Part 5


[Saturday, July 19, 2003 – Miami, FL]

“Ugh. Hot dogs. Repulsive. Where’s the frigging chicken? Or else I think I might barf,” JC fusses, so quietly that only Lance, standing next to him at the pre-Skills luncheon buffet spread, can hear.

Lance tongs a grilled hamburger and lays it on the bun on his plate. “Um, I hardly think that’s the reason you might barf, Josh. And since when did you start hating on poor, innocent hot dogs?”

“Since I noticed their grotesque puckered little ends. Check it out. Just like two baby assholes on each point.”

“Oh, for the love of God.” Rolling his eyes and snickering, Lance moves over to the metal warming tray full of French fries. “Personally, I dig the way assholes look……….and the way they feel too. You’re just plain weird. Weird, man. ‘Cause you know you do too.”

“Yeah, well, I won’t be putting one of those pieces of crap in MY mouth.”

“Josh, man, grow up. These are all beef.”

JC wrinkles his nose irritably, an obvious stiffness in all of his movements as he walks slowly. “Sure. All beef WHAT? There’s lots of parts on a beef they could put in there.”

Lance shakes his head and sighs, trying to decide if he wants coleslaw or pasta salad. “Please. You know you’ve had worse shit than those things in your mouth. Get real, crabby-ass. Somebody SO needs to get laid, I swear.”

“I’m not crabby,” JC pouts. “Just pensive. And nervous.”

“And hung-over as hell. You left that one out.”

“Shut up. I don’t need you bitching at me today. Please.”

“So how are you feeling today? For real?” Lance side-glances at him for a moment.

“Sick. Really sick. Chills and nausea and a headache.”

“Hung-over. Day-after effects of some serious alcohol abuse.”

JC turns and narrows his darkly-shaded eyes at Lance and quietly says, “Look, wiseass. I am in NO mood for your mouth on this fine day. I hurt all over. Did I mention the one hundred sizzling-hot griddles being slammed against my whole back?……….I feel like I’m being roasted at the stake, to answer your question”

Lance snickers again and reaches for the salt. “I’m sorry for your discomfort, Josh, really. But it’s like this, see. I wasn’t in the mood for your mental unhealth meltdown last night. But I stuck by you and listened all evening. So I earned the right to call a hang-over when I see one on you, man.”

“And sun poisoning.” JC sniffs and grabs for the tongs at the hamburger tray.

“Sun poisoning. Will you stop with the drama queen stuff?” Sliding steadily down the serving line and piling on more of the savory food items, Lance is hardly looking at him.

“It’s bad, Lance. I couldn’t get out of bed this morning, couldn’t fucking move. Moms had to come over and help. She’s worried that it’s really something serious, and she didn’t want me out here today. But, you know, I gotta.”

“You’re such a trooper. The children will be proud.”

“Okay, Lance, you ass, I’m not playing. This is real.”

“Well, did you put on lots of moisturizer and shit?”

“Tons. And then some. But it still burns. Like hell. As if I got doused with boiling water. And I feel achy all over, like I’ve got the flu or something.”

Lance turns to him dead-on, more concerned now. “Maybe you *shouldn’t* be out there today. I mean even under all those pounds of clothes. You might make yourself worse.”

JC grimaces, crinkling his eyes behind the opaque sunglasses. “I have to make an appearance at least. Let ‘em see me, ya know. Maybe then I could sneak out early or something.”

Practiced and lightning-fast, Lance rolls his colorful eyes again and laughs knowingly. “AFTER you catch up with you-know-who. You think I don’t see through you, JC?”

JC’s sculpted cheeks flush instantly with a living redness to match his inflamed back, and he turns around to the buffet again as if spooked before he whispers. “He’s not here yet, is he, Lance?”

Lance pivots around and scans the immediate surroundings through squinted eyes. “I don’t see him. Just be chill. There are cameras everyfuckingwhere.”

“Lance, what the hell am I going to say to him, man?”

“Well, something like, ‘I can’t wait ‘til we’re seniors, baby! Isn’t high school so much fun?”

“Fuck you, Lance. You’re no help.”

Lance shifts his gaze back to JC. “Okay. Seriously. You might start off with, ‘Justin, I did NOT book outta there with no ho last night,’ or maybe, ‘Are you feeling okay today after your fall last night, Justin, honey?’ Either of those would be acceptable for ice-breaking purposes, I’m guessing. I mean jeez. Have just a little heart, Josh. Maybe?”

“*He* has my heart, man,” JC blurts out immediately, without forethought.

Lance sighs again because he knows he should have seen that response coming. Then he goes for the utensil tray. “You two need to talk, Josh. Like some kinda fierce bad. I swear. ‘Cause I know Ju, and he’s at least as bad off as you are. If not worse.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

“A little over-dressed for the occasion, aren’t ya, C? What’s up with this look you’re sporting? Beach Bum Chic When It’s Only 50 Degrees Outside?”

JC cringes when he hears Joey’s loud, outgoing voice coming up closer and closer behind where he and Lance stand. He cringes AND winces at the very real possibility that Joey will forget about the fried flesh under the white shirt and greet him with physical contact back there in some friendly, obnoxious way.

*If he fucking touches me, I’ll scream my head off. I swear I will. I will fucking hurt some fucking eardrums around this joint I’ll scream so damn loud if he fucking touches me. This rolling-around-in-shattered-glass-pieces feeling is bad enough as it is. But if he lays a hand on my back or shoulders and brings that damn blowtorch-cranked-up-to-blue-flame-hot sensation again, I’ll fucking lose it. Do not fucking touch me. Do not fucking touch me. Do NOT fucking touch me, damnit.*

“Don’t touch him, Joe. He’s in bad shape today, man,” Lance seems to read JC’s overheated mind and turns quickly to the grinning Joey.

*Thank you, Lance. You’ll never know how much chaos you just prevented. I owe you a thousand saves, buddy. Thanks.*

And Joey reacts with a surprisingly sympathetic and maybe even caring mood. He furrows his brow and lowers his tone. “Aww, C. That must suck, dude. I’ve had bad burns before too. NOT fun, I’m telling ya. You gonna be able to rock and roll today?”

“I’m gonna give it my best shot,” JC sighs. And the sound of it is more or less a dread-filled whimper.

“Look. I’ll cover for ya as much as I can. You just hang back and don’t over-exert. I’ll carry us, man. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, Joe. That would damn sure help.”

Joey laughs under his bright red backwards baseball cap. “Yeah, those Daze pansies are gonna be crying in their sippy-cups when it’s all said and done. Lance, Justin, and all the other girlie losers……….Sad, sad, sad.”

“Yeah, yeah. You talk big, Fatone……….But just wait ‘til you see what’s waiting for you back in your pad, bitch.” Lance snickers with deep, wicked undertones and slides a chunk of colorful mango between his lips. “Maybe then you won’t be shooting off at the mouth so much.”

“Bassman, don’t get all cocky and evil just ‘cause you got all your little homo pals to help you get your lame prank on. I can take you and your army ANY day.”

“Sure. Then do it,” Lance says confidently.

Joey waves Lance off, acting suddenly uninterested. “Jace, where’s your boy? Or is he still having probs staying on his feet today?” Joey winks suggestively.

JC flinches as the focus shifts back to him. He’d been trying like crazy to swallow down a tangy bite of a grilled shrimp.”

“He’ll be here,” is all he answers, a bit sheepishly.

“Okay. So you’re a little tamer today. Does that mean the storm’s over?”

“Not quite,” Lance says, rescuing JC again. “Grab some edibles, Joe, and let’s have a seat. You gotta get brought up to date on the latest in the Timber-Sez drama.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

“Hey.”

One simple word. One single sound. Feathery. Silky. Full of so much more than the spoken syllable. Brimming and swirling with devotion and desire so deep that the faraway bottom isn’t visible.

In spite of the searing pain it brings to him physically, JC straightens up in his chair and cranes his neck to look over his shoulder to where the voice came from. And he’s met with big bright eyes of true blue passion set in sunken sockets of pale, gaunt flesh.

“Hi,” he answers, with equal depth of velvet layers and billowing emotion that’s been pent-up and gathering steam far too long.

Joey and Lance had, just seconds before, stood up and departed for “more grub, man,” leaving an empty chair on each side of JC. He realizes now that they must have seen Justin’s approach behind him and discreetly found excuses to isolate him in this relatively quiet and inactive corner of the backstage pavilion.

“Are you alone?” Justin ventures softly and hesitantly.

“Um, looks that way, doesn’t it?” JC says, glancing around him at the deserted area. And then he understands, as Justin moves forward with his full plate to sit, the real implications of the question. It makes his insides hurt along with the outside of his body.

The battling demons in there can’t decide which of them is more powerful — the one that wants to jump up and grab Justin desperately and shake him and roar at him, “How could you seriously think I’d run off with some freaky chick rather than be with you? In which alternative universe would that actually happen?” or the one that wants to jump up and grab Justin desperately and hold him and hold him and hold him and make sure he’s healthy and okay.

“Justin, listen. Before anything else goes down, you need to know —”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Jace. I’m cool with it. I mean there’s tons of hot girl action parading around here an inch from naked this weekend. You get drunk, and one of them tempts you in just the right soft, seductive way? And you’re a goner. It’s easy to give in, right? I understand totally. A quick, slick knob job? A tight little twat? Yeah. Whatever. You’re a sexy guy. Everybody on the planet wants to blow you or fuck you. Girls AND boys. So go for it……….It’s cool.”

Under the bill of the baseball cap, Justin smiles just before shoving half a hot dog into his mouth and chomping down on it. It’s a fake smile, however, lacking in the usual shine, lacking even in effort. And JC can almost perfectly visualize the protective, defensive wall Justin’s built up around his heart inside.

*Just strong enough to keep me out.*

He swallows hard. This might be tougher than he thought.

“Justin. It’s NOT cool. And it didn’t happen. None of it. Rumors are cruel. And they suck.”

Justin shrugs nonchalantly and stares at his hot dog, pretending with all his might that he doesn’t care even one tiny little bit and convincing exactly nobody of that. “Rumors. Hmm. Is that what it was, C? Fine. Whatever you need to say.”

“Yes, that’s what it was and nothing more. And it’s not just what I ‘need to say,’” JC shoots back at him quickly. Maybe too quickly. “Do you have any proof that I stepped out of that place with ANYbody besides Carlos last night? Do you, Justin? ‘Cause if you do, I’d sure as hell like to be let in on this information too.”

Justin wrinkles his nose and makes a small snorting sound as he shuffles his feet, large sneakers bumping against the chair he sits in. “Hey, I’m just saying what I feel. I wasn’t there for you again. And you wanted to make me pay. Fine. Call it rumors if you want. You ALWAYS somehow manage to get out of saying you’re sorry. Not for anything. That’s never you, to be the one to say it.”

“You’re acting like a punk, J. You’re not even listening to me.”

“Wait. *I’m* acting like a punk? Then you’re back to acting like a bitch, JC. Not taking my calls again last night. What kind of shit is that anyway?” Justin’s head turns now, and his pupils seem to flare up at JC with a white-hot intensity just for a second. “Just how you gonna sit over there and call me names and tell me I need to fucking ‘listen’ to you?

“Would you STOP! And let me finish?”

“JC, I tried so hard to get in touch with you about 80 katrillion times. Have you bothered to call me back YET? Hmm, NO. I don’t think so. And now you want ME to shut up and let YOU talk? Oh, now THAT’S fair. How messed up of me to not get it……….Asshole.”

“Name-calling IS acceptable as long as you keep the volume down, ladies. Face-scratching and hair-pulling, however, are not. You might do something hazardous like breaking a nail or two.” Chris, who has just swooped in on the scene, leans in to place his fatherly talons on an angry Justin’s shoulder and continues his mocking, hushed, sing-song-like scold. “You’ll both have to leave the playground if you can’t play nicely.”

JC groans as he adjusts his neck to tear his eyes off Justin and glare at Chris. “CK, dude. Did I or did I NOT forget ‘til the very end last night that I had my damn cell with me? And then was the ringer turned off? Will you tell him, man? He won’t believe me, even if I say the fucking sky is blue. Hard-headed prick.”

Justin rolls his eyes, and Chris snickers. “Okay, Chasez. That last bit there is too close to territory I don’t really wanna explore, dude. Not in ANY lifetime. So, um, I’m gonna leave you two pervs to your little tea party and get the hell outta the war zone here.”

Frustrated, JC huffs. “Would you just confirm that for me, man? No, for HIM? So he won’t be pissy all damn day?”

Chris sighs as if he’s bored now, bends closer to Justin, hugging his shoulders affectionately, and simpers, “Timberkcakes, honey, your dumbass boyfriend here needs a tutorial on how to use the pricey little present you gave him. He totally missed all your calls while he was tripping and throwing his little fit. And did I mention that he’s a loser? And that you should cut him off from any dick for, like, oh, maybe seven weeks or so?”

With that playful evil darting behind the shadows in his eyes, Chris glances over to JC and arches his eyebrows, smirk for smirk. “How was that, C-baby? What you had in mind?”

“Yo, Kirkpatrick! Get over here! Leave them be! Ain’t you got ANY sense?” Joey yells from a distance, and Chris pats them both on the back before trotting off.

“Shit!” JC hisses and grimaces from the sudden unwanted and unintentionally vicious contact to his stinging flesh. “He’s such a fuck.”

Justin’s grown quiet since Chris approached them. And when he speaks again, it’s almost rhetorical and soft. “Hmm……….What a great fucking getaway weekend we’re having together so far, huh?”

JC draws in a large deep breath and sets his barely touched food on the floor beside him. He’s eaten almost nothing, but he hardly wants to. His gut is rolling bitterly, and all he can concentrate on is how desperately he wants to touch the dark circles under Justin’s weak-looking eyes. Tired of working so hard to be wickedly witty, tired of being so alone without the one he loves, he longs for the sweet, peaceful harmony of just the two of them again and figures he’ll go to about any fucking lengths to restore it.

“No. It hasn’t been great at all. Not even close. Because we haven’t been together. Not yet,” he murmurs, feeling his own heart pound as he watches Justin now that he’s so near again.

Fully immersed in his state of agitated melancholy, Justin huffs and slowly blinks his cloudy blue eyes. “And I guess that’s my fucking fault too, hmm? Everything else is. Somehow that’s got to be too. Makes perfect sense in a fucked-up world.”

“Justin, I wasn’t blaming it all on you. And if you keep yelling at me, somebody’s going to hear.”

“Lovely. Then they’ll have plenty of evidence that we hate each other like those dumbasses on the Net say we do.”

Never taking his eyes off Justin, JC sips from his cup of blue Gatorade, hoping it will settle the queasiness in his stomach. “I prefer the ones who think we fuck each other ‘til we can’t walk……….They’re closer to right, ya know.”

Still watching intently, JC spots the quick, reflexive up-shift of Justin’s glance and the twittering beginnings of the small smile around his attractive and talented mouth. The mouth that now holds the other half of a loaded hot dog. He’s caught the gorgeous younger man off-guard. And it’s a beautiful sight.

JC has to smile at him. Has to. “Finally. Your ass is speechless. It’s about time.”

Justin chews and swallows. Then his hint of a smile flourishes into a full-blown radiant grin. “You’re so bad, C. Talking that naughty smack out here in public.”

“But you love it. It makes you hard. Every time,” JC snickers quietly, seductively.

A shading crimson blush finally brings some color to Justin’s washed-out, haggard face. “Ah, I can’t say it’s a lie, what you said. You’re the master at that. The best.”

JC smiles again as Justin sits back in his chair and starts on a turkey sandwich. “So……….are you okay? After last night?”

Justin nods while he’s chewing and wipes two fingers on his baggy shorts. “Killer headache. Rum will HURT you, I’m saying. But I think it might’ve knocked out some of the infection germs. Damn sinuses. Why do we fucking need them anyway? But I’m getting to good.”

“No. I meant from the little spill you took, coming in Crobar’s back door. They said you passed out cold and dropped……….I was freaking-out worried.”

Justin looks puzzled for a second and then laughs. “Ah, what shit!……….Man! I stumbled, yeah. Right after I heard that crap that you’d left already when I was so needing to see you. So, like, I lost my balance, but they had my back. Passed out? Jesus. Wrong……….Rumors again, ya think?”

“Rumors, yeah……….I waited for you. I did.”

“I know now……….Bullshit must’ve been on the loose last night, huh?”

“Justin.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

Justin’s irises shadow a deeper layer of blue as he’s caught surprised again and glances away. “For what?”

“For all the crap, the misunderstandings, the missed calls, for putting more pressure on you than you deserve, for being part of why things got this way between us……….You said I never say it. Well, I’m saying it now because it’s true……….I’m sorry.”

The smile that constantly flirts and plays hide-and-seek with the corners of Justin’s mouth begins to play around there again as Justin stares at the floor and allows the soothing balm of JC’s voice to float down and wave over his bruised soul. Unconsciously, he savors the effect deliciously because this is the best he’s felt — physically and emotionally — in days. Then he moves his eyes upward again to look JC over for full healing impact.

“Okay. Then me too. I should’ve never brought Cameron around to muck up *our* weekend. And I should’ve stuck to the plan. I’m sorry as fuck for that……….And about believing that crap that you left with some hooch mama, man, they’d have to be carting me off to the penitentiary for sure if I seriously thought that shit might be true. That ho would get so jacked.”

JC bellows out a laugh and doesn’t even wince when it hurts his scorched skin. “You’d pop a cap in her ass?”

“If she messed with you? Hell yes. Or I’d send Trace to do it. He gets off on skank patrol. Haha.”

“Ahhh,” JC breathes out, quieter and more delicately now. “And what would that leave YOU doing then? Finding ME and popping a cap — or something way better — in MY ass? ‘Cause, hmm, I think I’d get a definite rise outta that. How ‘bout you, J?”

Justin’s blush is faint but blooms and trickles down under this thin trail of beard. He giggles. “Alright now, Jace. You ass. I already told you about talking dirty to me when I gotta stand up and walk around. So stop it, damn you.”

“Oh, gimme a big, fat break, Boy Superstar. You’ve got to be joking. With the kind of rated-XXX shit you do and say on stage in your after-shows, don’t you even start on me, Timberlake.”

Justin shrugs and squirms. “Yeah, but YOU do it totally on purpose to torture me, and you know it……….that gentle, sexy, soft stuff you come out with……….like you’re purring or something.”

“Ah, now that’s a new one,” JC whispers sarcastically. But then he eases down to thick and sultry. “Maybe it sounds like purring because you’re so damn good at, well……….all that petting and stroking and……….well, you know.”

And Justin wriggles more uncomfortably and leans against the back of his chair, struggling with the urge to massage his lap. “Damn……….Check this out……….Now I can’t even go and get more iced tea, man……….I hate you.”

“No, you don’t, lying lil’ punk. Wait a sec. I’ll get it for you,” JC offers, but he’s suddenly unsure if he should stand up at the moment either. It’s been rather “stimulating,” this little chat with Justin. And the effects would most surely show.

“No!” Justin calls out to him as he’s about to strain to his feet. And JC hears what seems to be a small whimper of heart-felt need in the satiny plea. “Don’t go away……….’Kay? Not ‘til we HAVE TO split up and head out there to where everyone else is.”

*And he could bring me to my knees with that look. Perfectly innocent, genuine, unguarded. Unpretentious, deglamourized, hopeful. So full of his great big heart. The real Justin. The one that — somehow — loves me.*

“Okay. I’ll stay. It’s just that you’re thirsty. I was trying to help—”

“I’m okay. Now. Just stay, Jace. Please?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Just right here. With you. That’s all. This is a-okay with me too.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

“So? Did you two fix it? Are we back to happily-ever-after again now?” Lance asks Justin as he squints past him, waves (or maybe pretends to wave), and smiles at a swooning-hyper fan far behind the erected barricades or possibly at a random semi-celebrity milling around in the sand at the pre-activity mayhem out on the beach.

“Yeah, man.” And Justin has a smile of his own — one that threatens to put the beaming sun overhead out of commission. “It’s right again.”

“Well, good for you. All the world’s right again too. And that’s awesome. I mean I couldn’t tell, with that festive entrance you made when you got introduced. What the hell was that, man? Queen Cleopatra being carried in on her bed?” Lance chuckles.

Justin rolls his eyes with theatrical flair. “God, Bass. Could you exaggerate a little MORE? Maybe sound slightly more GAY? Christ. I was feeling excited and psyched. The dudes picked me up on the spur of the moment and brought me out to the crowd……….You got a problem with that? Send me a bill. I couldn’t help it.”

Lance kicks sand at him and smiles. “Lighten up. I’m playing. It’s cool to see you like this again, man. I’m glad you guys worked it out. I missed all this. It’s been a long while for me, you know.”

Justin grins and gives him an affectionately playful shoulder shove. “I miss us doing shit like this too. Today’s gonna rock.”

“Aww, lonely at the top? No one to play with up there on high?” Lance fakes sympathy and raises one coifed eyebrow slyly.

“No, you DIDN’T just say that!” Justin giggles and pushes him again.

“Oh, my bad. I forgot. You’ve got that a-list groupie attached to your right nut now. Not so ‘alone’ after all, I guess.” Lance almost stumbles in the gritty thickness under his feet from laughing so hard.

“Bass, you’ve obviously forgotten how I can whip your ass. So back off, dude.”

“Timberlake, you’ve obviously forgotten how I’m not the girlie runt of the litter anymore. So you back THE HELL off, dude.”

Justin cradles his own stomach with long arms as rolling outbursts of laughter rack his body. “Lance, Lance, Lance, stop……….Lots of peoples are eyeing us, dawg.”

“And one particular people is eyeing *you* big-time heavy behind those dark Fendis.”

Justin looks through his own flashy sunshades over to where JC intermingles with his “team.” And even from a distance of quite a few yards, he’s rewarded with that sweet-hot and yet still cool, barely-there smile from his exquisite lover. With an anxious, greedy tongue, he slowly wets his lips in a secretive signal return gesture.

Absently, he moans and speaks his thoughts in a raspy whisper. “How much longer ‘til this is over, man? His hair looks so……….fine in the wind……….the way those highlights catch the sunshine so naturally……….He doesn’t even realize what he does to people……….*so hot*.”

Lance turns back to him after taking in more of the bustling sultry scenery around them. “What? Oh. You’re lusting again. I should’ve known. You horn dog. Oh, he’s soooo *dreamy*……….Why don’t you just jog over there and fuck him blind up against the wall? I’ll bet the fans would hoop and holler for THAT event. Haha.”

“Shut up, Lance. It’s been long time since we, you know, hooked up.”

“Well, you’ll have to be careful when you finally do again, I guess you know. With his back all jacked up like it is.”

Justin darts his attention over to Lance’s face and frowns. “What?”

“Hello? His 90-gerbillion-degree sunburn. He didn’t tell you?”

“He mentioned falling asleep and getting blistered. That’s, like, no big surprise. You know how he is.”

Lance shakes his head. “Blistered? Is that what he called it? Jeez, more like charbroiled……….You seriously haven’t seen it, Justin? Why do think he’s got, like, ALL of his skin covered up? He’s hurting, man. His mother’s worried as crap about him. She might pull rank and yank his ass out of the sun at any minute now. It’s way worse than blistered.”

Unaware he’s even doing so, Justin grits his teeth and pops a couple of his knuckles as he stands there watching JC grin and fool around with the others across the way, seemingly nothing out of the ordinary. “He acts like he’s okay.”

“Yeah, well, he’s good at that fronting thing. But he’s not okay.”

“Damn. Why didn’t he say so? He shouldn’t be suffering like this out here in HELL. Where the fuck is Johnny, man? This is wrong.”

Trying to make it look playful and casual, Lance wraps himself around Justin’s lanky frame and lamely attempts a fake wrestling hold on his neck and shoulders. “Ju, baby, relax. He’s a big boy. He knows what he’s doing……….Well, *most* of the time. He can take care of himself.”

“But I like taking care of him. I want to,” Justin whispers.

“Hey, look. Maybe he wanted you to have a blast this afternoon and not stress the hell out over him……….So do that, J. For him. Be smooth.”

“Okay. I’ll try.”

Lance frees him and steps back, almost losing his balance again in the sand. “Good boy.”

“People came down here to see him. He’s giving them what they came for. Like always.”

“Yep,” Lance agrees. Then he lowers his rich voice once more. “You know you made him crazy last night……….Awesome power you have over him, man.”

“I didn’t mean to……….I wanted to be with him. And I tried to be………Shit happens. But I love him. I do, Lance.”

“Yeah, we all know. And just a matter of time now ‘til you can ‘hook up’ again, as you say, right? So enjoy the hoopla and give ‘em a show. Deal?”

Justin half-smiles, begrudgingly resigned to wait a little while longer for JC. “Deal, Bass. You’re a good guy, man.”

“And you’re not so bad yourself, J. Let’s go kick some Knight ass..” Lance punches his lean arm.

“Yo, if it’s red, it’s going DOWN,” Justin declares with the choppy two-finger pledge to the front of his chest.

And Lance snickers again, rolls his eyes. “Justin, man, keep your slimy sex life out of it. I don’t need to hear about you two freaks doing it, thank you.”

“You wish, Bass. You just keep on wishing.”

“Umm, okay.”

~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~x~

“Shazaay……….Shazaay, sexy babaay……….What up wid you and all your hotness todaay?” Chris serenades off-key as he grabs JC from behind in a semi-bear hug and tries to twirl him around for any cameras that might be on them.

JC grins and make the feeble attempt to laugh through his groans and hisses, a sheet of molten lava oozing down his back, refreshing the agony. “That pains me like you wouldn’t believe, man. Get the hell off, or I’m going to maim you for life.”

“Uh huh. And is that what you’re gonna whine at Trousersnake when HE jumps your bones?”

“He can jump on anything he damn well wants to jump on, for as many times as he wants to jump on it.”

“Ooooh, I’ll just BET he can.” Chris has unlocked himself from around JC’s wiry, fully-clothed body and now swings around to face him, wriggling his eyebrows. “Dude. You two might kill each other later behind closed doors, going for summa that pleasure you can’t measure. Wowee. That’ll be big-honking bombastic explosive, won’t it, Chasez?”

“CK, you need to shut up and waddle away from me, man. And if you’d ever get some ass of your own, you maybe wouldn’t fantasize about us banging all the time.”

Chris pretends to pout. “JC, you have got a very nasty mouth. That was sort of rude. And harsh.”

JC is expressionless behind the black, black sunglasses. “So?”

“Hey, why are you out here if you’re in so much pain, dude?”

“I do what I’m ‘sposed to do.”

“Or maybe so you can keep standing there making those ‘I wanna hump you ‘til you faint RIGHT NOW’ eyes over at Justin.”

JC rolls the aforementioned eyes although no one can actually see it. “You should really seek some help for that weird obsession you’ve got with our intimate life, man. Besides, how do you know we patched it back together? Since you were, like, ZERO assistance?”

“Oh, please, Jace. I watched you two talking. It screamed making-up.”

A quick, spontaneous shrug ignites the quick, spontaneous burning-wildfire reaction across both his shoulders, and JC reminds himself he should refrain from doing that if he plans to remain conscious. “Could’ve been all for the onlookers and cameras.”

Chris snickers and pokes at JC’s ribs. “Bullshit. I saw what I saw. You two were so close to pouncing on each other and going at it right then and there that it was frigging hilarious.”

“Go away, CK. You’re uglying up my image.”

Ignoring the comment, Chris changes the subject. “So you planning on partying tonight? Hanging out again? Maybe you’ll actually *enjoy* it this time, unlike last night.”

“Don’t know yet. I’ll wait and see how I feel later on, after —”

“After you’ve been ‘Justified’? Or would that be ‘RE-Justified’?” And Chris heehaws as if this is actually funny.

JC smirks. “You are sad and twisted, Kirkpatrick.”

“Yo, C! Everything still cool, man?” Perspiring all over his face, Lonnie suddenly appears from seemingly out of the vast horizon like a massive dark thundercloud and heavy-steps up to JC, tossing up sand with his toes as he makes his way.

“Yeah, I guess. Considering. These damn clothes are hotter than hell, but it’d be worse without them, I guess,” JC says with an awkward, labored shrug.

“Well, gimme the signal if you need to, man. I’m right over there.”

“Gotcha.”

“Chasez, now don’t push yoself. If you feel bad, dawg, then you feel bad. Things can go on without you, I’m saying.”

JC nods. “Okay. I’ll take it easy and try to hang in here a little while.”

As the bodyguard starts to trudge away, Chris calls out, “Yo, Lonnie? I got a little sun damage myself. You not gonna be all concerned about me too, man?”

Lonnie slowly turns his head as he keeps walking. “Yo, Kirkpatrick. What up? I’ll send you out some aloe-whatever lotion, man.”

Chris shakes his head and sighs. “Damn. Some people’s oversized, smartass kids. I get NO respect.”

JC’s hurting, but he can’t resist one more dig at an old buddy he doesn’t get the chance to dig at enough anymore. “Well, dude. Maybe you should skip on back to the Lollipop Guild and hang with the flying monkeys.”

“Hang on this, Chasez,” Chris retorts quickly and predictably. But then he inches closer to JC for a more hushed, more serious small speech. “C, really. Take a raincheck if it’s getting to you, man. Everybody will understand. And they’ll just have to deal with ME if they don’t. ‘Kay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, man,” JC whispers back and smiles.



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