Archive of Our Own

There was no way that he could do this. JC stared at the lists on his desk and inwardly groaned. Thirteen flutes, seven saxophones, four trombones, and ten drummers was not a concert band. In fact, it wasn’t much except a cry for Tylenol. His choir lists weren’t much better. Seventy-eight students in the seventh and eighth grade choir, forty-six in the sixth grade. From the look of the list, it was mostly all girls too. There was orchestra, too, and music theory, and JC was ready to bolt for the door before the school year had even begun.

He had picked up teacher certification four years ago when he graduated from college. Now, at 26, he had been forced to fall back on it after many, many setbacks as a film score composer. His electricity had been shut off three times already this year for failing to pay the bills, and in August, he realized that if he actually wanted to continue to live on his own, then he had to get a real job. Teaching had seemed easy, and he already had all the right degrees. Orlando Middle School near Allentown, PA was hiring. Now, looking at the task that lay before him, he was wondering if maybe living in the dark would really be so bad. Thank God he was only planning to do this until he got back on his feet and could get back to LA.

The bell rang and the first kids began to enter the auditorium. First up was grade six choir. The kids were actually kind of cute- still young enough that the first day of school was worth a new outfit, yet still trying desperately to look cool. He noticed they were sitting in little groups, and segregated by sex. Three different elementary schools fed into this one middle school, so a lot of these kids didn’t know each other yet, he supposed. When what he deemed were most of them had arrived, he took a seat on the stage steps, facing his eager young audience.

“Hi. Welcome to Orlando Middle School. I’m Mr. Chasez, and this is Grade Six Choir, so can you all take out your schedules and make sure you’re in the right place?” He smiled and tried not to look nervous.

**

It was complete chaos. He had tried to talk to the students about music, what they liked. So far, all he knew was that they all knew the lyrics to “Hot in Herre”, which was rather disturbing to see such young, preadolescent girls bumping and grinding while singing about taking off their clothes. None of them could read music. They boys were adamant about not singing any “sissy music,” and halfway through the class, three students realized they were in the wrong place.

Two periods later, it was more of the same. The seventh and eighth grade bands rehearsed separately, but he was relieved to find that though oddly numbered as far as instruments went, they had at least basic concepts of music down, and most had continued their lessons over the summer.

By the time lunch rolled around, he was desperate for adult interaction. He entered the teacher’s lunchroom and took his bag from the fridge, sitting down with a few other teachers he vaguely recognized from orientation.

“You’re the new music teacher, Chasez, right?” an older man asked, in between sips of chocolate milk.

JC held out his hand. “Sha-say. But I go by JC. Nice to meet you.”

“Bob Taylor. Sixth grade science, blue team.” Each grade was divided into two teams, color-coded for easy reference. “How do you like it so far?”

JC let out a long sigh. “It’s a lot different than I expected. Are they always this… hyper?”

Bob laughed. “Actually, they’re pretty calm on the first day, usually. Have you taught middle school before?”

JC shook his head. “No. Actually, it’s my first year teaching.”

Bob laughed. “Oh, you’re in for a treat then. Hang on, kid, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

JC looked down at his homemade salad and couldn’t help but fear that Bob was right.

**

He managed to survive the day, and loaded everything up to go home. He struggled to carry his lunch bag, musical instrument sign out slips, “get to know you” sheets the students had filled out for him, and several pieces of music borrowed from the school’s library he was considering for the first concert. While digging for his car keys, he managed to drop everything. It figured, he thought, as he bent to retrieve them.

A shadow fell over the papers littering the ground and a pair of hands reached down to help him gather them up.

“Here, let me give you a hand.” JC glanced up to see a pair of glittering green eyes, attached to a gorgeous blonde man wearing a goofy tie.

“Thanks.” JC took the stack of papers from the other man’s hands, smiling. “I guess I need to get a bag or something.” Suddenly, the day had taken a turn for the better.

“I’m Lance Bass. You’re… I have no idea. You look familiar but I’m all named out for the day.” He had a genuine smile, JC thought. He was a little bit shorter than JC, and a little stockier, but that didn’t take much. JC was commonly compared to a toothpick by those nearest and dearest to him.

“JC Chasez. New music teacher,” JC said. This man was cute, he thought. Very cute.

“Welcome to Orlando, JC. How’d the first day go?”

JC made a face, and Lance laughed. “Don’t worry, it’s not usually this chaotic.”

JC relaxed a little. That was the first piece of truly good news he’d had all day. “Can I take your word for that?” he asked, smiling back.

“Well, I’ve only got two years of experience, but it seems to be the trend thus far. The next few days will be rough, but by Monday things will begin to smooth out.”

“Thank God.” JC said. “So, what do you teach?” he asked, desperate to keep the conversation going.

“Math. 8th Grade red team.” Lance held up a teacher’s edition book to illustrate his point. It was called ‘Introduction to Algebra’, and had a roller coaster on the cover.

“Hey, that’s at King’s Dominion!” JC blurted out, then blushed.

“It is?” Lance looked at the book. “Cool. You’ve been there?”

JC nodded. “Every summer as a kid. We lived in Maryland, it was only a few hours away.”

“Cool. How’d you end up here?” Lance asked. Another group of teachers walked by and he waved as they headed towards their cars.

“I went to school here. UPenn. But I’ve been in California for the past few years.”

“No way! Same here. Well, not California, but UPenn. Cool.”

“Yeah.” They fell into silence together.

“Well, look. I gotta go, cause. I’ve got all this to read. Sort now too.” JC gestured to the pile of papers on his car hood.

“OK. See you around, JC.” Lance hitched his messenger back up on his shoulder and turned down the row of cars.

JC watched him walk for a few seconds before climbing into his own vehicle. As he drove away, he wondered if he would have done better in math if his teachers looked like that. Lance was really attractive. Hot, if it was ok for 26-year-old men to think of other guys as hot. It sounded so barbaric. JC shook his head, as if he could make the silly thoughts go away. There was an annoying voice in the back of his head telling him to forget it. Eye candy, nothing more. The percentage of gay men in education was fractionally low. The percentage of single gay men was even lower. He was sure Lance had some pretty girlfriend waiting at home.

The thought was extremely depressing as he turned into his driveway and bumped along the gravel path.

**

There was a voicemail waiting for him when he got inside. It was Justin, wanting to know how his day went.

JC hadn’t grown up struggling with his sexuality. He’d gone through adolescence as a perfectly heterosexual boy. He’d had girlfriends, even had sex with two of them. It wasn’t fantastic, but he figured it was just because he hadn’t met the right girl yet. Then, during a party his freshman year, a group of naked people had run through the living room of some shabby apartment trying to entice others into joining them in streaking across the campus. He’d taken one look at Nick, a blonde athletic-type of a guy, and something in his brain just clicked “Oh. So that’s what’s been missing.”

He’d met Justin through friends at UMD, where Justin had a basketball scholarship. After a night of hot drunken sex, they’d attempted to form some kind of relationship. It hadn’t worked, but they’d stayed in touch, and Justin was a senior now. JC called him back on his cell, hoping that practice hadn’t started yet.

“Hey! How was the first day?”

“Interesting.” JC kicked off his shoes and plopped down on the futon sofa, currently one of two pieces of furniture in his living room.

“Interesting is what my mom used to make me say when I didn’t like food.”

JC laughed. “Well, yeah, that’s about it. No, man. It’s weird. There’s just so many of them, and they have so much energy.”

“Hey, Nap boy. Welcome to junior high.”

“Fuck off. Seriously, they’re like, bouncing around. Literally. It was all I could do to keep them sitting.”

“That sucks man. Hey, at least you’re getting paid for it.”

“True, true. How goes the hunt for another internship?”

“Shitty. I’ve basically given up.”

“Bummer, man.”

“Britney’s still on me to go work for her dad.”

“The Senator? Cause I can see you dealing with politicians all day.”

“I know, right? Not gonna happen.”

“How is Britney?”

“Studying too much. Enjoying her new boyfriend. How’s your love life?”

“Actually, I met a guy today. Kinda.”

“Where, at school? For serious?” Justin asked.

“Yeah. Well, after school. He teaches math.”

Justin’s voice sobered. “May I remind you that it is a really, really, really fucking bad idea to get involved with someone at work.”

JC sighed. “I know. It’s how you lost your internship. I still say that guy was a prick.”

“Yeah, me too, but what I can do? Anyway, stay away from the cute boy at work, if you wanna keep your paychecks. Wait until June, then bang his bones out.”

“Crude, Justin. Probably smart, but crude.”

*beep*

“Hey man, I gotta beep. Hang on?”

“Nah, I gotta go. Talk to you later.”

It was his mom on the other line, wanting to know how the first day of school went. She was so happy for him, and told him to stay home for the afternoon. He realized why around four thirty, when a giant basket of apples was delivered with a note “for the teacher.” It almost made him cry.

**

By the second day, JC started to match faces to names. There were a million Brittanys and Ashleys and Matthews, but he started to get the more unusual names, so he hoped the others will come soon. He was completely baffled by the seven different spellings of Stephanie, though.

The kids were a little more subdued, which was a relief. They also seemed genuinely happy to be coming to music class. JC was thankful for that. He figured as long as he didn’t yell at anyone, he’d earn cool teacher status by October, which would be nice. Kids behaved for the cool teacher.

He started the choir classes singing scales, and was surprised that there was a few very good singers in the group. On Thursdays, he had all three of his choirs, plus orchestra and theory. The theory class was pretty standard, with a textbook and everything. Choirs, he was gonna have to work for.

Orchestra was a nightmare. There was only one viola player, a boy. A boy named Jake who was flamingly, obviously gay. JC wondered if the boy has realized it yet. It made him feel kind of omnipotent to be able to pick out something like that. Gaydar, he supposed. Of course, any good feeling that brought was erased as soon as the students began to play. It sounded like many, many dying cats, all crying for their immortal souls. It was probably the worst thing he had ever heard. He stopped practice early and had them do some music review. By far, this was going to be the most difficult class.

During his free period, JC rushed off to copy some easy sheet music exercises for his eighth grade choir class.

“Hey, did you see the sign?” Lance stuck his head into the room, and JC turned around to see that gorgeous grin again.

“What sign?” he asked, looking around, suddenly petrified that he’d missed some big instructional sign about working the copier. It’d be just his luck.

“C’mere.” Lance backed into the hallway, and JC followed. Lance pushed the door closed, revealing the sign on the exterior. It read REPRODUCTION ROOM.

JC burst into a fit of laughter. “Oh My God,” he gasped. “Oh my . . .” He dissolved into giggles, joined by Lance. JC could never stop laughing once he started, and every time he’d about get control of himself, Lance would burst out laughing again, starting the cycle over. It was several minutes before both men were composed enough to go back into the copy room. “Who the heck did that?” JC asked.

Lance shrugged. “I think it was maintenance. We all got new signs over the summer. I just. My God, you’d think whoever approved that had never been in a middle school before. I can’t wait until the kids discover it.”

“That’s too funny.” JC turned back to his copier, glad for the little happy spot during his day. He tended to think of days in terms of spots, and recently there’d been more sad or frustrated spots than happy spots. That made this one extra special.

“Yeah. Are you using this machine?” Lance asked, pointing to the high-speed risograph.

“No, here. Just let me . . .” JC picked up a pile of copies resting on top of the machine so Lance could use it.

“Thanks.” Lance set his copies going, then turned and leaned against the machine to talk to JC. “How’s your second day going?”

JC shrugged. “Better than the first, I suppose.”

Lance smiled again. God, JC was loving that smile. He was going to have to find a way to bottle it and keep it in his desk or something.

“That’s good. So, are you living around here then?”

JC nodded, flipping the page over so he could copy the other side. “Yeah. Up in the eastern part of Allentown. You?”

“Yeah, me too, probably not too far from you. Listen, if you need someone to show you around or something, I’d be more than willing.”

JC smiled. “Really? You wouldn’t mind. Cause, like, it took me forty five minutes to find the post office the other day, and I even had Map quest directions. I’m kind of useless with a map; I have to actually see where places are. So, I mean. Yes, that would be great. But you don’t have to.”

“I offered.” Lance reached down to pick up his copies. “Is tomorrow too soon, or am I wrong and you have actually found something to do on a Friday night around here?” JC grinned back.

“Yeah, it seems a little . . . slow. Tomorrow’s cool.” He retrieved his copies, and they stepped out into the hallway together as the bell rang. Students began to flood the corridor, talking and laughing and banging locker doors.

“Wanna meet somewhere? Or, like, just go from here?” Lance had to raise his voice above the noisy hallway clatter.

“Here. Just.” JC struggled not to get carried away in a wave of students. They were half his size, for God’s sake. “Yeah. Here, after school?”

“Cool. See you around, Mr. Chasez.” Lance turned back towards the academic wing, leaving JC smiling in the hall. He’d said his name right.

**

Not much else happened that day. At least, nothing worth noting in JC’s mind, because he was seeing Lance on Friday, even though it positively was not a date and Lance was still most likely straight and JC would not get involved with someone at work.

Day three was Friday. There was always a short week the first week back after summer because of Labor Day. JC had his eighth grade band back again, this time with instruments. There were some talents, some mediocre, and some, well. Some there because it was either band or home ec. Luckily, he had a plan now. By the end of the period, he convinced two of his flutes to ask their parents about switching to clarinet, and a few others ready to try French horn and tuba. He still had ten drummers, much to his chagrin. It seemed beating objects with sticks is very appealing to 13-year olds. He would never understand what would make someone have this job if it wasn’t absolutely financially necessary. Adolescents were strange creatures.

At the end of the day, the art teacher stuck her head into the auditorium. She was in her mid-fifties, and obviously a left over hippie. JC loved her, but didn’t quite knows how to approach her. She was supposed to be his mentor, but so far, hadn’t had much advice for him.

“Don’t stay late on Friday!” she warbled, then disappeared again. Apparently, that’s the advice for the week. He couldn’t agree more.

He was packing up his bag with some music to look over as possible selections when Lance came in through the doors at the back of the auditorium.

“Hey.” His deep voice echoed in the empty room. The acoustics were so good, JC could almost feel the reverberations in his chest.

“Hey. I’m just finishing up here, I’ll be done in one sec.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some bad news.” Lance said, climbing the steps.

JC’s spirits instantly fell. “You can’t make it? That’s OK, man, I appreciate the offer anyway.”

“No, I can still make it, I’ve just gotta. I got suckered into reffing this soccer game this afternoon. I coach the high school team, but they needed someone to do the peewee league game. So, I mean, if you don’t mind waiting, can we meet up later?”

JC smiled. Inside he was doing a happy dance, but outside, he tried to play it cool. “Yeah, that’s fine. Do you want me to come back here, or. . .?

Lance looked at his watch. “I’d really like to go home and shower. Can we meet at Sullivan’s? Do you know where that is?” Sullivan’s was a popular Irish pub/bar on the main road to school.

“Yeah, actually, I do. It’s right next to Dunkin’ Donuts. My morning haven,” JC joked.

Lance made a face. “Eew. Krispy Kreme all the way. Anyway, I’ll meet you there around six-thirty?”

JC nodded. “Great. See you then.” Lance left the way he came, and JC watched his ass until he was out the door. It was probably the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

**

Sullivan’s was crowded when JC arrived, a mostly middle aged group that smelled like department store perfume and cigarette smoke. He didn’t know if they were staying or going, so he only ordered a soda at the bar to wait for Lance.

Lance came in a few minutes later, his hair still wet from the shower. It was spiked up with gel, making him look much younger than his daytime style.

“Wow. You clean up nice.” JC realized he’d never seen Lance without a goofy tie before.

Lance looked down at his outfit and laughed. Tonight, he was wearing an untucked button-down shirt and jeans. He also had on Converse sneakers, in red. “Thanks. You too man.”

JC had debated over and over again what to wear, and finally chose khakis and a blue and white plaid short sleeve shirt. His last thought as he looked in the mirror was “dork!” but now he was glad he went with the outfit.

“So, do you wanna go for the grand tour or stay and have a drink first?” Lance asked.

JC glanced around the bar, trying to decide. When he saw a corner table open up, at the far end from the rock band’s tiny stage, he said “stay,” and pointed toward the table. Lance made his way through the crowd ahead of JC, giving JC a chance to check out Lance’s ass again. He wondered if there was some way to bottle that too, but then again, bottle ass probably wouldn’t be as appealing as bottled smile when one got right down to it.

They got to the table, sat, and a pretty, young waitress came over to take their drink orders. As she left, Lance leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the wall.

“God, I am so exhausted. I always forget how the first week hits you.”

JC bit his lip. “Are you sure you wanna hang out then? I don’t want you to think you have to entertain me if you’re that tired. Go home and sleep or something.”

Lance opened his eyes and gave JC a curious expression. “No, no. Really, I’m glad to be here. You’ll see soon enough. When you spend all of your time with 13-year olds, it’s nice to have adult company. And, well. I’m kinda a loser, cause I don’t have a lot of close friends around here. It’s tough to be a young teacher, cause you can’t exactly go into work with a hangover, you know? It’s not like some desk job where you can just vegetate with a headache. So I don’t get out much, especially since my best friend, Joey, has this girlfriend who considers it a crime not to visit her in the city every single weekend.” He sat up and smiled. “Long story short, this is cool.”

JC smiled. “Long story short, I’m glad I met you cause I was afraid I was gonna have to start hanging out with either the old lady who lives downstairs or get myself a cat. And I hate cats.”

Lance laughed. “Oh, God. Not that.” Their drinks came, and Lance sipped at his Guinness. “God, there’s nothing like an Irish beer in a fake Irish pub.

JC smiled. “Have you ever been to Ireland?”

“Nope. I’ve been saving for a trip, though. I’m hoping maybe next summer, or at least the year after that. Have you been there?”

JC shook his head. “No. I’ve never really had the money to travel. I’ve always spent what I make on music and stuff. Concert tickets, classes, instruments- that kind of thing.”

Lance smiled. “Cool. If that’s what makes you happy, go for it, right? So, I mean, how did you end up teaching?”

JC sighed. He’d hoped to avoid this topic. “It’s kind of a long story. I minored in music ed in college, but never planned on teaching. I’d been in California trying to get composing job. You know, film scores, TV background music, that kind of thing. But it wasn’t really working out, so I needed to get out of LA. I had the degree, so I figured this was something I didn’t need a lot of training for. Plus, it makes my mom really happy to have me closer to home and with ‘stable work.’”

Lance smiled. “I hear that. My mom is still petrified that I’m gonna up and join the space program.”

JC raised his eyebrows. “Space program?”

Lance smiled. “Yeah. I always wanted to be an astronaut. I double majored in astronomy and math in school, and seriously considered joining the Air Force. But, I just really liked working with kids, and decided that space was a better hobby than a career. The percentage rate of actually being an astronaut is so, well, astronomically low, that I didn’t want to spend all that time and energy and then not be able to go. Plus, I’m not exactly Air Force material.”

JC smiled. “Well, you could always just become a millionaire and buy your way on a flight.”

Lance reached into his wallet. JC stared at him puzzled, until Lance pulled out a lottery ticket. “Every payday, man. Someday maybe I’ll actually win something.” JC laughed as Lance put his wallet back into his pocket.”

“So,” Lance said, taking another sip of his beer, “what do you think of Orlando so far?”

“It’s nice. I mean, I don’t have much to compare it to, but the people seem nice.”

“They are, for the most part. Just watch out for Dr. Pearlman. He’s incredibly two faced. You don’t wanna get on his bad side.”

“Really? No one’s ever said bad anything about him.”

Lance sighed. “I bet no one said anything good either, right?” JC thought back, and then nodded. Now that he considered it, the staff he had talked to rarely mentioned the principal. “There’s been some bad stuff. I’m sure you’ll hear all about it if you’re there long enough. He’s just… he has to be right at all times. Only his ideas are acceptable. And if he’s having a bad day, he’ll find a way to take it out on whatever unlucky staff member comes his way first. He actually wrote a poor reference for a teacher who was moving to Virginia last year.”

JC’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding. I didn’t think you could do that.”

Lance nodded, face solemn. “I’d never heard of it before. But he’s caused a lot of problems. He came in at the same time I did, and the teachers have so many issues with him. There’s all kind of union stuff going on. It’s pretty much a mess. You’re best bet is to stay out of his way, always smile and be polite, and never, EVER, confront him in public.”

“Wow. That’s good to know man. God, and I thought this place was all happy go lucky.”

Lance put his hand down, flat on the table. “It can be. It’s the most incredibly place sometimes. The kids are just phenomenal. We’re really lucky; it’s a rural-suburban all white kids, mostly upper class region. There’s no gang violence. There’re very few drugs. We’ve got a great group of kids who not only behave but seem to genuinely care about each other. I did my student teaching in Philly- it was so horrible. This school can be really great, you just have to know how to play the rules in order to make it work.”

JC nodded. His hand was only a few inches away from Lance’s on the table, and he had to stop him self from reaching over and linking their fingers together.

“But, listen. Don’t get all worried. Cause Ms. Mason and Mr. Wright are incredible. They really do their best to work around Dr. Pearlman and make things bearable.”

“They seem really great,” JC said. It was true; both of the school’s vice principals had been very friendly and helpful to him during his first few days.

“They’re so cool. Plus, the kids really like and respect them, which is so crucial to being in administration. Respect especially. Two years ago, my first year, we had this teacher who tried to be the kids’ friend- he never gave homework, anything. He basically didn’t teach, and the kids not only learned nothing, he couldn’t discipline them at all.”

“The first thing I was told was ‘they are not your friends’.” JC picked up his glass and drained it.

“It’s hard. Especially when you know some of them aren’t getting any attention at home. You want to just step in and be brother, parent, friend. It’s really hard.”

“You have kids like that?” JC asked. So far, all of the kids he had encountered seemed really normal, functional.

“There’s a few. The DeGeorges- do you have any of them?” Lance asked. JC bit his lip as he thought back.

“I think so. Katy?” He pictured a short dark haired girl who sang in the choir.

“Yeah. I think there’s one other at the school too. Their parents are going through this huge drawn out custody thing. They’re always being bounced back and forth. And the Whitmores- it’s a foster family thing, where the kids aren’t always treated real well. So there’s a few. You’ll learn who from the other teachers and stuff.” Lance finished his pint, and motioned to the bar. “Enough shop talk. You want another beer?”

JC smiled. “Sure. Let me get it.” He reached for his wallet, but Lance stopped him, placing a hand on his arm. His hand was warm and slightly damp from the condensation on the glass, and shot tingles all the way up to JC’s shoulder.

“This round’s on me. You get the next one.” Lance wove his way to the bar, and waited to catch the bartender’s eye.

JC sat and watched Lance place the order. He had leaned over on the bar, his ass sticking out. JC had to look away, or risk embarrassing himself in public. What was it about this guy? He was the perfect package- intelligent, funny, nice, and incredibly attractive. JC hadn’t felt this kind of instant attraction to anyone before, yet he wasn’t allowed to have this man. It was maddening.

Lance came back with the beers, setting them on the Corona coasters the waitress had left earlier.

“So. You were trying to write music for movies. How come?” Lance asked. JC, startled by the abrupt shift in topic, sat up a little in his chair and leaned forward. He twisted his hand back and forth on the beer bottle in front of him.

“I’ve just always loved making music. I mean, I was your token band geek in high school, you know? Every group, I was in it. I even arranged a piece for the orchestra my senior year. So, I went to UPENN mostly because my mom wanted me to go to an Ivy school, even though their music program’s not great.”

“Yeah, I was kinda wondering about that when you said UPENN. I mean, I think I only ever met two music majors while there. Of course, I also spent a lot of time in the math building, so it’s not surprising, right?”

JC laughed. “Not really, cause I NEVER went in the math building. Anyway, I went to Hollywood for my big break, right? I had all these visions of being the next John Williams. I took odd jobs, sent out demos. Nothing ever really came of it. The most I ever did was write a theme for the local news station.”

“Well, that’s pretty impressive,” Lance said.

JC buried his head in his arms on the table, laughing at himself in embarrassment. “It was four seconds long. It was so pathetic. And it barely paid anything.” He lifted his head. “Eventually I realized I couldn’t make a living doing that and I needed to get a real job or end up on the street.”

“But still. You tried. That’s more than I can say. I took the safe route. I told you I wanted to be an astronaut. At least you went for it. I just kinda said, ‘Oh, well’.”

JC shook his head. “But you never failed. You were smart. I never thought that I wouldn’t succeed.”

The two sat without speaking for a minute. The band had launched into a bad cover of “I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” in the other corner. Without even realizing it, JC began to sing along. When he glanced over and saw Lance staring, he blushed.

“You’ve got a beautiful voice.” JC began to shake his head, but Lance continued. “No, really, you do. Trust me. I was All-State acapella choir in high school. You have a good voice.”

“Really? You sang?”

Lance nodded, smiling. “Yeah. Just choir. I stopped in college cause I just didn’t have time. But I always enjoyed it.”

JC studied Lance. “You must have been bass, right? Wow. That’s awesome. That’s just. Cool.”

Lance tipped his head, looking at JC curiously. “How come?”

JC tried to explain what he was thinking. “There’s just. This is gonna sound dumb. But there’s something about people. Like, those who get it and those who don’t. People who love music usually get it. So, you get it. That’s just. It’s cool.”

Lance smiled. “OK, someone should please tell my ex-girlfriend that, because she was constantly telling me that I just didn’t get it.”

JC paled. Ex-girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend. He’d forgotten that Lance was straight. Or tried to convince himself otherwise. That just. The only thing he could think of was that that just sucked. An Ivy League education and the only phrase coming to his mind was that sucked.

“Hey, man, are you OK? You look really pale.” JC snapped out of his moment of fluster to see Lance staring at him, concerned.

“I think. I think the beers just got to me. I haven’t had anything to drink in a while, and the stress of the week and everything just.” JC tried to babble out something intelligent while his mind tried to process the information of Lance and Straight. He’d told himself this, over and over again in the past three days, yet never quite believed it. It just didn’t seem possible, really.

“Do you wanna go? Are you OK to drive?” Lance looked over, concerned.

“Yeah. I just. I think I need some fresh air.” JC reached for his wallet, but Lance shooed his hand away.

“I got it. I told you. Next time’s on you.” JC nodded, trancelike, and got up to walk outside. Lance followed a few steps behind.

They stood in the parking lot under the streetlights, the cool late summer air creating goosebumps on JC’s arms.

“You sure you’re OK?” Lance asked again. He looked really worried. Great, JC thought. Now he thinks I’m some wimp who can’t hold his alcohol.

“Yeah, I’m really fine. Sorry about that.”

Lance smiled. “It’s OK. I once did a shot at this bar back home and immediately puked it back up all over the place.”

JC scrunched up his face. “Eew, that’s so gross. You must have felt like an idiot.”

Lance blushed a little. “Yeah. Add in the fact that most of it ended up on my girlfriend’s shoes, it was one of my most embarrassing moments. Ever.”

JC took a deep breath. Time to face the beast. “So, does your girlfriend live around here?”

Lance shook his head. “Ex girlfriend.” He kicked a few stones in the gravel parking lot, creating a little pile near his toe. “No, she’s living in New Jersey. We were together in high school, but it didn’t work out. I mean, we tried to keep seeing each other through college. She wanted to be a singer, so we had really different schedules, and she was always traveling to auditions and stuff. In the end, things just didn’t work out. I still talk to her once in a while.”

“Is she a singer?” JC asked. A contact was a contact was a contact, after all.

Lance smiled a huge, satisfied smile. “Oh, sure. She was trying out for all of these Broadways gigs in New York? But, what she ended up with was a gig in a review at Six Flags in Jersey.” He laughed. “I call it sweet revenge.”

JC smiled. “Good. Because if she was working somewhere, I would have to go hunt her down and make her hire me to write songs.”

Lance snorted. “Not unless your songs are about Looney Toons.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Well, you didn’t get your tour, but this was fun.”

JC nodded. “Yeah. It was cool. Maybe another time for the tour.”

Lance smiled in reply. “Definitely. You’re sure you’re OK to drive home?”

JC nodded. “Yeah. I’m really fine. I only had two beers. Moment of freaky dizziness is over.”

“OK, cool. See you Monday, then.” Lance began to walk backward down the aisle of cars. JC raised a hand to say goodbye, and turned towards his own vehicle. Part of him was crushed that Lance wasn’t gay, but a larger part was starting to realize that he’d just made his first friend in Pennsylvania, and that might be more valuable in the long run.

**

The rest of the weekend went by too quickly, and by Monday, JC was back to work again. The whole early morning thing was still a shock to his system, after years of piano gigs in bars that started at eight and went until two am. By the time he used to get up, he’d now already taught four periods.

He was wondering if he could make it until lunch without more coffee when the back door to the auditorium opened. He saw the secretary escort a man and girl down the aisle to the stage.

“Mr. Shasez.” JC groaned internally. He’d already corrected her twice today.

“Hi, Mary. What can I do for you?”

“This is Taylor Kirkpatrick, and her father Chris. She’s just joining the school today and is going to be in the choir. They wanted to talk to you about music lessons.”

JC turned to face the other couple. The girl was beautiful. She had big brown eyes and long dark curly hair drawn back in low pigtails. He smiled at her, and extended his hand to her father.

“Mr. Chasez. Nice to meet you.” He held out a hand to the other man.

“Chris Kirkpatrick. Sorry we’re moving Taylor in late. We just didn’t registered as soon as we expected.”

JC smiled down at Taylor. “Sixth grade, I bet?” She nodded, shyly. “Well, there’s definitely room for you in the choir. Have you sung before?”

She nodded, then looked up at her dad. He smiled at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing in a comforting gesture.

“Taylor’s got a great voice. She did a lot of singing at the children’s choir in her old church.” Taylor kept her eyes on JC while her dad talked, and he couldn’t help but feel that he was being sized up.

“That’s great,” he said warmly. “We could use some talented singers in our choir.”

“Taylor, honey.” Chris released his daughter and handed her the paper work he had carried in from the office. “Why don’t you head on to class, ok? You don’t want me embarrassing you any more today.”

The girl grinned. “You won’t forget to pick me up, will you?” Her voice was quiet, but had a beautiful, rich tone. JC bet she was a tremendous singer.

“No, I won’t forget to pick you up. I need someone to play Playstation with after school.”

She rolled her eyes, and hoisted her backpack higher on her shoulder. “Two thirty. Out front. DON’T be late.”

As she turned to head out of the auditorium, Chris turned his attention back to JC. He waited until Taylor was gone before speaking again.

“I wanted to ask you about vocal lessons. We just moved into the area and I wanted to get them started up again right away.”

JC reached over his desk to grab the list of private music instructors. “I’m new here too,” he explained, “but anyone on this list is approved by the school, so it’s a good place to start.”

Chris scanned down the list. “Do you have any idea what lessons cost?”

JC shrugged. “Most are around forty dollars a half-hour.”

Chris let out a low whistle, and then handed the paper back to JC. “That’s. I just can’t afford that right now.

JC looked at him puzzled. “It’s not really that expensive. Closer to the city would cost a lot more…”

Chris shook his head. “It’s. . . Taylor used to live with her mother, out in the western part of the state. Mid-summer, her mom up and left. Taylor was home alone for two days before she called me and said her mom had gone missing. She was afraid she’d died. My ex called a few days later to say she was in jail in Montana for grand theft auto or some shit. I didn’t know how unstable things had gotten, since she had sole custody. Anyway, I stupidly paid the bail, she skipped town again, and I was left nearly broke, and now had sole financial responsibility for Taylor. I’m a carpenter, and I just. After getting a bigger apartment and everything, money’s tight. I can’t give up that much a week for lessons.”

JC stood, stunned. “I’m sorry. I mean, poor kid.”

Chris nodded. “I’ve tried to make things easier for her. She spent a lot of time in the shop with me this summer, so I wanted her to do some fun stuff now that school’s started again.”

JC looked sideways, then back again. “Well, look. I can. If she really wants to take lessons, I can coach her. For a while, anyway, until she surpasses my ability.”

Chris shook his head, slowly. “Thank you, no. We’ll just wait until there’s more money.”

“No, really.” JC’s heart had gone out to this young girl. It was surprising. He’d never thought of himself as one of those people who connected with kids. He was only doing this to get some extra money.

Something about the tone in JC’s voice made Chris reconsider. Chris ran a hand through his short hair. “It would mean a lot to us. And I will find a way to pay you back.”

JC waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Taylor later, pick a day.”

Chris held out his hand, and they shook on the deal. “Sounds good. I really appreciate this man, you have no idea. And I promise, I’m not just saying she’s talented because I’m her dad or anything. She’s really, really good. Brings me to tears, sometimes. In a good way.”

**

JC found out the next day that Taylor really COULD sing. She blew him, and most of her classmates, away during choir rehearsal the next day. They were doing a simple three-part gospel song and her voice carried above the rest like light piercing through darkness.

The second week wass remarkably better than the first. Either the kids put on a great façade the first few days, or they were suffering from summer mind lapses. Whatever the case, they moved ahead by leaps and bounds, and actually started making music by the end of the second week of school. JC still hated mornings, but found it wasn’t as hard to get out of bed when he didn’t dread work quite as much.

His only problem was the theory class. It was incredibly boring. He was even bored. The textbook was written over the kids’ heads, so they didn’t even bother doing the reading he assigned. He put a post-it note in his car, reminding him to rent Mr. Holland’s Opus over the weekend. Maybe he’d find some inspiration there.

Thursday night, he was sitting on the sofa eating Spaghetti O’s when the phone rang. It’s Tony, a guy he knew from school. He had a gig in Philly over the weekend and begged JC to come.

“Really, man. Come on. You need to get out of the sticks and back into civilization for the weekend.

JC was instantly very jealous, and surprised by that. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed playing his own music. He agreed to got to go.

During lunch on Friday, Lance ducked into the teacher’s room and scanned the faces there before settling on JC and smiling. JC smiled back, surprised to see Lance. They had different lunch periods. They’d run into each other a few times during the week, but it had been a busy time for all of the teachers, so JC and Lance hadn’t talked much.

“Hey. I was wondering if you want that tour tonight.” Lance leaned down on the table, smiling at JC. His tie has math symbols on it today.

JC smiled back and was about to agree when he remembered Tony’s show.

“I can’t tonight. I’ve got a friend who’s got this show in the city, and I promised I would go,” JC said, apologetically.

“Oh.” Lance stands up straight, and put his hands in his pockets. “That sounds cool. Some other time then.”

“You can come, if you want.” JC blurted out quickly.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

JC nodded enthusiastically. “Absolutely. It’s a rock/blues thing in a club, so dress in whatever you wear for that. I think the only code in no jeans or sneakers.” Lance nodded in response.

“Cool. You’re sure it’s OK if I go?”

JC rolled his eyes. “Tony’ll probably need all the extra bodies he can get.” Lance smiled.

“OK. I’ve gotta get back, my kids are in an assembly that’s probably almost over.” He turned, but then did a 360 to face JC again. “Want me to meet you here, after school?”

JC bit his lip, thinking. “Do you think you can give me really good directions to your place? I can pick you up on the way. We have to leave about six, if that’s ok.”

Lance nodded. “I’ll write them out from Sullivan’s and put them in your mailbox, OK? It’s not hard.” He was still smiling as he left. JC picked up his apple and took a bite. The other teachers he’d been sitting with smiled at him, in that weird way old people do when they think they know something. He shrugged it off and took another bite of the fruit.

**

JC only makes one wrong turn on his way to Lance’s that night. He pulled up in front of a three-story house, similar to the one he lived in. He could see Lance watching from the third story window, then the lights went out, and a few moments later, Lance exited from the front door.

JC smiled as Lance climbed into the car. He was wearing some kind of intoxicating cologne, something that made JC think of cold winter nights sitting by the fire. JC turned down the radio volume so they could talk as he pulled away from the house.

“Alright. Just tell me the quickest way to get to the highway, and I can get there with no problem.”

As Lance gave him direction, JC watched him out of the corner of his eye. He had his hair all spiky again, which made JC smile. He forced himself to pay attention to the road as they drove out of Lance’s neighborhood onto the highway.

“Thanks so much for inviting me to this. I haven’t been into the city in forever.”

“No problem,” JC replied. “I hope you like it. Tony’s incredible, man. If he wasn’t so dead set against “the man,” he’d probably have a record deal by now. Instead, he’s just doing club gigs when he can get them, and bartending the rest of the time.”

“I mean, this probably doesn’t apply to you, cause you’ve done it and stuff, but sometimes I wish I had that lifestyle, at least for a few years. I just feel so old sometimes.” Lance tapped his fingers on his knee in time with the music.

“It’s…” JC struggled for a way to explain it. “It’s kinda romanticized, I think. It’s not very glamorous when you’re living it. Not being able to pay bills, worrying about whether you’ll get enough hours to make rent this month.”

Lance shrugged. “I guess. I mean, being an explorer in uncharted territory sounds awesome too, but I’m sure after a month with no electricity, no shower, no toilet paper, that you’d be ready to give it all up for a desk job in an instant.”

JC laughed. “It’s the little things, you know?”

“Absolutely,” Lance said aimlessly. “Absolutely.”

The mix tape JC had playing suddenly switched to a David Bowie song, and he groaned inwardly. He’d meant to find something more manly to play for the trip, but had completely forgotten.

“Sorry. Here, let me…” he reached down to fast-forward, but Lance stopped him.

“No! Wait. I mean, I love that song.”

JC smiled. “No, that’s cool. Me too.” They sat and listened. It wasn’t long before they were both singing along. “It's the terror of knowing what this world is about. Watching some good friends screaming `let me out.’ Pray tomorrow takes me higher. Pressure on people, people on streets.”

They arrived at the club a few minutes before the show began. Tony was setting up the mic on the tiny stage in the middle of the high-top tables. JC handed Lance some money, “my treat this time,” and let him get the drinks while he said hello to Tony.

His friend watched JC weave his way through the crowd and wrap him in a manly hug, pats on back included.

“Hey man.” JC released his friend and leaned back against the piano. He stumbled as it started to roll, causing a few people sitting nearby to laugh, Tony included. Tony reached to reset the piano as JC stood, blushing, under the red and purple stage lights.

“Nice of you to come and wreck my show before it even begins. Takes a real friend to do that.”

“Shut up.” JC blushed furiously, wishing the stage would open up and envelope him.

“Who’s the guy?” Tony asked, casually, as he went back to working with the microphone stand.

“What guy?” JC asked, looking around.

Tony rolled his eyes. “The blonde guy you came in with and who is currently buying your drinks.”

“Oh.” JC smiled. “He’s a guy I work with. At the school.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony looked up from his kneeling position and smiled, squinting into the lights. “Anything going on with you two?”

JC shook his head. “He’s straight.”

Tony raised an eyebrow as he stood up to face JC. “You sure about that?”

“He has an ex-girlfriend.” JC saw Lance searching for him, so he raised a hand and waved him over.

“Honey, so do you.” Tony smiled as Lance approached. Lance handed a beer bottle to JC, then wiped the condensation on his pants before reaching out to Tony. “Hi, I’m Lance.” He said in a friendly manner.

“Tony. Thanks for coming.” They shook hands.

“I’m glad JC invited me. This is a cool place.” It was a different kind of club, a rather upscale establishment with high tables and a warm, moody ambiance. The conversations were loud over the busy jazz playing from speakers set around the bar.

“Yeah, it’s cool. Plus, they pay.” Tony hoisted his guitar and began to warm up.

“Well, listen, we’re gonna go get seats. We’ll see you after the show?” JC asked.

“Sure. It’ll be late though. I’ll understand if you hafta bail early.” JC nodded, the placed a hand in the small of Lance’s back, guiding him away to a table. Tony watched them go, shaking his head.

“Straight, my ass,” he mumbled, then resumed tuning his guitar.

**

They stayed until well past midnight, when the bar was closing up. JC had asked numerous times if Lance had wanted to go, but he had insisted that he was having a great time and wanted to stay for the rest of the set. By the time the music had ended, the bar was practically empty, the lights were on, and the two men were once again standing by the stage talking to Tony.

“That song, man. She’s True? That was amazing. I just. You really wrote that?”

Tony smiled, soaking in the praise. “I write everything I sing. Well, except for the stuff I steal from C, there.”

Lance turned to JC. “You wrote some of that?”

JC blushed, shaking his head. “No. Not really. Just a few chords.”

“Don’t let him fool you, man.” Tony snapped the clasps on his guitar case, and stood up, slinging it over his shoulder by the faded blue and orange strap. “He’s better than he thinks.”

Lance raised his eyebrows, impressed. “It was great man. I don’t know why you didn’t have a million offers in LA. That song was so… passionate.”

Tony laughed as JC continued to turn a funky shade of maroon. “Ignore him, man,” he told Lance. “JC could never handle praise very well. He turns into this pomegranate head.”

Lance and JC both stared at Tony. “Pomegranate head?” JC sputtered, and Tony just smiled and readjusted the guitar strap on his shoulder.

“Yeah. Exactly the color of a pomegranate. Are we eating, or do you have to get back?”

JC looked at Lance, who shrugged. “I could eat,” Lance said, and Tony slung an arm around his shoulders, guiding him towards the exit. JC had no choice but to follow.

“You’re a good influence on C,” Tony was saying when JC caught up. “Usually he just wants to go home and sleep.”

JC thought about protesting, but really. Tony was right.

“And he never gets into the city anymore. He’s been back in Pennsylvania for three whole weeks and this is the first I’ve seen him.”

Lance glanced back over his shoulder and smiled at JC, who made a “talk, talk, talk” motion with his hand. Lance smiled and nodded, then turned his attention back to Tony, who was still chattering away.

It was nearly four by the time they arrived back at Lance’s house.

“I had a really great time tonight, JC. Thanks.”

“I’m glad.” JC hit the unlock button so Lance could get out of the car.

Lance paused, his hand on the door handle. “It’s really cool to have someone to hang out with. I mean, from work. I’ve felt really out of place there over the past few years. I’m so much younger than everyone. Some of them have been working there for longer than I’ve been alive. So, like I said, I’m really glad you came to Orlando.”

JC smiled at him. He wished he could lean over and kiss Lance. He really did. “Me too. I’m glad I came.”

“Good night, JC,” Lance said. He climbed out of the car. JC waited for him to get in the front door. Lance turned and waved a little as JC drove away. All the way back to his house, he chanted “straight, straight, straight” to the squeak of the tires.

**

“Mr. Chasez!”

JC turned to see three of his seventh grade choir students running down the hall. He smiled warmly as they approached, struggling to run while carrying overstuffed backpacks.

“Are you gonna chaperone the dance this weekend?” One of the girls, Julie he thought, asked, grinning at him. The others looked up with big, expectant eyes and smiles.

“I don’t know,” he responded. “It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“You should,” one of the other girls piped up. “It’s hella fun. Plus, it’s music, you’re the music teacher…” she gestured with her hands expectantly, as if JC would have to be an idiot not to make the connection.

The homeroom bell rang, and JC promised to think about it. As they ran giggling down the hall, he saw Mr. Wright coming at him from the opposite direction.

“Someone’s got a fan club.” He smiled and tapped his walkie-talkie in his palm.

“They want me to chaperone the dance,” JC said.

“Ah.” The vice principal smiled knowingly. “Are you gonna?”

“I don’t know. What does it involve?”

The older man laughed. “Standing around all night, making sure the kids aren’t sneaking off into corners. It can be fun. It’s a good way to get to know the students.”

JC shrugged. “I’ll have to think about it. I don’t really know what my plans are yet.” He was hoping for another night out with Lance. Then he wondered if Lance would be at the dance too. He seemed to be really involved in the stuff around the school.

The walkie-talkie went off, calling Mr. Wright away, and JC continued on to the office. There was a ton of junk mail in his mailbox. He wondered vaguely if there was anyplace left in the world that was safe from junk mail. Maybe Antarctica, he thought, as he threw away a notice about raising money for his school’s music program by selling candy bars. Thanks, no. There was another notice in there about PDPs, which sounded very confusing. He’d have to ask his mentor about it later. If he could find her.

On Wednesday, he volunteered to fill in for lunch duty, which earned him the hearty thanks of one of the sixth grade teachers. The kids were running around like crazy, and he finally realized why they’re always so hyper after lunch. Most of them were eating nothing but sugar and pizza, and drinking a lot of Coke, even though they’re not supposed to have soda in school.

The best part about lunch duty, he learned, was listening to the kids’ conversations. He picked up snippets of the students’ chatter as he wandered between the tables. One group was talking about the Lord of the Rings sequel that’s opening soon; another was engaged in a heated arm wrestling match. He stopped to lean against a wall by a group of blonde-haired, thin girls. They were giggling madly over something. His ears perked up.

“Oh my god. He’s sooooo cute.”

“I know. And he’s not married.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s not wearing a ring.”

“So? My dad doesn’t wear a ring.”

“He’s not. Trust me. Plus, I heard him talking to Mr. Clarkson about a date he had last weekend.”

“Really? I wonder what his girlfriend’s like?”

“You just wanna be his girlfriend.”

JC wondered who they were talking about.

“Nu-uh. He’s, like, way to old. I just wanna, you know. Admire him from afar.”

“Afar, right. That’s why you sit in the front row in math.”

“Shut u-up.”

“Jenna and Mr. Bass, sittin’ in a tree….”

JC had to hide a smile. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had a crush on the math teacher. He wondered about Lance’s date from last weekend. It must have been Saturday.

The girls switched topics, and he began to wander again. He saw a group of guys in a corner table laughing rambunctiously, and he wandered over to see what was going on. Jake, the student he’d identified as flamingly gay on the first day, was hurrying away from the table, as the guys continued to laugh. JC was about to go over and find out what had happened when he saw a cupcake go flying.

A boy was about to retaliate, and thinking on blind instinct, JC walked over and sat down at an empty seat at the end of the table.

“Did I ever tell you about the massive food fight we had at college? It was crazy. There was this huge debate about funding between the guys and girls athletics teams, and both of them were really on edge, so when one of the guys on the track team made some comment in the dining hall, everyone just went crazy. Some girl actually picked up a whole tray of mashed potatoes and starting flinging fistfuls across the room. It went on for almost twenty minutes, and everyone was just covered in juice, and food, and ice cream. It was total madness. They had to clean up the entire dining hall afterwards, and the school wanted to press charges for vandalism. So, anyways. Yeah.”

The kids sat, and stared at him. The projectile cupcake sat on the table. Finally, one of the kids muttered “OK, man.” Not really knowing what had just happened, JC got up and walked away, dazed.

As the kids were filing out, Mr. Wright approached him. “I don’t know what you did over there, but it was ingenious. Those kids were ready to explode.”

JC shook his head. “I don’t know what I did either, but thanks.” Maybe he was getting the hang of this teaching thing after all.

On the way back to his classroom, he stopped into the guidance office to mention the incident with Jake. They promised to look into it, but three days later, he saw Jake walking quickly down the hall, practically in tears. He sighed. Poor kid.

Lance caught up with him by the mailboxes on Thursday morning.

“Hey! I’ve been looking for you all week,” he said, setting down a box of calculators.

JC smiled back. “I’ve been around. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if Tony sells CDs of his stuff. I’ve had that song ‘Twenty Something’ in my head all week!”

JC laughed. “Sure. I’m sure he’d give you one, you wouldn’t have to pay for it.”

“No way,” Lance said, shaking his head. “I wanna support the starving artist cause.”

Which was another reason JC could be in love with this man. “OK. Here.” He scribbled down a phone number on the back on an envelope- more junk mail- and handed it to Lance. “That’s Tony’s number, just call and he’ll get you a CD.”

Lance tucked the enveloped into his bag. “Thanks. Hey, are you going to the dance on Friday?”

JC stared, shocked, then he realized that Lance meant as a chaperone. He was lost for a minute. Flashbacks to his own junior high days.

“Um, I don’t know. I mean. I hadn’t really decided.” Yup, he was acting like a middle schooler.

“You should,” Lance urged. “It’s a trip. The kids are so funny, and it’s an easy way to win points with the administration.”

JC nodded. “OK. Sure, why not?”

Lance grinned back at him. “Cool. Hey, we can go out and get a beer after? I mean, unless you have other plans.”

JC shook his head. “Not unless you count sleep.”

“Tony made my promise not to let you sleep too much,” Lance replied. He laughed at JC’s scowl, then brushed by him to leave the tiny mailroom. Again, JC felt the tingles, like the first night at Sullivan’s. Straight, straight, straight, he chanted silently. It was almost becoming his mantra.

**

Loud, was JC’s first thought as he walked into the gym. The lights were dimmed already, and a few kids had already arrived. There was a strobe light going in the corner, and the doors were propped open to let a little bit of light onto the dance floor. He spotted Lance right away, helping the DJ set up the fancy colored lights.

“YOU MADE IT!” Lance yelled at him when he walked over. Yelled, yet JC could barely make out the words.

“WHAT IS THIS MUSIC?” JC asked. It was some kind of rap that sounded vaguely familiar.

“EMINEM,” Lance yelled back, and JC could see he was laughing again as JC made a face. Lance pointed over to the doorway, and as they moved away from the speakers, Lance said, “I know. It’s not my favorite either, but the kids love it.”

“Is this what it’s gonna be all night?” JC asked, wide eyed. He had gone to dances in middle school, but obviously, he had forgotten what they were like.

“Pretty much. They’ll do a few slow songs later on, and most of them will be spent with a group of girls trying to get her friend to dance with a guy, dragging the boy over, et cetera, et cetera.”

“Cool.” JC looked around. “What do we have to do?”

“Grab a corner and stick close to it. Don’t let kids alone in the dark. Then, enjoy yourself.”

JC could handle that. He chose a corner far away from the speakers. Even so, he could feel the bass vibrating in his chest.

It wasn’t long before the gym was full and the kids were standing around. Lance came by at one point and stood with him.

“Don’t they dance?” JC asked.

“Eventually.” Lance smiled. “Wanna get them started?” he asked, and started to move to the music. JC shook his head, grinning.

“No way.”

Lance laughed. "You’re loss.” He moved over towards a group of girls, who giggled as he tried to coerce them to dance with him, then acted broken-heated when he turned them down.

JC spent quite a bit of the night just watching Lance. He was completely at ease with the students. He flirted with the shy, awkward girls the same way he did the popular ones. He high-fived the guys, and even sat down at the wallflower section of the bleachers and played a complicated card game with them by flashlight for a while. He floated from one group to the next, and even when he would tap two students on the shoulder for dancing too close, he did it with a smile so that when the two pulled apart, they weren’t glowering at him, but laughing. It was really amazing. He even dragged a bunch of boys onto the dance floor and tried to teach them the electric slide. Unfortunately, he didn’t know it himself, so they ended up bumping into each other.

Halfway through the song, Lance turned to him and screamed “Mr. Chasez! Help! Do you know how to do this?”

JC, rather reluctantly, pulled himself away from the wall and strolled over to the group in the back of the line. He waited until the next round started and then joined in, shouting out the movements as he went through. By the end of the song, most of the boys were going through the motions with him, including Lance. A few kids erupted into applause as the music ended, and Lance grabbed his hand and took a few Broadway bows.

“Thank you, thank you. Mr. Chasez and I will be available for autographs after the show.” The next song was a slow one, so the kids began their complicated mating ritual while JC and Lance faded into the background.

“Thanks man. I’ve been trying to get those guys out dancing all night, and then I totally didn’t know that dance. Did they change it? I used to know it.”

JC laughed. “They change it every month, I think. I can’t believe they’re still doing it.”

Lance nodded. “You’re a great dancer. Did you have to do that in LA?”

JC shook his head. “I was on a dance team as a kid. It was very geeky, I assure you.”

Lance raised his hand. “Hello, math club. You don’t have to tell me about geeky.” JC giggled, and Lance hung his head sheepishly. “But look at us now. Geeks no more. You should come line dancing with me sometime. You’d be good.”

JC wrinkled his nose. “Line dancing? As in, country western?”

Lance backed away. “Oh, don’t tell me you don’t like country. Seriously?” he asked, when JC didn’t reply. “Oh, man. We have GOT to fix that.”

JC snorted. “Whatever, Mississippi boy.”

“Damn straight,” Lance said.

The rest of the dance went quickly, and soon the lights were coming back on. The students moaned and groaned, and Lance and JC somehow earned curb duty, watching to make sure all of the kids got picked up.

Jake was out there with three girls, when the pack of boys approached him.

“Hey Jake, did you dance with any boys tonight?” one taunted.

“Shut up, Alex.” One of the girls jumped to her friend’s defense, but three of the less popular girls were no match for this group.

“Why? What, are you in love with him and mad cause he’s a fag?”

The word caught JC’s attention, and he turned away from the side parking lot he was monitoring to see what was going on at the front of the building. Lance was already on his way over to the group. JC hurried to his aide.

“Hey, guys. What’s going on?” JC was fuming, but Lance approached calmly.

“Nothin'.” The bullies soon scattered, taking off towards an SUV that just pulled into the parking lot.

Lance turned to address Jake and his friends. “Were they bothering you?” he asked. Slowly they each turned their heads.

“No. Not really. They’re just being dumb,” said the girl who had stood up for Jake before. JC hung back, watching.

Lance looked directly at Jake, who was staring down at the ground. “Hey Jake,” he said lightly, and waited until the boy looked up. “Can you believe how jealous those guys were that you were out here with three girls and they didn’t even get someone to dance with them tonight?” The young boys face, which had been so sad, broke out into a huge smile.

Lance grinned in return. “You’re just the stud of the night.” The girls giggled, Jake giggled, and Lance walked away smiling, satisfied. A few minutes later, all of the kids had been picked up and Lance led JC out of the parking lot and down the road towards Sullivan’s.

The pub was less crowded than the last time they were there together. They easily found a table away from the band, who was covering 80s hair bands tonight. It didn’t fit in the homey Irish décor of the pub.

“So, what did you think of your first dance?” Lance asked, as they waited for the waitress to come by and take their orders.

“It was fun,” JC answered. “I think my ears are still ringing, though.”

Lance laughed, a rich, deep tone. “It’s crazy loud at those things.”

JC fiddled with the salt shaker, making it waltz around the table. “You were really great with Jake in the parking lot. I’m glad you got there first, cause I was ready to rip those kids a new one.”

Lance just shrugged in reply. “Kids are cruel. I feel for Jake, I really do. He gets it a lot.”

“He’s pretty… flamboyant,” JC noted. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so young so clearly...well, you know.” He gestured with his hand, hoping Lance was picking up on where he was going.

“Me neither, although some of the other teachers swear they’ve seen worse.” Lance looked up as the waitress came to take their drink orders. They each got a beer, Lance his usual Guinness and JC a Yingling Lager, one of the few things he had really missed about Pennsylvania. Surprisingly, the drinks came back almost right away.

“I feel for the kid,” Lance said, as the waitress walked away. “I remember what it was like, and I just can’t help but sympathize with the poor kid.”

JC nodded. “Yeah, junior high was pretty miserable for everyone, I suppose.” He had his own share of horror stories, ranging from teasing to one unfortunate incident that involved seeing if the skinny boy would fit in a locker that resulted in a dislocated shoulder.

“Yeah, probably,” Lance agreed. “But especially when you’re trying to figure out your own sexuality. That was hell,” he said, absently, lost in thought and memory.

JC nearly choked on his beer, and Lance realized what he said. He blushed, staring down at his hands, twisting them around the bottom of a glass. “Which is my awkward way of accidentally coming out to you.”

JC struggled to regain his composure. “I. . . I thought you had an ex-girlfriend,” he said, pinning Lance with his eyes.

Lance shifted uncomfortably under the stare. JC’s brilliant blue eyes held steady. Lance sent up a silent prayer that this wasn’t going to ruin the one friendship he’d managed to make in the two years since he began working at Orlando.

“I do. I’m bi. I hope, I mean. I hope that’s not a problem or anything cause I like you. I mean, not like, I like… you. But you know. Friends.” He met JC’s heavy gaze with his own piercing stare, holding his breath until JC let out a long sigh and began to laugh.

“It’s... OK, why are you laughing?” Lance looked hurt, and JC attempted to settle himself down.

“It’s just. OK. I just. I’m.” JC took a big breath, and started to laugh again. “I’m gay.”

Lance widened his eyes. “You are? You’re not just…” He was cut off by JC rapidly shaking his head, his slightly curly hair bouncing back and forth.

“No, no. I’m totally gay. And I just. I was so petrified to tell anyone here. I’m not, like, closeted, but I was afraid that it wouldn’t be a good thing for people at school to know, you know?”

Lance nodded. “Most of the people know about me. Most don’t really like it.”

“I just... wow.” JC dragged a hand over his face and grinned. “I kinda wondered when I met you, but when you said you had an ex-girlfriend, I figured you were straight and I was just off.”

Lance laughed. “I gotta admit, I should have thought. Man, I have the suckiest sense about these things.”

“I’m just so glad...” JC let his voice trail off, and Lance looked at him curiously, raising his eyebrows.

“About what?”

“That I’m not the only one.” JC smiled at Lance, who grinned in return.

“Do you know your eyes squeeze up when you smile?” Lance asked.

JC bugged his eyes out really wide, causing Lance to laugh again. “They do?”

“You’re such a dork,” Lance teased. JC fell into an easy laughter with his friend, feeling the joy spreading throughout his entire body. That was it for the topic of sexuality for the night, but JC couldn’t help but leave the bar hoping that something more might come of their friendship.

**

The next weeks came and went. JC settled into the swing of things, and soon the five thirty a.m. alarm wasn’t quite so jarring, though he didn’t think he’d ever actually like getting up that early. He had picked out some music for his groups to perform at the Christmas concert and begun to work through them. The ensembles were making progress, and he could tell that he was getting better at expressing his own opinions to them, explaining what they needed to do.

One highlights of his weeks were his Tuesday night voice lessons with Taylor Kirkpatrick. She had an amazing voice, one he knew needed a professional coach soon. She loved gospel, so he hunted up different tunes for her and helped her develop her improvisation skills, so that she could make up her own riffs and wails to the background CD he burned for her.

After a lesson in early October, he waited with her outside the school building until her father arrived.

“Are you married?” she asked, balancing on the edge of the curb.

He shook his head negatively. “Nope. Are you?”

She giggled and rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, of course.” She stopped bouncing on the curb and looked up at him curiously. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Again, JC shook his head. “Nope. No girlfriend. Are you interested?”

She scrunched up her nose at him. “Nah, I like blondes.”

Me too, he thought, and smiled to himself. His thoughts drifted back to Lance. They’d gone out for drinks a few more times since the big “coming out” night, but nothing had happened. JC didn’t really mind it though. It’s funny, he thought. When he thought Lance was straight, he couldn’t think of anything except that he was falling in love with him. Now, he was just enjoying having Lance as a friend. It was a weird, weird twist of events, but it somehow made sense, so JC wasn’t complaining.

“How come?” Taylor’s voice shocked him out of his reverie, and he looked over to see her back to balancing on the edge of the curb again, leaning dangerously far backward. He stepped closer so he could grab her if she fell.

“How come what?” he replied.

“How come you don’t have a girlfriend?”

He smiled a bit. One-track mind, he thought. “No girl would put up with me.” Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“What do you mean? Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Taylor kept staring, and he laughed. He reached out a hand and hauled her forward so she was standing, not leaning. “I think any woman would take one look at my apartment and run away.”

“You’re messy?” Taylor was just a bunch of questions today. “My dad is soooo messy. He leaves stuff everywhere. I keep having to remind him to clean and stuff. Someday he’s gonna lose something and then he’ll learn to be neat.”

JC laughed. “No, I’m not messy. I just don’t have a lot of furniture. I kinda live off of the floor.”

Taylor, having abandoned the curb, was now walking the lines of the sidewalk like a tightrope. “Really? Like, camping?”

JC laughed. “Yup. But indoors. I have a fold-out sofa and a piano. And a folding chair.” He was proud of the folding chair. It was the only piece of furniture he’d bought since arriving in Pennsylvania. The sofa he’d stolen from his mom.

Her eyes widened. “Wow. No table or anything?”

He shook his head. “Nah. So, no woman would put up with me because they’d have to eat on the sofa, and girls don’t like that, do they?”

She shrugged. “I do it sometimes, but just, like, popcorn when we’re watching a movie.” She turned and pointed to the headlights pulling into the school driveway. “That’s my dad.” Taylor grabbed her backpack and waited until the van had stopped before jumping in. She called her goodbyes, and Chris waved to JC before driving away.

The next morning, JC had a note in his mailbox asking him to meet with Dr. Pearlman during his free period. He knew that he had some kind of evaluation planned, so he packed up all of his lesson plans and headed off to the principal’s office. He was there five minutes early, but ended up waiting for twenty minutes before he saw the overweight, balding man enter the main office and head back to where JC was sitting.

“Mr. Shasez.” JC groaned inwardly. He followed Dr. Pearlman into the office, and closed the door behind him, as instructed.

“How do you think things are going so far?” the principal asked, heaving his large body into a chair across from where JC sat, leaning with one elbow resting on the back of the chair.

“I think they’re going pretty well. The groups are sounding better every day, and I think that by the concert they’re gonna be in real great shape.” He smiled a little, and tried not to look nervous. He knew that things were going really well, and kind of thought the principal might be giving him some kind of praise. “I’ve got the lesson plans here, with the frameworks and everything. I’ve even been working with multiple intelligences…”

“Yes, that’s nice,” Dr. Pearlman cut him off. “I received a rather disturbing phone call from a parent this morning,” the principal said, holding his casual sitting pose. “This parent- and I don’t feel comfortable saying who it was- said that you were teaching a Christmas song- I think it was Ave Maria- to the choir.”

JC nodded hesitantly, not sure where this was going. “Yes, we’ve begun working it in the eighth grade choir. It’s got some nice solos for a few students, and it’s a good piece cause it doesn’t have any low parts. We’re kind of short of bass singers,” he said, smiling.

Apparently, the older man didn’t get the joke. “Mr. Shasez, are you aware of the U.S. Constitution, amendment one?” The principal was nearly sneering now, which made JC’s skin crawl.

“I... yes?” This was not going to end well. He could tell.

“Mr. Chases, the United States Constitution calls for the separation of church and state. That means that you cannot teach a religious song in a public school.”

“Dr. Pearlman, almost every school…”

“We are not almost any school, Mr. Shasez. And this parent was very adamant that her son would not sing a Christian song. We must abide by the wishes of the parents.”

JC scratched his head. This would mean reworking almost the entire concert. “What if we make some kind of disclaimer, saying we’re not promoting the religion, just celebrating… our rich musical heritage?”

The principal shook his head and leaned forward. “Mr. Shasez, I don’t think you’re getting the message here. Let me try to say it another way. Our ensembles will not perform any music that sends out a religious message, be it Christian, Jewish, Hindu- nothing. Do you understand?”

JC nodded dumbly.

“Good. I hope this issues doesn’t come up again, Mr. Shasez. I feel that you have the potential to become a good teacher. You just need to learn to be more sensitive to the students.” The principal glanced at the clock. “Alright, you may go.”

JC got up and walked out of the office, ignoring the greetings of a few other teachers who were gathered there. He walked right into the auditorium and sat down at the piano. It was where he went when he was lost, when he didn’t know what to do. In ten minutes, two months of work had just been flushed down the drain. Now he needed to find new music and teach new music to five new groups. Fifteen new pieces arranged for middle school level with absolutely no religious connotation yet appropriate for a holiday concert. It couldn’t be done. He was screwed. God, this job just sucked.

He idly ran his fingers over the keys, and began to pick out a somber melody. It was something he’d written, a long time ago, something that had stuck in his head and resurfaced at times like these. He was so lost in the music, he didn’t hear the bell ring, or the students begin to enter. They sat down and listened, quiet for once.

When he finished the piece, he looked up, shocked to see them there. He smiled at them as they stared. It was the first time they had ever seen their music teacher actually playing music. Slowly, one began to clap, then others followed. JC stood from the piano to a resounding applause from the scattering of teenagers. He grinned, a true smile. This was what Lance was always talking about, he thought, about how the kids can make you feel better. He’d never felt it until this point. But standing here, the frustration from a moment ago was slowly replaced by the happiness their clapping brought.

“OK, guys. We’ve got a ton of work to do so get up on the stage and get the chairs set up. The first order of business today is to recollect all of the music you’ve gotten so far.”

**

JC was still riding a roller coaster of high and low emotion when Justin called that night. It seemed he was still trying to figure out what to do after graduation.

“I swear, C. My mom thinks I’m gonna get drafted, and I can’t seem to explain to her that a mediocre white kid from Tennessee who plays guard for a fifteenth place team is not gonna end up in the NBA.”

JC smiled at the image of Justin playing professional ball. “It could happen, J.”

“It could happen if the bubonic plague was released and the entire NBA was suddenly struck down, and they had to get all new players. Then, I might get a chance to be a second string player for, like, the Cavaliers or something.” JC could hear the disgust in his voice.

“Hey, man. Look, you’ve got time. What about going to grad school?”

Justin snorted. “I don’t have the grades. I think I’m gonna end up working at the steel mill outsidda Millington. Life’s just ducky like that.”

JC realized this was going to be a pity party, so he changed the subject. “Hey, do you know any Christmas songs that don’t have the word Christmas, Jesus, or anything else holy in them?”

“What? JC, it’s October. Please tell me you’re not listening to Christmas music already. I swear, I heard Jingle Bells Rite Aide the other day and almost went apeshit and ripped the speaker out of the wall.”

JC laughed at the image. Justin hated the commercialization of the holidays. He was pretty religious, once you got past the swearing and sleeping with boys thing. “No, no. God no. I just got an order from my principal to remove religion from the Christmas concert, so I have to find some new music.”

“I dunno, man. What about, like, Frosty the Snowman?” He started to sing the song, and JC held the phone away from his ear and yelled “stop, stop!”

“Sorry. That’s all I can think of.”

The call waiting beeped, and JC said a quick goodbye to Justin before switching lines.

“JC?” A deep voice came through the phone, one JC recognized instantly.

“Yeah, this is he.”

“It’s Lance.”

“Hey! I thought it sounded like you,” JC said, desperately trying to sound cool. He laid back on his futon, turning down the volume on his CD player, where Johnny Lang crooned about how his love was breaking him.

“Would you believe I actually had to call Tony to get your number?”

“Really?” JC asked, surprised. Then he thought about it, and they had never exchanged phone numbers. Weird, considering Lance was probably his best friend in the area at the moment. Only friend, for that matter.

“Yeah. I hope that’s OK.”

“Sure, sure. What’s up?”

“I missed you in school today, and I was wondering if you wanted to go line dancing on Friday. There’s this place I go to occasionally, it’s about a half hour north of here. It’s pretty cool.”

JC sighed. “You’re really gonna make me listen to country music, aren’t you?”

Lance laughed. “You’ll like it, I swear. This place plays good country- Reba, Garth, Tim McGraw, Dixie Chicks. It’s not, like, twangy or anything.”

“Thank God.” JC pulled at the drawstring on his sweatpants. “Sure, why not? You just have to promise me you won’t let me make an ass out of myself.”

“Trust me,” Lance replied, his voice lower than usual. “I’ve seen you move. You’ll do fine.”

JC felt his whole body quiver with the compliment. Apparently, he was back to crushing again. The ups and downs of this were starting to make his head spin, but he didn’t think he wanted it to stop. Ever.

“OK. I’m trusting you.”

There was a moment of silence, before Lance asked, “So, what else is new?” JC smiled. He hadn’t really wanted to get off the phone either.

“Not too much. Hey, do you know any holiday songs that don’t have the words Christmas, Jesus, or anything religious in them?”

“What? Why?” JC gave him the short version of the principal’s instructions.

“What an ass,” was Lance’s response. “That guy would rather put his teachers through hell than just say no to a parent. So, what? You need stuff for the concert?”

“Yeah. Three pieces for five different groups.”

“What about something from the Nutcracker? Could you take a few of those song?”

JC sat up. “Oh, man, that’s brilliant. Let me write that down.” He fumbled for a piece of paper, and ended up with the back of some kid’s homework from his theory class. Eh.

“Got any other ideas?”

“Hmm….” JC imagined he could hear Lance thinking through the phone line.

“Well, what about something from a Christmas movie? Like, I used to love that song from Home Alone.” He hummed a few bars, and JC nodded along.

“Yeah! Oh, man, you are a lifesaver. What’s that called? Something memory.”

“Somewhere in My Memory,” Lance answered. “And what flavor would I be?”

“Huh?” JC said, jotting down the songs.

“What flavor lifesaver?” Lance said.

“Oh. Umm… pineapple.”

“Pineapple?”

“Yup. Cause they’re my favorite? Cause they’re yellow and you’re blonde, and. Yes. I don’t know, why are you asking me this?”

Lance laughed. “I have no idea. So, I’m your favorite, huh?”

JC smiled into the phone. “Apparently, since you’re my lifesaver. Now I just have to find the music to those songs. That really helps, though. Thanks, man.”

“Hey, that’s what I’m here for.”

“So, do you want to drive on Friday or do you want to pick me to?” JC asked, doodling on the back of the paper.

“Would you mind driving? I’m trying to put off an oil change until the next payday.”

“Sure.” JC realized he’d been drawing little hearts, and grinned. He knew he was a sap. He also knew that there was no way this assignment was going to be returned to the kid.

“OK. I gotta get going, I’ve got a ton of stuff to grade. See you tomorrow, then.”

“Sure. Can’t wait.” JC said.

“Me neither. Bye, JC.”

“Bye.” JC hit the off button on his phone, and dropped it to the floor beside the sofa. He laid back down on the sofa with his neck resting on the arm, wondering exactly what one wore to go line dancing.

**

Line dancing was actually fun, JC realized, once he got past the fact that it was country music and people wearing cowboy boots. Lance’s were red, which made JC remember the red sneakers he wore the first time then went out on a non-date. JC had to settle for sneakers, which didn’t make that nice stomping noise on the floor. It was kind of disappointing.

Lance, however, fit right in and JC couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the way he moved. He knew most of the dances already, and from the way the bartender and a few others greet him, JC realized Lance must come here more than just occasionally.

At one point, when JC was struggling to keep up, Lance came over to stand behind him. “Here, let me help” he said, putting his hands on JC’s arms and guiding him through the dance. They were standing so close JC could feel the heat from Lance’s body warming his back, and he tried to block the image of the two of them pressed together more intimately out of his mind so he could focus on the dance. After a few passes, he had it better, and Lance stepped away. JC felt cold without him there.

They stayed, dancing, until around ten, when the live music ended and the jukebox kicked in. Someone seemed to have put in ten dollars worth of Patsy Cline requests, and her songs came one after another as JC and Lance sat across from each other at a tiny square table near the edge of the dance floor. A few times, a group of women came by and try to catch their eye, but every time, they’d go out of their way to avoid eye contact and then giggle as the women walked away confused.

“Dude, does this always happen here?” JC asked, pretending to look at a menu.

Lance shook his head and glanced up to see the eager blonde had turned her attention to a tall guy in a dark cowboy hat. “Not this bad. But usually I come alone, or with Joey and Kelly, so I manage to avoid the groups.”

Another woman brushed past, bumping JC with her arm. “Sorry,” she said, only it sounded more like “come fuck my brains out” than an apology.

“Are you ready to go?” Lance asked, laughing at the startled look on JC’s face.

“Definitely.” He stood up, and they tossed a few bills down on the table to cover the tab.

JC relented on the ride home and let Lance put the country station on the radio. Someone was singing about climbing mountains and growing older, and he thought that maybe this stuff wasn’t all that bad anyway.

“Hey, what does the J in JC stand for anyway?” Lance asked absently.

“Joshua,” JC said. “But if you call me that I probably won’t answer, not to be rude, but because it’s been years since anyone but my parents has called me it.

“OK. If you want the truth, my real name’s James, and the same goes.”

JC snuck a glance at Lance and smiled. “How’d you get Lance from James?”

“It’s my middle name. My dad’s name’s James too, so I was just always Lance. Made things less confusing on my mom.”

“Makes sense,” JC conceded.

“How’d you end up using your initials? Some kind of stage name?” Lance asked curiously, his fingers tapping out the rhythm on the music on his thigh. JC wanted to reach over and take his hand, feel Lance’s sturdy fingers beating time on the back of his palm.

“No. No, not at all.” JC answered. “My first boyfriend was named Josh, so it was just easier.”

“Ah,” Lance said. “And you didn’t switch back after you broke up?”

JC shook his head slightly. “We dated for two years. I’d gotten used to it.” He sighed, remembering what it was like to be with Josh. He always remembered Josh and sunshine together. Their relationship had been so much a part of his life in California that he couldn’t help but associate one with the other. “God, I hadn’t thought about him in a while.”

“Sorry,” Lance said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories or anything.”

“No, no.” JC was quick to reassure his friend. “It’s not bad. We had a perfectly nice relationship and it wasn’t a bitter break up or anything. We just weren’t in love anymore, and both realized it.”

“Wow,” Lance said. “OK, I’ve only ever been in one long term relationship or anything, but it was NOT a nice easy break up. I don’t think that Beth’s ever gonna think of me as a friend.”

“I’m sorry,” JC said, turning to look at Lance as they stopped at a red light. “You’ve only been in one relationship?”

“Well, only one that really mattered to me,” Lance replied, looking out the window at streetlights. “I dated Beth, the one I told you about before, for a long time, and probably would have married her.”

“What happened?” JC asked, as he began to drive again.

“I made the mistake of telling her I was bi, and she freaked. Threw a lot of religious stuff back in my face, and told me that I could either get fixed or get out. I got out.”

“Wow.” JC didn’t know what to say. He’d never had anyone shun him for being gay. He knew he was lucky for that, but he’d never met someone who’d actually lost a loved one over their sexuality. Just a few friends who had unhappy parents or whatnot, but no one who had actually been kicked out of their house or anything. Maybe the world wasn’t as perfect as he thought.

“Yeah. Anyway, after we broke up I had a few short things, but nothing long term.” Lance looked over and saw JC glancing at him. “And yes, both guys and girls. I’m not some guy who claims to be bi just to be cosmopolitan or anything.”

JC smiled and thought, ‘busted’. “I didn’t think that.”

“Sure, sure,” Lance said, but he was grinning. The sadness that had been in his eyes a moment earlier was gone now. “So, that’s my romantic history. Pretty sad, huh?”

“Nah, it’s not sad. At least you’ve been in love,” JC said, turning onto Lance’s street.

“I don’t think that what we had was love,” Lance said. “Love means not throwing someone out on their ass.”

JC couldn’t argue with that. He stopped in front of Lance’s house, and turned to face his friend. “So, what is love then?”

Lance shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it’s something you’ll just know when you find it.” He reached down to open the door, but the handle was stuck. He tugged at it a few times, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, here. Sometimes the lock sticks and you have to flip it manually.” JC reached over to press the unlock level on the door. As he did, he had to lean close to Lance. Very close. Close enough that when he turned his head, Lance was right there, with his eyes almost closed and his lips slightly parted, and JC couldn’t help but move up to touch them with his own.

There was no thinking, just instinct, as Lance pressed forward into JC’s lips, bringing a hand up to hold JC’s head in place as they kissed. JC rested one hand on Lance’s thigh for leverage and leaned up, opening his mouth slightly and shifting angles so that the kiss deepened, and Lance’s tongue glided across his lips once, twice, and then he pulled back, opening his eyes to gaze upon JC. His green eyes were cloudy and JC sat back into his own seat slowly, never breaking eye contact with the younger man.

Lance reached up with one hand and opened the door. JC continued to watch without speaking, worried that he’d over stepped his boundaries, but when Lance got out and closed the door, he looked back at JC through the window and smiled slightly before turning to walk into the house. JC broke into a huge grin and then laughed to himself as he drove away, switching the radio station from country to something with lots of bass that he could bounce to all the way home.

**

By the next Friday, JC was almost as itchy as the kids for the final bell to ring. All week long, he’d thought about nothing but that kiss, that one perfect kiss. He’d barely seen Lance since that night, since it’d been a short week and very hectic because of Halloween and candy and hyper, hyper kids. The only communication they’d had was by notes in each others’ mail boxes. JC had offered to return the favor and take Lance to his favorite dance club, a place in downtown Philadelphia that catered to the gay crowd. Lance agreed, and JC could hardly wait until the end of the day on Friday. He had to stop himself four or five times in his orchestra because he was conducting everything too fast, excitement just pouring out of his body at every opportunity.

He pulled up to Lance’s house a few minutes late, having spent longer than usual getting ready. He had dug out his favorite pair of leather pants, an almost-mesh black long sleeved shirt with a black tank top underneath, and decade-old Doc Marten’s that laced halfway up his shins. He couldn’t wait to see Lance, who had written “ooo… chance to wear clubbing clothes” in his response. JC had a feeling that was going to be a sight that drove him mad.

He waited for five minutes, before turning off the engine and walking up to the door. He pressed the button next to the name Bass, and the door buzzed open a second later. JC walked up the three flights of stairs, and knocked on the door at the top.

Lance opened the door shirtless, water dripping from his hair, wearing black jeans and no shoes.

“Sorry. I’m really frazzled. Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll find something…”

JC could instantly tell that something was wrong. Lance always looked so calm, so controlled. JC had never seen him stressed out before.

“Is everything OK?” he asked, tentatively, sitting down on the arm of the couch.

Lance paused on his way back to the bedroom. “I just. Can we do this another night? I really do want to go, I’m just. Stuff happened today and I’m just wiped, man.”

“Sure, sure,” JC said, concerned. “What happened?”

Lance leaned back against the living room wall and sighed. “I had a meeting with Dr. Pearlman today, and it didn’t go very well.”

Ah. So that was what was bothering Lance. “What did he say?” JC asked, defensively. He couldn’t imagine anything Lance did being wrong. Lance was like, the best teacher in the school.

“He said I’m failing too many kids. That I give them too much information in each class. That I should let them discover things on their own.” He opened his eyes and looked at JC. “How well would you have done in math if your teacher had let you discover things on your own?”

JC thought back and grimaced. “I think I probably would have found a way to get through life using only addition and subtraction.”

“Exactly. He has no fucking idea what he’s talking about. He just. . . God. And now he wants me to take this class, and I’m already swamped trying to get my master’s finished up, it just. God.”

JC stood up and walked over the where Lance was standing. He gently tugged Lance’s shoulder to pull him away from the wall, turned him, and began to rub his shoulders.

“You told me the first time we talked that he was a moron. Don’t let it get to you. Everyone I’ve talked to at the school raves about you and what a great job you are doing.”

Lance leaned back into JC’s hands and groaned a little. The sound went right through JC, warming him from head to toe, from the inside out, and combined with the feeling of Lance’s tense shoulders beneath his hands, JC felt like the whole world could stop right there and he would be perfectly happy to keep this feeling forever. “Thanks. And that feels great, by the way,” Lance said, his voice barely more than a murmur.

“Here.” JC stepped forward so he could look Lance in the eye. “I took a massage class in college, but it works better if you’re laying down.” He watched Lance for a reaction, hoping he wasn’t moving too fast.

Lance took his hand gently and walked the few steps into the bedroom. It was small, with a chest high dresser and a double bed covered in a navy blue comforter. There were a few framed pictures scattered about, and a huge poster of some kind of star formation on the wall over the bed.

Lance collapsed, face first, onto the bed, and JC laughed and climbed up so he was kneeling over him, one leg on either side of Lance’s hips.

“I’m throwing myself at your mercy here, so do what you want with me as long as it starts with more rubbing,” Lance said, his voice muffled by the comforter.

JC laughed, and began to knead the tension out of Lance’s upper back. As his hands moved lower, his massage became lighter. The pale skin of Lance’s back was smooth beneath his hands, and the muscles shifted as he rubbed all signs of anxiety out of Lance’s body.

“You’re a god, you know that?” Lance said after a while, his voice muffled by the pillows.

JC smiled and continued to work on a knot at the base of Lance’s left shoulder blade. “Nah, I’m just a guy who needed a health credit to graduate.”

Lance shook his head, then left it turned to the side resting on his hands. His eyes remained closed as he spoke. “No, really. You’re like, some amazing Greek god of massage. I think I’m gonna have to keep you around.”

JC smiled. “I’ll be your slave. Here to service you at every beck and call.” Actually, that didn’t sound quite bad. It might be quite nice, actually, living in a little apartment with Lance, getting to see those fascinating green eyes every morning when he woke up.

As if reading his mind, Lance looked up at him. JC caught his eyes and smiled. He gave Lance’s shoulders one last squeeze, then crawled over Lance to sit at the foot of the bed, one leg drawn up underneath the other.

Lance remained sprawled out, looking at JC. “All done?” he asked, a slight pout on his lips.

“Dude, any more massage and you’ll turn into jelly,” JC replied, even though his hands were still tingling from the skin-to-skin contact.

“I could live as jelly,” Lance said, making JC giggle. Lance smiled in return, then closed his eyes a little bit.

“Seriously, though. Thanks. This means a lot to me.”

“What? The massage? Don’t mention it man, it’s nothing.”

“Not that.” Lance pushed himself up on his hands and twisted until he was sitting facing JC. “Just… being here. I was in such a bad place this afternoon, it helps to have company.”

“Hey, that’s what friends are for, right?” JC said lightly, smacking Lance’s leg to emphasize the point.

“Yeah.”

The two men grew quiet. Outside, a car drove down the street with the bass blaring, giving the room a thumping rhythm for a few moments.

“Are you thinking about last weekend?” Lance asked quietly.

JC paused. He wasn’t sure whether to admit that he was thinking about kissing Lance or play it cool and deny the whole thing. In the end, he only gave a tentative “maybe?”

“Maybe like, will we do it again, or maybe like, please God don’t let him go where I think this is going because then I’ll have to let him down gently?”

JC leaned forward a little bit. “Maybe the first?”

Lance shifted so he was sitting closer to JC. “Me too.” He stretched a hand out onto the bed between the to so he could lean over with better balance, and just before his lips met JC’s, he whispered “maybe” with a slight smile.

This kiss was nothing like the last one. The kiss in the car was tentative, both men being unsure about the boundaries of what was going to be acceptable. This kiss was so much more. It was heat and fireworks. It was slow and fast at the same time. The last coherent thought JC remembered having was the Lance’s tongue was bumpy feeling as it rubbed against his, and then he was lost in the sensation of freshly-shaven cheek beneath his hand, warm breath on his cheek, wet lips on his mouth.

Lance pulled back slightly and smiled, a slow cagey grin, tugging the older man further up onto the bed. They sat in the middle of the comforter, legs entwined, as Lance moved to JC’s mouth again. This time, his hands were free to roam over JC’s body. He rested one on JC’s hip, rubbing his hand just above the low slung waistband of leather, and entwined the other in JC’s hair. JC moved down to suck gently on Lance’s neck, finding a spot just behind his ear that elicited the deep groan he loved to hear.

It was a long time before the two men pull apart, both slightly out of breath and flushed from head to toe.

“I.” Lance took a deep breath and tried again. “I don’t want this…” he gestured to the bed below them “tonight. I just. Not yet, you know?”

JC nodded. He reached over and took Lance’s hand, circling his thumb over the smooth skin.

“No, I agree. It’s just. Wow.” He blushed, a bit, and looked up at Lance from under his eyelashes.

“Wow,” Lance repeated. “I guess this would be a good time to tell you that I’ve kinda had a crush on you. For a while now.”

JC grinned. “I guess it would be a good time to tell you that I’ve had a crush on you. Since the moment I saw you in the parking lot on the first day of school.”

“Really?” Lance said, his voice higher than usual. “Cool.”

JC laughed. “Totally cool.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “God, I’m so lame.”

“Nah,” JC said, “It’s cute.”

Lance squeezed his hand. “So, listen. It’s kinda too late to go out, but if you wanna stay in, I’ve got movies…” He looked at JC hopefully.

JC said “Sure,” and smiled at Lance. “That sounds great.”

**

JC never actually came out of the closet. He just went home from college one summer and started leaving boys phone numbers in his pockets and throwing his pants in the laundry. He’d left copies of the Advocate on his bed, and watched Will and Grace religiously every Thursday until his mom finally cornered him one day and told him that they knew he was gay and he didn’t have to try to hide anything from them. He just smiled and kissed her cheek, and left for work. When he came home that night, his father asked him to be safe because there were “a lot of hateful people out there.” That was the extent of it.

Lance smiled when JC told him this. They were curled up in the corner of the couch, JC with his feet up on the coffee table and Lance tucked against his side. The movie had ended almost a half hour ago, but they had yet to move

“You’re lucky. My mom cried. For nearly a month.” Lance was tracing the plaid patterns in the pajama pants he’d let JC borrow.

“I’m sorry.” JC rubbed Lance’s bicep in support.

“It’s OK. I’d rather she cry than shun me. I was afraid that would happen.”

“Is she OK now?”

Lance nodded. “She’s better. The whole bisexual thing made it hard on her, because she couldn’t see if I liked girls why I’d want to risk eternal sin and damnation to be with boys too.”

“Wow.” Harsh words, JC thought. “She said that?”

“Not in so many words, but it was implied. She’s accepted it, at least, but I doubt she’ll ever really condone it.” Lance fell silent for a moment. “I love her, though, and I know she loves me, so it means a lot that she’s come even this far.”

“What about your father?”

Lance laughed into JC’s shoulder. “He does whatever my mom tells him.” JC chuckled too. “Anyway, they’re small town, conservative folk. They wouldn’t be themselves if they were, you know, running to Pflag rallies or whatnot.”

Lance’s hand had stilled on JC’s thigh, so JC reached out and took it with his free one. Their fingers connected, JC tapped aimlessly on Lance’s knuckles. “Tell me about Mississippi,” he asked quietly.

“It’s warm,” Lance replied. “Hot in the summer, but warm all year round. There’s always this moist heat in the air. Sometimes, it’s really comforting, like a blanket warming you at night. Other times, it makes you feel as if the blanket’s wrapped around your head.”

“That’s… I can picture that. I can almost feel it.”

“Everything there is so small. The stores, the streets. You have one town and then nothingness for miles and miles until you reach the next small town. You know everyone, and if you don’t know someone, you know someone who does. It’s family, and church, and honor. Pride.”

“It sounds like a great place to grow up.”

“It was. I can’t say I’d want to be there now, but it was.”

“Bowie was like that.” JC said. “A great place to grow up.”

“Not like Mississippi, though,” Lance said.

“Well, no. But a nice, small-town feel. I knew everyone in my high school. Some of the teachers there- they’d had my parents. Every summer we took the same vacations- DC, King’s Dominion, Ocean City. Traditions were big in my family.”

“You’re going home for Thanksgiving?” Lance asked.

“Mmm.” JC closed his eyes, picturing his parents’ house in Maryland. “For the long weekend. Are you?” JC looked down at Lance.

“Yeah. I’m flying out Wednesday night.” Lance sighed, and reluctantly sat up. JC’s side was cold where Lance had been pressed against him. “I haven’t seen them since August, it’ll be nice to be home for a few days. My sister and her husband’ll be there.”

“Cool.” JC looked over at the clock on the VCR. “I guess I should get going, it’s pretty late.”

“OK.” Lance stood, and offered a hand to JC to help him up. They stood between the coffee table and the sofa, hands together, for a moment.

“I’ll just go change,” JC offered, but Lance stopped him.

“Keep them. I’m sure I’ll get them back from you at some point.”

“OK.” JC stretched his arms over his head, revealing a strip of flesh at his waist. “God, I hope I don’t fall asleep on the way home.”

“Roll down the windows,” Lance said, moving so JC could sit to pull on his shoes. JC looked up at him like he was crazy.

“What? No way. I just turn the radio up loud.” Standing, JC reached for Lance once again, pulling the younger man close to him. “I had a good time tonight.”

“Me too,” Lance replied. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to go clubbing.”

“Some other time.” JC leaned down and kissed Lance, slipping a tongue between his lips once, twice, before pulling away slowly and opening his eyes. “Goodnight.”

“Good night,” Lance replied, rubbing a hand over JC’s chest slowly. Then JC forced himself to step away, and walk out the door. He paused when he got to the bottom of the stairs and looked back up. Damn it, he was falling in love with Lance. He just didn’t have a clue what to do about it.

**

It snowed for the first time the week before Thanksgiving. All of the kids were set into a frenzy, as if the powder falling to coat the ground was some kind of mind altering drug, increasing the energy of every student at the school. What it meant for teachers was gruelingly long classes, with inattentive students failing to complete assignments or, worse, acting out in class. The whole experience was driving JC crazy. He was only thankful that his classroom didn’t have windows, because he had heard horror stories from the other teachers about kids running over in the middle of class every time the flakes started to fall.

By Friday afternoon, JC was ready to pack it all in. His students had effectively given up practicing. None of the groups had made much progress in the past few weeks, when they should have been moving steadily towards their concert, only a month away. Instead, they continued to play off beat and out of tune. He’d had to check his anger several times over the past few days, and delivered several lectures about having some pride in their work and putting some effort into their music. It seemed to him, however, that his words had fallen on deaf ears. That would explain both the failure to improve after his "talks" and the inability of the kids to play in tune. Even some of his best students seemed to be slipping.

Incredibly frustrated, he walked into the main office after the final bell to check his mailbox before heading out for the weekend. He literally bumped into Lance as he turned the corner.

"Oof!” JC stumbled backward, and then looked at the body he’d collided with and smiled shyly. "Hey."

"Hey!” Lance said, stepping back to lean against the wall. "It’s Friday!"

"Thank God," JC mumbled, pulling the few letters out of his box. Nothing interesting, so he stuck it all back in to wait until Monday. "I don’t think I could take another day of this."

"Yeah, the snow’s pretty crazy, huh?” Lance grinned brightly, looking more like one of the students than a teacher. "It’s supposed to stop tonight, though."

"Really?” JC hadn’t really missed having a TV until he started to realize it’d be nice to have a weather report once in a while.

"Yeah, so actually-" Lance looked around cautiously. "Did you want to go clubbing tonight? Since we didn’t make it last weekend?"

Definitely, JC thought. "Definitely. That sounds awesome, I so need to get out and just. Ugh. Get this week out of my system."

"Cool," Lance laughed. "Hey, man. It’s almost Thanksgiving, and then you’ll get four and a half days off."

JC nodded. "I’m counting the hours.” The two men began to walk out to the parking lot, waving to the secretary on the way out the door. It was cold outside, and the snow was still lightly falling. "What time is good for you?"

Lance looked at his watch, pulling back the sleeve of his forest green parka. "It takes, like, what, an hour to get there? So why not leave around eight thirty or so?"

JC shivered in his lightweight jacket and nodded. "Ok. I’ll pick you up again?"

"Are you sure? I can drive you know."

"It’s fine. I don’t mind."

"OK." They reached Lance’s car, covered in several inches of snow. He opened the door and reached in for a scraper. "See you later then?"

JC nodded and began to walk down the row to his own car. "Bye."

He’d only made it a few steps before Lance called out to him. JC turned.

"I can’t wait.” Lance brushed aimlessly at the coating on his car roof, smiling shyly at JC.

JC smiled widely in response, then hurried to his own car to get out of the cold.

**

The music in the club was loud and techno. They were playing a remix of a popular alterna-rock song, something that would probably have the original artists cringing in pain, but the beat was good and the club was alive with energy.

"This is your favorite place?” Lance asked, as JC led him by the hand over to the bar. He reached out a hand to get them a place, then turned slightly until he could face Lance but still catch the bar tender when he came by. He didn’t let go of Lance’s hand, just let it hang loosely between them.

"Just wait. It’s still kinda early. It doesn’t get going until after eleven. But I like to come early because you can’t get near the bar later in the evening.” He raised a hand to signal the bar tender as she went by. "Red Bull and Absolut," he said, then turning to Lance. "What do you want?" he asked.

"The same, I guess," Lance said. JC repeated it to the bar tender. When they got their drinks, JC paid and led Lance to the back of the club, up a stairway to a second level catwalk with benches against the wall. The lights were a pale aqua green and blue, giving the place an almost underwater look.

"I usually like to have a drink before I start dancing. I hope that’s OK." JC leaned against the railing. Lance had to stand close to hear him.

"That’s fine. I gotta tell you, though, I’m not a great dancer." Lance blushed a little, his eyes watching the people down below.

"What? Yes you are."

"Not like… that."

"What? That’s easy dancing. If you can do all of that choreographed line dancing, you can do this."

Lance shook his head. "It’s not. That’s easy cause-. OK, with line dancing you know what you have to do. It’s easy to follow the steps."

JC moved around behind Lance. "This is easy too. It’s just a matter of feeling the rhythm." He moved in flush against Lance, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s chest. "Can you feel it?" JC breathed into Lance’s ear.

Lance could feel a lot of things, but he wasn’t sure the beat was one of them. He could feel JC’s body pressed against his back from chest to- well, from chest down. He could feel JC’s arms wrapped around him tight, his hands tapping on his chest in time to the music. Lance almost felt his heartbeat change to match the time of the music. He could feel JC’s warm, moist breath on his cheek, and JC’s hair tickling his ear. He stood, leaning back into JC, savoring the feeling. It was an afterthought to begin moving in time with the music. He almost didn’t realize they were dancing until his body started to react to the heavy grinding and he felt a responding pressure on his tailbone from JC. Lance turned his head slightly and opened his mouth to JC, inviting the other man in with a fiery kiss.

JC met his mouth with an eager moan, parting his lips to welcome Lance inside. He could taste the sharp zing of alcohol, the mellow flavor of mixer, and even a hint of the mint Lance was sucking on in the car. Underneath it all, though, was a flavor uniquely Lance, one that intoxicated JC more than any drink. He kept his arms wrapped around Lance’s chest, where Lance brought his own hands up to link them with JC’s. Palm to palm, body to body, JC felt a surge in his chest as he indulged again and again into Lance’s mouth.

Breathless, Lance pulled back slightly, slowly opening his eyes to gaze at JC. The lights of the club gave Lance’s eyes an iridescent look, like magical orbs used to cast spells by powerful magicians in an enchanted fable. JC could almost believe it was true, for as he looked into Lance’s eyes, he felt himself falling out of his own mind and into a world where nothing made any sense except Lance.

JC stared at Lance’s lips moving for a moment before his brain registered there was sound coming from that exquisite mouth. "What?" he asked, hazily.

"Do you want to go downstairs and dance?” Lance asked, his voice low over the pounding music that was slowly registering in JC’s ears.

JC smiled slowly in response. "Yeah. I’d like that a lot.” He reached over with one hand to grab at his drink, finishing it in one long mouthful. Lance did the same, and then guided JC back to the stairway, pushing the older man along in eagerness to get down to the dance floor.

The dance floor wasn't very crowded yet, but it was still full enough that JC and Lance were forced pretty close together. JC didn't think either of them minded. It wasn't long before the rhythm had taken over and he grabbed onto Lance's hips and began to move. The club wasn't strictly gay, but there was enough of a mixed population that JC felt comfortable dancing with Lance in the midst of the crowd. It took Lance a little longer to loosen up, but the way JC looked every time he caught Lance's eyes was enough to shed his inhibitions and allow himself to be caught up in the music.

JC on the dance floor was totally different from JC in school, Lance realized. JC was comfortable here. He was liberated, moving freely to the music. His eyes were closed, and head bopped in time with the heavy bass. Lance couldn't help but be drawn in. JC slipped a hand beneath the waist of Lance's tight jeans, relishing in the feel of Lance's hot, slightly sweaty skin against his fingertips. He dragged Lance close so their legs fit together like interlocking puzzle pieces, so that every time Lance moved, he rubbed against JC. JC laughed with exhilaration, leaning backward so far that Lance reached out to catch him if he fell. JC just pulled himself back up and smiled, locking his arms around Lance's neck as they swayed to the music. Lance groaned loudly, eliciting a peculiar look from JC.

"What?” JC had to yell over the music.

"You're very... flexible," Lance replied, a deviant look on his face.

JC smiled widely in return. "Yoga. I'll have to give you a demonstration sometime."

Lance rolled his eyes skyward, and willed himself not to come right there on the dance floor, with thoughts of JC in various positions crashed into his mind. He took a step back from JC and rested his arms on JC's hips.

"Awww... did I scare you?" JC asked mischievously.

Lance shook his head, no. "Unless you want me to throw you down right here, you'd better back off and dance." He used his hands to make JC's hips shimmy, causing both men to laugh and return to dancing.

They stayed late, taking a few breathers but dancing the majority of the night. Once JC had figured out that he was in control here, he'd used it to his full advantage and taken every opportunity to make Lance squirm in discomfort. It was a role he wasn't used to. With Josh, he had always been the one ready to submit at any moment to any whim his boyfriend might have had. Even most of the time with Lance, JC felt like a teenager with his first crush. Being in control, even over something as insignificant as a night at a club, gave him a rush of raw sexual energy, a feeling he was going to take full advantage of while it lasted.

By the time they got their coats and headed outside, both men were flushed from the warm club and vigorous exercise. They stepped outside hand in hand and were brought up to a halt when they saw what lay in front of them.

The roads were covered in a thick blanket of snow, and it continued to swirl in the air making it nearly impossible for them to see even across the street.

"I thought it was supposed to stop snowing.” JC looked down the street to where his car was parked. All he could see was a mound of white.

"It was," Lance's deep voice replied. He'd burrowed his free hand into his coat pocket and was trying to stuff both his hand and JC's into the other one. JC reluctantly dropped Lance's hand to pull his hands up inside the sleeves of his coat.

"Are we gonna be able to get home in this?” JC asked. Sure, he'd grown up in Maryland, but he'd been living in California for four years. The thought of driving in the snow wasn't so bad, but this wasn't snow, it was some kind of blizzard.

"I don't know. I mean, what do you think?” Lance asked.

"I guess we try.” JC started to walk toward the car. It took the two of them a few minutes of digging before the were able to open the doors and get inside, and even longer before the windows and tires were clear.

They lasted through about five minutes of slipping and sliding before giving up the idea of making it all the way home.

"Shit, man. I'm sorry. I'd call Tony but he's down in DC doing a show, and I really don't know anyone else in town. I don't know where we're gonna be able to crash tonight."

Lance shrugged. "We could always get a hotel, I guess. Split the cost of a room, it shouldn't be that much. It's better than sleeping in the car, or dying trying to get back home. I heard about this guy who went off the road into a ditch and was there for, like, five days before they found him. I don't wanna be that guy."

JC laughed, both at the anecdote and at the predicament they were in. "OK. I think there's a HoJos down the road, if that's OK. It's only a few blocks from here and shouldn't be too expensive."

It wasn't, thankfully, and it had a nice room available with two beds.

They shed their wet winter layers and draped them over the heater. The room was decorated in muted mauves and peach, and though it was still very obviously a hotel, it was kind of warm and homey feeling.

Lance reached up and tugged on a rogue strand of JC’s hair. “You’re all curly.”

JC shook his head a little, cascading water droplets over his shoulders. “The humidity in the club. I should really just get it cut short.”

“Don’t,” Lance said softly, and ran his hand into JC’s hair. “I like it this way.”

JC tipped his head back into Lance’s palm. He reached for Lance’s other hand and, taking it between both of his, brought it to his mouth for a kiss. “Do you wanna take a shower and warm up?”

Lance arched his eyebrows, and JC laughed a little. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’ll wait till you’re done.”

“OK.” Lance dropped his hand back and took a step towards the tiny bathroom. “I’ll be quick.”

JC smiled. He sat down on the edge of the bed and turned on the TV. He tried to focus on some late night syndicated show so his mind didn’t wander to Lance in the shower, under the warm water, soaping his body all over…

By the time Lance emerged calling “next,” JC nearly bolted into the bathroom. It wasn’t until he was safely inside the steamy room that he realized Lance had been standing right in front of him in only a towel. He looked up and saw a pair of black boxer briefs draped over a towel rod. Resisting the urge to reach out and touch them, because really, ew, other people’s underwear, he stripped out of his own clothes, rinsed out his own low rise briefs, and stepped into the shower under a scalding hot spray.

Lance was sitting on one of the beds, leaning against the headboard when JC reentered the room a few minutes later, wearing his own towel. He groaned, inwardly, when he saw Lance’s towel draped over a chair in the corner, realizing that the other man was sitting naked under the covers.

“Hey.” JC stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not sure of what move to make.

“Hey. Have a nice shower?” Lance asked. He leaned forward, pulling his knees up so his feet were together, his elbows resting on his bent knees.

“Yeah. It was. Yeah,” JC replied vaguely.

Lance let out a long breath. “Wow, this is awkward,” he said.

JC giggled nervously. “Yeah.”

“Look,” Lance said running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna be brutally honest here. I’ve had sex with only two people in my life. First, there was Beth, and then there was a guy, but that’s it. I kinda believe in waiting, not till marriage or anything, but at least until I really know a person and I really love a person. And I’m not saying that I don’t like you or anything, but I really don’t want to rush into anything here.”

JC sat down on the edge of Lance’s bed, careful to keep his towel drawn around him. They really skimped on material in hotel towels. He fumbled with his hands for a few seconds, and ended up leaving them in his lap.

“Are you mad?” Lance asked, uncertainly.

JC looked up, startled. “No. No, why would I be mad?”

“Disappointed or whatever.”

“Of course not.” JC shook his head. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, a reflexive movement he used whenever he was tense. “No, not at all.”

Lance smiled a little, but didn’t reply.

“Can I ask you something?” JC said. “And if this is totally personal, then just tell me to fuck off.”

“Sure.”

“Two people? Like, ever?”

Lance laughed, and JC was thankful he hadn’t offended him. “Like, all the way two people. But other stuff? That’s more.”

JC released a huge sigh of relief. “OK. Cause I was feeling a little bit slutty in comparison there for a second.”

“Don’t forget you’ve got a couple years on me. Plus, you lived in California, so you know.”

JC narrowed his eyes. “Are you insinuating that I’m easy just cause I’ve been in the business?”

Lance laughed loudly, rolling back against the headboard. “Oh God. That’s. . .” JC looked at him expectantly. “That’s so not what I meant, it just funny you thought that. I just meant, you know. More gay guys in California than in Mississippi. At least, more who are out.”

“Sure, sure,” JC grinned. “I’m sure that’s what you meant.”

Lance suddenly leaned forward again, scooting closer to JC. “So, I mean. I still wanna, like. . .” He never finished the sentence, just leaned forward and pressed his lips against JC’s lightly.

JC’s response was immediate. He shifted on the bed and brought one arm up around Lance’s bare shoulders. He rested the other hand on Lance’s knee, while his mouth continued to move with Lance’s in a deep, heated kiss. JC tentatively licked at the edges of Lance’s lips, and Lance moaned in response, opening to JC. JC slowly raised his arm from Lance’s shoulders to the back of his head. Lance’s wet hair moistened his fingertips and he cradled Lance’s head gently. Slowly, he began to lower Lance back to the bed, moving over him until he was stretched out on top of Lance, never having broken their kiss.

With only the thin sheet and blanket between them, JC could feel Lance hard beneath him, which only caused his own body to react more strongly. Lance raised his arms and began to stroke down JC’s back, tipping his head back as JC’s mouth moved to a sensitive place just below his Adam’s apple.

When JC felt Lance’s hand graze his bare ass, he realized the towel must have twisted off when he moved. Then thoughts were lost as Lance grabbed the cheeks and squeezed lightly, not enough to hurt but just enough to sensitize every muscle. JC tensed in response, then groaned in pleasure, relaxing under Lance’s kneading touch. He mouthed lower from Lance’s throat, leaving trail of delicate kisses across Lance’s collarbone. Lance’s light chest hair tickled his nose as he moved even further down across Lance’s chest. When he tentatively licked at one of Lance’s nipples, the younger man bucked up and moaned, a deep low resonance that JC could feel echoing from Lance’s chest as he pressed his mouth over the same tiny bud and sucked until it grew into a sensitive point. He moved over to give the other the same treatment, until Lance was writhing underneath him, gasping for air.

“Here, here,” Lance said, shoving at JC’s shoulders. He pulled the older man up enough that he could raise his legs and kick down the covers between them. Suddenly, they were face to face naked for the first time, and both paused a moment to take in the sight. Then they were pressed together again, Lance rolling them over so that he was on top. He held himself up by his arms, then lowered his body down on JC’s. The first body part to touch was their cocks, rubbing together in a delirious friction that had Lance’s eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and JC’s mouth fallen open in arousal.

Lance licked a line down JC’s throat from his chin to the hollow at the base of his neck, feeling the tiny prickles of hair under his tongue and the underlying taste of generic hotel soap and sweat. He nuzzled his nose under JC’s ear, relishing the feel of JC’s silky hair on his cheek, sucking gently on his earlobe until JC was squirming with desire. He drew back a bit and smiled hazily at JC, waiting until JC opened his eyes before smiling, the moving further downward. He took JC’s hand in his, bringing JC’s fingers to his mouth. Each one received a kiss, and when he reached the end of the line, Lance sucked JC’s pinky finger into his mouth, in and out with a almost lewd suggestive look that had JC’s cock jumping and drooling at the idea.

Lance removed JC’s finger from his mouth, then reached it down to touch his own nipple. JC opened his eyes to watch Lance manipulate his hand to arouse himself, and wow, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen. Then, Lance was shifting back, laying JC’s hand on the bed and hovering over JC’s cock.

The first touch was hesitant, but the second was much stronger. A pat, a stoke, and then Lance grasped JC’s cock in his fist and pumped it long and slow, making JC squeeze his eyes shut and whimper at the sensation. “Oh, wow,” he whispered, but it was only getting better, and Lance leaned forward and held his cock upright, kissing the tip then engulfing him halfway in one swift movement.

Lance’s mouth was warm and wet, and JC was sure that this was the most incredible feeling man could experience. He struggled to prop up his upper body so he could watch, catching Lance’s green-eyed gaze as the younger man moved steadily up and down on him. Lance was rubbing his thighs, ruffling the hair and smoothing it again, as he let JC fall out of his mouth and moved lower to lick at his balls and plant tiny kisses around the base of his cock.

The tension began to build in JC’s body; he was sure that his blood was close to boiling and it had nothing to do with anger. When Lance licked his way back up and then swallowed him down again, it was only a matter of moments before he felt on the verge of explosion. He gestured wildly with his hands, trying to warn Lance, then let out a loud “Ohhhhhh, Fuck…..” and came, back arching high off the bed, shooting wave after wave into Lance’s mouth.

As his muscles sank back to the damp sheets, he opened his eyes in time to see Lance releasing him gently, bringing a hand up to wipe his mouth. JC closed his eyes again and rested a forearm over his head, trying to catch his breath. Lance stayed kneeling between JC’s legs, watching this beautiful man attempt to regain composure.

When JC finally felt his heart had slowed to a more normal pace, he looked up to see Lance in front of him, still hard, fists clenched at his sides as his cock throbbed between his legs. Without speaking, JC urged him forward, stuffing the bed pillows under his head to raise him to a more comfortable angle. Lance shuffled up on the bed, until he was sitting on JC’s chest with a knee on either side of JC’s torso. “Is this OK?” he murmured, and JC simply nodded in reply and tilted his head to take Lance into his mouth.

Lance shifted, and then settled down with a low groan, trying to keep from thrusting into JC’s mouth. JC wasn’t making it any easier, setting a gruelingly slow pace that was driving Lance mad. JC alternated deep swallows with light kisses around the head of Lance’s cock, then plunging forward again to take in as much of Lance as he could, given the angle. When he reached one hand under his chin to stroke and tease Lance’s balls, it was all over. Lance tried to stop, but he ended up bracing his hands on the headboard and thrusting forward, slightly gagging JC. JC was able to pull back some, and opened his throat to receive Lance as he came. Lance sighed heavily as JC swallowed the last of his cum, then sat back, letting his softening cock fall from JC’s mouth. He swung a leg over JC’s body, collapsing next to him.

Licking his lips to absorb the last salty-bitter taste of Lance, JC rolled on his side, rubbing a hand up and down Lance’s arm.

“Wow,” Lance murmured. He opened his eyes slightly, and gave JC a tired smile. “That was really, really great.”

“Really,” JC said teasingly.

Lance just groaned and rolled so he was facing JC. “Really,” he replied with a light kiss. “Really.”

JC smiled and kissed Lance back. “You too, you know.”

“I suppose we should sleep in the other bed,” Lance said, raising his head to look at the damp, disheveled sheets.

“It would probably be a good idea, but that would involve moving,” JC said as he snuggling into Lance’s side.

“C’mon.” Lance sat up, dragging JC with him. He half walked, half stumbled over to the other bed, pulling JC down beside him under the covers.

“Do you have to set the alarm?” JC asked, already half asleep.

“No.” Lance lay down on his stomach with his head turned towards JC. Not willing to separate himself just yet, he stretched his arm across JC’s back, cherishing the feel of JC’s warm skin beneath his hand. “G’night,” he said before switching off the bedside light. The only response was JC’s heavy breathing, indicating he was already asleep.

**

Sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the heavy curtains when JC opened his eyes. In the dim light, he could see Lance beside him, one arm twisted up under the pillow, the other hanging from the side of the bed. JC leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lance’s should blade before climbing out from underneath the covers. The room was cold, and he broke out in goose bumps as he peered out the window. The snow had stopped, and the street below was clear.

Shuffling noises from the bed had him turning, to see Lance laying on his back grinning at JC.

“Morning,” Lance said, his voice hoarse from sleep.

“G’Morning,” JC smiled back. He pulled back the curtain to let more light in, causing Lance to squint.

“Oh, God, that’s bright.” Lance brought a hand up over his eyes, shielding them from the sun. JC took a few steps from the window back to the bed, falling down to lie next to Lance.

“What time is it?” Lance asked.

“Nearly ten.”

“I suppose we should get back?”

“Yeah. The streets are clear.”

“And thank God for underground parking.” Lance lifted his hand a little bit to smile at JC. “I wish I could stay the whole weekend, but I’ve got a ton of work to do at home.”

“That’s OK. I really can’t afford to be staying in hotels anyway.”

Lance frowned. “I can pay, if it’s really that tight.”

JC shook his head. God, this man was sweet. “Once in a while’s OK. Thanks, though.”

Lance reached down to run a hand through JC’s hair. It was curling wildly, since he’d let it dry overnight. “This was really special.”

JC nodded in reply. Words didn’t seem necessary to convey the meaning. He simply pulled Lance’s hand down and pressed a kiss to the inside of his palm, then closed Lance’s fingers around it.

“You know what sucks, though?” Lance continued.

“What?”

“Next weekend is Thanksgiving, and I’m gonna be in Mississippi.”

“I’m gonna be in Maryland.”

“I’ll call you,” Lance said shyly.

JC moved so he was lying more on top of Lance. “I’ll count on it.” He pressed a chaste kiss to Lance’s lips, then sat up, pulling Lance with him. “C’mon. We hafta be outta here by eleven, and I wanna shower first.”

“I’ll wait until you’re done,” Lance said, burrowing back down under the covers.

JC laughed, a light, airy sound, and tugged on Lance’s arms. “No way. You’re coming with me.” He pulled Lance out of the bed, then began to push him towards the bathroom. “I thought I was suppose’ta be the sleepy one.”

“You wore me out,” Lance complained. The water started, and he climbed into the tub under the warm spray. JC followed him.

“Poor baby,” he teased, turning Lance around. “Now, be a good boy and I’ll wash your back.”

**

Lance called JC twice that weekend, once on Saturday night to complain about some stupid answer on a student’s homework sheet, and once on Sunday to remind him that it was Spirit Day at school on Monday.

“You’re supposed to wear purple and gold,” Lance said. JC sat on the floor listening, staring at the way the popcorn stuff on his ceiling was starting to peel.

“huh?”

“Purple and gold. The school colors.”

“I don’t own anything purple,” JC said. “Unless you count the fast food service shirt I had to buy a couple years ago for the worst job known to man.” He let his mind wander back to the days he’d spent serving fish sandwiches at a boardwalk shop, and shuddered. No matter how much he hated teaching, it was better than that. Having to spend the whole time inside, in a smelly shack, serving people on roller blades and families at the amusement park in ninety-five degree heat with only a little fan to cool the storefront, he’d come close to passing out many times.

“…so if you want to, you can borrow it,” Lance was saying, and JC realized he’d spaced out.

“What? Sorry, I lost you for a second.”

“I have a spare faculty shirt you can borrow, if you want.”

“Sure.” JC smiled. He still hadn’t returned Lance’s pajama bottoms. They were just really soft, and warm, and nice to sleep in. He had every intention of returning them, sometime in June, maybe, when it was too hot for flannel. Then he’d have to find something else of Lance’s that he could sleep in, because really, it was the best he’d slept since arriving in Pennsylvania.

“I’ll bring it tomorrow.” JC smiled. He’d get to see Lance tomorrow. Who’d have ever thought he’d be anxious for the weekend to be over?

“I should go. I’ve got work to do,” Lance admitted reluctantly.

“See you tomorrow.” There was something else on the tip of JC’s tongue, but he didn’t quite dare say it. Not yet. Not over the phone. Not when he was still so unsure about the whole thing.

“Bye.” The line clicked dead, leaving JC sitting on the living room floor in the fading sunlight.

It wasn’t that he was afraid to be in love. He’d been completely in love with Josh, at least for a while. He wasn’t the kind of person who didn’t believe in love, or felt that it was never going to happen to him. He was quite sure that he would someday meet the man of his dreams, that they would settle down together, and spend the rest of their lives making each other deliriously happy.

JC’s fear was the opposite- that he fell too quickly, and gave love too easily. He kept his emotions close to the surface, and often times they spilled over to cause heartache. Josh had been the only exception. In every other one of his relationships, he’d ended up with a broken heart.

Lance was. . . special. They’d been friends first, something that JC hadn’t experienced before. They worked together, another new idea. He was smart, and passionate, and really great with kids. JC knew his mom would love Lance. All plusses. And, there was the whole sexier than humanly possible aspect. JC was drawn to Lance in a way he’d never felt before. It wasn’t even about sex, not all of the time. Sometimes, he just wanted to touch Lance, to feel Lance’s hand in his, or his arm around Lance’s shoulders. After only one night together, his bed felt empty without Lance beside him.

JC sighed, and stood up off the floor. He needed to stop dwelling on this, or he was gonna get all freaked out again. Instead, he pulled the bench out from his electric piano and sat down to play.

**

The week went by too quickly with too few glimpses of Lance. Still, JC was happier than he’d been all year. Even being kicked out of the auditorium on Tuesday for the sixth grade Thanksgiving play didn’t bother him. At noon on Wednesday, he’d sent the kids home with instruments in hands, wishing them a happy Thanksgiving and reminding them to practice over the long weekend. Then he took the stairs two at a time to reach the eighth grade wing.

Lance was packing up his messenger bag when JC found him.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Mr. Bass,” JC sang in a high pitched imitation of a thirteen year old girl.

“Hey,” Lance said, happily surprised. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you before you left.”

“I wanted to say goodbye,” JC replied. He started to step forward, but restrained himself. They were still in school, after all. “Are you all set to leave?”

Lance nodded. “Joey’s taking me to the airport in a few hours.”

“I wanted to give you my parents’ phone number.” JC handed Lance a piece of paper. Lance studied the number, then tucked it into his wallet. He jotted down a number on a Post-It and handed it to JC. “My parents’ house. Just don’t call after ten unless you want me beheaded.”

JC laughed lightly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Me too.” Lance walked around his desk, grabbing his coat on the way. JC followed, hitting the lights as they walked out of the room.

“This is gonna be such a boring weekend,” Lance whined, as they headed back down the stairs.

“Poor baby.”

Lance paused, and studied JC, amused. “You’re supposed to say, “me too.””

“Sorry. My friend Justin’s spending the holiday with my family, so I’m probably not gonna be bored.”

“Justin, the basketball player?” Lance asked. They’d reached the bottom of the stairs, and stood in the tiny back alcove by the door to the faculty lot.

“Yeah. His family can’t afford to fly him home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, so he’s staying with me and my parents. Has for the past few years.”

“That’s nice of you.” Lance pulled his gloves out of his pockets, but before he slipped them on, he glanced around and, seeing no one, lightly touched JC’s cheek. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he said.

JC lightly kissed Lance’s palm. “I wish I could kiss you goodbye,” he whispered.

“Me too,” Lance said, his voice quiet.

“I’ll see you Monday, I guess.”

Lance dropped his hand, and tugged on his gloves. Opening the door, cold air rushed into the tiny stairwell. JC and Lance stepped out into the frigid air, parting ways in the emptying lot for the long weekend apart.

**

The drive was long and tedious. JC kept daydreaming and passing his exit, so it took longer than expected to reach his home. His mother had held dinner, however, and wonderful smells of chicken and biscuits greeted him when JC walked in the door.

“JC! Oh, honey, we’ve missed you! How was your trip?” His mother met him in the front hall, and helped him with the bags. He looked into the kitchen to see his sister and brother picking carrots out of a bowl on the table. Tyler looked up and waved.

“You can unpack after dinner, we’ve been waiting for you,” his mother was saying. JC peeled off his scarf and jacket. After hanging both in the closet, he sat down to dinner, smiled at his father, said grace, and dug into dinner. It was good to be home.

After the meal, JC was excused from dish duty to unpack. He headed up to his old bedroom, put his few items of clothes away, then wandered back into the kitchen, where his mom was just sitting down with a cup of tea. She started to get up to fix him one, but he waved her back down and stuck a mug in the microwave for himself.

“So, tell me all about being a teacher,” his mom said, warmly.

JC groaned. “Mom, I talk to you on the phone every week. I’ve told you it all already.”

“Oh, come on. I’m sure you’ve got some new stories. How do your groups sound? Are they ready for the concert?”

JC shrugged. “Depends on the day. Sometimes they’re good, sometimes they’re not.”

“How’s that girl you’re giving lessons to?” his mother asked.

“Taylor? She’s great.” The microwave dinged, and JC pulled out the mug of hot water, dumped in a few teaspoons of sugar and an apple cinnamon tea bag. He pulled out a chair across from his mother to sit and stir the tea. “She’s probably the best student I have, in terms of raw talent.”

“It’s so nice, what you’re doing for her.” His mother beamed at him.

JC inhaled the spicy scent of the tea, and wrapped his hands around the mug to warm them. “It’s nothing. I don’t mind giving extra time to someone who wants to improve.”

His mother reached across the table and rubbed his hand. ‘You’re such a good boy.”

JC rolled his eyes, just a little. Moms. “Thanks.”

“So, other than school, what have you been doing with yourself up there?”

JC looked up, cautiously. ‘What do you mean?”

“Well,” his mother said, exasperated, “every week you tell me all about your classes, about school, but you never say what else you’re doing. Don’t tell me you spend all the rest of your time sleeping, Joshua. I won’t hear of that.”

JC grinned. “Nah. I’m still writing. You know, cause I’m planning to go back to LA as soon as I save up some money.” His mother was unmistakably quiet. He knew she didn’t like the idea of him in California, so he quickly changed the subject. “I’ve been hanging out with one of the other teachers a lot.”

“Really,” she asked, and he nodded in reply. “Someone from your school, then?”

JC nodded again. “Yeah. His name’s Lance Bass. He lives in the same area as me, and he kinda showed me around back in September. I dunno, we’ve just gotten to be good friends. We go out on the weekends and stuff.”

His mother eyed him carefully. “Go out, as in friends, or as in more?”

JC blushed. “We’ve just started to date, I guess. It’s still pretty new, but we were friends for a while.”

“Joshua,” she said, and whoa, full name. He raised his eyes to meet her. “You love him, don’t you?”

JC blushed deeper, not knowing how to reply. “I think I might be able to,” he said.

His mother paused, biting her lip. JC squirmed uncomfortably and took a sip of tea.

“I just want you to be happy, honey.”

“I am, Mom.” And he was, when he thought about it. Which was a surprise, because if anyone’d ever told him that he’d be happy living in a bumfuck town in Pennsylvania teaching junior high music classes, he’d have called them crazy and laughed in their face. But he was happy, because of Lance, and it kinda made all the other stuff worthwhile.

**

Justin showed up early Thursday morning. After greeting JC’s parents, he camped out on the couch with JC and Tyler, ready for a day long football marathon. JC only watched football on Thanksgiving, when they had a complex betting ritual that had to be dealt with as part of the family tradition. This year, winner got to take home the leftover dessert, and loser had to do all of the dishes.

During a commercial break, Justin turned to JC and asked “So, how’s the boy?”, causing Tyler to spit out a mouthful of apple cider all over himself.

“Jesus, Justin.” JC handed his brother a towel. Tyler made a disgusted face, attempting to clean cider off of his sweater.

“What? Was I not supposed to say anything?”

Tyler pointed at the TV. “Football. Manly sport. Save the sex stuff for later, when I don’t have to hear about the details.” JC sighed. Tyler was practically a monk. He was painfully shy about any kind of sex talk. JC had always wanted to sneak into Tyler’s health class during sex ed month, just to see his brother turning many different shades of purple at the diagrams on the board.

“Sorry,” Justin muttered, not used to having to censor himself. JC smiled a little at him, and mouthed “very good.”

Justin smiled, a big ear-to-ear grin, and gave JC the thumbs up sign. “I want details,” he mouthed back, “later.” The commercial break ended, and Justin’s team was up by seven in the fourth quarter, so the focus shifted back to the television.

As it turned out, Tyler won the big football bet, and JC’s father lost, leaving both JC and Justin free and clear after dinner to make their way up to JC’s room and hang out.

“I always feel like I’m back in high school when I’m back here,” JC said, staring at the walls. It was more a guest room than anything else, now, but there were still little touches that made it his. The dent in the closet door from one of his guitar cases, the print of John Williams conducting the Boston Pops that hung over the bed, the built-in CD rack his father had made him.

“I know. That’s what Tennessee’s like for me.” Justin was sprawled across a wingback chair under the window, facing JC, who was sitting on the bed. “So, quit stalling. I want details.”

JC sighed. “Ok. His name is Lance. Well, actually, it’s James, but he goes by Lance because- “

“Stop, stop, stop. Start over. The important stuff.” JC sighed. He folded a pillow in half and stuck it under his head.

“He’s 24. Blonde hair, these gorgeous green eyes that are just translucent, they’re like, see-through. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It is. He’s shorter than me, not much, just enough that we fit really well together, you know?”

“Mmmm. Sounds perfect.” Justin said, closing his eyes so he could better picture Lance.

“He is. He’s incredibly smart. He went to UPENN, only for a real degree, not music like me.”

“Music’s a real degree,” Justin argued.

“Is not,” JC said dismissively, “but whatever, that’s not the point. He was a double major in math and astronomy. He’s fascinated with space, he almost trained to be an astronaut. He’s an incredible teacher, the kids just love him so much. And he’s so good with them, I’ve seen how he can just make a kid feel better on a bad day, or break up a fight before it starts, and it’s just. He’s amazing.”

“Oh, God. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Justin asked.

JC rolled over and sat up, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. “I think so.”

“JC.” Justin waited until JC looked at him. “You know me, of all people, believes in love, romance. I just. I don’t want you to get hurt, and dating someone you work with, especially in a job where being gay is not really accepted by a lot of people- you could get really badly burned.”

JC sighed. “That’s a totally useless argument, because I’m not planning to do this for the rest of my life, so even if someone did find out, I’d just quit and go find another job. That’s be fine, whatever.”

Justin looked at his friend patiently. “But what about Lance? Can you say the same about him?”

JC sat, frozen. He’d never thought of it that way. Lance’s job was his life, and he was essentially risking it to be with JC. Wow. That’s just. Wow.

“Can you ask him to do that for you?” Justin asked.

JC looked up, scowling. “I’m not asking him to do anything. I never forced him to do anything.”

Justin held up his hands to fend off the sudden verbal attack. “Hey, hey. I’m just trying to look out for you, man.”

JC sighed. “I know. It’s just very new right now, and it’s a little overwhelming.”

Justin smiled. “That’s probably a good sign- it means it’s real.”

“You think?”

Justin nodded. “Sure. Hey, you left out one thing.”

“What’s that?” JC asked curiously.

“What’s he like in bed?” Justin asked with a big smile.

“Perv,” JC replied, and tossed his pillow at Justin, causing the two men to break into a fit of giggles.

Lance called on Friday night, and JC’s mother answered the phone. He and Justin were watching the third Austin Powers movie in the den when his mom wandered in with the cordless phone.

“That sounds lovely, Lance. Your mother must be an excellent cook.” At the mention of Lance’s name, JC whipped his head around to see his mother standing in the doorway.

“All right. Here’s JC. You have yourself a nice Thanksgiving weekend.” His mother handed him the phone, and JC grabbed it a little to eagerly from her hand, causing Justin to laugh.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound cool.

“Hi.” Lance’s voice was warm and deep, and even through the phone, it sent little tingling sensations down JC’s spine. “Your mom sounds nice.”

JC groaned. “Whatever she said to you, please ignore it.”

“She was very polite,” Lance laughed. “She said I should make you drive us down for a visit some weekend.”

“God, she’d love that.” JC shuddered at the thought. He loved his mom, but she coddled him horribly. “Anyway, how’s Mississippi?”

“Lonely,” Lance said. JC smiled, and couldn’t help but be a little happy at that. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

Justin, by this point, had paused the movie and turned his attention to JC and the phone. He was currently making a gagging motion, sticking his finger down his throat. JC batted him with his free hand, trying to make him stop.

“Did you have a nice time with your family?” Lance asked.

“Yeah. Justin’s here too, but he’s starting to get on my nerves.” Justin stuck out his tongue, and yelled out “Hi, Lance!”

“Did you hear that?” JC asked.

“Yeah,” Lance replied. “What’re y’all doing?”

“Just watching a movie. Your accent sounds heavier.” JC smiled. It was kinda sweet, actually. He could picture Lance blushing through the phone.

“Side effect of being down here. It’ll go away when I get back home.”

“Too bad,” JC said. “I kinda like it.”

“Really? Cuz, I can be surely findin’ ways to make it last a bit longa,” Lance drawled, causing JC to laugh. Justin looked at him, mouthing “what, what?”

“Hey, I’ll let you get back to your movie,” Lance said, once the giggling had died down.

“Are you flying back in on Sunday?” JC asked.

“Yeah. Joey’s supposed to pick me up. My flight gets in around four.”

“OK. I guess I’ll see you on Monday morning then.”

“Sure. You know this is the first weekend we haven’t been together since September?”

“Wow.” JC hadn’t even thought of that. “Next weekend’ll have to be extra special.”

“Definitely.” Lance’s voice had gone low, causing JC’s body to react with instant arousal. “Bye.”

“Bye, Lance,” JC whispered, and clicked off the phone.

“Bye, Lance,” Justin chanted in a high squeaky voice. JC snapped out of his reverie to pound Justin with a throw pillow, which he promptly stuffed behind his back. He fumbled with the remote and turned the movie on. “You’re such a sap.”

Pillowless, JC chose not to reply. Instead, he focused on all the things that he and Lance could do next weekend to make up for their lost time. He realized when the credits were rolling that he’d completely missed the end of the movie.

**

JC walked into school on Monday refreshed and awake. He made it through three periods of rehearsals before finding time to duck into the office. There was an index card in his mailbox with a smiley face on it.

Later on, while his general music class was in the library researching composers, he saw Lance walk by. Signaling to the librarian, he ducked out the door.

“Mr. Bass,” he called.

Lance turned around, all smiles.

“I got your memo.”

“You did?” Lance took a few steps back towards the library. “Good.”

“How many days until the weekend?” JC kept one eye trained on the activity in the library.

Lance’s voice was quiet but strong. “Too many. Come over this afternoon?”

“Sure.”

“I’ve gotta go, I’ve got lunch duty.” Lance made his way down the corridor, but turned back to smile at JC before rounding the corner.

The day dragged, but JC managed to get through it. He forced himself to focus on the task, and actually managed to put Lance out of his mind until the final bell rang. He ran into the Vice Principal on his way upstairs to Lance’s room.

“Mr. Chasez, how’s everything going?”

“Good, it’s really good.” JC reluctantly stopped to talk to Mr. Wright.

“Good. Good. I was a little worried about you at first, but I’m hearing good things.” JC was surprised, but pleased. Maybe he wasn’t as much of a mess as he thought.

Lance came down the stairs just then, so JC said goodbye to Mr. Wright and made a hasty exit with Lance.

“See you in a few,” Lance said as they climbed into separate cars.

Later on, they lay together in the fading sunlight on Lance’s couch. They hadn’t even made it to the bedroom, just fallen on the couch and rubbed against each other until they came, exploding with desires pent up from the weekend apart. Lance had dragged down a fleece throw from the back of the sofa and now they lay curled together in the amber sun.

“I missed this.” JC’s voice was breathy and light in Lance’s ear.

“Me too. I think that was the longest four days ever.”

JC stroked Lance’s short hair, pulling it into spikes and flattening it down again. “Mmmm. Not just this though. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Lance aimlessly rubbed the ridges of the muscles in JC’s arm, holding him tight so he wouldn’t fall off of the couch.

The words were on the tip of JC’s tongue again, but he didn’t say them. Instead, he pressed a kiss to the top of Lance’s forehead, right where his hair began. There was a song in his head, something without words but such strong emotion it almost brought tears to his eyes.

**

Joey was having a holiday party that weekend, and Lance insisted on bringing JC.

“He really wants to meet you,” Lance explained. “And I want you to meet him. It’ll be fun, his parties are always a blast.”

JC decided Lance was telling the truth before they even got into the house. He could hear the music from the end of the driveway, and people spilled out the front door onto the screen porch, despite the cold temperatures.

“Poofu!” A broad man with a goatee and red tipped hair grabbed onto Lance as soon as they made it into the house, pulling him into a giant hug. JC saw Lance blushing when the man let him go.

“Please, Joey. Could you at least wait until I’m out of my coat before you start embarrassing me?”

The other man stuck out his hand. “You must be JC. I’m Joey.”

Joey had a firm grip and warm smile. “Hi.” JC turned slightly to Lance. “Poofu?”

“I never told you how Joey and I met?” Lance asked. JC shook his head. “We used to work at Dorney Park together. Joey was a ride operator-“

“-And Lance dressed up as a big Dalmatian named Poofu and sold balloons!” Joey finished with glee.

“I was one of the lower points in my life,” Lance said.

JC squeezed his hand. “Trust me, I’m the KING of bad jobs.”

“Look at you guys!” Joey exclaimed. “You’re so cute together!” Lance blushed again, and JC smiled. “I so glad Lance brought you. He’s been alone for too long.”

“Alright, enough,” Lance said. “We’re gonna go get some drinks.” He tugged JC back towards the kitchen, and the beer.

Joey was part of a local theater group that performed children’s plays, so a lot of his party guests were also actors, and rather strange ones. JC, used to the artistic temperament, fit right in. He ended up talking to a girl wearing all purple about Broadway and the benefits versus downfalls of the Disney influence. They debated for nearly an hour before JC realized that Lance had wandered off. He politely excused himself and headed toward the kitchen in search of Lance- or another beer. He found the beer first, digging an Octoberfest out of the back of the fridge. He was just closing the refrigerator door when someone called his name.

“Mr. Chasez.”

JC looked around, his eyes settling on a familiar looking man with dark hair.

“That’s you, right?”

“Yeah. . .” JC said hesitantly.

The other man laughed. “I’m sorry. Chris Kirkpatrick, Taylor’s dad.”

JC relaxed, remembering who he was. “Right, sorry.”

“It’s OK,” Chris laughed. “How are you?”

“Good. Good, man, how are you?”

“Good. Getting used to having a kid around, still, but it’s good, things are good.”

“Good.” JC took a sip of beer and leaned against the counter.

“So, hey, you’re a friend of Joey’s then?” Chris asked.

“No, I came with a friend who’s friends with Joey. He seems to have wandered away, though.”

“Cool. I build sets for Joe’s theater troupe. That’s how I know him.”

“Oh, right, you’re a carpenter.”

“Mmm,” Chris nodded. “Hey, I gotta thank you again for Taylor’s lessons. She really loves them.” He smiled gently. “It’s good to see her happy.”

“She’s a great kid.”

Lance wandered into the room then, and made his way over to JC. He wrapped his arms around JC’s shoulders. “Hey, baby.” He pressed a kiss to JC’s cheek. “I thought I’d lost you.”

JC smiled weakly, watching Chris’s reaction. He could see shock cross Chris’s face, then the other man averted his eyes.

Lance squeezed JC’s shoulders and turned to Chris. “Hey, man. You’re the carpenter, right?”

Chris nodded. “Lance, this is Chris Kirkpatrick,” JC said, and swallowed. “Chris’s daughter is in the chorus and takes vocal lessons from me.”

Lance slowly withdrew his arm from JC’s shoulder. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Chris shifted uncomfortably. “You’re Joey’s friend, right? I think he’s mentioned you- from Dorney Park?”

Lance’s mouth turned up in a small smile. “Yeah.”

“So, you two are a…” Chris gestured with his beer.

“Um.” JC looked at Lance, for some kind of confirmation. “Yeah. We are.”

“Cool.” Chris paused, seeing the uncertain looks of the other two men. “No, really,” he laughed. “I’m just surprised cause I hear Taylor and her friends all the time, and they’re so in love with Mr. Chasez. I just never figured. So, yeah. There’s gonna be a lot of disappointed girls at that school when this gets out.”

“Chris, if you don’t mind. We really don’t want it to get out. So if you could not say anything…”

Chris mimicked zipping his mouth closed. “My lips are sealed man. Not a word.”

“Thanks,” Lance said. “It’s just, not something you wanna advertise at school.”

“I gotcha. Really,” Chris said, when Lance still looked hesitant.

“OK.” Lance smiled. “I’m gonna go find Joey. See you later?” he asked JC.

“I’ll be here.” JC ran his hand up Lance’s back as the other man walked away.

“So, where is Taylor tonight?” he asked Chris.

“At a sleepover. She’s got a new group of friends- Aimee Past, Jessica McDonald?”

“They’re good kids,” JC replied smiling. “I’m glad she’s fitting in.”

“Me too.” Chris scratched his head. “Hey, Joey’s got a video game system set up in the other room I’ve been dying to check out. Wanna go see if it’s free?”

“Sure.” JC picked up his beer and followed Chris. “I gotta tell you, though. I suck at those things.”

Chris turned back and grinned evilly over his shoulder. “Excellent.”

It turned out that Chris was some kind of video game connoisseur, humiliatingly defeating JC at just about every game they tried.

“I swear. I totally lost at everything, except one round. I just pressed, like, every button at the same time and just “wham,” the guy on the screen did this weird kick thing and Chris’s guy’s head exploded and there was blood dripping down the screen.” JC was giving Lance an animated recap of the night’s happenings on the way home.

“Eew.”

“It was cool.” JC sat back in the seat, grinning.

“I’m glad you had a good time. I was worried, I didn’t think you’d know anyone.”

“It was fun,” JC said. “Did you have a good time?”

“Mmm.” Lance steered the car into JC’s driveway and put it in park. “I did.”

JC reached for the door handle, paused, and looked back at Lance. “Do you want to come up?”

Lance licked his lips. His face was shrouded in dark shadows, making it hard for JC to read his expression. “Yeah.”

“It’s not much.” JC led Lance up the back staircase to his second story apartment. Flipping on the light, he gestured around the apartment. “I’ve been meaning to pick up some furniture.”

Lance ran his hand along the back of the futon and smiled. “It’s OK.” He turned and pulled JC to him. “The most important part is right here.”

**

A week to go, and JC was stressed. The concert was on Friday night, the last day of school before the Christmas vacation. This was basically a job evaluation, but more than that, it was a measure of his ability with music. So when things weren’t up to his standard, he was stressed.

“Adam- for the thousandth time, piano means soft. If you can’t do it right, I’ll take you off the part. Kaylee, you come in on three, not four. Why haven’t you been practicing? Jenna- that was the worst yet. What are you gonna do if you still can’t play that by Friday?”

His orchestra class stared up at him, stunned. “Well? Come on, guys. I’d be embarrassed to sound like you do.”

The bell rang, prompting the students to hastily retreat from the stage and pack up. He heard one student mutter “God, Mr. Chasez, we’re trying, OK? We can’t all be perfect like you.” Before he could find out who had said it, though, his eyes fell upon on girl who hadn’t moved from the stage.

“Jenna, class is over, go pack up.” The young girl looked up at him. Her face was blotchy, eyes wet with tears. Oh God, JC thought. Here we go. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m really, really tryin’ Mr. Chasez. Really. And I practice as much as I can, but I hafta babysit after school and do homework and stuff, so I don’t have a lotta time. But I’m tryin’ and you keep yelling at me, and it just makes me mess up MORE!”

JC sat down backward in one of the folding chairs. “Look,” he began. “I know you want to play better, but what you’re doing now isn’t improving.”

“I just get so nervous. I can do it perfectly at home, but I always forget everything when I get in here.”

JC absently rubbed his neck. “Look, if I promise not to yell so much, will you relax a little? You’ve only got one more week with this music, then we get some new songs. But it’s only gonna get harder. I mean, you’ll be wishing for Trepek. What you need to do is just find a way to work past the nerves, OK?”

Jenna nodded, and brushed the tears from her eyes.

“Here- you gotta get going.” JC scribbled a hall pass and took off down the hall to his general music class, just making it into the room before the bell ending passing time rang.

The incident was only the beginning. He was getting grief from the other teachers for his extra rehearsals during school time. Two more kids ended up in tears, one broke a cello, and several parents called, wanting to ensure that they would be able to see their child on stage during the concert.

By Friday afternoon, JC was a wreck. He hadn’t had a moment to breathe or think about anything other than his classes all week. He couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over, so he could get back to his music, back to Lance, and back to his life.

He sat down around five o’clock in the music office, a tiny windowless room off the backstage area in the auditorium. He’d brought his suit with him to school, and now had about an hour to eat some dinner and get dressed before the kids began to arrive. In the short hour he had, the last thing he needed was the nervous butterflies in his stomach. “You can do this,” he whispered to himself. “They’re counting on you, you can do this.”

“You can, you know,” a deep voice responded. JC popped his head up to see Lance standing in front of him.

“Hi.” Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hey.” JC smiled up at Lance. “Nervous?”

JC let out a long breath. “You have no idea.”

Lance laughed and sat down in one of the chairs in front of JC’s desk. “You’ll be fine.”

“Not likely.” JC leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He sighed. “The kids are so not ready for this, it’s gonna be horrible.”

“JC.” Lance waited until his boyfriend looked at him. “It’s a junior high Christmas concert. I’d be concerned if it wasn’t horrible.”

JC stared at Lance through narrowed eyes. “So, what, you were expecting me to do a bad job?”

“What? No.” Lance leaned forward on JC’s desk. “I think it’s amazing how well you’ve done with the kids. You’ve come so far since September. You’ve done a great job, inspiring them to be better and to really get into the music. It’s amazing. I just meant that maybe you’re expecting too much. Thing of how they sounded in September, and how they sound now. It’s a million times better, I’m sure. That’s what matters, here.”

JC looked at Lance, his eyes full of compassion and love. “Thanks. I guess I kinda needed to hear that.”

Lance began to reach for JC, then stopped. He rose, kicked the door shut with a resounding ‘thud’, and moved around the desk to stand between JC’s legs. He wove his hands into JC’s silky hair, fixing JC’s gaze with his. “You’re gonna be great tonight.”

JC rested his hands on Lance’s hips, feeling the rough khaki material beneath his palms. The heat of Lance’s body warmed his cool fingertips through the material. “You’re gonna be there, right?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Lance beamed down at JC.

JC pulled Lance close, resting his head on Lance’s stomach. “I love you,” he murmured, more for his own sake than Lance’s.

Lance’s hand stilled in JC’s hair, holding JC’s head close to his body. JC held his breath, hoping he hadn’t spoken too soon.

“You beat me,” Lance finally said, drawing back so he could look upon JC. “I was gonna say it tonight, after the concert.”

“You were?”

Lance nodded, then dropped down to one knee to he was face-to-face with JC. “You beat me to it.”

“You still haven’t said it,” JC whispered faintly.

“I love you.” Lance’s voice was warm and soft, and full of emotion. His green-gold eyes glittered and his mouth curved in a gentle smile.

JC pressed a delicate kiss to the corner of Lance’s mouth, soft and brief. He rested his cheek against Lance’s, the rough skin prickling his face with thousands of hypersensitive sparks of joy.

“I have to get ready,” JC whispered close to Lance’s ear. Lance nodded and drew back, slowly standing.

“I’ll meet you after the concert?” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question. Neither man would have dreamed of spending that special night apart.

“Yes.” JC watched with a small smile as Lance left his office. He then shook his head, trying to refocus on the music he needed to conduct that night.

**

The groups had sounded good. It wasn’t the symphony, for sure, but it was a pretty decent group of middle school musicians. The energy from the concert was still coursing through his blood as he said goodbye to the last of the parents and began to fold up the chairs.

Lance, JC decided, was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He felt on fire from the excitement of the night, most of which had come from Lance. Knowing he was in the audience, watching, made JC want to do his best. It was all of the extra incentive he needed to inspire the students to perform well.

JC was stacking the chairs on rolling racks at the back of the stage when he heard footsteps approaching.

“You know what I realized tonight?” Lance asked.

“What?”

“You’ve got a great ass.”

JC’s jaw dropped in shock and Lance laughed. “Cause sitting out there, watching you conduct? That was like, two hours of staring at your ass, and now I just wanna get home and peel that suit off and. Well, you can imagine the rest. So can these chair wait until after vacation?” Lance tugged JC by the tie, dragging him to the door.

“Hey.” JC stopped walking, and Lance turned to face him. “I love you,” JC said quietly.

“I love you too.” Lance smiled. “Did you forget already?”

JC shook his head. “Nope. Just wanted to hear it again. C’mon, I’ll race you home.”

They made it as far as the parking lot when Taylor Kirkpatrick came running over to them.

“Mr. Chasez! You gotta come here for a second!”

“Taylor, I thought you left already.” JC looked helplessly at Lance, frustrated at the delay. He wanted to be home and naked. Now.

“Not yet. Me ‘n my dad have a Christmas present for you!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards a large van in the corner of the lot. Lance trailed behind.

Chris was standing beside the van. He smiled at JC, then at Lance. “Sorry to take up your time, Mr. Chasez,” he said with a smile. “I can see you’re anxious to get home.” He cast a secret glance back to Lance, who smiled. “We’ll be quick, but Taylor wanted to give you your Christmas present now.”

“C’mon.” She pulled JC around the rear of the van and threw open the doors. Inside was a massive table made of dark wood. The legs were intricately carved, matching the backs of four chairs that lay on and under the table.

“Oh, my God. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Lit by the tiny overhead light, the wood gleamed.

“It’s a thank you for the lessons. You said you didn’t have a table so my dad said we could make you one. I helped!” Taylor was jabbering on, but JC stood, stunned. He turned to Chris.

“I can’t accept this. It’s too much.”

“No. You giving her lessons every week without pay is too much. This is no where near enough to repay you.”

JC’s eyes were swelling with tears, and he struggled to keep them from falling. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Chris stepped forward. “C’mon, Taylor. We’ll drop this over at Mr. Chasez’s place and then go out for ice cream.” She jumped from the back of the van, and ran to the front door. JC walked over and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re a special girl, Taylor. Thank you.” To his surprise, she whirled and wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” she cried. “And you’re a really special teacher.”

“We’ll follow you, if that’s OK. Or else you can come and pick it up some time, if you’re in a hurry to get somewhere?” Chris looked over at Lance, who stood a few yards away. He shook his head.

“No hurry. JC, you’ll come by as soon as this is all set?” JC nodded, watching as Lance got into his car. He unlocked his own vehicle and led Chris back to this apartment.

They got the table up the narrow staircase, thanks to Chris’s foresight to use removable legs. JC waved goodbye to Chris and Taylor as they drove off, then hopped into his car and sped over to Lance’s as fast as possible.

The exterior door was propped open when he arrived, and JC took the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. Lance had left his door cracked, and JC slowly pushed it open to behold the sight inside.

The living room was dark, but JC could see a warm glow coming from the bedroom. He made his way down the short hall, stepping out of his shoes and wrangling off his tie as he went.

Inside, Lance stood by the small dresser, lighting candles. Soft music played from the stereo in the corner, magical sounds that transported JC to another time and place, where just he and Lance existed. The room smelled like some kind of spicy cologne, entoxicating JC as soon as he inhaled the scent. In the midst of the flickering light, Lance stood. He placed the lighter on the dresser and turned to face JC.

“Wow,” JC breathed. “This is beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful.” Lance reached for JC, and he came. The two men stood wrapped in each others’ arms, bodies pressed together. Lance linked his hands in the small of JC’s back, holding him close. “I love you.”

JC bent his head into the crook of Lance’s neck, feeling the smooth skin of Lance’s cheek against his ear. Lance must have shaved, he thought absently, as he inhaled the scent of Lance’s soap and shampoo, tasted the skin beneath Lance’s ear. “I love you.”

“JC.” Lance’s voice was husky, laced with desire. JC could feel Lance’s body shuddering as JC tongued and sucked his earlobe. “I want to make love with you.”

JC drew back, a little, so he was nose to nose with Lance. “Me too.”

Lance leaned forward with a searching kiss, parting JC’s lips with his tongue, probing deeper. JC opened his lips to Lance, tangling with him in a duel of heat and slickness.

Lance pulled back, just a bit, drawing his hands up to rest on JC’s chest. “Can I make love to you?”

“Yes.” There wasn’t even a thought process here. JC just knew he needed to be close to Lance, and the idea of having Lance inside of him was almost too much for his over sensitized system to process. As it was, his pants were unbearingly tight around his groin, his erection straining to be set free.

“I’ve never let someone inside of me,” Lance continued quietly, “but I want you too. I’m just not ready tonight.”

JC nodded. “I want you to make love to me. Now. There’s time for everything else later.” He ran his hands down from Lance’s shoulders to work at the buttons on Lance’s shirt. Underneath, Lance wore a white tank undershirt. JC groaned in frustration. “Too many layers,” he muttered, tugging the material free so his hands could reach Lance’s stomach. A bit of softness over firm muscle, and JC pressed his palm flat against Lance’s sides. “Mine,” he whispered, as he leaned down to kiss Lance.

“Yours. Mine.” Lance worked at the buckle on JC’s belt, fumbling to get it free. He struggled with the button and zipper, finally pulling JC’s pants down to his ankles. JC felt a whoosh of cool air on the back of his thighs, and stepped forward, causing Lance to fall back against the bed.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, as he drew Lance’s shirt down his shoulders and lifted Lance’s body so his arms pulled free from the sleeves. JC dragged Lance’s wifebeater up his chest, kissing each inch he uncovered. Lance’s skin glowed in the candlelight, so hot JC wondered if it could burn his lips. He could feel the bulge of Lance’s erection pressing against his own, and hurried to get Lance’s shirt off so he could pay attention to other parts of his body.

“JC,” Lance breathed, as his pants were drawn away. He felt JC slip a hand inside his boxers and graze the top of his throbbing cock. It pulsed with the touch, leaking on his abdomen as JC drew away the cotton material to leave Lance bare to the world. “Please.”

JC wasn’t sure what Lance was asking for, so he took a guess and licked a long line up Lance’s cock, lingering just below the head with his tongue, rubbing the sensitive nerves there. Lance bucked up, his hands coming to rest on JC’s head. JC sucked gently, then drew back. Lance stared up dazed.

“Do you have. . .?” JC didn’t get to finish the sentence before Lance was rolling over, grabbing a small wooden box from his nightstand. He withdrew a tube and foil package. He placed them beside him on the bed, and pulled JC under him.

Slowly, he shed JC’s underwear. JC sighed when the tight confines were removed, kicking off the material. He giggled when it stuck on his ankle, a sound that was absorbed in Lance’s mouth as the younger man leaned down to kiss JC. His mouth was warm and moist, sending messages of lust and love together, a message JC received and returned without saying a word. Pressed together, the two men moved against one another, savoring the feeling as one cock rubbed against the other.

“Now,” JC whispered, pushing Lance off of him reluctantly. He didn’t want to let go, but knew he had to if they were ever going to get past this point. “I need you now.”

“Baby,” Lance said, his voice deep. “I need you always.” Then he was dealing with the condom and lubing his fingers. When he pressed the first one in, JC groaned and struggled to move into a more comfortable position.

“Do you wanna do this the other way?” Lance asked, rubbing JC’s knee with his free hand.

“No, no.” JC let out a long sigh and relaxed against Lance’s hand. “I wanna see you.” He shifted again, then moaned loudly. “There. There. More now. More.” He reached down, trying to hold Lance’s hand in place. Lance conceded and added a second finger, then a third, until JC was begging him to do it, now, please.

When Lance pressed into JC, both men held their breath. Then, in one long exhalation, Lance buried himself in JC. He leaned forward, until their bodies were completely aligned, touching from top to bottom. JC wrapped his ankles around Lance’s back and bucked up against Lance. “Move.”

“You’re bossy in bed.” Lance smiled down at JC. JC tightened his ass in response, causing Lance’s eyes to roll back into his head at the sensation. JC lifted his lips to Lance, fusing their mouths together in one long, languid kiss. Their bodies rose and fell together, until JC could feel Lance shuddering above him. JC’s own cock pulsed between them, and he stroked it with long sure strides that matched Lance’s movements into and out of his body. He felt like his body was nothing more than a giant nerve, being overly stimulated at every point, from the edge of his hair to deep inside of him. He could feel Lance moving inside, sending waves of pleasure with each stroke. His mind reeled trying to keep up with the emotion while pure physical sensation dominated his body. When Lance’s body tensed, JC opened his eyes just in time to see Lance explode inside him. He watched as Lance’s face tightened then released, completely relaxed and overcome with feeling as he emptied himself into JC. JC stoked himself harder, and came when Lance opened his eyes, the moment he saw the love and need reflected in there.

Exhausted, Lance pulled out of JC slowly and collapsed on JC, head buried beside JC’s head. “Wow,” he whispered.

JC wrapped Lance in his arms. “Wow.”

“This is just.” Lance paused. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just say that you love me.” JC’s voice was tired, no more than a slight breath against Lance’s ear.

“I love you.”

**

Christmas vacation ended too soon, as far was JC was concerned. He cursed his alarm when it sounded, slamming his fist down onto the clock to stop the blaring radio.

“Hey, sleepy.” A voice called to him, and he felt a dip in the side of the bed. “Time to get up.”

“I don’t wanna go to school today. I’m sick.” JC faked a cough, hoping for some sympathy.

”Nice try. I’m going now. I’ll see you there later, OK?” JC finally opened his eyes to see Lance dressed for work, complete with a snowman tie.

“Sexy tie.” JC rubbed his eyes and sat up. Lance pressed a kiss to his forehead and stood.

“There’s coffee on the counter.” As he left, JC swung his legs over the side of the bed in search of his slippers. He’d let Lance talk him into staying the night, which was probably a mistake. He needed more sleep if he was gonna be getting up this early in the morning, and having Lance in his bed was not very conducive to sleep. It was probably too soon to be thinking about moving in together or anything like that, but still. It was certainly a nice way to wake up.

He heard Lance’s car start in the driveway, and hurried to get ready so he wouldn’t be late. It was gonna be a good day.

END