lance

Biking part 2

still untitled, JC/Lance
part one is here


They don't go very far, just to a little ice cream shop near Lance's house, which Lance only agrees to because once JC had seen it he wouldn't take no for an answer. He frowned a little and pleaded with wide blue eyes and Lance just couldn't resist. JC was just too adorable for his own good sometimes.

So he had sighed and looked away and stopped pedalling, letting his bike slow until he was close enough to stop and get off.

They park the bikes near a bench on the side of the building and JC digs into the little pouch secured under his seat to produce his wallet. He grins irresistabley at Lance's exasperated face.

"My treat," he says. He pulls out a crinkled ten dollar bill and shoves the wallet back where he got it from. "What do you want?"

Lance shakes his head. "I'm not hungry."

"You don't have to be hungry for ice cream!"

JC sounds almost insulted that Lance would think that, so Lance sighs and drops down onto the bench. JC had offered to pay, a rare occurence, Lance knew, and it sounded so good...

"A small banana split, then."

JC grins happily and rushes toward the line, almost as if he's afraid Lance will change his mind again. "Be right back."

There are two groups of people in front of JC. At the front of the line are two women and a man, all approximately in their twenties. One of the women is already holding a dish of ice cream, and as Lance watches she dips her spoon leisurely into the cup and brings it to her mouth. The man's arm is resting around her waist and Lance watches it fall as the couple laughs at something their friend is saying. The other woman, the single one, turns and takes her ice cream and the group steps out of the line.

Lance tilts his head as he observes the next customers. There is a woman, a girl really, she can't possibly be over twenty years old, if that, pregnant and with a small blond child standing beside her. They're alone at the stand and Lance hopes she has someone to go home to. He watches the little boy glance shyly at JC, who smiles and gives a little wave. The boy ducks his little blond head and reaches for his mom's hand. JC laughs a little, then looks up and catches Lance's eye.

They're both grinning like idiots, Lance knows, but it's so rare that they have a chance to witness these things that they can't help it. He thinks they should probably be worried about someone recognizing them, but they're both wearing hats and glasses and JC seems pretty relaxed, so Lance just leans back, lets his eyes slip closed, and taps his fingers on his knee as he waits. He likes times like these, when it's just him and JC, relaxed, having fun, and doing something he can pretend is a date. He smiles a little at that thought, the corners of his mouth quirking just a little, and wishes, not for the first time, that JC is pretending the same thing.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Lance opens his eyes, then rolls them at JC. JC says things like that all the time, and while it was annoying at first, it's actually kind of endearing now. Lance catches himself on the brink of saying it several times a day, bites his lip to hold it back because it's pathetic to start talking like JC just to because of some silly little crush. A crush, that's all it is, that's what he tells himself every day.

He looks at the huge dish of ice cream JC is holding out toward him and raises an eyebrow. "That is not a small."

JC shrugs and places the dish into Lance's hands. "You deserve a treat," he says as he joins Lance on the bench, his left hand carefully holding a very large butterscotch sundae.He sits sideways, one leg tucked up under his body, both knees pressing against the side of Lance's leg.

JC has no concept of personal space what-so-ever, but Lance likes him that way, so he makes sure to keep the contact when he sits up a little to eat. He takes a bite and turns to smile at JC. "Thanks."

JC reaches out and wipes at the corner of Lance's mouth with his thumb. When he pulls it back there's a small bit of strawberry topping smeared across the skin and he pops it into his mouth to lick it away. Lance turns away, taking another bite of ice cream and trying to clear the thoughts in his head.

JC is silent for a while, he's busy enjoying his treat, but then he shifts a little and says, "We should do this more often."

Lance raises an eyebrow as he turns back to look at JC, happy and grinning as he scoops up another mouthful of vanilla and butterscotch. "Stuff ourselves with all this fattening junk?"

JC laughs and reaches out to touch Lance's arm. "You're so over-dramatic. When's the last time you had dessert?" Lance just shrugs, so he continues. "I meant, like, the bikes. Riding. It's fun. I like being with you. Hanging out." He frowns down into his ice cream for a second. "Plus, I don't have a girlfriend taking up all my time now."

Lance doesn't like the tone of JC's voice. JC really doesn't like being alone, doesn't like not having someone, and it's not that he even likes people so much, or talking, but just being around someone, touching, sharing space. Lance smiles a little and says, "We should make it, like, a weekly thing. Biking. I bet there are some trails around here and everything."

JC looks up and that grin is back in place. "Yeah?"

Lance's smile grows and he ducks his head a little, looking down into his dish. "I'll check it out. We can go next Tuesday."
cute jc

Foolish Beat

Goodnight
(Justin's POV)


You know something's off with JC tonight, he hasn't stopped touching you since you left Chris' room, but you don't really mind so you don't ask what's going on. Right now you're both in the bathroom brushing your teeth, and while you usually wander around the room and strip down to your boxers and tank top for bed you stay still, because JC's left hand is slowly rubbing the skin of your lower back, a back and forth steady pressure that's really quite calming. You love it when he expresses his feelings this way, with caresses and little kisses to your temple or that spot behind your ear. You'd kind of like to know what you did to bring this on, so you can make sure you do it a lot, but if you asked, knowing JC, he'd probably wax poetic about the walls and the lighting and the pretty hotel paintings and tons of other unrelated crap until you dropped the subject.

He finally lets you go so he can rinse out his mouth, so you mimic his movements and let your free hand slip under his shirt to trail across the soft skin there. He jumps a little, not expecting the touch, but he doesn't push you away so you keep your hand there until he stands up straight and turns around. Your hand is splayed across his stomach now and you feel the muscles ripple as he leans forward to kiss the left side of your neck. You lean into the touch and start to slip your hand around his waist, because JC never kisses your neck, or anywhere lower than that, and you definitely want to take advantage of the moment, but he pulls away and slips out of the bathroom before you can stop him.

You rinse out your mouth and put your toothbrush away as quickly as you can, because you know if JC's already in bed when you get into the room he'll just tell you goodnight and go to sleep, and you would really like some more touching, or at least a kiss goodnight. JC is ridiculous about this four and a half year age difference, and you tell him that every day, but he never seems to listen. He won't let you even sit on the edge of his bed when he's about to sleep, let alone lie down with him, and you really don't understand what the big deal is about sleeping in the same bed.

You step out into the room just in time to see JC tying his pajama pants and you hesitate for a moment because that's all he's wearing. No t-shirt, no tank top, and you see his grey boxer-briefs on the floor with his other clothes so you know there's nothing under those pants. You sigh a little, even though you try to hold it back, because if JC was a girl your age you know you'd be getting those pants off tonight as well. You hope JC didn't hear you, and you don't think he did because he continues getting ready for bed, and you cross the room to undress yourself. Your long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans end up in a tangled knot next to your suitcase and you toss your socks in that direction too, then turn to see where JC is. You don't even try to hold back the sigh this time, because he's already in bed, sitting against the headboard and squinting at the same book he's had since the flight over here. You're pretty sure he's still on the same page because you know there hasn't been any time for him to read it.

JC looks up from the book at the small, pathetic noise that escapes your lips and gives you an apologetic smile, then sets the book on the nightstand and holds out a hand. "C'mere, Justin."

You feel your lips curving into a pout, and you try to stop it, really, you do, but you can't help it, it's a natural thing, and you don't really wonder why JC won't even kiss you in the bedroom because you feel like the biggest baby in the world as you walk toward him. He does this sometimes too, pulls you down so he can kiss your cheek, and then ruffles your hair, tells you goodnight, and snuggles down under the covers. It's just not fair to be so close to him and not get anything at all.

"God, Justin, it's not the end of the world. Knock it off," JC says with a small chuckle. You pout even more, because you hate it when he laughs at you, but he just smiles even wider and reaches out to tug on your hand until you're standing right next to the bed. You lean down a little, but instead of kissing your cheek like you expected, JC kisses you right on the lips, then pulls back and says, "Do you want to sit with me for a bit?"

You open your mouth to say yes, yes, of course you do, but what comes out instead is a soft, "I'm really tired, Jayce."

JC looks a little surprised, but he pulls you down until you're sitting, facing him on the bed, and says, "Well, we can lay down if you want." He leans over to kiss you again, and you're shocked that the next words out of his mouth are, "You can sleep over here tonight."

You curl yourself against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist, and ask in a very soft voice, "Is everything okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean. What..." You trail off and squeeze him a little tighter before continuing. "Are you breaking up with me or something? Is this your way of trying to let me down easy? Being so nice and doing all this stuff and then tomorrow it's over? Cause this is-"

"Justin. Hey," he says in a quiet but confused voice. He makes you pull away until he can see your face, but you don't meet his eyes, you focus on your hand, resting against his well-defined abs, in the same spot it was before, in the bathroom, when JC leaned in to kiss your neck. "Hey, look at me. J."

You try to pull away completely because you want to make it to the bathroom before you do something completely embarrassing, like start to cry or something, but JC tightens his grip on your arm and reaches up his other hand to lift your chin until you're looking into his eyes.

"I'm not breaking up with you, Justin. I promise. Not for a long, long, long, long time. Okay?" You nod a little, because you know that's what he wants, for you to acknowledge that you're listening, to let him know you believe him. You're not sure if you really do, but it's what he wants, so you nod in agreement. "Justin, I'm trying here, okay? I'm really. I want this to work. And I'm just. I'm trying to be okay with this."

"Jayce-" You start to argue with him, you open your mouth to say all the things you usually say, because this isn't the first time you've had this discussion, but JC places a finger against your lips.

"Shh. Justin. Come here." He pulls you into his arms then, into his lap, and you rest your head against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your torso and he lightly kisses your lips again. "I... Justin. You're not even sixteen years old yet. That. I know it doesn't bother you, but it really, I really don't like that. It's a really big difference, and it might not seem like it to you, but it is. And I'm trying to be okay with that, I want to be okay with that. With you. Tonight, this, this is me trying, okay?"

"Okay." You sigh again and wrap your arms around his waist and realize that, yeah, you are pretty tired, and you should probably get some sleep, so you crawl over JC and curl up under the covers.

JC turns off the light and then follows your lead, lying on his side and draping one arm across your waist. He kisses your lips and whispers, "Goodnight, Justin."
bassez

JC/Lance

I had this idea a long, long time ago, and I just found the two paragraphs I had written to start it, so I decided to finish it up. This is part one.

It's untitled as of now, but it's JC and Lance. Bike riding.


There are moments when JC really hates living so close to Joey. Like when he pulls his bicycle out of the garage, cleans off the cobwebs and dust, and wheels it into the front yard.

The bike is very new, but he bought it at this fancy bicycle shop so it looks old-fashioned, like somebody kept it over the years and restored it. It was pretty expensive, and he didn't really want to spend that much money on a bicycle he wasn't going to use very often, but the guy at the shop assured him that it was worth it, the bike was actually better than most of the much more costly mountain bikes, and would certainly last longer. JC just mostly wanted the guy to shut up, so he bought it, the only dark maroon model in the shop, the rest were green and gray and brown, and loaded it into his Jeep and brought it home.

Almost exactly a year later he pulls it out and rides it for the first time.

Joey is just coming home from taking Brianna to the doctor, and when he sees JC step into his front yard with the bike, he laughs. Which is exactly why JC just waves a little and doesn't bother inviting Joey to go with him.

Justin and Chris are both out of town; Justin's back home in Tennessee, visiting his family and Chris is in New York for Fumanskeeto business. He doesn't really think he would have invited either of them anyway, just Joey because he lives so close, or Lance because... Well, just because.

He's not even sure if Lance is home at first because when he knocks on the door, Lance doesn't answer right away. He knocks again, just in case Lance was in the bathroom the first time, and Lance answers, wearing just a pair of sweats and holding the phone up to his right ear. He steps back and motions for JC to come inside as he continues talking. JC glances over his shoulder at his bike on the front walk. He decides it's a safe enough neighborhood, Lance has never talked about any robberies or break-ins or anything, so he leaves it there and follows Lance inside. He locks the door behind him, because the plan goes like this: 1. get Lance off the phone, 2. get him into some clothes, and 3. pull him out the back way and into the garage to drag out his fancy, expensive, not-as-good-as-JC's bicycle.

The plan doesn't exactly work out like that. In fact, it's not like that at all. JC finally gets tired of waiting for Lance to stop talking and heads back toward the front of the house. He peeks out the window to see that, yes, his bike is still there, and, no, nobody is tampering with it. JC sighs in relief and heads for the stairs.

He knows that Lance doesn't let just anybody wander around his house, Chris and Justin usually end up breaking things and Joey's always exclaiming loudly about things he's supposedly found in Lance's bedroom. Even when nobody else is there, Lance is still completely embarrassed by the "fucking 12-inch dildo, Lance! I never new you were such a size queen!", and it's gotten to the point that Lance will practically tie Joey to a kitchen chair the second he walks in the door.

JC, however, is very respectful of others' belongings, and always has free reign of the house. That usually means he'll go find a bedroom to crash in until Lance finishes with whatever business he's doing that day, but today JC is on a mission. He peeks out a window in the front spare bedroom to check on his bike once more, then makes his way into Lance's room and starts sorting through the dresser. He pulls out a clean pair of white boxer-briefs, a pair of black track pants, a white undershirt, and one of Lance's workout t-shirts, the yellow one because it's Lance's favorite. He sets them all out on the end of Lance's bed, then goes back downstairs to get Lance.

Lance is still on the phone, in the kitchen cleaning up what looks to be the remains of his lunch. JC puts the peanut butter back in the cupboard and rinses off the knife Lance used to spread it while Lance throws the paper plate and banana skins in the garbage. Lance opens the refridgerator and offers JC a bottle of water, which he takes gratefully, then pulls one out for himself. Once he's taken a drink and goes back to talking on the phone, a bunch of business mumbo-jumbo that JC doesn't even want to understand, JC grabs his arm and tugs him toward the stairs.

Lance follows willingly, not really paying attention to what JC's doing at all until they're in Lance's room and JC starts to tug down his pants. Lance's hand clasps around JC's wrist and pulls his hand away as he says into the phone, "All right, we'll finish discussing it tomorrow," and hangs up. He tosses the phone onto the bed and looks at JC. "What are you doing?"

JC motions to the bed with his free hand. "Clothes."

Lance raises an eyebrow. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Yes." JC nods as he starts bouncing on the balls of his feet and claps his hands excitedly. "Get dressed."
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pixie sticks

Raquetball

Part 1 of what I'm dubbing "the raquetball fic" for now
Eventually Justin/Chris

It started out as an idea Chris had. They know that because there sure as hell was never a time in his life that Justin actually wanted to play raquetball, and now they know that there never will be either. Hurts like a bitch when you get drilled with that ball, and aside from that, it's the one sport that Justin can't play worth shit. Well, that and tennis, for obvious reasons.

He remembers thinking it would be easy, a piece of cake, no big deal to a guy as athletic and in-shape as himself. He was excited at the thought of doing something new, and something with Chris, something that none of the other guys were going to do, and with Chris, and he was sure he would enjoy it.

And then he tried to play.

Tried being the key word in that sentence. They came back from the court just in time to climb onto the bus, which they were only really sharing with JC, but Joey and Lance were there too, and they all flinched when Justin threw his raquet against the wall.

"Dude, Chris just bought that!" Joey exclaimed. "Don't ruin it already."

"Shhh, Joe," Chris tried, but it was too late and it took Lance and JC and Chris all to hold Justin back as he cursed and swung his arms and flailed about for a good ten minutes until he finally calmed down.

Once he had finally gone to his bunk, Joey had turned to Chris with wide eyes. Chris shook his head slightly, gathering up the raquets and his glove and the raquetballs and starting toward the back of the bus. Once he was sure Justin was asleep and not just back in his bunk swearing at the walls and punching his pillow, Chris went back into the kitchen area of the bus and sat at the table.

"What the fuck happened, Chris?" Joey asked softly, not wanting to stir up Justin's anger any more than it already had been.

Chris shrugged. "He lost. Like, umm, maybe 21 to nothing." The last part of the sentence was mumbled so low that he had to repeat it. "Well, we, I taught him how to play first, like, the rules and stuff. And we warmed up a bit. Then when we got to the game... I beat him. He had no points."

Lance smirked. "Guess he didn't like that much, huh?"
pixie sticks

Foolish Beat

The Justin/JC Bobbie/Britney WIP now has a name: Foolish Beat. I'm working out a layout for my site so I can get it up when I finish the design. Anyway, here's more.

Foolish Pride
(Brit's POV)

Your mama had always been proud of you. That wasn't something that most people under the age of twenty-one could say, you knew that, and you always tried your hardest to show you really were worthy of her praise and attention.

You knew you had disappointed her the second you realized you were pregnant. You didn't know how to tell her, especially since you had to do it alone. Justin had been there when you told her you were gay and Bobbie had been there when you told her you were in love, and neither of them had talked to you since you told them you were carrying Justin's baby.

You'd seen your mother several times since then, but you still didn't have the courage to tell her. You knew you couldn't do it over the phone, you wouldn't let yourself take the easy way out when you knew you were responsible for three broken hearts, not to mention yours and what you were about to cause your family, and imagining the look on her face was hard enough, you didn't really want to see it.

You still didn't know what to do, didn't have a clue. You weren't the sharpest knife in the drawer, you always knew that, and you'd always had other people telling you what to do, so this was really the first time you had to make a decision on your own. You didn't want an abortion, you thought that would be worse than any other option you had, but you knew you couldn't have a baby. You weren't ready, you knew you weren't mature enough to take care of yourself, let alone another living, breathing human being, not to mention the media storm you'd have to endure after years of being a self-proclaimed virgin. You'd have to live your life raising your child, your constant reminder of a mistake you already couldn't forget, and you were pretty sure you couldn't handle that.

You thought Bobbie would be the hardest person to tell, but once you told her you changed your mind. So you told Justin, and then you realized that that wasn't that hard either. You heard from Lance that Justin told JC and you were afraid to ask how he took it so you said you had to go. You knew that was harder for Justin than it had been for you so far, so you picked up your room key and you went next door.
brit

Brit/Bobbie Justin/JC WIP

Since I'm writing this new fic in little snippets like the last one I posted, I'm just going to post them as I write. Eventually they'll all be put together and put up on my site, I'm not sure exactly how, but for now I'm just going to post little bits when I finish them.

Gap
(Bobbie's POV)

JC calls you three weeks after Britney tells you. You figured it would be longer because you knew Justin wouldn't tell him right when he found out and you thought it would take Britney at least that long to work up the nerve to tell him.

"How are you doing, hon?" JC asks, and you can tell it's not just an every day call.

"She told Justin, huh?" you ask softly.

You curl up on your sofa, the one Britney helped you pick out a year ago, and you wrap your free arm around a throw pillow from the matching set she gave you on your eighteen month anniversary. You start crying before you even hear JC's response and you apologize before hanging up and going back to your room. Everything there reminds you of Britney too, everything in the apartment does, as a matter of fact, and you've spent every day for a month out of the house, and every night crying yourself to sleep. You can't remember the reason you broke up this time, but you know what's keeping you apart, and you know there's a gap between you now that will never be closed.