Pairing: Joey and Lance
Words: luminous; shimmer; booty call; lupine


Chris had a good excuse for sticking his tongue in Lance's mouth. 
Really.  When Lance called, he very clearly heard him say, "This is
your morning booty call."

So it made perfect sense that, after getting up, showering, and
brushing his teeth extra well, Chris went to Joey's room where they
were meeting for breakfast, put his hands on Lance's shoulders, and
kissed him.

He felt the use of tongue was obvious, rather than gratuitous, as
Lance seemed to think when he pulled away, saying, "Chris, what the
fuck?"

"You want me, Bass.  Don't deny it."

"I... what?  Chris."

Chris put his hands back on Lance's shoulders, but Lance was
resisting his charms, pulling away and making a face.  "You called
me this morning."

Lance glared at him.  "Yeah.  Like I did everyone.  For the morning
wake-up call.  I didn't tell you to try to jump my bones.  Believe
me, I would've remembered saying that."

Chris knew Lance's looks, and that was a fairly convincing facsimile
of pissed off.  "You didn't say that it was my morning booty call?"

"No.  I didn't."  Icy tones coming from Lance now, and Chris
deflated.  Lance meant every word.

"Oh."

Joey stepped in now that the confrontation seemed to be over. 
Justin was ignoring them, attention firmly fixed on his cereal
bowl.  "You need to get your hearing checked, old man?"

"Shut up, Fatone."

"'Cause, you know, that's a sign of old age."

Chris threw himself into a chair, sulking.  Lance was ignoring him
now, and that just wasn't right.  It wasn't like Chris thought his
eyes were luminous and shimmered in the moonlight or anything sappy
like that, but he hadn't been *disappointed* to hear the words
'booty call' coming out of Lance's mouth.  Pretty fucking elated,
actually.  And now Lance thought he was a psycho stalker, which,
okay, so he sort of *was*, at least the psycho part, and yeah, he
could get into stalking Lance, but it also killed any chance he had
of getting any of the Bass ass, and that sucked.  A lot.  And not
in the good way.

"...that's ridiculous," Joey said, "I thought you knew me and Lance
are fucking."

Chris shot upright.  "Since when are you and Lance fucking?  How
the hell did you keep that a secret?  That's not fair.  You gotta
tell us things like that, so we can sell you out behind your backs
to MTV and TRL.  Fuckers."

Both Joey and Lance were staring at him now, and Justin had even
come out of his breakfast coma a little to look at him oddly. 
"Chris," Joey said slowly.  "We're not having sex.  I said, 'that's
as ridiculous as the thought of me and Lance fucking'."

"You did?" Chris asked.  Hearing that made him a bit happier.  Not
that Joey was the big bad wolf exactly, but he had his lupine
qualities, plus he shared a bus with Lance and was Lance's best
friend besides -- if he wanted Lance, Chris didn't stand a chance. 
On the other hand, if he didn't -- okay, Chris probably *still*
didn't have a chance, since Lance was shaking his head and looking
sad.

Lance pulled out his Palm Pilot.  "I'm going to make some time in
the schedule for you to see the tour doctor, Chris.  You need your
hearing checked.  And maybe we should get somebody to see about
better ear wear, because it's gotta be the noise levels that are
causing the problem."

Their concerts *were* loud, what with the music and the screaming
of thousands of pre-teen girls, but Chris didn't think it was what
he was hearing that was the problem so much as what he wasn't
hearing.  Lance didn't want him.

But then, Lance didn't seem to want Joey either.  Chris could work
with that.

Joey scrubbed his knuckles over Chris' head.  "You gotta take
better care of yourself, old man.  I don't know what we'd do
without you."

"Eh, what's that?" Chris mugged.  "Speak up.  I can't hear you."

Joey arched his eyebrows.  "Maybe we should get Lance to blow in
your ear.  Bet you could hear that."

Fucker.  Bastard knew exactly what was going on.  Still, he was
right.  Chris flung himself around the table and into Lance's lap. 
"Blow in my ear, Bass.  Kiss it and make it all better."

Lance arched his eyebrows and leaned in close, whispering into
Chris' ear.  "You know, Chris, if you wanted me to kiss you, you
could have just told me."

Chris pulled back and looked at Lance suspiciously.  Lance just
smiled coolly at him.  He wanted to believe him, but the way the
morning had been going, he wasn't going to believe anything he
heard.  "Really?"

"Yep."  Lance had grabbed onto Chris' waist to keep him balanced,
and his hands rubbed the small of Chris' back.  "Are you telling
me?"

Chris glanced at Joey and Justin, who were watching them with avid
curiosity; JC was curled up on the bed, squeezing the last few
minutes of sleep out of the schedule, oblivious to the situation. 
He was about to humiliate himself; he knew it.  And he didn't deal
with humiliation well.  So instead of telling Lance that, he threw
his arms around Lance's neck and announced dramatically, "Bass, you
big stud.  Kiss me now, or lose me forever."

Predictably, Lance stood up, dumping him on the floor. 
Predictability was good; Chris could handle predictability.  "I
couldn't lose you if I tried.  And believe me, I've tried.  You've
got fifteen minutes, then we've got to leave for the radio
station."

Lance left.  Chris picked himself up, unhumiliated, but with the
status quo -- and his ego -- still intact.  Justin followed Lance
out, and Chris made to do so as well, when Joey captured him by his
collar.

"You know, Kirkpatrick," Joey said gently, because Joey was a big
guy and didn't really need force to get his points across the way
Chris did, "you're an idiot.  Being serious for one minute wouldn't
have killed you, and it might have gotten you something worth
wanting.  You know that?"

"Huh, Joey?  What?"

Joey shook his head.  "Never mind.  Go get ready.  Long day ahead. 
But then, aren't they all?  I gotta get JC up."

Chris left.  He couldn't have heard Joey correctly.  Because it
sounded like he'd said that Lance wanted Chris, and that couldn't
be true.  Because he would have known.  Because Lance would have
reacted when Chris frenched him.  Because serious, sober, sane
individuals like Lance didn't want freaked out, neurotic weirdos
like Chris.

But just in case..

He knocked on Lance's door, and when Lance answered it, asked, "So,
um, Lance, Joey said something, and I was wondering if you could
tell me if I'm hearing things."