Part 3


JC shifted a bit, placing his hands under his head and sighing, knowing that once again he’d gotten lucky and realizing that yes, the fates must be smiling. A squeak of springs drew his eyes up, watching as Chris moved in the bunk above him. Two days ago, he was sleeping under a bridge; tonight he was warm and dry (thanks to Chris for finding him and telling him about the empty bunk in his cabin) and sailing home on the grandest ship in the world.

Fate.

JC was a firm believer in fate. In taking what came, and making the best of it. When he’d left Baltimore, he’d been lucky enough to get a job on a cross-Atlantic steamer, disembarking in France and spending the next three years traveling the country, learning the language, and drawing. Forever drawing. Sometimes fate wasn’t kind. He went hungry on more than one occasion and had slept in less than stellar accommodations on even more. But always, just around the next bend of the road or into the next town or city, there were kind souls who needed jobs done for a room, a meal, and bit of art.

Fate.

Fate had decreed that he’d spend these last three years alone, save for the odd friendship with other itinerants, and once, a weeklong fling with an Italian wine merchant. But nothing ever long-term. Nothing permanent. JC had always wondered if he was capable of anything that lasting, that strong. An emotion so strong he’d want to stay in one place, with one person. He wondered no more. He reached under the bunk and pulled out his sketchpad, flipping the pages until he found the one he wanted. Shifting a bit toward the pale light from the small porthole, he gazed upon the sketch of him. Of Justin.

The man that fate had just given him, and the one he’d fallen in love with at first sight.

JC had realized at once what it was, that surge of emotion that had coursed through him when he and Justin had locked eyes earlier today. Was it just today? he marveled. Then, tonight, he’d talked to Justin. Touched Justin. Kissed Justin. And he’d known even more that Justin was his. His? JC nodded, answering his own question. It was crazy, it was irrational, it was going against everything he’d ever believed about himself and others. But there it was. He knew it, he felt it, deep down inside, in his heart, in his soul, that Justin was his, that Justin belonged to him.

And he belonged to Justin.

JC frowned a bit at the sketch, realizing he’d missed the sadness in Justin’s eyes before, the sadness he’d seen when JC had found him at the stern of the ship. The sadness that had driven Justin to think about ending his life. JC wondered what could be so bad, so disheartening to cause Justin to think that way. He never wanted Justin to be anything but happy.

But how to make that happen.

***

He waited until Justin showed up, because he knew Justin would. He watched as the younger man peered over the rail, the water churning behind the powerful propellers. “Now, aren’t you glad you didn’t jump?” JC asked, coming out of the shadows and walking to Justin.

Justin startled, looking at JC quickly before turning back to the rail. “I don’t think I would have done it anyway,” he murmured. “Too much of a coward.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” JC had reached Justin, standing close to the younger man. “That’s the coward’s way out. Living is the hard way.”

Justin cocked his head. “You think so?”

“Yes, I do.” JC reached into his pocket for his pencil, flipping the pages of his pad until he found the one of Justin. “Life is hard. It’s tough. But it’s also the only one we have. It’s harder to face things that make us unhappy, and much easier to run away.”

“Is that what you did?” Justin asked, trying to peek at the sketchpad, only to have JC pull back a bit. “Run away?”

“No, not really,” JC answered. “Well, maybe. My family didn’t exactly approve of me and my, uh, choices, so I guess I did run away.” A few swipes of the pencil. “But I’m going back now. It’ll be hard, the problems are still there, but they’re my family.”

“I wish I had your strength,” Justin whispered.

JC raised his eyes, locking his with Justin’s pained ones. “You’re stronger than you think,” he told Justin.

Energy flowed between them as the moment stretched on. A thousand emotions passed through Justin’s eyes as JC moved a bit closer…closer…

“There you are!”

They broke apart, turning toward the sound of the voice. JC saw the woman from yesterday approaching, a smile that didn’t reach her eyes on her face, a huge diamond flashing on her hand. She marched directly up to Justin, lifted the hand with the diamond, and smoothed down Justin’s flying curls. “You disappeared so fast after breakfast, I thought you might have been ill.” She patted Justin’s cheek. “I was worried when I couldn’t find you, and here you are. At the back of the ship.” She turned to JC. “Who’s your friend?” she asked.

JC removed his cap, bending low at the waist before the woman. “JC Chasez, milady,” he said, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Justin and I were just having a discussion about the ship.”

“This is Catherine, my fiancée,” Justin said. He flinched when JC held out a hand for Catherine to shake, only to have it ignored by the woman. He glanced at JC, noting with relief the humor was still in JC’s eyes. “Catherine, did you need me for something?”

“It’s time for our tour of the ship,” she told him. “Papa went to great lengths to arrange this tour before we left England, the least you could do is show up for it.”

Justin flinched again at being reminded of another debt owed to Mr. Hill. “I’ll be right there,” he told her, expecting her to leave.

She didn’t. “Mr. Chasez, is it?” JC nodded. “What do you have there?” she asked, pointing at JC’s sketchpad.

“Your fiancé, ma’am,” JC said, handing over the sketch to Catherine, allowing Justin to see it for the first time.

The sketch was of Justin’s profile, and JC had captured both Justin’s beauty and sadness. The slope of his cheek, the lift of his mouth, the pain in his eyes. Justin looked at JC, a silent question in his eyes. JC merely smiled.

“Well, that’s very good,” Catherine said. “Looks just like him, though I’d prefer one of him smiling.” She again patted Justin’s cheek. “He doesn’t smile enough around me.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” JC murmured.

Catherine narrowed her gaze at JC. “Would you like to join us for dinner tonight, Mr. Chasez?” She waved away Justin’s protests. “We’re a small group, but you might find us interesting.”

“Of that, I have no doubt, Miss Hill,” JC bent again into a bow. “I’d be honored.”

“Good.” She grasped Justin’s arm again, and this time succeeded in moving him away from the stern of the ship. “Eight p.m., the bottom of the Grand Staircase.” She paused, looking him up and down. “And it’s formal. Will that be a problem?”

“Not at all.” He smiled at Justin. “I look forward to the evening.”

Justin glanced back at JC as Catherine pulled him away. JC merely waved and continued to smile.

***

“Do ‘ya have any idea how much trouble we could get into?” Chris hissed at JC, peering down the hall. “It’s breakin’ and enterin’ is what it is, boyo.”

“Shh,” JC knelt down in front of the door, the pulling the piece of wire from his pocket and slipping it into the lock. “Just keep an eye out, and I’ll do all the breaking and entering.”

“And what exactly are ‘ya doin’ this for anyway?” Chris asked, sighing as the lock clicked open and they both hurried inside.

“Because I need something for tonight, and he’ll have what I need,” JC explained cryptically.

“Who?” Chris looked at the luggage tag. “Mr. Guggenheim?”

“No, his valet.” JC moved through the rooms, to a closet, pulling it open. “I need a formal suit. I know he’s got two. They always have two, and he won’t miss his other one until we land in America.”

“What?” Chris yelled, then lowered his voice when JC hushed him. “We broke in here for a suit?”

“Yes,” JC answered, then cheered with delight. “Here it is!” He held up the garment for Chris to see.

Chris grabbed it from him, bundling it up and shoving it under his coat. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you can’t go parading that thing through the halls.” Chris moved to the door, opening it a bit and peering right and left. Seeing the coast was clear, he and JC exited the room, heading quickly for the staff stairs and the safety of the Third Class decks.

“Allrighty now,” Chris said as JC took the suit from him. “What’s the big deal about this suit? Why did ‘ya need to look like a waiter? You’re not still trying to scam food, are ‘ya?”

JC shook his head. “No. I have an engagement tonight.” He looked at Chris over his shoulder. “In the Main Dining Salon.”

Chris choked. “In First Class?” JC nodded. “Are ‘ya daft, boyo?”

“I was invited.”

“But you’re a stowaway!” Chris exclaimed. “What if they find out? What will ‘ya tell them?” JC shrugged. “You’re daft, man.” JC smiled. “Why are ‘ya doin’ this? What would make ‘ya take such a chance?” JC’s blush gave Chris the answer. “Oh, no. Not for him. The one from yesterday? The pretty boy?”

“He’s more than that,” JC said simply, noting the time was getting close to eight. “He’s…”

Chris held up a hand. “I don’t want to know about it,” he said. “Just keep me out of it if anything goes wrong. I can’t afford to get tossed off the ship in the middle of the North Atlantic.”

Chris’ words were just a buzz in JC’s ears. This would work, he knew it would. It couldn’t not work.

It was fat



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