This chapter follows on the last one, and continues in the same sort of non-melodramatic vein, i.e., not a lot happens, and it's mostly dialogue. For those who find this boring, I apologize. Most relationships (I think) are made mostly of talk, and I'm trying to depict that, while also trying to show how JC and Lance's relationship is becoming, and has become, more mature. (I mean, hey, I didn't put the boys through hell for nothing.) So, anyway, that's the theme of this chapter, getting older, and maybe wiser, about the things of the heart, and being grateful for it too, and humble. I hope someone likes it. And for those who didn't, the next chapter will move back towards more "stuff" happening, and thus will be more "dramatic" in the conventional sense. I just didn't want to do drama for drama's sake, this time. The email address is the same, denis141@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: I don't know any member of NSYNC, and this story, well, I made the whole damn thing up. Yeah, and one more thing, this story has male-male sex in it (sometimes), so, if that's not your thing, or if you aren't old enough, you should stop reading now.
CHAPTER 18: The Gift of a Grateful Heart.
But we are older,
I to love
and you to be loved,
we have,
no matter how,
by our wills survived
to keep
the jeweled prize
always
at our finger tips.
We will it so
and so it is
past all accident.
-- William Carlos Williams, The Ivy Crown (From A Journey to Love, 1955)
"Are those pants suede?" Lance said, standing up from having just tied his shoes.
"Uh-huh," JC said, smiling and tucking in the black, long-sleeve sweater he'd just pulled on, and then buckling his belt. "You like?"
"I like what's in them," Lance said.
JC laughed and walked into the bathroom.
"I just have to do battle with my hair, and then I'll be ready."
"That's fine," Lance said, sticking his head in the bathroom, and smiling at JC. "I think we're actually ahead of schedule."
"No way," JC said, opening his eyes wide in mock surprise. "That's a first."
"Tell me," Lance said, laughing.
"Do you think this sweater's too much?" JC asked, turning to look at Lance.
"I didn't think it would be, you know, so see-through."
"Didn't you try it on first?" Lance said, watching as JC ran pomade-slick fingers through his hair. "Before you bought it?"
"No," JC said, shrugging. "I hate to try things on at the store."
"I know," Lance said. "It is kind of revealing, but not in a bad way. Besides, you'll have your jacket on most of the time, so it'll be fine."
Lance walked over to where JC was still working on his hair, and kissed the side of his neck, and rubbed his hand up and down his back.
"That feels good," JC said, leaning his head back and kissing Lance.
"Is that my cologne you're wearing?" Lance asked, kissing JC's neck again, and continuing to rub his back.
"Uh-huh," JC said. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all."
JC rinsed the remnants of the pomade from his hands and then dried them on one of the several fat white towels piled next to the sink.
"How do I look?" JC asked, taking a step back and turning around.
"Better than someone with a three year old has any right to, I'd say."
"Oh, shut up," JC said, punching Lance softly in the shoulder and walking past him into the bedroom. "It's not like I was pregnant or gave birth or anything."
"Hey, so how about you and me grabbing a drink downstairs before the limo gets here?" Lance said, following JC into the bedroom and then sitting on the edge of the bed.
"That'd be nice. What time is it?"
"Just past four," Lance said, looking at his watching and then back up at JC. "The limo doesn't get here until five, so we have time."
"Okay," JC said, slipping his jacket on. "But let's call and check on Aaron first, and tell him good-night."
"Wait a second," Lance said, pulling JC toward him, and then slipping his arms up under JC's jacket and around behind his back.
"Yes?" JC said, resting his chin on Lance's chin, and looking into his eyes.
"I just wanted to tell you how much I love you. And appreciate you."
"Thank you," JC said, almost shyly.
"You're welcome."
"We're almost there," JC whispered, not wanting to startle Lance in case he had fallen asleep during the drive to the theater.
"Okay," Lance said, opening his eyes.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," Lance said, turning to smile at JC. "And you?"
"A little nervous. But I'll be okay."
"You'll be great."
"If you say so."
"I do."
Lance felt the limousine slow to a stop. He could hear the clamor of the crowd just outside the door and knew it would swing open in another ten seconds or so. Taking a long slow deep breath, Lance turned toward the door so that he was ready to step forward out of the limousine, rather than sliding sideways off the seat, which had always seemed clumsy, and made him feel unsteady as he stood up.
"Here are your sunglasses," JC said, handing them to Lance.
"Thanks," Lance said.
JC watched as the door swung open and the inside of the limousine was flooded with sunshine and the sound of people shouting Lance's name. It had been awhile since he'd been in a situation like this, in public, with Lance, surrounded by screaming fans and the press, on stage, and expected to smile and wave. Slipping his own sunglasses on, JC climbed out limousine, gripping the edges of the door frame and pulling himself up as if out of a hole. Lance was waiting for him beside the door, and as JC straightened himself and stood next to him, he felt Lance take his hand, and he was stunned by it.
"Come on," Lance said, squeezing JC's hand, as if wanting to make sure that it could not slip away from him. "Let's go."
JC followed Lance down the red carpet, smiling, and now squeezing Lance's hand hard too, squeezing it as if to say, "Don't worry. I won't let go."
"I thought Steve going to freak when he saw us holding hands," JC said.
"Soderbergh?"
"No, your manager."
"Oh. Yeah," Lance said, swirling the wine in his glass and then taking a sip of it. "He was pretty cool about it though. Eventually."
"Yeah, like after his fifth rum and coke."
Lance laughed and reached across the table and laid his fingertips on JC's arm, each one in turn, as if he was playing five notes on a piano. JC was sitting with his back to the wall, and the candle on the table cast a flickering silhouette of him sitting there, his shoulders softly slumped, his head held at the slightest of angles, and his eyes wide open, and nearly unblinking, as if in surprise. He enjoyed the feel of Lance's fingertips on his arm, the slight pressure, and the warmth.
"Are you tired?" Lance asked, rubbing JC's arm now and causing goose-bumps to rise up like Braille dots on soft pale paper.
"Not really," JC said, after having paused for a moment to think about it. "I guess I should be. But I'm not."
"Me either," Lance said.
"I really liked the film," JC said, taking a sip of wine.
"You always say that."
"No. I mean it. But it was nothing like I expected it to be."
"How do you mean?" Lance asked, putting his elbows on the table and then resting his chin in his upturned hands.
"I don't know exactly. I've seen the original like six or seven times, and so I guess I expected that it would be suspenseful, and sort of romantic too. Like the original."
"But it wasn't"
"No. This one was...I don't know, it was dark, and almost mean. Your character, Devlin, seemed so angry, like you hated her...what's her name?"
"Alicia Huberman."
"Yeah, her. It was like you hated the fact that she was attracted to you, and maybe in love with you. And you hated yourself too, for wanting her, like you knew that wanting her was a dangerous mistake you couldn't stop yourself from making."
"You think?" Lance said, lifting his head up from where it had rested in his hands. "You really think so?"
"I do. And that one scene, where you know she wants you to kiss her, and she's taunting you. What does she say? Something like, 'It makes you sick all over, doesn't it? People will laugh at you. The invincible Devlin, in love with someone who isn't worth even wasting the words on. Poor Dev, in love with a no-good gal. It must be awful.' It's such a great line."
"It is," Lance said, quietly.
"But my God, what was so intense was how Soderbergh kept the camera on you the whole time, just showing your face, and that look on it as she spit those words at you, until you finally kiss her, like you're just trying to shut her up, because you know if she doesn't shut up you'll probably kill her."
"Not like Cary Grant, huh?" Lance said.
"It sure as hell wasn't."
"We shot that scene a bunch of times," Lance said, closing his eyes for a moment, as if to better remember it, and then cringing when he did. "Soderbergh shot it from every angle you can imagine. It took hours and hours, and I remember being so pissed at how long it was taking, and wanting to just run away. So maybe some of that came through."
"No," JC said. "There was more to it than that. Because, right after the kiss, you get this look of total disgust on your face. Not like you're disgusted with her, but like you're disgusted with yourself...for being so weak, and for giving in to her."
Lance laughed nervously, and reached for JC's hand, and held it.
"Let's not talk about this anymore," Lance said, quietly. "Okay?"
"Okay," JC said. "If you don't want to."
"It's not that Josh. I don't know, it's just that making that movie...it was hard for me. I didn't want to do it, and I tried to get out of it, but I couldn't. So I just played him exactly like I felt, as a guy who'd lost...or betrayed, the only person who'd ever mattered to him, as a guy who didn't care about anything, or anyone, anymore, not even himself."
"I was wondering about that," JC said, softly. "I mean, even with the first one, in Hitchcock's version, you never know where Devlin came from, what his background is, or why he's so bitter. He just sort of shows up. But, you could still tell that he had a past, that he had baggage, you just never know what it is."
"Well, there you have it," Lance said, trying to sound less serious about it than he actually felt. "It was dream casting then, because I had baggage galore."
"That's not funny, Lance."
"I know. But it's true."
"Yeah," JC said, averting his eyes from Lance's gaze, but then returning to it.
"But those bags are unpacked now," Lance said, pulling JC's hand across the table into the both of his.
"Yes. I think they are."
"I love you Josh."
"Thank you Lance."
"For what? "
"For loving me. And being you."
"You're welcome."
JC and Lance sat quietly, finishing their wine, and then headed up to their suite. In the elevator, Lance stood behind JC and wrapped his arms around him, kissing the back and side of his neck. Leaning against the back wall of the elevator, Lance pulled JC to him, so that he was leaning there too, against him. Lance felt the slight vibration of the elevator's long slow climb to the top floor, and he waited for the beep that would signal the doors were about to open.
"So in that scene, when you kissed her? Were thinking of him?"
"Yes," Lance said. "About Brendan. And the mistake I'd made giving into him, and letting myself believe all the lies he told me - or wanting to believe them, which was even worse."
"That's what I thought," JC said, squeezing Lance's hand, and then leading him out of the elevator through the just-opening doors. "But it's past now.
All past."
Lance stopped walking and tugged JC back toward him, spinning him around in the hallway a few feet from the door to their hotel room, and pulling JC into his arms.
"Do you really mean that?" Lance said, his eyes pleading and full of tears. "About it being all past now?"
"I do. Because it is."
"It really is Josh."
"I know. I really do."
"Thank you," Lance whispered, closing his eyes, and sighing as JC kissed him.
"And how was your stay, Mr. Bass?"
"It was fine," Lance said, signing the credit card slip and handing it to the young man at the hotel's front desk. "Thank you.
"You're welcome sir," the young man said. "Have a safe journey home."
Lance turned from the front desk and scanned the lobby, looking for JC, but not seeing him. Then he remembered that JC had said he'd be in the gift shop buying Aaron a t-shirt or something, so Lance headed there.
"Did you find something?" Lance said, coming up behind JC in the gift shop, and slipping his hand into the back pocket of JC's jeans.
"Not really," JC said, turning his head and smiling at Lance. "These t-shirts are all so tacky, and he already has about a hundred stuffed animals."
"How about a coloring book?"
"Oh, that'd be good. Do they have some?"
"Yeah. Over here."
"Let's see," JC said, bending over and sorting through several coloring books that were lined up below the magazine rack. "How about this one? He likes trucks."
"Yeah, that one's great," Lance said. "He'll love it."
"Do you want a paper too?" JC said, picking up the Los Angeles Times.
"Why? You want to read about the premiere?" Lance said, pulling his hand out of JC''s back pocket, and taking the newspaper from him.
"Well I was kind of curious to see whether we're the new power-couple in town."
"You're weird," Lance said, laughing and handing the newspaper back to JC.
"I married you, didn't I?" JC said, turning and heading for the cashier.
"I guess you got me there."
Lance waited while JC paid for the coloring book and the newspaper, and then followed him outside to the valet parking station. JC had bought a new Volvo two weeks ago, and it was conspicuous among the sports cars that were parked and waiting for their owners in front of the hotel.
"Do you want me to drive," Lance asked.
"No. I don't mind," JC said, tipping the valet parking attendant, thanking him, and then getting into the car.
"Okay," Lance said, opening the passenger-side door and getting in next to JC. "I can't stand the traffic in this damn city anyway."
"It shouldn't be too bad. It's early."
"We'll see."
"So read that article to me," JC said, pulling the car onto Wilshire Boulevard and heading for the freeway onramp.
"Do I have to?"
"Yes."
"Okay. Let me find it," Lance said, flipping through each section of the paper.
"The Scene section."
"Yeah, I know," Lance said, finding it and then putting the rest of the paper on the floor in front of him.
"Well?" JC said, taking a quick look at Lance and then returning his attention to the road. "What does it say?
"It says, 'JC Chasez, formerly head-dork in the now-defunct boyband, 'N Sync.'"
"It does not," JC said, laughing.
"Okay," Lance said, laughing too. "For real now. It says, 'Last night Mann's historic 1931 Fox Westwood Village theater was the site for the premiere of Notorious, Steven Soderbergh's dark re-imagining of the famous Hitchcock film. The film's star, Lance Bass, who this year won an Academy Award for Best Actor, attended the premiere with his partner, Joshua Chasez, also an Academy Award winner this year, for Best Song. In an interview after the premiere, Bass notably thanked Chasez for being "the best thing that had ever happened to him." Julia Dalreema, Bass' co-star in the film....'
Lance stopped reading and turned to look at JC.
"That's all there is about us," Lance said. "It's just a society page thing. So I hope you're not too disappointed."
"Is that really what it said?"
"I swear to God."
"It's kind of cool, don't you think?"
"That they called us partners?"
"Yeah," JC said. "And that they didn't make too big of a deal about it, like it's just barely news that we're together."
"You're right. It is cool."
"I mean, can you imagine how it would have been five years ago?" JC asked.
"I don't even want to think about it," Lance said, shaking his head.
"Seriously though," JC said. "Things really have changed."
"Yeah," Lance said, putting his hand on JC's knee. "But so have we."
"Yeah, I guess we have," JC said, covering Lance's hand with his own. "For one thing, we're older now."
"And getting older," Lance said, laughing and looking at JC. "Like someone who happens to be turning 30 next month."
"Oh, shut up," JC said, pretending to sound angry, and then pausing to think for a moment.
"But it's really not so bad," JC continued. "Getting older."
"No," Lance said. "In fact, I think it's a good thing, getting older. I mean, I like knowing who I am, and what I want, and where I want to be and to go."
"And knowing what matters."
"And who."
"Yeah. And who."
"Hey little guy," Lance said, crouching in front of Aaron and poking him softly in the stomach. "Josh brought you a present from Los Angeles."
"A present?" Aaron said, turning to look at JC, who was standing next to Lance in the upstairs kitchen.
"Yeah," JC said. "A present. For you."
"Where is it?"
"It's right here," JC said, handing Aaron a small paper sack. "Look inside."
Aaron took the sack from JC and turned it upside down and shook it, causing the coloring book fall to the floor with flat slap against the tile there. Aaron then bent over and picked it up, examining it closely, and smiling.
"It's a book with twucks on it," Aaron said, smiling more broadly now. "Can we read it now."
"You can color in it too," JC said, smiling at Aaron, and then mussing his hair. "With your crayons."
"I can?" Aaron said, looking back and forth between the coloring book and JC, his face full of happy, half-confused amazement.
"Yes you can," JC said, laughing now. "Do you like it?"
"I love it," Aaron said, clutching the coloring book to his chest as if he was giving it a hug. "Let's color in it now."
"What do you say first," Lance said, still crouched before him. "Aaron, what do you say when someone gives you a gift?"
"Thank you Josh," Aaron said, turning to look up at JC as he said it, and then taking hold of his outstretched hand.