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The blindfold was too tight. No one would ever believe it, but
Lance had never been blindfolded before. It wasn’t something he’d ever been
interested in even recreationally, much less these circumstances. A loud voice told him to sit down,
to be quiet and not to make trouble, so he obeyed even though the ropes
were tight, too, and chafed where his wrists were bound behind his
back. Someone was hyperventilating beside him, low, harsh
sounds that threatened to transform into sobbing at any moment. “JC?” he whispered, and the uneven
breathing stopped for a second.
“Lance?”
“Yeah.” He scooted toward the sound until
they were shoulder to shoulder; not quite the embrace he would have
preferred, but it was better than being alone. “I’m here too.”
Lance turned blindly toward Joey’s voice. He sounded close; probably on the
same couch. It was hard to
tell with the way JC was shaking against him, tiny tremors that rippled
through them both. Chris and
Justin both made their presence known from across the room, and Lance
sagged against JC. All five of them, then. It wasn’t like they hadn’t joked
about this happening before, but that was joking. Things like this weren’t supposed
to happen. It’s why they
spent so much money on bodyguards and maybe they’d gotten all gotten a
little careless lately, but that was supposed to be one of the benefits of
not being at the top of the charts.
The door clicked open and something happened near Chris
and Justin that made them hiss quietly. Lance strained to listen, afraid
of what was happening, until a pair of hands quickly untied his blindfold
and flooded his vision with bright agony. He was still blinking against the
bright light when the door closed behind their captors. “They probably want money,” he said slowly. He hoped. He really didn’t want to think of
any other reason they might have been taken. “I have money,” JC said. He looked rough, like he’d been
picked up after a long night out.
“A lot. A lot of
money.”
Chris smiled even as he shifted against his bonds. “No shit? Call ‘em
in, Joe. I’m sure they’ll
just be wanting JC’s ATM card so they can let us
all go.”
Lance tried to think of the ransom movies he’d seen,
but it seemed that the kidnappers were always intent on killing the victim
when they were close to being caught. The end result was probably the
same whether they were psychos or in it for the money, and he curled in
toward JC at this realization.
JC’s stubble scratched but his curls were soft, and Lance shut his
eyes, breathing deeply because it might be the last time he ever touched
JC. As if reading his thoughts, JC coughed and said, “I’m
just glad you cats are here.
My four best friends. Y’all are the best, and I want to tell you what
an honor it’s been-“ “-oh, for-” Justin interrupted. “Please, JC.” -and a privilege,” JC said, louder, “to
have made music with you for so many years.” He obviously wanted to say more,
but he sniffled instead, making Lance’s hands twitch against the
ropes. It occurred to Lance
that this wasn’t necessarily the worst part, that he might have to watch
his friends being hurt, and that thought made him feel more alone than he
had when he’d thought he was the only one. The room fell silent again, and Lance stole a glance at
Joey. He was looking for
strength because Joey always took trouble in stride, but at the same time
he was looking for more. It
was the same thing he’d been seeking for years, and there it was, even
now. Joey’s bright eyes and
the soft set of his mouth still kindled warmth in the pit of Lance’s
belly, only this time it was amplified, distorted by desperation. A tiny, optimistic part of him was glad this was
happening now. Four months
from now he was supposed to stand up in church and smile while Joey
committed himself to marriage, and Lance had considered a lot of ways to
bow out, but never something like this. Nothing so
permanent.
“Also,” JC said suddenly. “Lance, remember when Justin got
hot sauce on your day planner and you were so mad at him because the pages
were all stuck together and he wouldn’t apologize?” “Yeah?” “It was me,” JC confessed. “Not Justin. So,
sorry.”
“That was like six years ago,” Lance said, just as
Justin shouted, “Now the truth comes out!” “This isn’t a fucking confessional,” Chris said
impatiently. “It’s not the
best time-“ “When, then?” JC shot
back. “We might die here, and
I don’t want to go to my grave before Justin can forgive me for making a
pass at his mom.”
“What?” Justin strained at his ropes. “It was a long time ago. I was young,” JC defended. “And really
drunk. She took care
of me, and, uh.”
“Oh, man, you must’ve been wasted!” Chris laughed. “C, did you get any?” Justin lunged at him, but missed
and ended up in his lap, wriggling with futility. “I touched her, um. Breast,” JC said awkwardly, his
face bright red. It was
probably a good idea for him to reveal this at a time when Justin was tied
up and helpless to rip his arms from their sockets. “Breast!” Chris hooted, then
yelped as Justin exacted revenge the only way he was able, by sinking his
teeth into Chris’ thigh.
Lance sighed.
He didn’t feel like joking around. As far as he was concerned, JC had
the right idea. They might
never get a chance to say these things again. “Also,” JC continued mournfully, “I wish I hadn’t
changed “bitches” to “women”.
It was just all this bullshit. If we ever get out of this, I
swear to God I’m going back to bitches. If we die here, no one will ever
know how it was really supposed to be.” “And that would be a real tragedy,” Chris said. He tried to squirm out of Justin’s
reach, which tangled them hopelessly together, laughing and grunting with
the effort to get free.
“I wish I’d done some things differently, too,” Lance
said. It had been a long time
since he’d fought the vicious teeth of panic, but it was happening now,
complete with the impaired judgment and the total loss of whatever control
he’d worked so hard to maintain.
His words were lost in the scuffle, so he spoke again, louder—too
loud, perhaps—when he touched his fingertips to JC’s ropes for strength
and said, “Joey. I love you-
am in love with you.” It wasn’t how he wanted to say it, but at least was out
there and now no matter what happened to them, nothing could change the
fact that when it had come down to it, he’d been true to himself. And it wasn’t like he’d expected a big declaration of
love in return, but he’d expected something. A nod, maybe, or a polite thank
you. He definitely hadn’t
expected the way Joey’s eyes went dark when the shock faded or the way
they fell shut as he slowly, woodenly turned away from
Lance. He also didn’t expect Chris’ “Fuck. No, Lance,” or the way Justin’s
chin dropped down to his chest in retreat. The realization took a long time to fully develop. First, the door opened and a man
with a headset walked in, dangling wires. In his hand was a pair of gleaming
scissors that he used to cut Justin’s ropes, carefully avoiding eye
contact with Lance. A few
seconds later a younger man walked in, subdued and remorseful, and when
Lance saw who it was, he thought that he just might puke. Ashton had a pocketknife he used first on JC and then
Lance, not meeting Lance’s eyes once. Waiting for him to cut through the
ankle ropes were the longest, hardest ten seconds Lance had ever suffered,
and he was gone the instant they fell away, out the door on shaky legs
that were still half-asleep.
No one followed, but it was just as well. He wouldn’t have stopped for them
anyhow. *** The papers came two days later, brought by courier and
signed by MTV’s team of top lawyers.
He spent an hour reading and re-reading the fine print until
satisfied that they were surrendering all rights to the tape, which had
been delivered along with the papers. At least the humiliation had been
somewhat contained, depending on whether or not Ashton’s crew could keep
their mouths shut. Lance
skipped lunch and stayed in his office, ignoring his ringing phone. How could he have been so stupid? The question wouldn’t leave him
alone. There had been few
times that he’d been tempted to let his feelings for Joey slip, and most
of those times involved close quarters and large quantities of
liquor. The worst part was
that the whole setup seemed so obvious now, and he was furious with
himself…furious with JC, even,
for not seeing it. He pushed
away the papers and tried to think of something else, but all he could
think of was Joey’s face and the way he’d just shut down, like he’d been looking
at a stranger.
“Plotting revenge?” JC appeared in the doorway with a
slight smile. Seeing him made
Lance realize he hadn’t seen another person in two days, but JC was the
only witness to the humiliation who Lance wasn’t ready to murder, so he
sighed and motioned him in.
“They’re really sorry,” JC said right away. “So they said.” Or rather, Chris had said. Chris had obviously been voted
into the unlucky task of attempting the first twenty apologies, which
Lance hadn’t even responded to.
“Yeah. They’re really sorry. And there’s no way they could’ve known what was going to happen.” Lance nodded, looking closely at JC. “So you don’t even care that they were going to humiliate us on television? Or that they were all in on it except for you and me?” “Joey didn’t know,” JC said. “He found out, but it was all planned by Chris and Justin. Lance, you know Joey. He’s…” “You don’t have to tell me what he is, C. About a hundred people have called me since it happened, and none of them were Joey.” Lance rested his elbows on the desk and spread his fingers to cover his face. Just because JC had been there on the worst moment of his life didn’t mean that he had to let him see the aftermath. Not hearing from Joey wasn’t a surprise, but it only encouraged Lance’s ever-hopeful imagination. He could kick himself for the dozens of scenarios that had crept into his mind in the past forty-eight hours, scenarios where Joey knocked on his door and picked up their friendship like nothing had happened. The more traitorous daydreams involved things that would never happen, but that didn’t stop him from thinking about ways Joey might apologize, ways Joey might touch him…and the ways he would forgive Joey. “They’re totally fucked up about it,” JC explained. “Good.” “Yeah.” A sly smile spread across JC’s face. “It’s pretty cool. Justin memorized all the tracks on my album and came by yesterday to discuss like, my creative insights and groundbreaking form.” Lance snorted. “He said that?” “He gave me this, too.” When JC extended his hand it was impossible to miss the watch that wrapped beautifully around his wrist, glittering with diamonds. Lance whistled his admiration and shook his head; Justin didn’t do things halfway, especially when it came to his friendships. “Keep him suffering.” “For a while,” JC agreed, and hopped up onto the edge of Lance’s gleaming mahogany desk. He rotated his wrist and admired his watch for a while before turning to Lance and asking, “Where’s Jessie at?” Jesse. Fuck. Lance didn’t even want to think about Jesse and the messages he’d left on Lance’s voicemail. It wasn’t like he wanted to avoid Jesse; he just couldn’t think of a way to tell him about what had happened. Guess what, Jess? Everybody's laughing at me because I thought I was dying and told Joey, my best friend, that I’m in love with him. “C, you have to do me a favor,” he said. “I promised Jesse I’d take him to that Mtv party tonight, and he’s really- I can’t let him down.” “You want me to bring your…Jesse…to the party? I don’t know, man. That’s kinda, I don’t really like bringing dudes to stuff, y’know? Hey, I bet Justin would do it, though. We should take advantage while we can. Want me to get him on the line?” “No,” Lance sighed, and bent forward to ease the heavy ache in his stomach. JC was sweet, definitely deserving of all the diamonds in the world, because he jumped off the desk and approached Lance from behind, offering only his touch and a listening ear as he pressed his fingers into Lance’s tense shoulders. Lance hadn’t cried when it had happened; he hadn’t even cried in the car on the way home. He hadn’t cried in his bed that night or the next, but there was something about the way JC’s hands picked up a rhythm to melt the tension, meaning nothing but comfort, that brought home how isolated he’d been since he’d made this huge mistake. “I’m sorry,” JC whispered. Lance could only swallow and nod when JC’s arms slid from his shoulders down into a loose embrace. It was bad enough that his face was wet when JC pressed his cheek against Lance’s. He didn’t think he could stand it if JC said anything else, and he didn’t. They stayed like that until Lance wiped his face and took a long, shuddering breath; then JC said, “I’ll take him.” “Thanks,” Lance said, his voice small and unfamiliar to his own ears. “But I can’t really get out of it. They’re airing my space promos, so I have to put in an appearance tonight at the very least.” “Lance. Call Joey.” “I can’t.” “He’s the one you’d normally be talking about this stuff with. It shouldn’t be me here.” “You’re fine. You’re the only one…” But JC was right. It was killing him to not call Joey, but Lance’s love for Joey had been there for so long that it was as much a part of him as nsync, as space, as his family. He couldn’t stand for it to be over, which it would be as soon as he and Joey took those first few awkward steps to put it all behind them. He would just have to hope that Joey didn’t show up at the party. ***
Of course Joey showed up at the party. Joey, Chris and Justin seemed to have been bonded together anew by their misguided prank, and wherever Lance turned, there they were. Watching him. Chris waved a few times and lifted his glass to Lance, who always turned away, touching Jesse’s sleeve. They were really more than he could handle right now, what with Ashton Kutcher lurking around, just waiting to make his move. Five drinks weren’t nearly enough for him to forget how
much he loathed the sight of the guy, but there were cameras everywhere,
so when Jesse got dragged off by Carson Daly and Ashton approached, Lance
calmly sipped at his martini.
“Hey Bass,” he said, and usually Ashton was like a big
puppy, leaping up onto people with eager eyes and wildly wagging tail, but
tonight he treaded carefully…as he well should. “How’s it going?” “I’m having a great time,” Lance said. It felt good to not have to hide
his sarcasm. “Yeah, well. Good. Hey, listen. I just wanted to say-“ “I swear to God if you say that you didn’t know what
would happen, this glass will be embedded in your face,” Lance
warned. “Okay, ha!
You got me,” Ashton chuckled nervously. His fingers went to his hair and
even though he was a little blurry to Lance, his nerves showed through
crystal clear. “But seriously, about Joey? You guys are tight, right? And who knows; I was thinking this
might be the perfect chance for the two of you to hook up, y’know?
Like, a good thing can come out of it.” The drink tasted metallic and bitter on his tongue as
he downed the rest of it in one gulp. “Are you serious?” he asked, and fine, let
the press see that he was pissed off, that Ashton fucking Kutcher wasn’t his best buddy. He didn’t even care anymore. “Are you seriously that
dense? Look,” he snapped, and
pointed toward the corner where Kelly was tucked happily beneath Joey’s
arm. “Do you see that? Does that look like someone who’s
looking for the chance to get with me?” It hurt and helped to say it out loud. At least he could face the truth,
unlike Ashton, whose mouth was open like he was searching for something
helpful to say.
“It’s okay,” Lance shrugged as he walked away. “I already knew.” He hadn’t gotten more than a three feet when he was snagged by a solid arm and ushered through the doors that led into a secluded foyer. He was only a few drinks away from oblivion and was anxious to get back to the bar, but he’d learned a long time ago that nobody said no to Papa Fatone. “Hey, kid.” “Hey.” He ducked his head, and Joe laughed. “C’mon, now. I already know you’ve been hittin’ the bottle pretty hard. I also know what happened, and God knows it’s not my place, but I’m going to say it anyhow since I know Joey won’t.” “Joe-“ “-No, just listen.” Joe forced his chin up and Lance met his eyes; kind eyes, Joey’s eyes. The room wasn’t swimming too badly, so Lance nodded and mumbled “Yes sir.” “What you said to him, it doesn’t surprise me. It does surprise me that you’re no longer on speaking terms, but that’ll pass. When it does, I want you to remember this. I talked to him today and he’s in bad shape, kid. Bad as you, maybe worse. Do you remember when he and Kelly broke up? Worse than that, for sure.” Lance shook his head. He didn’t need to hear this. “But he won’t do anything about it. You, you’re a go-getter about these kinds of things. Joey doesn’t want to rock the boat. Especially a boat he’s been in a long time, if you know what I mean. So talk to him, do you hear me?” “I hear you.” “Good.” Joe clapped him on the back and grabbed him in a tight hug. “Nice watch you got there.” Lance glanced down at his wrist, at the distracting sparkle of diamonds. “Yeah, Justin and his guilt.” He rolled his eyes, but Justin fastening the watch onto his wrist had definitely been a step toward reconciliation. Not because of the gift, but because his remorse had been so overwhelming when he’d apologized over and over again, Chris nodding sincerely at his shoulder. “You’ll all do just fine,” Joe said. Lance wasn’t so sure, but it was nice to hear. *** Five drinks hadn’t been enough, but apparently seven was the magic number. After seven drinks Lance let Chris climb onto his lap, and after eight he danced sandwiched between Chris and Justin, who laughed and held onto him like they’d never let go. Joey hung to the side with Kelly, but every time Lance’s attention wandered that way, Chris would bring him back in again, twirling him until he was breathless with relief that things might actually be okay. It was a true party, a whirlwind of music and laughing. His body was liquid happiness, glowing with the anesthetic effect of the drinks that he’d lost count of sometime after JC had brought him something fruity and cool against his lips. His feet wanted to dance, but they sent him stumbling forward, arms flailing until he was caught up in a solid grip that could only be one person. “Thanks,” he said right up into Joey’s face. Oh. Joey’s face. Lance blinked, but didn’t turn away because Joey looked perfect, like everything Lance had wanted for so long. But what he wanted wasn’t his own private secret anymore, so he moved to pull himself out of Joey’s grasp. “Hi.” Joey glanced over at Kelly, who was busy gossiping with a group of women. His hand remained on Lance’s wrist, wrapped loosely enough that that it wasn’t pushing, just asking. “Can we talk?” “Or we could dance,” Lance sidestepped. “That’s what I’m doing.” To make his point, he shook his hips and ignored the way his skin felt, hot and over-sensitive, where Joey’s fingers pressed into his wrist. Joey was easy, always up for smoothing things over, and Lance waited until Joey’s stare wasn’t quite so intense before he slipped away, back to the safety of Chris and Justin. JC ran up to them suddenly, eyes glowing. “I’m doing it!” he shouted over
the music. “I’m doing ‘Some
Girls,’ the real version. The real me, just like we talked
about!” he announced, and high-fived Chris
before following a woman with a clipboard out the door and toward the
sound of screaming fans.
*** The next morning Lance made toast for breakfast and read the newspaper. He started at the beginning and worked his way toward the entertainment section, where he found a headline proclaiming, “Nsync’s Chasez issues apology to fans’ parents; lyrics may have been inappropriate.” “Yeah,” JC said sadly when Lance called. “I think I’m switching back to ‘women.’ Also, the ‘pussy’ part didn’t go over very well. Um, some girl tried to punch me after.” “What happened with security?” “It was Gwen Stefani,” JC mumbled. “But she was like, taking it out
of context. I love pu-women,
y’know?” “I know you do,” Lance offered. He tipped his head backward onto the back of his office chair, smiling up at the ceiling. “I have to go, C. Somebody’s at the door. Good luck.” It was Joey at the door, dragging a brown leather suitcase. “Ready?” he asked. Lance stared at him blankly. “Ready for…” “The trip to
“My trip to
“It’ll take four days to get there, don’t you think?” Lance narrowed his eyes on Joey. “Is this another one of those jokes? I really thought y’all had learned your lesson.” “We have!
I have. What, you
seriously don’t remember?
Last night you invited me along to
“I wanted to road trip?” It was pretty hard to believe. Lance wasn’t a fan of the road trip or anything it entailed-- mainly fatigue, fast food and germ-infested public restrooms. However, he was a fan of having alone-time with Joey, so there was the distinct possibility that in his drunken state he might have made this suggestion. He’d always been a glutton for punishment as far as Joey was concerned. “I don’t know,” he hedged, but Joey just smiled and started up the stairs toward Lance’s bedroom. “Let’s get you packed!” he said. Lance hesitated, but then Joey
tripped on the fourth step and when he looked back over his shoulder with
laughter, Lance followed. He
didn’t know what to say, but it was all right. Joey made it all right by keeping
up a steady stream of conversation while Lance packed, not leaving room
for any awkwardness.
Lance waited until they were on the freeway to finally say, “So, last night. Did I apologize?” “To me?” Joey squinted sideways at Lance. “Who else would I be apologizing to?” “I dunno. Why would you do it to me?” Lance nodded. Joey always made things so easy, easier than he knew he deserved, sometimes. “Because whether I meant to or not, I made things weird. You were, uh, a little surprised. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” “Surprised, not mad,” Joey pointed out. He shrugged and cheerfully tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m sexy. You can’t help it, right?” “Yeah, well. I’ve always had bad taste,” Lance dismissed. It was silly because if anyone had the right to talk about this it was Joey, but Lance had harbored these feelings for a long time. He was protective of them, and wanted to change the subject before Joey could ask him any questions like why or how long, or worse yet, please stop. “Did you hear that JC got punched by Gwen Stefani last night?” *** Around “Don’t do that again,” he warned when they were back on the road. “I mean it. You can’t just do that, Joe.” “I wanted to.” Lance snorted. He’d wanted to kiss Joey for years, and had never felt free to up and kiss him. “Nice. You don’t just kiss somebody who’s-“ he stopped, suddenly angry. “Who’s…what?” Joey asked quietly, but they both
knew the answer and Lance wasn’t going to say it again. “Why are you even here? I mean, don’t feel like you have to make anything up to me. I’m fine. It’s fine.” “How can you say it’s fine?” Joey asked loudly, and Lance didn’t know how he’d ever thought they’d heard the end of this. Joey loved to work through relationship problems. He liked to mediate for all of them, even if it sometimes meant pushing buttons and raising his voice. “What, you were just gonna stand up with me and Kel at the wedding and never mention that you’re in love with me?” It made Lance cringe to hear it thrown back at him, and he was glad for the darkness because his face was burning with this second dose of humiliation. “Yes,” he said tightly. “I can’t think of anything else I could’ve done.” “We postponed the wedding indefinitely a couple months
ago. In case you were
wondering.” “It doesn’t even matter,” Lance said, his eyes stinging with fatigue. “It’s too late.” *** “It’s not too late,” Joey said as soon as they walked into their hotel room. Lance still hadn’t put down his suitcase, so he made a chore of it, concentrating on the perfect arrangement of his bag on the dresser. His fingers walked carefully over the zipper while Joey looked at him, waiting. When Joey didn’t give up, Lance went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. He’d been an idiot to agree to this trip. Back in the car, the kiss had lasted only a second, but in that second his hand had already been lifting up toward Joey’s face. To touch the soft beard on the side of Joey’s jaw was one of his longest-running fantasies. It was a simple fantasy, maybe even a little lame, but with Joey he had never dared wish for more. That would be enough; his fingers, Joey’s face, and maybe Joey’s eyes would flutter shut because he liked Lance touching him, and maybe- Lance put an abrupt end to the fantasy and picked up a washcloth. Before he could put it under the water, Joey came up behind him and caught the washcloth, tugging gently. “Let go,” Lance sighed. He didn’t feel playful, and when he looked up and caught Joey’s eyes in the mirror, he saw that Joey wasn’t playing. From the stubborn set of his jaw, Lance was willing to bet that Joey wasn’t done with their conversation from the car. “I never knew,” he said, and Lance knew what Joey was
talking about but didn’t understand how he could wear that faint shadow of
a smile when the dread was twisted so tightly inside his own chest that he
was about to snap apart.
“Of course not. I’m the only one of us who’s ever been able to keep a secret.” Joey chuckled and brought his other hand up to rub good and hard on the back of Lance’s neck. “Yeah, you’ve got us there.” His fingers pushed into the tight muscles and then rubbed lightly, barely skimming the surface of Lance’s skin. “You’ve got me, too,” Joey whispered into his hair. It was against his better judgment, but Lance arched his neck backward until he finally felt the soft bristle of Joey’s beard against his own face. For that split second it felt almost like sex, the open intimacy of the act, and knowing that Joey could see his every reaction in the mirror, Lance pressed his waist against the counter to hide what Joey did to him. Before him, he watched the image of their bodies coming together in increments, Joey’s arms sliding around his waist, and he couldn’t look away from the way Joey’s mouth moved in, seeking his own. At the last second, he turned toward the kiss with an open mouth, turning in Joey’s arms at the same time, clinging the way he’d always promised himself he wouldn’t. Joey held him there against the counter while they kissed, pinning Lance with his body and showing him that there wasn’t anything he needed to hide that Joey didn’t share. It was incredible to be able to slide his tongue into Joey’s mouth and bite at his lips, knowing the kiss was probably too hard but not caring because he wanted it so badly he didn’t think he could do it any other way. Joey wasn’t complaining. He matched Lance kiss for kiss, and even slid a sweaty hand up underneath Lance’s shirt, tracing a line down the center of his back before slipping into the back of his jeans. “Joey-“ Lance gasped into his mouth. He didn’t know if it was okay, the way his hips moved restlessly against Joey’s. He didn’t know if any of it was okay or what he was even doing. He didn’t care. When Joey started moving them through the doorway and into the bedroom, Lance followed without breaking the kiss and let Joey pull him down onto the mattress. He settled onto Joey and threw a leg over Joey’s widespread thighs. “Did I really agree to a road trip?” he asked suddenly. A grin broke out on Joey’s face, but his hands didn’t stop their slow exploration of Lance’s body, one leisurely inch at a time. “Does it matter?” he asked, and he was looking at Lance’s mouth again. “No,” Lance mumbled, and let himself be kissed. |