JC was supposed to be inside with everyone else, drinking beer (Joey, Justin, and Chris), vodka (Lance) or wine (himself), laughing and trading stories about the past eight months. He was supposed to be rebonding with his best friends.
He was not supposed to be standing in Justin's garage, staring at his cars.
He didn't even like cars all that much. He had been happy driving his old battered Jeep for years after everyone else had gotten their bright shiny toys. He hadn't even minded the teasing of the other guy all that much. It was his car, his baby, and it had run perfectly. What was the point of having something you were afraid to drive because it cost so much? Or in Justin's case, having so many cars that you could drive a different one every day of the week without ever repeating yourself.
JC wasn't the type to come and drool over the shiny chrome and the fine German engineering, but it had been the quietest place in the house he could find. The only room that didn't seem to have been attacked by a home decorator intent on outfitting the place in "country chic." Okay, so maybe JC was the cheap one, but he didn't really get the point of having a $5,000 distressed pine coffee table. If it was going to cost you that much money, shouldn't it look new?
In any case, JC had fled from the wall-to-wall carpeting and chintz curtains and frills and ruffles and gingham. He'd felt like the walls were closing in, suffocating him. Here in the garage the bare concrete floor and sharp tang of metal and oil in the air at least felt real.
He reached out absently, tracing the line of the hood, watching the light play over the gleaming paint. He jumped when he heard a voice behind him.
"You know, if you hate being called a kitten, you need to not be so fascinated with the pretty and the sparkly."
JC turned to see Joey leaning against the door smiling at him, and he relaxed a little. "I was just..." He waved his hand around kind of aimlessly, letting the sentence finish itself. He wasn't even sure what he was doing in here, except that he'd needed to get away.
"Being an antisocial geek?"
Well, that seemed to sum it up. "Maybe." He didn't know how to explain it to Joey, to any of them. That he'd missed being around them all, so much, and now that he had the chance to see all of them he didn't know what to say or how to act. It was as if they'd all changed, not a lot, but just in small increments. Not so much that they didn't recognize each other, but enough so that they didn't... fit. And somehow, that was worse.
Joey came over and took JC's hand off the car, squeezing it tightly. "C'mon, man, cheer up. It's a New Year, new beginnings, new things for the group to accomplish. New things for you to do. Don't hide out here in J's garage with his 'babies' and mope."
For some reason JC felt the need to obstinately cling to his bad mood, that if he smiled at Joey he'd be giving in somehow. "Is this the part where you start making faces and dancing around like a fool telling me to have a Happy New Ye-eeeear?"
He sang the last few words sarcastically, and Joey's face fell as he stepped back abruptly. "Fine, whatever. Bond with the fucking cars, not with your best friends. See if I care."
Whatever pleasure JC had thought to feel at rebuffing Joey vanished, and he grabbed Joey's hand back. "Joe... wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You were great in the show. You know that." He thought how weird it must be for Joey, having spent every day with a whole different group of people for five months and then having to leave them all behind. "I know you must miss it, it's only been a couple of weeks since you left."
"That's the funny thing," Joey said, and he was smiling, because Joey almost always smiled, but there was something else around the edges. "I didn't think I would. I mean, it was fun and I liked the cast and everyone, but five months is a long time. I thought I'd be glad to get home, get back to normal life. But I feel...." And now it was his turn to leave a sentence unfinished.
JC leaned against the hood of one of the cars -- the Jag, he thought -- and tugged Joey to sit next to him. "You feel what?"
"It's stupid," Joey mumbled, and stared at the floor.
JC rested his head against Joey's shoulder, knowing that whatever Joey was feeling would be easier for him to say if he wasn't looking at him. "It's not stupid. It's how you feel. Tell me."
"It's like. I don't know where I fit, anymore. With. With us."
And JC did know. He knew so damn well. And now he knew the answer to his own question. "You fit here. With us. It's... different. Yeah. Maybe we have to work a little harder to fit the pieces together now. But I think... I think once we get it all together we'll fit even tighter than before." He picked his words carefully, muddling the metaphors, but knowing that Joey would understand. He always did.
"I hope so," Joey breathed against his hair.
They sat there for a little while, just leaning on each other. Joey finally broke the silence. "They didn't want me there, you know. Not at first. Sure, they were nice enough. Professional. But you could see it in their eyes. That they'd been working their asses off day in and day out, and now this big stupid pop star comes in and takes over their show and puts their friend out of a job, and who the hell did I think I was?"
"But they got to know you. They liked you. So much. I was there, I saw."
"Yeah. I worked my ass off. I was going to make them respect me... like we did, all those years ago, we were gonna work so hard that people would have to notice us, right? And they did. And they seemed to like me. Said I was a fun guy. That's what people always said about me -- that I was so much fun."
He raised his head, and JC turned to meet his eyes, and was shocked at how bleak his expression was. Joey laughed bitterly. "Do you have any idea how fucking exhausting it is to have to be fun every goddamn day for five months?"
"Why didn't you tell me any of this when you were in LA?" It had been a whirlwind, Joey flying in to do press, sitting in on a radio interview, coming out on the town dancing with Dallas and Tara and everyone, and it had been fun, but there hadn't really been any time for just the two of them.
Joey laughed a little, sadly. "I didn't want you to think I wasn't fun."
JC turned fully around, standing between Joey's knees. He wrapped his arms around Joey's waist, squeezing tightly. "You never have to worry about being fun for me."
Joey hugged back, pulling JC close. "You still haven't told me why you're out here."
"You'll laugh."
"At you? Never." The words stirred the hair on the back of JC's neck, and he shivered a little.
"I didn't feel like I ... fit."
Joey did laugh, but JC didn't feel upset at all. "Dude. Are we in sync or what?"
They laughed together, holding each other tightly, shaking almost silently. And then JC pulled back and kissed Joey.
JC's heart sped up, his pulse thumping frantically in his chest. He was sure that he'd misjudged the situation, that he should have waited. He should have been content to just watch from afar. He should have kept his distance.
Joey kissed him back.
He put his hands on JC's waist and lifted him into his lap, then circled his back with strong arms, tilting him back almost parallel to the floor. He kissed him deeply, searchingly, and JC mewled deep his throat and tried to move closer.
When they pulled apart, JC could feel that Joey's heart was racing just as much as his own.
"What was that for?" Joey had a look on his face of surprised bewilderment, like a kid who's just opened a present he really wanted, but isn't sure if it's really for him.
There was so much JC could have told Joey. About waiting, and wanting. About wishing for more, yet being perfectly satisfied with the best friendship in the world. About dreaming for things you can't believe will ever be yours.
He wrapped it up into two words.
"For you."
Anything else he might have said was lost as Joey's mouth once more captured his. Hands and mouths moved urgently, touching and stroking, trying to get closer until they nearly fell off the hood of the car.
"C'mere," Joey whispered, his voice deep and husky, as he lifted JC to the floor and then hopped down, taking his hand and pulling him after. His eyes swept the garage and then settled on a target. JC didn't know what he had in mind until Joey reached to open the rear door of the car.
"Joey!" He winced at his own high-pitched squeal. "We can't! Justin'll kill us! The Beemer?"
"C'mon, think how many guys would kill to do it where Britney Spears has gotten laid."
JC wrinkled his nose delicately. "Kind of a mood killer, Joe."
Joey kissed him again, his hand moving down to squeeze at JC's aching erection through his jeans. "I dunno. Your mood seems pretty good to me." JC arched helplessly into the touch, and had to agree that his mood was pretty damn fine.
"Probably easier if we get rid of these first," JC said, surprised at how calm and sensible he sounded, though his head was spinning and he felt like he'd swallowed an entire bottle of champagne. Mostly, he just wanted to get naked, and get Joey naked, too. Despite feeling dazed and uncoordinated, Joey's clothes seemed to melt away under his fumbling fingers.
"Ohhhhh," he sighed, when he had his hand wrapped around Joey's hard, hot flesh. JC sank to the floor, unmindful of the cold concrete beneath his knees, needing to taste it, feel it in his mouth. He licked teasingly, and felt Joey's hand fist in his hair. When he swallowed him down without warning, the tingling in his scalp made his own cock throb even harder.
He whimpered in protest when Joey pulled him up, but didn't complain for long as Joey pulled his clothes off. This time when Joey tugged him toward the back seat of the BMW, JC went without protest.
Their skin slid across the smooth leather as they fit together as best they could in the cramped space. JC bent his knees and wrapped his legs around Joey's waist, and suddenly the fit was perfect.
JC rubbed up and down Joey's long back, feeling the bunch of play of muscles there, letting his fingers trace down the knobs of his spine. He could feel the stubble on Joey's cheeks scratching against his, and the hair on his chest prickling, and the firm hot pressure of his cock as they rubbed together.
"Don't have... anything," Joey gasped, sounding regretful. "Wish I could... oh...."
He didn't have to finish the sentence. JC wished he could, too. "Later," he promised, and rocked up harder. Joey nodded, closed his eyes, and moaned.
It didn't take long for the two of them to find a rhthym, muscles working fluidly, pressing against each other frantically. Joey was the first to let go, stiffening and then keening out JC's name brokenly. The warm, hot splash across his stomach sent JC over the edge.
They lay there, gasping and panting and sticky, as their pulse slowed back to normal.
"Missed you," Joey whispered, and they both giggled. It sounded so lame after what had just happened.
"Me, too," JC said, trying to sound sincere. "And I'm gonna miss you more once Justin kills you for messing up his car."
"Me??? I believe you did plenty of the messing here!"
"Well, it was your idea."
They found some clean rags that Justin probably was saving to polish the mirrors or something, and cleaned up as best as they could, lots of giggling and kissing slowing them down considerably. They had just finished putting everything back together in a somewhat orderly fashion when Chris came bursting through the door.
"Ah hah! Here you two are. I found them," he yelled over his shoulder. "I think they're trying to hotwire one of your cars, J."
JC tossed his head haughtily. It had such a better effect now that his hair flipped when he did it. "And what would I want with one of these overpriced hunks of fiberglass and metal? Please." He probably would have been able to carry it off better if his cheeks hadn't been flushed bright red.
Chris looked at him sharply. "Whatever you say, C. C'mon, we were looking for you two bozos. Any second now Lance is gonna start telling another story that involves him propositioning a cosmonaut instead of asking where the bathroom is in bad Russian, and really, a man can only take so much."
Chris's complaints would have carried more weight if he hadn't been practically sitting in Lance's lap since they'd gotten to the house that afternoon, but JC could take a hint. "Yeah, we'll be right there."
Chris took off back down the hall, yelling for Justin to get some more beer and "that girly wine shit that C drinks."
Joey chuckled. "I take it back. It's as if nothing has ever changed."
"Changed for the better, maybe. Right?" JC peered up from under his eyelashes, suddenly anxious. Maybe Joey had just been in the mood for a tumble on some expensive leather. Maybe Joey had a thus yet unexplored car kink. Maybe he was planning on luring Lance out here and bending him over the Harley. Maybe...
"For the better," Joey agreed, pulling him in for another kiss. "Much better."
JC sighed happily. Maybe things were just as good as he wanted to believe they were.
Joey put an arm around his waist, and JC leaned into him as they walked into the house, following the sound of Chris's laugher and Justin's shrieks and Lance's dismayed shouts. Even from here they could tell that a tickle fight of massive proportions was going on. They exchanged a look and ran down the hallway together, jumping into the pile, adding their laughter to their group's.
Everything was back in place.
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Author's Note: My second year participating in SeSa, written for Don We Now Our Gay Apparel in 2002. It was written for Fluttergirl, who had requested Joey and JC in a car. I don't think this is quite what she had in mind!