after all this time

Lance had shown up at JC's house just before noon and had greeted JC with, "Bored. Wanna' do lunch?"

They went to Mel's, which Lance didn't love, but he wasn't going to complain. Not when JC had dropped whatever he'd been working on and gone with Lance without so much as a peep.

So, Lance endured Mel's and then JC dragging him through all of his favorite consignment shops, because it was a hell of a lot more entertaining to watch JC ohh and ahh over vintage clothing than it was to sit and wait for someone to call and tell him if the CW Network was going to pick up his and Joey's show.

Still, his altruism only went so far, and when dinner time rolled around Lance nixed JC's pick of sushi for Italian. He let JC choose the wine and then talk him into desert, and God help him, pick a movie for the evening at the video store.

They settled on the couch of JC's cozy family room, a bowl of popcorn between them, and it wasn't until halfway through the movie when JC quietly asked, "What?", that Lance realized he'd spent more time watching JC than the Corpse Bride.

He'd gotten caught up in how the light glinted in JC's hair, and the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. Lance knew that he'd seen these things a thousand times before, but he'd never really seen them, not until tonight. It was crazy, insane even, because this was JC, JC, but there it was. Lance wasn't stupid enough to hand back a gift once it'd been placed in his lap.

"Don't hate me, okay?" he asked, because if he'd taken a bigger risk in his life, Lance wasn't sure what it'd been. Still, he cupped JC's cheek, lifting his face up to his for the barest hint of a kiss.

JC sighed, and Lance felt his world tilt, then right again when just before their lips touched for the second time JC promised, "Okay."

The next morning, JC opened his eyes in time to watch Lance and his clothing sneak out his bedroom door. He supposed that he could say something and stop him, but really if Lance was having regrets, JC'd rather hear about them later than sooner.

It'd just been a thing; a, hey, I know you, you're safe and I've been kind of lonely thing, and he knew that, had known it going in, but he wouldn't lie to himself and say that he hadn't hoped for different, had, this time, wanted different.

Going back to sleep wasn't even a remote possibility with that train of thought going through his head, so JC tossed aside the covers and then rummaged through his dresser until he came up with a comfy pair of sweats. He tugged them on and then went out onto the balcony, because for all of his good talk about knowing how things were going to go, he couldn't make himself go down to the kitchen for coffee. Not when his last thought before going to sleep had been his hope that he'd be sharing it this morning with Lance.

He didn't grab one of the lounge chairs, but instead leaned against the railing to watch the morning unfold over the hills around him. It was earlier than he'd initially thought, and Lance must have been in a damn hurry to get away to have forced himself up and out before the sun had fully risen.

The morning air was chilly and JC wrapped his arms around his middle. He nearly jumped out of his skin when another set or arms joined his. "Mornin'." Lance's low voice rumbled against his ear. "Sorry if I scared you."

JC turned his head and stared wide-eyed at Lance. "I thought," he began, but Lance stopped him mid-sentence; he'd seen all he needed to know in JC's eyes.

"I'm not a hit and run kind of guy, JC," he said. "You know better."

"I did -- I do." Lance nearly smiled at how clearly flustered JC was by all this. "I opened my eyes and you were tiptoeing out, and -"

Lance nodded. "I have an early meeting, and I didn't want to wake you up, so I used the shower in the guestroom downstairs."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Lance smiled as he turned JC fully to him. "You're a moron, you know that?" he asked, and then took the sting out of his words with a soft, teasing kiss. He settled his hands on JC's hips, his thumbs gliding over the soft skin there. "So, I was thinking, I'm going to be tied up all day, but I should be able to get away by eight. Can I come over?"

JC nodded. "I'll be in the studio most of the day, but I should be done by then."

"Good." Lance kissed JC again, this time lingering over it. "I have to go," he sighed against JC's mouth. "I made coffee," he drew back, but not before brushing his mouth across JC's one final time. "Don't let it sit too long or it'll be gross."

JC followed him to the door. "Okay."

"See you tonight," Lance called over his shoulder, and then he was going, leaving behind a much happier JC than he'd found.

Lance brought pizza and a movie, JC supplied the wine, and they spent the evening critiquing Viggo Mortenson's acting, and sharing long looks across the couch. It was, in ways, very similar to other dates JC had been on, except for the part of the evening when he took a sip of wine and his mind went, whoa! Lance.

He thought he hid it well, until he looked up to find Lance smiling at him. "This is a little weird," he confessed, and Lance agreed, "Yeah. But not in a bad way, right?"

"No, not bad at all, I-" JC put a great deal of effort into picking a speck of lint off of his shirt. "I like it."

When he looked up, Lance was beside him. "Me, too."

"So, uhm, we're gonna," JC paused, because Lance's mouth, this close, was distracting. "What?"

"Hang, have dinner, go to parties." Lance finally stopped torturing JC and for the first time that night, kissed him. "Mmm," Lance tugged on JC's bottom lip. "Make love. Often. Very." Lance eased JC down into the corner of the couch. "Very often."

JC arched his hips and agreed, "I can get behind that."

That they would argue had been a given, they'd done it as friends, Lance had been all but certain that they'd do it as lovers, though he was a tad surprised that when it happened it was over - of all things - the last banana in the fruit bowl.

"You've had like five of them, JC, this one's mine."

JC grabbed for the fruit. "I haven't had any, because someone." He shot a pointed look at Lance. "Made a pig of himself over them."

"I haven't had one, JC, not one, and you know it. If anyone's the pig," Lance muttered under his breath. "It's you."

"I heard that." JC succeeded in getting the banana from Lance's hand, and promptly stuffed three quarters of it in his mouth. "And I am not a pig," he insisted, despite the bits of fruit flying from his mouth.

"You're not only a pig, you're an asshole." Lance's mug hit the counter with a solid thunk. "God, I can't believe that you just did that."

JC blinked at the vehemence in Lance's tone. "Lance, it was just a banana."

"It wasn't just a fucking banana, JC. It's." He flung his arms out, and sent the coffee carafe flying. "Everything; the way you steal all of the covers, and use all of the hot water when you shower. How you have to eat at the same freaking time every day, for every fucking meal. You drive me absolutely bat-shit crazy, JC, I swear." Lance glared at JC when he leaned back against the counter, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "If you laugh, so help me God, I'm going to punch you."

"Bus crazy."

Lance gaped at JC. "What?"

"You're bus crazy." JC grinned. "Remember when we all shared one bus, how sick we got sometimes of being together, and how we'd fight? Chris called it bus crazy."

"Let me get this straight, you do something completely aggravating, and because I get mad, I'm bus crazy?"

"It was a banana, Lance." Which apparently, to JC, said it all.

"Well, yeah, but -"

"We've been spending a lot of time together, hell, when was the last time either of us did anything with anyone else?" JC answered his own question before Lance could. "We haven't, aside from work. You need a JC break."

Lance felt his lips twitch. "There's such a thing?"

JC nodded, "There is now." He bent and picked up the carafe, and then tossed a handful of paper towels over the dark brown puddle spreading across the floor. "You need to call Joey, or something. Go out, get drunk; whatever. Just." JC waved him towards the door. "Something, before you try and kill me in my sleep over the last jelly bean in the candy bowl."

"Funny."

"Hey, I try." JC touched his lips to Lance's forehead. "Seriously, call Joey, go and see Bri before she forgets what her favorite uncle looks like. I'll still be here when you're done."

Lance nuzzled against JC's neck. "Even though I'm an ass who overreacts over the last banana?"

"Even though."

Lance hooked his hands at the small of JC's back. "I guess this was our first fight, huh?"

"More like a tiff, but yeah."

"A tiff?" Lance shook his head. "Where do you come up with these things?"

"My mom used to say that all the time when Heather and I would go at it. It's more than a squabble, less than a fight."

"Uh huh." There was a napkin sitting on the counter and Lance used it to swipe the banana off of JC's chin. "You really are a pig," he murmured. "But I think I'll hold on to you anyway."

"Call Joey, take a night off. We'll hook up tomorrow night, maybe catch a Lakers game?"

"That sounds good. Maybe you should call Justin, see if he wants to go?"

JC shook his head, "He's out of town until next week, but I can call Chris. He was haunting me at the studio yesterday, so I know he's around."

"Sounds good." The remnants of the fruit they'd fought over flavored their parting kiss. "Will you be around tonight? Want me to call when I'm done at Joe's?"

"Nah, I'm good. I'm going to lock myself in the studio until this damn song comes out the way I want it to, and then I'm going to crash, which probably won't be until some time long after you're already in bed."

"Don't drive yourself crazy," Lance advised, and then grinned. "Wait, I'm forgetting who I'm talking to."

JC pushed Lance towards the back door. "Get, you smartass. Tell Joey and his crew I said hi."

"Will do." They shared a final kiss before Lance departed, tossing over his shoulder, "Try not to miss me too much," as he did.

He was around the corner and out of sight before JC stopped chuckling long enough to grumble again, "Smartass." ***

Joey made it all the way through dinner before bringing up the subject of JC, which amazed Lance, because patience and subtlety, really not Joey's thing. He figured that it had more to do with Kelly laying down the law, and Bri chattering fifty words a minute, than with Joey turning over a new leaf, but either way, he'd known going in that he wasn't going to escape the evening without a Fatone grilling.

"So, you and JC."

Lance smiled into his wine, because if Kelly hadn't put a bug in Joey's ear before he'd gotten there, he'd hand the contents of his bank account over to the first person he ran into when he left here. "Yup, me and JC." Lance leaned back in his chair and took a sip from his glass. There really wasn't a reason he could think of why he shouldn't have a little fun at Joey's expense.

Joey lasted all of five seconds before he was demanding, "And?"

Over the years Lance had mastered the art of being coy; there were few who did it better. "I'm sorry, Joe. And, what?"

"Don't fuck with me, Bass. You know damn well what. You, and our friend and former band-mate, JC Chasez. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Some of Lance's good humor faded with Joey's attitude. "We're dating." He shot Joey a look. "And having really great sex. Anything else you'd like to know…Dad."

"I knew it." Joey shoved his chair back and paced. "I fucking knew it. You've gone and done it again."

"Done what?" Lance was completely lost.

"Fallen for some guy who's going to rip your heart on, toss it on the floor, and dance a Tango on it."

Lance gaped at his friend. "What?"

"You heard me."

Lance still didn't get it. "We are talking about the same person, right? Short brown hair, blue eyes," Lance was thinking gorgeous, but he didn't dare say it, not with the mood Joey was in. "Stands about this-"

"Tall," Joey finished for him, holding his hand at ear level. "I know exactly who we're talking about, Mr. Love 'em and Leave 'em Chasez. I shared a bus with him once upon a time, too, remember?"

"I thought I did, but apparently I was living on some other planet, because that JC, I don't remember."

"Oh, c'mon, Lance. He was the group's, 'different somebody of the week', guy."

"Says the, 'different blonde at every venue', boy."

"Lance," Joey hissed, shooting a nervous glance at the kitchen door.

"You're the one who started the conversation, Joey. I'm just finishing it by pointing out just how fucking big of a hypocrite you are."

"Hey," Joey protested. "You're my best friend, I love you. I don't want to see you hurt."

"Are you still like that, Joey?"

"That's entirely beside the point."

"No, it's not. Are you?"

"You know I'm not. I love Kelly, you know that. We have something really good here, I'm not going to fuck that up."

"And so what, it's so hard for you to believe that someone, that JC, might actually feel the same about me."

"That's not what I said."

"Wasn't it?" Lance rose and placed his glass and napkin on the table. "Tell Kelly I said thanks for dinner."

"But." Joey followed Lance to the door. "What am I going to tell her when she wants to know why you left?"

"You're so smart, Joey. I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Lance steamed all the way home, even more so after he called Chris to tell him what an asshole Joey'd been, and all he'd gotten was, "Well, it is JC, he's kind of got a point."

Was he missing something here? Because honestly, he'd never noticed JC going through that many guys in the time they'd shared buses and hotel rooms.

He called Justin, because he really couldn't believe that he was the only one who didn't remember JC that way - he was wrong.

"You're just looking at things through rose colored glasses, my friend." Justin wasted no time in informing him. "Which is fine, because you and JC, that's a really good thing; just don't forget to take them off from time to time and remember that he's human. He used to do stupid shit, sometimes he still does; Joey's just worried because you have a tendency to lose sight of stuff like that."

"I'm not stupid, Justin."

"Nope, you're not, and personally, I don't think Joey has anything to worry about. But I've talked to JC, and Joey hasn't. This time is different, give Joey time, he'll catch on to that."

Lance was somewhat appeased by his conversation with Justin. Still, instead of taking the exit towards home, he went in the direction of the studio where he knew JC was working. There was a question he needed an answer to.

He talked his way through security, mainly because the guard recognized him, and found JC in the control room, alone, and talking to himself."

"Just how many people have you slept with, anyway?" Lance asked in way of greeting.

JC yelped, and Lance might have felt bad for that had a man not materialized from the dark corner of the room wearing a sheepish grin. Apparently, JC hadn't been talking to himself after all.

"I'll just be, ah, going." He flipped a switch at the door, and the corner from which he'd come flooded with light. "It was just a short in the outlet," he assured JC. "You should be all set now."

Apparently, JC could read minds, because no sooner had the stranger left, he turned on Lance. "And just what, exactly, did you think he was doing in here," he demanded.

"It's all Joey's fault," Lance insisted. "He put all these ideas in my head, and then Chris said-" Lance caught the look on JC's face and faltered.

"Obviously, we've gone beyond bus crazy and straight into insanity." JC moved past him and into the booth. Lance gave himself a minute to figure out how he was going to get himself out of this one before he followed.

"So, are you going to answer my question?" He asked, because really now was not the time to mess with the theory that the best defense is a good offense.

"Sure," JC patted the stool next to him. "Have a seat, we'll compare notes." At Lance's look of absolute horror, JC grinned. "I have to tell you, Lance, that deer caught in the headlights look is not a good one for you."

"I'm not. I didn't."

"Sit," JC ordered, and for once, Lance listened without debate. "First, let me say that Joey called, and he said to tell you that he's the world's biggest asshole, and that he's sorry. Second, I will confess to completely agreeing with him, especially after he told me what all happened, and third, I will cop to being a bit of a, what did you call it that first morning, a hit and run type of guy once upon a time, but this is different, and you should know better."

"Shit." Lance scrubbed his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"I'd say we're even." JC shrugged at Lance's puzzled frown. "I thought it about you that first morning, today was your turn, but," JC caught Lance's chin in his hand. "The stupidity stops here, okay?"

Lance was in no way, shape, or form going to disagree.

They stopped to get Chinese on their way back to JC's house, and it was only when he was pushing cartons into the trash did Lance think to ask, "So, how did the song go? The one you said this morning was giving you so much trouble."

"You mean and actually have something productive happen in the studio for a change? Yeah, right.

"Went that well, did it?" Lance laughed. "Did you bring it home, maybe if I listen to it, I'll hear what you're missing?

"I have a disc with me, yeah, but-"

"C'mon." Lance pulled JC up. "Show me."

JC's in house studio was small, but it was one of the best equipped that Lance had seen. He took one of the two deep chairs at the console and waited quietly while JC queued up the song.

He listened straight through without a word, and the signaled for JC to play it again. He nearly laughed at JC's impatient huff, but the song began again, and Lance closed his eyes and started to hum along.

"Well, fuck, that's it." JC grabbed Lance by the shoulder. "You have to come in here," he insisted, tugging Lance in the direction of the small recording booth.

"JC, what?"

"You have to sing, kind of like what you were doing out there, but more. Right where you were before, in that same exact part."

"But."

"No, no buts." JC spread his hands over Lance's chest. He'd left the disc running, and though it was impossible for him to record Lance's vocals while in the booth with him, he rested his chin on Lance's shoulder and asked, "Sing it for me, Lance." He kissed the side of Lance's neck. "Please."

There was no way that Lance could resist JC when he was like this, but there was something he needed to know first. "Why is now different?"

"It's kind of like the song." JC looked up into Lance's eyes. "It needed the right person, and so did I."