once you've got your perfect print, it's sealed to prevent smudging. And that means it's not like... festering while you're sitting around waiting to mail it off. It's really well thought out, the whole process."
"And think about it," Chris says. "That's a total of eight thousand condoms, plus all the *NSYNC boys wandering around Lance's party wearing lipstick. Lance will fuckin' love it!"
"And we're working on setting up a charity auction. Our lip prints to the highest bidder--"
No, that was scary. There are people out there who shouldn't be allowed that close to their lips, not even symbolically.
"--and the proceeds to the charity of Lance's choice."
"Wow," JC says. "You guys... You've really planned this all out together."
"Yeah," Chris says. "And it's perfect, because my boy here's going to be the highest bidder."
Oh, good. It wouldn't be too bad if Justin bought his lips.
"Through a proxy," Justin says. "I don't wanna see the headlines--"
"Justin Timberlake Covets the Fine Kirkpatrick Lips!"
"Nah," Justin says. "It's not your lips."
Chris grins. "Ooo, hear that, C? Justin must be coveting the fine Fatone lips."
"That's okay. Kelly can kick his ass, and she wears really pointy shoes."
"You know what I meant," Justin tells Chris.
"Yeah," Chris says. "I do."
Justin's got people to see in the morning, so he excuses himself soon afterwards. Chris drags himself up off the floor, and JC offers to fetch him another beer.
"No, man. I'm going to take a leak, and then I think we better switch to water."
JC agrees. He's got to go himself, so he heads towards the bathroom near the kitchen while Chris goes upstairs.
He brings back a couple of bottles of water and thinks about gifts while he waits for Chris. He loses track of time because he can't think of anything that isn't either lame or better suited to one of the other guys.
When Chris returns, JC tells him, "I've got nothing, man. There's no way I can top your gifts."
Chris flops down on the opposite end of the couch.
"C, you don't have to top our thing. Forget what Justin said, okay? He's got a heart of gold, but he puts a little too much faith in the bling."
JC nods.
"All you need is something small and thoughtful."
"I--"
"And not thoughtful like 'I've been plotting this for months' because that really isn't your forte. Leave that for Lance and me, all right?"
"I'm not a secret mastermind. Yeah, I got it."
"Do thoughtful like... like you work for Hallmark. Something like... uh... 'The distance between us, I hate it...'"
"'So, your birthday cake, I ate it'?"
Chris laughs. "Yeah, he'd eat that shit up. Go all One Fish, Two Fish on him, man."
"And Hop on Pop?"
"Yeah, do that. 'Cause you're a lyrical genius, but you're no match for the Doctor."
"Not yet," JC says. "I'm saving that for my next album, The Green Eggs and Ham Ultimate Party Remix."
For a minute, JC actually considers it. He can totally see the Status Quo guys dancing to it. A little Marky Mark, a little Sam I Am...
"If you do that," Chris says, sounding half asleep, "I want in on it."
Just the thought of a collaboration with him makes JC feel all warm and fuzzy. JC wants to hug him, but Chris is already asleep. JC shrugs and wonders how comfortable Justin's floor really is.
#
JC is made of fail.
It's the fourth, and he doesn't have a damn thing for Lance. He's an indecisive idiot and he's promised Justin and Chris that he'll arrive early so they can all do the lip thing together, just the five of them, before the party. But JC's damned if he's going to go empty-handed.
He's vetoed every sort of gift he could think of. He thinks he'd really like to give Lance a trip... like the two of them going to New Zealand or something, but it's too fraught with complications.
If he gives Lance two tickets, he might want to go with a boyfriend. If he gives Lance one ticket and keeps the other for himself, it's going to hurt like hell if Lance refuses to go with him. Four tickets, and it's like a double date, but JC's single. He doesn't want to take just anyone along with them--and he certainly doesn't want to watch Lance with another guy when it should be Lance-and-JC time.
Five tickets would be perfect, and he spends half the day really hating *NSYNC because he can't spend the rest of his life in a perfect group of five. The real world doesn't accommodate groups of five well, and everything sucks.
And now it's past the time he agreed to be there and he's got nothing. And, fuck it, maybe that's a sign. Maybe he shouldn't go.
Forty minutes later, his phone rings.
He checks the ID, and, of course, it's Chris. He doesn't have to answer, but even JC knows that that would be taking being a stupid idiot a step too far. He answers.
"You better be dead in a ditch somewhere, you freak."
JC blinks. Somehow, that's better than he expected.
"The dead are answering phones now?"
"Fine," Chris says. "You better be mostly dead in a ditch somewhere. You're at fucking DEFCON 1, man, and a breath away from angry eyebrows and total world annihilation."
"Lance is that upset?"
"Lance? I'm talking about Justin. Justin's going to go postal on your ass 'cause you're messing with The Lip Plan. Lance just looks hurt. The Bass-o-Meter doesn't even begin to cover it, but he's Lance. He'll put on his game face when everyone else gets here."
Lance shouldn't have to fake it on his birthday. JC is so totally made of fail.
In the background, JC hears: "Is that C? Gimme the phone, gimme the phone."
"Do I need to give my--do I need to give Justin the phone?" Chris asks.
"No, that's okay, I--"
The doorbell rings.
"There's someone at the door."
"Good," Chris says.
"What? Chris? Are you at the door?"
"No."
The doorbell rings again and again.
"Wow, there's someone really impatient at the door."
"Well, maybe you better go answer it. That's--"
"I'm going, I'm going."
"--kinda the point of doorbells."
JC checks and it's Joey at the door, which shouldn't surprise him 'cause who else would it be? But he's still surprised.
"It's Joey," he tells Chris as he hurriedly presses buttons on the security panel.
"I know," Chris says. "Open the door already."
"I am, I--"
And Joey walks in, takes the phone, says "Thanks, Chris," and snaps it shut. He shoves the phone in his pocket and glares at JC.
"Joey," JC says, feeling miserable and small.
"I am so fucking mad at you right now, C, I can't even talk about it."
JC nods.
"And if you show up with a black eye, that's going to look really fucking bad."
JC nods again.
"And I'm not talking about your face 'cause I don't care if you're fucking butt-ugly for the next three weeks--hell, it would probably do you some good. But there's no way in hell that I'm going to let Lance know that you had to be fucking knocked out before you pulled your head out of your ass enough to fucking show at his goddamn birthday--"
Joey pauses and takes a deep breath.
JC says, "But I--"
"--But Chris swore that you're not being an asshole, that you're just panicking and we have to keep you from hating yourself in the morning. And Justin said some freaky shit about destiny and... uh... 'the physical manifestation of your love in a box'?--which, seriously, I don't even want to understand 'cause it sounds as freaky as hell, but you better start explaining anyway."
"I don't have a present for Lance."
"Jesus, C. Is that it? That's your excuse?" Joey shakes his head. "That's just... pretty fucking lame. You know Lance doesn't give a shit about that. He doesn't need a present."
"But I needed to get him one," JC says. "Joey, please, he's been upset with me. I made him angry and I--"
"Angry? Lance isn't--"
"He's been upset with me for weeks, Joey, and I needed something... something perfect to say 'please forgive me, even though I don't know shit 'cause I really miss us being friends.'"
"God." Joey tugs JC forward and wraps an arm around him. "You kill me. Lance isn't angry at you. He's just been a little... down--a little blue--so the last thing he needs is to be ditched by a buddy on his big day. How can you be such a moron?"
"I was dropped on my head?" JC mumbles into Joey's shoulder.
"Nah, that's Justin--and I can't believe you went to him for advice. What were you thinking?" Joey squeezes him, then moves back and gives JC a stern look. "Next time, when you have a Lance problem and not enough balls to go straight to the source? Come to me. Okay? None of this stupid shit. Consult the Lance expert, because this is it. I won't forgive you again."
JC nods.
"Now I'm going to save your ass, and then you're going to put on something pretty, and we're going to go to a party because Lance Bass only turns twenty nine once. Got it?"
"Yeah... and if you save my ass, it's totally yours, man."
"Eh, I don't want anything that scrawny."
JC sniffs and smiles at him.
"Okay," Joey says. "Now... did you get Lance's book?"
"Yeah, I--"
"No commentary needed. Just, do you have it and can you find it quickly?"
"Yes."
"Great. Do you have any wrapping paper?"
"No, I... usually get things wrapped, but... you're not--you want me to give Lance a copy of his own book?"
"Don't question my genius. I'm going to get wrapping paper, you go get the book and if you have... a bookmark or some Post-it notes or a note card or something, get that, too."
"Um... okay."
It sounds weird, but Joey really does know Lance best. So JC gets the stuff, and when he returns, Joey's waiting for him with a roll of aluminum foil.
"Oh, Joey, no. We can't--we can go get some real paper."
"Are you kidding? This is great. You can make Chris a tin hat with it after." Joey takes the book from him and flips through it. "Looks like maybe you have read this. That's cool."
"Not all of it. Lou and us--I couldn't. But the stuff about his childhood and space and coming out, I read that."
"Okay." Joey hands it back to him. "Find the picture in there from Challenge. You know the one?"
JC knows it. "The one from 2003."
"That's it. Now take one of your little pink Post-its there and write something like--"
"No," JC says. "I think I've got it. I know what to--I just need a pen..."
Joey hands him one.
The note's not that big, so in tiny letters, JC writes: This isn't the last photo. There's 5 of us tonight and plenty of cameras. So, Happy Birthday, man! ♥ C.
He sticks it over the Challenge photo. But it's not quite... He grabs another note.
Please forgive me, even though I don't know shit 'cause I really miss us being friends.
He sticks that on the page, too, and closes the book.
"No bookmark?" Joey says.
"No."
"Then dog-ear the page or something. You want it to fall open to that page."
JC hates dog-eared pages. He opens the book again, finds the picture, and leaves his pen wedged between the pages. He closes it and gives it to Joey.
"Great," Joey says. "This will look pretty ghetto, but don't worry about it. It's perfect. Now go get pretty, and I'll--"
"But this is what I was planning to wear."
"Really?" Joey eyes him critically.
"Yeah."
"Well, it's your lucky day, then. Two interventions for the price of one, all right? 'Cause you rock the 'I stole this shit from my grandpa' look like--"
"Hey, that's--"
"--like no one else, but no. I've heard we're all wearing lipstick tonight and there's no way I'm going to let you wear that. Grandpas and make-up do not mix."
"But--"
"I saved your ass, I own it, and I can tell your ass what to wear."
"Geez, some people--"
Joey glares.
"I'll change," JC says.
"ASAP, man."
"Yeah, yeah. I got it."
#
When they arrive, Joey stops JC from exiting the car. "Look, C, I'm only going to say this once, all right? And then we'll forget all about it."
JC thinks there's going to be some yelling after all, but he can take it. He deserves it. So, he pats Joey's hand and tells him, "It's all right, man. It's okay."
"It's a fucking miracle that Justin's here, and we all know it--"
Wait, this was about Justin?
"--just like we all know damn well that the miracle's name is Chris Kirkpatrick, even if we're not supposed to say it."
"Uh? What?"
"Justin and Chris," Joey says and nods like that's an answer. "And that's all cool, man. His being here really means something, because--just between us--I know Lance never expected it to happen."
"That really sucks."
"I know. But, hey, he's here and maybe things will change and it's great. But. All that would've meant shit to Lance if you weren't here tonight."
"No, that's--"
"Hey," Joey says. "You interrupt a lot for someone whose ass is owned. Stop it before I have to go all medieval on you."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Fatone, sir."
Joey laughs and cuffs him on the ear. "You're a mouthy little punk, but the rest of us need you. You're... uh... you're like our balance, man. You're as tight with Chris and Justin as you are with Lance and me. And we need that. You're... the only one who doesn't have a favorite."
JC doesn't see how anyone could pick a favorite out of the four of them, they're all just the absolute best. They have so much in common and yet they're all so wonderfully themselves. JC knows he could never do it.
"So," Joey says. "We can go in now 'cause you're never going to pull this shit again, right?"
"I'm won't," JC promises, hugging him. "Thanks, man, you're my hero."
Joey pushes him out of the car. "Enough of this mushy shit, we've got a party."
#
The party's already underway when they get there, but Joey guides JC past the front rooms, insisting that the guys will still be doing their private gift-exchange.
When they enter Lance's study, Joey shouts, "Hey, honey, I'm home!"
While Justin and Chris laugh, JC sees surprise race across Lance's face. It's followed by a small smile that makes Lance's eyes seem even bigger than usual. JC returns the smile, then ducks his head because, yeah, he knows he's an idiot.
Joey drags him forward. "And look who I found in the middle of a fashion emergency."
There's more laughter, though JC's pretty sure he heard Chris snort at that. Chris doesn't appreciate high fashion half as much as he should.
"Seriously," Joey says, "you should have seen what he was wearing. It would have blinded you."
Lance chuckles. "That's one way to make my birthday unforgettable. 'May 4, 2008, the day the former members of *NSYNC were all inexplicably struck blind.' Thanks, Joe, but I think I'll pass on that one."
Chris and Justin hoot at that.
"Permanent disability," Chris says.
"The gift that keeps on giving!" Justin says.
"Wow," Lance says. "Keep polishing your routine, guys. I think you're just about ready to hit the Hoboken comedy circuit."
"Oh, no," Justin says. "We're holding out for the big time."
"Yes," Chris says, bouncing up to stand on his chair. "Lansing, Michigan, here we come!"
JC sees that Lance has opened some of his gifts already. He goes over to examine the three large, framed prints and Lance joins him.
"Trying to figure out which one is Madonna's?"
"Yeah, man, you know me." JC feels like a huge dork, but Lance nods and gives him another of those little smiles, and he feels better.
"Oh!" JC says then, realizing his mistake. "I haven't--" He hugs him, but it's awkward because he's still holding Lance's gift. "Happy Birthday, you know?"
"What have you got there?" Lance asks. "A TV dinner?"
"It's uh... your present. Have you opened everyone else's? Did I miss everything?"
Lance takes the gift from him and thumps it thoughtfully. "No, I haven't opened Chris' yet, but... Foil, C? That's--"
"Well, I... uh... heard there was a condom theme to this year's gifts."
"Condom theme? Oh, yeah. Justin did say something about three thousand condoms. I'm not sure how he does it, you know? Doing something that cool that's still..."
"That crazy?"
"Yeah." Lance thumps the package again. "Can I open this now?"
"Um..." JC glances at the others. They're all busy fooling around, but Joey and Chris still manage to seem like vigilantly hovering sheepdogs. "I think you'd better open Chris' next."
"Okay."
Lance is delighted with the lip-print kits. It's an awesome gift, but JC thinks Lance gets more pleasure from watching the Chris-and-Justin Show as they explain it to him. Before Justin can finish talking about the charity auction, Chris gets into the lipstick and starts telling everyone to pucker up.
"Come on," Chris tells Joey. "Plant one on me."
When Joey refuses, Chris pouts.
"Come on, you know what they say. 'Practice makes perfect lip prints.'"
Justin pulls him away from Joey. "Cool it, man. We'll find someone else to practice with you."
"It's a lost cause," Lance tells him. "If Chris hasn't figured out kissing by now, no amount of practice is going to help."
"Hey!" Chris says. "Your birthday doesn't automatically make it Pick On Chris Day."
"It's okay," Justin says. "I'll practice with you."
Justin plants one on Chris--right on Chris' lips. And Chris laughs and kisses him back, like for real. JC blinks and stares. It might be a joke, but... they look... they look so practiced at it. Lance and Joey laugh, then Joey elbows JC and he stops staring.
"Wow," JC says. "Umm..."
Lance is looking at him strangely. JC blinks again.
"Is there something going on there?" JC asks.
"'Is there...' Oh, shit," Joey says and laughs so hard he's clutching his belly. "Oh, oh, fuck. C, you're priceless."
JC looks at Lance. "I've missed something."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to see that," Lance says. He taps the table, then picks up JC's gift.
"What's that?" Justin says. "Who brought leftovers?"
"It's the world's largest condom wrapper," Lance tells him.
"Dude, that's... that's--no. I don't want to meet that dick."
Chris and Joey will probably have muscle cramps tomorrow from laughing so much.
Lance looks at JC and raises a brow.
"Yeah," JC says. "Go ahead and open it."
Lance carefully unfolds the foil. He stops as soon as the book's cover is visible. He glances up at JC, then looks down and touches his face on the cover.
"What's that?" Chris asks.
Justin leans forward for a better look. "You're giving Lance a copy of his own book?"
"Justin, shut up," Joey and Chris say.
"But--"
"Shh!"
Lance peels off the rest of the foil and immediately opens the book to where the pen is. JC holds his breath while Lance reads the notes.
Lance bites his lip, glances around and then reads the notes again. JC is going to faint if he doesn't breathe soon.
Lance pulls the pen out and snaps the book shut. He puts the pen on the table, but keeps hold of the book like he doesn't want anyone else to see it.
"Guys... uh... JC and I need to talk--"
Oh god, JC thinks.
"--so... uh... you all need to go out there and start partying without us. And uh... don't scare the rest of my friends away."
"You got it," Joey says and pushes Justin towards the door.
"Woo!" Chris says as they leave. "Now the party can begin!"
Lance rakes a hand through his hair.
"It's true," JC says. "I am sorry, even though I don't--"
"There isn't... There isn't really anything for you to apologize for." Lance laughs, but it's an uncomfortable sound that feels out of place here. "I... uh... You really have no idea, do you?"
"No." JC shakes his head. "I don't. Things were just suddenly all wrong."
Lance's lips twist like he's considering his words.
"About a month ago," JC adds. "A little more than a month ago."
"Yeah," Lance says. "And what was happening about a month ago?"
"Um... Dance Crew and stuff?"
"Anything else?"
"No, not really... Well, there was the whole kerfuffle about Chace, but yeah, whatever."
Lance rubs one of his eyebrows and JC stares at it, helplessly fascinated now that he knows about the Bass-o-Meter.
"Yeah," Lance says. "That Chace stuff..."
Oh, JC thinks. He hadn't thought of that.
"Chris said you were disappointed... I didn't know. You were interested in Chace? But--"
"Chace? Oh, Jesus. JC--"
"But he's so not your type, man. Even if he were gay. He's... well, he's nice, but you deserve--You can do so much better."
"JC, I'm not interested in Chace. I never have been and I never will be, okay?"
"Yeah? That's great 'cause really--"
Lance presses a finger to JC's lips. "Let me do the talking, okay? It'll go faster."
JC nods.
"I've been protecting you," Lance says. "You were so disgusted with everyone and so emphatic about being straight--"
"But--"
"Hush. And then Joey did his 'Lance is the only gay one' thing, and that was so entirely unconvincing. And... so... I was protecting you."
"Protecting me from what?"
"From more gay rumors! You didn't need to be seen with me right then."
"I don't--I don't ever need to be protected from you."
"You were so disgusted--"
"They were totally making shit up! Saying I was places I wasn't. And Chace? Geez. So not gay and so not established enough to weather the rumors."
"I kept waiting for you," Lance says.
"Waiting for me?"
"I thought... I thought, 'I know JC and he's going to laugh this off and say it's not important, that I don't need to protect him.'"
"I don't. I--"
"But you never did. You never said anything, so I thought I was wrong, that your reputation was more important than me."
"Jesus, Lance, never. Never. You know that."
"Not as much as I thought, I guess. Maybe I'm still learning this whole out thing. But you didn't--"
"Fuck. I love you, man. You're one of the best people ever. And... and... don't you--Don't you ever value yourself less than my reputation."
Lance makes a small sound and JC's so close, he can feel Lance shaking. He wraps himself around Lance and holds him tightly.
"I didn't get it," JC tells him. "I'm sorry. I thought you were angry with me and I didn't know what to do. You're one of my best guys, you know? You're so solid and genuine and, Jesus, so much more important than my straight reputation 'cause... Come on, man, we all know that's been like whisper-thin for years."
Lance chuckles and JC feels it as little puffs of breath on his neck.
"You are pretty flaming," Lance says.
"I can't help it. I like what I like." JC rubs Lance's back. "Are we okay?"
"I think so."
"Was my gift okay?"
"Well..."
"Aw, man, there goes that theory. It's not just the thought that counts."
"No," Lance says. "It was great, but... your reputation for cheapness will never be in danger."
"I wanted to give you a trip to New Zealand."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," JC says. "'Cause like... kiwis, man. Wouldn't that be cool?"
"Kiwis." Lance laughs. "I suppose you're going to tell me that kiwis are neato."
"They totally are." JC grins. "Would you... be interested in that?"
"Going to New Zealand with you?"
It thrills JC that Lance automatically assumes that they'd be going together.
"Yeah," JC says.
"Yes."
"Oh, cool."
That's just so awesome. Maybe Chris and Justin bought better gifts, but JC's is going to be a lot more fun in the long run.
"So..." Lance says. "If we're good, we should probably go to my party."
"No," JC says. "Let's do the lip prints first, okay? Justin will hound us otherwise."
"I don't know..." Lance opens a kit and starts taking everything out a piece at a time. "I think Chris might keep him busy."
"God, yeah. I just... didn't see that one coming... like not at all."
"I know," Lance says. "It's kinda cute."
"Yeah." JC picks up a packet of kiss sheets and looks at the directions. "They are kinda cute together... like puppies."
Lance laughs. "No, I meant you."
"What?"
"Nothing," Lance says. He smiles one of his huge, genuine grins and JC feels like he's won a prize.
"Here," Lance says. "Which lipstick do you want?"
JC takes the red one and paints his lips. "Hey," he says.
"What?"
"Aren't we doing this backwards?"
"Hmm?"
JC points to his lips. "Make-up," he says and picks up a kiss sheet. "And kiss. It's backwards."
Lance blinks, and then he gets it. "Oh, kiss and make up?"
"Okay," JC says, "if you insist."
JC plants one on him.
#
On the fifth, the gossip blogs are filled with photos of Lance's party and rumors of an *NSYNC reunion. Nearly every blog also points out--for the color-blind and the totally clueless--that the kiss print distinctly visible on Lance Bass' cheek is the same shade as JC Chasez's lipstick.
Once again, gay rumors are the only thing interviewers want to ask JC about. JC tells them, "Sorry, I'm still not gay." And when they ask about the photos and his relationship with Lance, he laughs with delight. "Thanks," he says, "that's very flattering. But even if I were gay, I'm not nearly hot enough to catch Lance Bass."
# # #
May 12, 2008
Chasez Trades Chace for Space?
Gay poster boy and former boy-bander Lance Bass forgot to go space, and now his fellow boy-banger JC Chasez has forgotten he's straight.
Barely a month after denying his relationship with Gossip Girl Chace Crawford, JC has flown off with his space man for an intimate vacation. We'd say it was a honeymoon, but they were acting more like an old married couple when our sources caught up with them at LAX. [You can watch a clip of them together under the cut.]
Sorry, Chace. Better luck next time!
Notes:
+Thank yous to: phaballa for the fic prompt, kira_j for the feedback and encouragement, and nopseud for insisting that I get it right. :) You guys are the best!
+Kiss Portraits are real. The company is DNA 11.
+If you don't know the YouTube movies that I stole "angry eyebrows" from, you're really missing out. Check them out!
Click to view