A Slash Moment

 

            Predictably, it was JC who brought it up first.

            They were eating lunch one day during rehearsal, and Lance, who had noticed that Justin had a huge glob of mustard on his face, reached over with his napkin and wiped it off.

            “Thanks, man,” Justin said.

            “Whoa, that was kind of a slash moment,” JC observed out loud.

            He found four pairs of eyes on him.

            “A what?” Justin said.

            JC blushed furiously and suddenly focused on his turkey and Swiss sandwich.  Chris picked up on his cue.

            “A what moment, dude?  A ‘slash’ moment?  What the hell is slash?” Chris made quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

            “Nothing,” JC mumbled.

            Joey laughed.  “It’s obviously not nothing if the cat’s got your tongue like that.  ‘Fess up, Joshua.”

            JC looked up from his plate and at his groupmates.  “Um . . .”

            Chris pinched him in the bicep.  “C’mon!”

            “Ow!” JC sighed.  “You all know what fan fic is, right?”

            They nodded their heads.  In a previous life, Lou had warned them of the certain fan activities that were on the “dangerous” list.  Fan fiction was one of them.  So, naturally, they’d all read a little.  Justin never did see what was so dangerous about a bunch of girls wanting to make out with him, even if it was just on paper.

            “Well, uh.  Yeah.  Well, slash is the term for when the couple in a story is, um, homosexual.”  Even to himself, JC sounded a little clinical. 

“Digital Get Down” suddenly flashed through everyone else’s heads.

            “You mean girl on girl stuff?” Justin asked.

            “Yeah.”  JC looked down.  “And boy on boy.”

            “Oh,” Lance said.

            “How’d you find this stuff anyway?” Chris asked.

            “Probably on his way to all the other porn,” Joey answered.

            JC just shrugged.

            “Wait a second . . . are you saying there’s slash out there about us?” Lance finally put two and two together.

            “Well . . .”

            “Holy shit!” Joey crowed.  “I have got  to see some of this.”

            “Hell, yeah!” Chris agreed.

            “How do girls know about that kind of, um, guy stuff?” Justin asked.           

“Wait—don’t you think this is a little weird?” Lance interrupted.  “I mean, what kind of people actually sit around and write about members of the same band making out with each other?”

            No one answered him at first.

            “Actually, you should read Helen’s manifesto on slash and female sexuality,” JC said.

            “Okay, now you’re just freaking me out, dude,” Justin said.

 

 

            After lunch, they gathered around the computer and JC took them to “Puppies in a Box.”

            “Oh, FUCK,” Chris said.

 

 

            After that, it became kind of a thing with the group.  When Chris and Justin would get into mock fights and wrestle, Joey would comment, “Oh, slashy!” or Lance would ask over his bowl of cereal if anyone had read the new puppy or JC would field questions about terminology in between numbers during tour rehearsals.  It became a good distraction from the sweat, grind, and just plain hard work of getting ready for the tour.  And, anyway, the stories were all about them, and most of the time no one came off like a jerk, and, well, almost all the time everyone was generously described in more ways than one, so, mostly, none of the guys had any real problems with it. Surprisingly, it was Justin who took it all in the best humor, probably because, as he said, he was “used to people writing shit down about me all the time.”  He figured it was no big deal. 

“Who would’ve thought Justin would be the mature one?” Joey had pondered one day, as they all lay sweating on the stage floor after running through the show. 

Lance shrugged eloquently. 

“I’m just secure in my manhood,” Justin said.  Chris kicked him hard in the calf.  “OWWW, you fucker!” Justin exclaimed. 

“Secure my ass,” Chris snickered.

“I think there’s a story somewhere about that,” Lance giggled.

JC was uncharacteristically silent.

 

 

A couple of weeks later, the five of them were sprawled all over Justin’s hotel room, fighting off the impending nerves about the show that was set to open a few nights later in town.  There was nothing on t.v., and they were all waiting for Lonnie to bring them the movies they’d requested for the night.  Chris, who was slouching in one of the chairs with his feet on the coffee table, started the question and answer period.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, yourself,” Joey answered, lying on his back with his head hanging off the end of one of the beds.

“What’s your favorite slash story?”

“I thought we’d finished with that,” JC said.

Chris shrugged.  “Humor me.”

“Every fucking day,” Joey said.

“Shut up, Fatone,” Chris threw a pillow at him that Joey expertly parried away from his face with one hand.

Lance was clearly thinking. “I kinda like the one where I’m a hooker.”

“Nuh-uh!” Chris laughed.

Lance blushed a little.  “Yeah.”

“Why?” Justin asked.

Lance shrugged.  “Dunno.  It’s kinda interesting, I guess.”

“Well, now we know how Lance plans to make his post-NSYNC living,” Joey teased.

“Shut up, Joe,” Lance laughed.  “My turn to ask a question,” he said.

“Shoot,” said JC.

“How come I’m always the openly gay one in these stories?”

His bandmates burst into laughter.  Justin giggled so uncontrollably he rolled right off the bed. Joey was holding his stomach in agony he was laughing so hard.

“Oh, fuck OFF,” Lance griped good-naturedly.

“Okay, okay, I got one,” Justin managed to get out while gasping for breath.

“God help us,” Chris was still giggling.

“Which do you like better—the good, well written stuff or the really bad writing that stinks up the joint?”

“You can tell the difference?” Joey earned himself a Justin-pout.

“The bad stuff,” Chris answered almost immediately.

“Why?” Justin asked.

“ ‘Cause I always have a huge dick in those,” he answered.

Everyone groaned.

“God, I’ll never get that image out of my head,” Lance moaned.

“I’m so sorry I even asked,” Justin added.

“When are you even in stories like those?” Joey asked.

Chris glared at him. “Your turn, Joe,” he said in place of answering Joey’s question.

“Um.  Okay.”  Joey thought for a second.  “Most unlikely pairing?”

“Chris and Lance,” Justin was the first one to pipe up.

JC thought about it.  “Yeah,” he agreed.

“Why?” Chris asked.

“ ‘Cause there’s no way Lance would put up with any of your shit for more than five minutes,” JC replied.

“Hey!” Chris objected.

“Besides, it’s just, ummm . . . a really unsexy thought.” Justin added.  He shuddered for effect.

“Are you saying I’m not sexy, Timberlake, is that what you’re saying?” Chris huffed.

“Or maybe you’re saying I’m not the sexy one,” Lance said.  He and Chris exchanged glances.

“Maybe we should show the youngster just how sexy we are,” Chris suggested.  He and Lance got up from their seats and made kissing noises at each other, until they met next to where Justin had landed on the floor, pecked each other on the lips, and then leaned down and each planted big, wet kisses on Justin’s cheeks while they pinned him down.

“Ewww, ewww, get off me, get off me, help, help!” Justin implored JC and Joey from the floor.  Neither moved a muscle to help Justin, laughing at his predicament instead.  Justin finally managed to push Chris and Lance away himself.

“Ewww! Ugh!  I am scarred for LIFE!” Justin shouted breathless as everyone else laughed.

Chris and Lance high fived and pecked each other on the lips again, just to hear Justin “Ewww!” one more time.

After everyone had calmed down, Joey turned to JC.

“Your turn for a question,” he said.

JC’s nose crinkled.  “Most likely pairing?” he asked.

The room was dead silent except for their breathing for about two minutes.

Lonnie’s knock on the door saved anyone from having to answer.

 

 

 

Later, Justin asked JC, “Why’d you pick that question?”

JC had shrugged and said, “Dunno.  Just curious.”

 

 

PopOddyssey rolled into three dates in New York, and the band couldn’t have been more thrilled.  They all loved New York, except for Lance; it was still too much of a city for him, but even he had grown accustomed to the place, and knew how to hunt down good pizza even better than Joey did.

It was Friday night, and a pretty dismal one in Justin’s not-so-limited experience.  Joey had gone to visit with some family, sporting promised baby pictures, and also his mom’s promise that he could make his excuses and leave when it got to be too much.  JC, Lance and Chris had gone clubbing, saying they’d use Friday to party and Saturday to rest, which Justin knew meant that they’d actually just drag Joey out Saturday and sleep as late as they could before the show on Sunday.  Justin had been dying to go with them, but was nursing the remnants of a cold, and had been ordered to “fucking stay home already.”  So he was sitting in his hotel room, bored out of his mind, surrounded on the bed by empty Chinese food cartons, almost ready to go find JC, Lance and Chris when their Making the Video for “Pop” came on MTV.  He decided to watch it, in spite of actually having been there, for God’s sake, he told himself, but it was always interesting to see how they were edited together.  It was pretty fucking funny, he thought, and for the first half hour he was highly amused by his own antics with Chris.

Then, he got to the footage of the second day.  He stopped laughing.  Watching JC interact with Joey suddenly made things not so funny anymore.

“Oh, shit,” he said, even though no one was around to hear him.

“Holy fucking shit.”

 

 

Justin being Justin, he tried to corner JC at every opportunity the next day.  Breakfast, lunch, rehearsal, Justin stuck to JC like glue.

“Goddamn, J, could you give me some SPACE?” JC had finally exclaimed after their light rehearsal.

“Sure, Josh, sure,” Justin had said, handing JC some water.

“What’s with you today, anyway?” JC asked.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Nothing you need to talk about?”

“Nope,” Justin shook his head.

“Then could you leave me alone so I can go shower and take a nap back at the hotel?” JC asked in a completely peevish tone.  He started to walk away back towards the cars.

“Oh, wait, hey, wait, JC!” Justin called after him.

Justin could hear JC’s sigh.  “What?”

“Actually, well, um.  I kinda do have this problem.  Do you think I could talk to you about it?”

Suddenly JC was concerned Josh.  “Okay, Jup.  No problem.  How about you let me take a shower and then meet me in my room?”

“Okay,” Justin said.

“Okay,” JC agreed, and got in one of the cars to head back to the hotel.

“Okay,” Justin said again.  He had no clue what he was going to say to JC later, but he thought at least he had the beginnings of a plan.

 

 

“So, are you in love with Joey or what?” Justin asked as he sat down in the chair in JC’s hotel room.

JC whipped around to face him.  For a second, Justin thought JC might hit him or something.   “EXCUSE ME?!!”

Justin held his ground.  “Are you in love with Joey, or do you just want to sleep with him, or what?”

“JUSTIN!” JC was shouting.

“You should lower your voice,” Justin pragmatically observed.

“You should mind your own business,” JC shot back.

“You should answer my question.” Justin was unperturbed.

“You should . . . Fuck.”  JC sat down on the edge of his bed.  He put his head in his hand, and ran his fingers through his hair.

Justin waited.

“What in God’s fucking name gave you these ideas?” JC finally asked.

Justin shrugged.

JC glared at him.

“Well, last night, I was watching our Making the Video and I saw how you helped Joey out and stuff and how many times you said you loved him . . .”

“I love all of you guys, Justin, and you know they edit the hell out of that shit,” JC interrupted.

“Yeah, I know, but then I got to thinking about how you always sit by Joey at meals and how when he’s been going through this stuff with the baby and all you’ve been listening to him and supporting him and all that shit and then I was thinking about the way you look at Joey sideways when you think he’s not looking and the way you touch his sleeve to get his attention . . .” Justin was finally out of breath.

JC sat in silence for a minute.  Then he flopped back on his back and the bedsprings gave a little.  “When did you get so observant?”

Justin smiled a 500-watt smile.  “I’m just naturally brilliant,” he said. “Sooo . . .”

“So what?” JC’s voice sounded a little muffled.

“So, when are you going to talk to him?”

JC bolted upright on the bed.  “I’m not.”

“Why not?” Justin actually sounded confused.

“Because, J.  Jesus.  It’s complicated.”

“But . . . how long have you felt like this?”

JC sighed. “Forever, it seems like.  But this isn’t some slash fic, Justin.  I don’t just confess my undying love for Joey and he admits he’s loved me all along, too, and then we fuck our brains out and live happily ever after.  I mean, he’s straight, first of all, and not interested in me in that way, second of all, and it would make things complicated in the group, third of all and it just doesn’t work that way.  God. Unrequited love is fine with me.”

“It’s only complicated if you make it that way, C.”

That finally got it out of JC’s mouth.  “He’ll reject me, Justin. And then it’ll be weird, and I don’t want that.”

“You don’t know that.”

JC raised his eyebrows.

Justin stared back.

“You’re not going to stop bugging me unless I do something, are you?”

“Nope.”

“You’re an immature, air headed fuck,” JC said.

“Yep.”

            “I’m not going to talk to him,” JC tried one more time.

            “You could write him a song, or, better yet, a fan fic,” Justin laughed.

            JC looked pensive for a second.

            “I was kidding, Josh,” Justin elaborated, suddenly panicked.  “You can’t do either of those things.  I mean, man, that’s high school shit.  Not even.  Junior high.  Be a man.  Talk to him.  Be. A. Man.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Oh, Jesus, you’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

            “No.”

            “I am so sorry I said that.”

            “I’m gonna talk to him Justin.  It’ll be fine.”

            Justin paused. “Right. I’m sorry I brought it up.”

            “No.  I’m glad you did Justin.” JC smiled.

            Justin couldn’t help it.  He smiled back.  “Okay, ‘C, me, too.  Me, too.”

 

 

 

JC woke up to someone banging on the door at 3:30 in the morning.  He staggered out of bed and answered the door in his “I Heart NY” t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

The door swung open to reveal Joey, eyes glittering, on the other side.

JC became fully awake immediately.

“Hey, JC,” Joey said.

“Hey, Joey,” JC stifled a yawn.

“Sorry to wake you up.”

“S’ok.”

“Can I come in?”  Joey gestured into the darkness of JC’s hotel room with one hand.

“Sure.”  JC opened the door wider and then flicked on a couple of the lights.

When Joey walked in, JC noticed that he was carrying a stack of papers in his left hand.

JC finally knew from personal experience what an “Oh, fuck” moment was.

“I thought you were out clubbing with the guys,” JC said, as casually as possible.

“I was, but then it was three in the morning, and so I came back.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Joey flopped down into a sitting position on JC’s unmade bed.  “Did you leave this for me in my room?”  He held up the small stack of papers.

“Um, yeah.” JC sat down next to his pillows.  He desperately wanted to pick one up and hug it to himself, but he figured that wasn’t very manly, or adult, behavior.

“Where’d you find this?  It’s fan-tas-tic!” Joey exclaimed.

JC was just plain startled.  “Um . . .” he started.

“Is this from Puppies?  Or somewhere else?” Joey continued, without letting JC get a word in.  “I LOVE IT.  You read it, right?”

“Yeah,” JC said.  His heart was pounding in time with the words, he doesn’t think I wrote it, he doesn’t think I wrote it, he doesn’t think I wrote it.  The thing was, after looking in Joey’s eyes, JC didn’t think he was drunk.  Which was too bad, JC thought.

“I love it,” Joey repeated.  “It starts out with you and me on the bus,” Joey continued, as if JC hadn’t read the story.  Or written it.  “And we’re alone, and we’re watching this video, or playing on Playstation, or something, I don’t really remember, and we’re talking, and then, you reach out and put your fingers on my cheek, and I turn into your hand and kiss it, and then we’re kissing—right on the lips!—and then we look into each other’s eyes and end up fucking in your bunk and afterwards we exchange ‘I love yous’.  Isn’t that funny?” Joey laughed.

Joey was laughing, JC thought.  He thought his heart might just be squeezed right out of his chest. “Um, yeah . . . that’s why I wanted you to read it.  It’s funny.”

“It’s funny.” Joey repeated, eyes twinkling.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Yeah,” JC said, before he realized the change in sentence.

Joey noticed JC’s confusion.  “It’s not funny,” he repeated.

“It’s not?”

Joey shook his head.  “You wrote this, didn’t you, JC?”

JC thought he would have flinched, but he didn’t.  All he said was, “How did you know?”

“You wanted me to know.  I recognized lines that I’d also seen in a song you were playing around with writing.”

“Oh.”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say?”  JC didn’t know where his bravery had come from, but he was glad that his courage had yet to desert him.  Before Joey could answer a thought occurred to JC.  “What was that act all about?”

“What act?”

“The one where you come in here to play me, even though you know I wrote the story?”  JC suddenly knew where his courage was coming from—his anger.  He was angry now, even though he knew that would turn to hurt later.

“Lower your voice,” Joey admonished.

“Me?  Lower my voice?  Fuck you, Joey.  I knew you were a lot of things, but I didn’t think you were cruel.” JC spit out as he got up from the bed.  As he walked past Joey, Joey reached out his leg and wrapped his ankle around JC’s.  JC almost fell headfirst to the floor.  Only all the dance practice he’d had lately and Joey’s hand on his forearm kept him upright.  His skin felt burned where Joey touched him.

He wrenched his wrist away.  “Fuck you,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry,” Joey started.  “I . . .”

JC managed to untangle his feet from Joey’s.  “Fuck you.”

“Josh . . .”

Joey stood up.

“Fuck you,” JC said again, trying to move away.

Joey reached out and grabbed the back of JC’s head.

JC struggled a little.  “Fuck you.”

Joey pulled JC’s head to his, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“Fuck you.”  JC said up against Joey’s lips.

Joey kissed JC again, his tongue probing and soft as JC opened his mouth for him.

“Fuck you.” JC whispered when they pulled apart for breath.

“Please do, Joshua,” Joey whispered back.

 

 

Afterwards, they exchanged “I love yous.”

“I think we just had a slash moment,” Joey whispered against the skin in between JC’s shoulder blades, and his arms tightened around his lover’s hips.