Date: Sat, 15 Dec 2001 09:20:00 -0800
From: D S <denis141@hotmail.com>
Subject: ALONE/TOGETHER- Chapter 18 ~ The Gift of a Grateful Heart

This chapter follows on the last one, and continues in the same sort of
non-melodramatic vein, i.e., not a lot happens, and it's mostly dialogue.
For those who find this boring, I apologize.  Most relationships (I think)
are made mostly of talk, and I'm trying to depict that, while also trying to
show how JC and Lance's relationship is becoming, and has become, more
mature.  (I mean, hey, I didn't put the boys through hell for nothing.)  So,
anyway, that's the theme of this chapter, getting older, and maybe wiser,
about the things of the heart, and being grateful for it too, and humble.  I
hope someone likes it.  And for those who didn't, the next chapter will move
back towards more "stuff" happening, and thus will be more "dramatic" in the
conventional sense.  I just didn't want to do drama for drama's sake, this
time.  The email address is the same, denis141@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER:  I don't know any member of NSYNC, and this story, well, I made
the whole damn thing up.  Yeah, and one more thing, this story has male-male
sex in it (sometimes), so, if that's not your thing, or if you aren't old
enough, you should stop reading now.


CHAPTER 18: The Gift of a Grateful Heart.

       		But we are older,
       I to love
       	and you to be loved,
       		we have,
       no matter how,
       	by our wills survived
       		to keep
       the jeweled prize
       	always
       		at our finger tips.
       We will it so
       	and so it is
       		past all accident.

       -- William Carlos Williams, The Ivy Crown (From A Journey to Love,
1955)


	"Are those pants suede?" Lance said, standing up from having just
tied his shoes.

	"Uh-huh," JC said, smiling and tucking in the black, long-sleeve
sweater he'd just pulled on, and then buckling his belt.  "You like?"

	"I like what's in them," Lance said.

	JC laughed and walked into the bathroom.

	"I just have to do battle with my hair, and then I'll be ready."

	"That's fine," Lance said, sticking his head in the bathroom, and
smiling at JC.  "I think we're actually ahead of schedule."

	"No way," JC said, opening his eyes wide in mock surprise.  "That's
a first."

	"Tell me," Lance said, laughing.

	"Do you think this sweater's too much?" JC asked, turning to look
at Lance.
  "I didn't think it would be, you know, so see-through."

	"Didn't you try it on first?" Lance said, watching as JC ran
pomade-slick fingers through his hair.  "Before you bought it?"

	"No," JC said, shrugging. "I hate to try things on at the store."

	"I know," Lance said.  "It is kind of revealing, but not in a bad
way.  Besides, you'll have your jacket on most of the time, so it'll be
fine."

	Lance walked over to where JC was still working on his hair, and
kissed the side of his neck, and rubbed his hand up and down his back.

	"That feels good," JC said, leaning his head back and kissing
Lance.

	"Is that my cologne you're wearing?" Lance asked, kissing JC's neck
again, and continuing to rub his back.

	"Uh-huh," JC said.  "Do you mind?"

	"Not at all."

	JC rinsed the remnants of the pomade from his hands and then dried
them on one of the several fat white towels piled next to the sink.

	"How do I look?" JC asked, taking a step back and turning around.

	"Better than someone with a three year old has any right to, I'd
say."

	"Oh, shut up," JC said, punching Lance softly in the shoulder and
walking past him into the bedroom.  "It's not like I was pregnant or gave
birth or anything."

	"Hey, so how about you and me grabbing a drink downstairs before
the limo gets here?" Lance said, following JC into the bedroom and then
sitting on the edge of the bed.

	"That'd be nice.  What time is it?"

	"Just past four," Lance said, looking at his watching and then back
up at JC.  "The limo doesn't get here until five, so we have time."

	"Okay," JC said, slipping his jacket on.  "But let's call and check
on Aaron first, and tell him good-night."

	"Wait a second," Lance said, pulling JC toward him, and then
slipping his arms up under JC's jacket and around behind his back.

	"Yes?" JC said, resting his chin on Lance's chin, and looking into
his eyes.

	"I just wanted to tell you how much I love you.  And appreciate
you."

	 "Thank you," JC said, almost shyly.

	"You're welcome."

*	*	*	*	*

	"We're almost there," JC whispered, not wanting to startle Lance in
case he had fallen asleep during the drive to the theater.

	"Okay," Lance said, opening his eyes.

	"Are you all right?"

	"I'm fine," Lance said, turning to smile at JC. "And you?"

	"A little nervous.  But I'll be okay."

	"You'll be great."

	"If you say so."

	"I do."

	Lance felt the limousine slow to a stop.  He could hear the clamor
of the crowd just outside the door and knew it would swing open in another
ten seconds or so.  Taking a long slow deep breath, Lance turned toward the
door so that he was ready to step forward out of the limousine, rather than
sliding sideways off the seat, which had always seemed clumsy, and made him
feel unsteady as he stood up.

	"Here are your sunglasses," JC said, handing them to Lance.

	"Thanks," Lance said.

	JC watched as the door swung open and the inside of the limousine
was flooded with sunshine and the sound of people shouting Lance's name.
It had been awhile since he'd been in a situation like this, in public,
with Lance, surrounded by screaming fans and the press, on stage, and
expected to smile and wave.  Slipping his own sunglasses on, JC climbed out
limousine, gripping the edges of the door frame and pulling himself up as
if out of a hole.  Lance was waiting for him beside the door, and as JC
straightened himself and stood next to him, he felt Lance take his hand,
and he was stunned by it.

	"Come on," Lance said, squeezing JC's hand, as if wanting to make
sure that it could not slip away from him.  "Let's go."

	JC followed Lance down the red carpet, smiling, and now squeezing
Lance's hand hard too, squeezing it as if to say, "Don't worry. I won't let
go."

*	*	*	*	*

	"I thought Steve going to freak when he saw us holding hands," JC
said.

	"Soderbergh?"

	"No, your manager."

	"Oh.  Yeah," Lance said, swirling the wine in his glass and then
taking a sip of it.  "He was pretty cool about it though.  Eventually."

	"Yeah, like after his fifth rum and coke."

	Lance laughed and reached across the table and laid his fingertips
on JC's arm, each one in turn, as if he was playing five notes on a piano.
JC was sitting with his back to the wall, and the candle on the table cast
a flickering silhouette of him sitting there, his shoulders softly slumped,
his head held at the slightest of angles, and his eyes wide open, and
nearly unblinking, as if in surprise. He enjoyed the feel of Lance's
fingertips on his arm, the slight pressure, and the warmth.

	"Are you tired?" Lance asked, rubbing JC's arm now and causing
goose-bumps to rise up like Braille dots on soft pale paper.

	"Not really," JC said, after having paused for a moment to think
about it.  "I guess I should be.  But I'm not."

	"Me either," Lance said.

	"I really liked the film," JC said, taking a sip of wine.

	"You always say that."

	"No.  I mean it.  But it was nothing like I expected it to be."

	  "How do you mean?" Lance asked, putting his elbows on the table
and then resting his chin in his upturned hands.

	"I don't know exactly.  I've seen the original like six or seven
times, and so I guess I expected that it would be suspenseful, and sort of
romantic too. Like the original."

	"But it wasn't"

	"No.  This one was...I don't know, it was dark, and almost mean.
Your character, Devlin, seemed so angry, like you hated her...what's her
name?"

	"Alicia Huberman."

	"Yeah, her.  It was like you hated the fact that she was attracted
to you, and maybe in love with you.  And you hated yourself too, for
wanting her, like you knew that wanting her was a dangerous mistake you
couldn't stop yourself from making."

	"You think?" Lance said, lifting his head up from where it had
rested in his hands.  "You really think so?"

	"I do.  And that one scene, where you know she wants you to kiss
her, and she's taunting you.  What does she say?  Something like, 'It makes
you sick all over, doesn't it? People will laugh at you.  The invincible
Devlin, in love with someone who isn't worth even wasting the words on.
Poor Dev, in love with a no-good gal.  It must be awful.'  It's such a
great line."

	"It is," Lance said, quietly.

	"But my God, what was so intense was how Soderbergh kept the camera
on you the whole time, just showing your face, and that look on it as she
spit those words at you, until you finally kiss her, like you're just
trying to shut her up, because you know if she doesn't shut up you'll
probably kill her."

	"Not like Cary Grant, huh?" Lance said.

	"It sure as hell wasn't."

	"We shot that scene a bunch of times," Lance said, closing his eyes
for a moment, as if to better remember it, and then cringing when he did.
"Soderbergh shot it from every angle you can imagine.  It took hours and
hours, and I remember being so pissed at how long it was taking, and
wanting to just run away.  So maybe some of that came through."

	"No," JC said.  "There was more to it than that.  Because, right
after the kiss, you get this look of total disgust on your face. Not like
you're disgusted with her, but like you're disgusted with yourself...for
being so weak, and for giving in to her."

	Lance laughed nervously, and reached for JC's hand, and held it.

	"Let's not talk about this anymore," Lance said, quietly.  "Okay?"

	"Okay," JC said.  "If you don't want to."

	"It's not that Josh.  I don't know, it's just that making that
movie...it was hard for me. I didn't want to do it, and I tried to get out
of it, but I couldn't.  So I just played him exactly like I felt, as a guy
who'd lost...or betrayed, the only person who'd ever mattered to him, as a
guy who didn't care about anything, or anyone, anymore, not even himself."

	"I was wondering about that," JC said, softly.  "I mean, even with
the first one, in Hitchcock's version, you never know where Devlin came
from, what his background is, or why he's so bitter.  He just sort of shows
up.  But, you could still tell that he had a past, that he had baggage, you
just never know what it is."

	"Well, there you have it," Lance said, trying to sound less serious
about it than he actually felt.  "It was dream casting then, because I had
baggage galore."

	"That's not funny, Lance."

	"I know.  But it's true."

	"Yeah," JC said, averting his eyes from Lance's gaze, but then
returning to it.

	"But those bags are unpacked now," Lance said, pulling JC's hand
across the table into the both of his.

	"Yes. I think they are."

	"I love you Josh."

	"Thank you Lance."

	"For what?  "

	"For loving me.  And being you."

	"You're welcome."

	JC and Lance sat quietly, finishing their wine, and then headed up
to their suite.  In the elevator, Lance stood behind JC and wrapped his
arms around him, kissing the back and side of his neck.  Leaning against
the back wall of the elevator, Lance pulled JC to him, so that he was
leaning there too, against him.  Lance felt the slight vibration of the
elevator's long slow climb to the top floor, and he waited for the beep
that would signal the doors were about to open.

  	"So in that scene, when you kissed her?  Were thinking of him?"

	"Yes," Lance said. "About Brendan.  And the mistake I'd made giving
into him, and letting myself believe all the lies he told me - or wanting
to believe them, which was even worse."

	"That's what I thought," JC said, squeezing Lance's hand, and then
leading him out of the elevator through the just-opening doors.  "But it's
past now.
  All past."

	Lance stopped walking and tugged JC back toward him, spinning him
around in the hallway a few feet from the door to their hotel room, and
pulling JC into his arms.

	"Do you really mean that?" Lance said, his eyes pleading and full
of tears.  "About it being all past now?"

	"I do.  Because it is."

	"It really is Josh."

	"I know.  I really do."

	"Thank you," Lance whispered, closing his eyes, and sighing as JC
kissed him.

*	*	*	*	*

	"And how was your stay, Mr. Bass?"

	"It was fine," Lance said, signing the credit card slip and handing
it to the young man at the hotel's front desk.  "Thank you.

	"You're welcome sir," the young man said.  "Have a safe journey
home."

	Lance turned from the front desk and scanned the lobby, looking for
JC, but not seeing him.  Then he remembered that JC had said he'd be in the
gift shop buying Aaron a t-shirt or something, so Lance headed there.

	"Did you find something?" Lance said, coming up behind JC in the
gift shop, and slipping his hand into the back pocket of JC's jeans.

	"Not really," JC said, turning his head and smiling at
Lance. "These t-shirts are all so tacky, and he already has about a hundred
stuffed animals."

	"How about a coloring book?"

	"Oh, that'd be good.  Do they have some?"

	"Yeah.  Over here."

	"Let's see," JC said, bending over and sorting through several
coloring books that were lined up below the magazine rack.  "How about this
one?  He likes trucks."

	"Yeah, that one's great," Lance said.  "He'll love it."

	"Do you want a paper too?" JC said, picking up the Los Angeles
Times.

	"Why? You want to read about the premiere?" Lance said, pulling his
hand out of JC''s back pocket, and taking the newspaper from him.

	"Well I was kind of curious to see whether we're the new
power-couple in town."

	"You're weird," Lance said, laughing and handing the newspaper back
to JC.

	"I married you, didn't I?" JC said, turning and heading for the
cashier.

	"I guess you got me there."

	Lance waited while JC paid for the coloring book and the newspaper,
and then followed him outside to the valet parking station.  JC had bought
a new Volvo two weeks ago, and it was conspicuous among the sports cars
that were parked and waiting for their owners in front of the hotel.

	"Do you want me to drive," Lance asked.

	"No. I don't mind," JC said, tipping the valet parking attendant,
thanking him, and then getting into the car.

	"Okay," Lance said, opening the passenger-side door and getting in
next to JC. "I can't stand the traffic in this damn city anyway."

	"It shouldn't be too bad. It's early."

	"We'll see."

	"So read that article to me," JC said, pulling the car onto
Wilshire Boulevard and heading for the freeway onramp.

	"Do I have to?"

	"Yes."

	"Okay.  Let me find it," Lance said, flipping through each section
of the paper.

	"The Scene section."

	"Yeah, I know," Lance said, finding it and then putting the rest of
the paper on the floor in front of him.

	"Well?" JC said, taking a quick look at Lance and then returning
his attention to the road.  "What does it say?

	"It says, 'JC Chasez, formerly head-dork in the now-defunct
boyband, 'N Sync.'"

	"It does not," JC said, laughing.

	"Okay," Lance said, laughing too.  "For real now.  It says, 'Last
night Mann's historic 1931 Fox Westwood Village theater was the site for
the premiere of Notorious, Steven Soderbergh's dark re-imagining of the
famous Hitchcock film.  The film's star, Lance Bass, who this year won an
Academy Award for Best Actor, attended the premiere with his partner,
Joshua Chasez, also an Academy Award winner this year, for Best Song.  In
an interview after the premiere, Bass notably thanked Chasez for being "the
best thing that had ever happened to him."  Julia Dalreema, Bass' co-star
in the film....'

	Lance stopped reading and turned to look at JC.

	"That's all there is about us," Lance said.  "It's just a society
page thing.  So I hope you're not too disappointed."

	"Is that really what it said?"

	"I swear to God."

	"It's kind of cool, don't you think?"

	"That they called us partners?"

	"Yeah," JC said.  "And that they didn't make too big of a deal
about it, like it's just barely news that we're together."

	"You're right.  It is cool."

	"I mean, can you imagine how it would have been five years ago?" JC
asked.

	"I don't even want to think about it," Lance said, shaking his
head.

	"Seriously though," JC said.  "Things really have changed."

	"Yeah," Lance said, putting his hand on JC's knee.  "But so have
we."

	"Yeah, I guess we have," JC said, covering Lance's hand with his
own. "For one thing, we're older now."

	"And getting older," Lance said, laughing and looking at JC.  "Like
someone who happens to be turning 30 next month."

	"Oh, shut up," JC said, pretending to sound angry, and then pausing
to think for a moment.

	"But it's really not so bad," JC continued.  "Getting older."

	"No," Lance said.  "In fact, I think it's a good thing, getting
older.  I mean, I like knowing who I am, and what I want, and where I want
to be and to go."

	"And knowing what matters."

	"And who."

	"Yeah.  And who."

	*	*	*	*	*

	"Hey little guy," Lance said, crouching in front of Aaron and
poking him softly in the stomach.  "Josh brought you a present from Los
Angeles."

	"A present?" Aaron said, turning to look at JC, who was standing
next to Lance in the upstairs kitchen.

	"Yeah," JC said.  "A present.  For you."

	"Where is it?"

	"It's right here," JC said, handing Aaron a small paper sack.
"Look inside."

	Aaron took the sack from JC and turned it upside down and shook it,
causing the coloring book fall to the floor with flat slap against the tile
there.  Aaron then bent over and picked it up, examining it closely, and
smiling.

	"It's a book with twucks on it," Aaron said, smiling more broadly
now.  "Can we read it now."

	"You can color in it too," JC said, smiling at Aaron, and then
mussing his hair.  "With your crayons."

	"I can?" Aaron said, looking back and forth between the coloring
book and JC, his face full of happy, half-confused amazement.

	"Yes you can," JC said, laughing now.  "Do you like it?"

	"I love it," Aaron said, clutching the coloring book to his chest
as if he was giving it a hug.  "Let's color in it now."

	"What do you say first," Lance said, still crouched before him.
"Aaron, what do you say when someone gives you a gift?"

	"Thank you Josh," Aaron said, turning to look up at JC as he said
it, and then taking hold of his outstretched hand.