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Untitled JoLa for lilysaid
You learn a lot of things when you grow up in the deep South. You learn that it's not the heat but the humidity that wilts you. You learn that some things are best done slowly, simmered in the heat. You learn how to talk slow and think fast. You learn to be nice and polite, so that the bitchiness isn't as obvious. You call any adult (or later, people who are a year older than you) ma'am and sir because it's a sign of respect. You learn to get along, to make do, to relax, and to take things for what they are, but to never underestimate the women of the church or the summer thunderstorm. You learn about church, you learn about God, and you learn about family. Lance learned all of this in Mississippi. But he didn't learn about long hot days of grueling rehearsal in a warehouse with spotty air conditioning, or cold nights. He didn't learn about frost-reddened cheeks and how someone's hair could be tipped with snow, sparkling in the sunlight. He didn't learn about the strange feelings that were surprising him at night, or what to do about the daydreams and fantasies that insisted on veering to places he'd never before contemplated. He didn't learn about Joey.
“How I Survived Pop Stardom in a Foreign Country”
Of course, it would only work with Joey around, because he was all of Lance's discovery steps in one big muscular body. There was something about their schedule, about being busy and on the go all the time, that eradicated personal boundaries somehow. Lance became accustomed to napping curled up on an airport bench with someone wrapped around him. Teasing would change to roughhousing, which would morph somehow to bear hugs and the rasp of stubble on his cheek. Joey liked for Lance to rub his shoulders after a long day. He said that Justin dug in too hard, and Chris didn't have the patience, and JC was inherently selfish about these things and refused to give backrubs without getting one first. Lance, Joey claimed, had the perfect touch. One night, Lance moved from rubbing Joey's shoulders to stroking his neck. He ran his fingers lightly down Joey's upper arms and tickled the insides of his elbows. Joey tilted his head back, their eyes met, Lance leaned down, and Step Four was attained – his first boykiss. Of course, right after that was Step 4.2, The Freak-Out. Later, Justin was surprised to learn that it was Lance who freaked, and not Joey. “What do you mean, you're surprised?” Lance asked. Justin scratched his head, face scrunched up in thought. “It's just that Joey, man. I always thought he was straight, you know?” Lance blinked. “I'm straight. I'm totally straight, Justin, I've never -” Justin had patted Lance on the arm and told him that really, it was ok, no body cared if Lance was gay, he didn't have to hide it from the guys. And that if Diane didn't know, then that was probably all for the better, right now. He left the room, and left Lance standing in the middle, stunned. A week had gone by since the kiss and Justin's unintentional bombshell. Lance sat behind Joey in the van as they went to some radio interview that probably no one was going to care about or even listen to. Joey was talking to JC about something, Lance wasn't really paying attention to the words, but he was intensely focused on Joey's profile and the way his throat moved when he swallowed. Lance checked to his right, where Chris sat. He was slumped against the window, stealing a quick nap. Justin was behind in his schoolwork and was reading a book, riding shotgun to prevent carsickness. Lance slowly reached forward and rested his hand on the back of Joey's seat. His fingertips brushed Joey's neck. Joey twitched, and Lance could see his quick glance back. Lance crooked his fingers so that he was ruffling Joey's hair lightly. Joey leaned back, relaxed. Welcome to Step Five, Lance thought. He smiled. END
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