Pairing: Lance and Joey
Words: crabapple; laughter; muppet; exert


Joey looks out the window hopefully.  "This is all a publicity
ploy, right?  In just a minute, you're going to tell me this is all
something Melinda dreamed up and it's not really happening. 
Right?"

"Um.  I don't think so."

Joey sighs.  "I just don't get it.  Why would anyone wanna do
something like that?"  He gestures at the scene outside the window.

"I don't know.  It's almost blasphemy, isn't it?"

"I guess that depends on how seriously you take your pop music."

"Hmm."

Joey casts another look at the venue where they're supposed to be
performing tonight.  At what's been done to it.  "It just isn't
right, that we're gonna be here tonight when they hate us that
much."

"I don't know that there's much we can do about it, Joey."

Joey turns away and looks at Lance, who's sitting at the table,
laptop open, seemingly completely unconcerned by the view.  They've
been sitting here on the busses for over thirty minutes now,
waiting for somebody to tell them what to do.  The crowd just keeps
getting larger and sounding louder and more unfriendly.  "It
doesn't bother you."

Lance looks up, he stops focusing on the laptop.  Within thirty
seconds his eyes are filled with panic.  "I can't let it."  He
drags his focus back to the safe confines of his computer.

Joey immediately turns away from the scene outside.  From the
roaring noise that could be laughter or could be screaming or
threats or all of the above.  Mobs don't really have voices.  He
comes over and sits down next to Lance, wrapping his arm over
Lance's shoulder.  "Hey, man, you okay?"

"As long as I don't think about it, yeah."

"What would you like to think about?  I bet Chris is driving Justin
and JC nuts over on the other bus.  Bouncing off the walls. 
Justin's probably trying to wear himself out with exertion -- doing
like ten thousand million crunches.  And, um, C is writing music
about how this affects everything."

Lance nods.  The bus rocks.  Lance abandons his laptop to cling to
Joey.

"Hey, hey," Joey says.  Lance is nearly in his lap.  Joey just
shrugs and pulls him closer.  "We're gonna be all right."

"What if they tip the bus over?"

"We hide in the back?"

"What if we get smashed?"

"We perform anyway?"

Strangely, that's reassuring.  "Okay."

Joey strokes Lance's hair.  "So, um.  Kel says Bri really likes the
Muppets.  And the Electric Company.  All the old stuff.  Hates
Teletubbies and Blue's Clues and all the new stuff.  Kid's a real
throwback."

"But that's good.  At least she'll grow up without being an idiot."

"Well, that's what she's got her uncle Lance for, too."

"No, man.  Bus school."  The bus, as if in protest, rocks again. 
Lance squeaks and clings tighter.

Joey swings Lance's other leg over him, so Lance is straddling him. 
Nuzzling Lance's head, he says, "You're smart.  Bus school or not."

"If I'm so smart, why am I gonna die on a bus, huh?" Lance asks. 
He's got his eyes closed now, not wanting to even catch a glimpse
of the people outside.

"You're not gonna die."  Joey says this with absolute faith.

"Promise?" Lance asks, feeling like a baby again.  He remembers
asking his father to look under the bed for monsters and hearing a
promise made in this same tone of voice then.

"I promise."

"Okay.  Joey, why do they hate us?"

"Why does anybody hate anybody else?"  It's the same questions he's
gonna have to be answering for Bri soon enough.  "They don't know
us, and we aren't people to them.  They don't see us getting
scared, or if they do, they think maybe we deserve it, 'cause of
whatever other stuff they think about us.  Maybe 'cause they think
we've got stuff they should have and we don't deserve.  Or 'cause
we're pop and therefore we're scum and dishonoring their hometown. 
There's lots of reasons it could be."

"You're a pretty good dad, Joe."

"Sorry.  Laying it on too strong?"

"No, I'm serious."

"Oh."  Joey smiles into Lance's hair.  "Thanks then."

"I know you were worried, before Bri was born.  Y'know, that you
wouldn't be good at it.  But you're just so... so warm.  You
couldn't possibly have been bad, not from the first moment you saw
her."

Joey laughs.  "Yeah?  You're not counting how I almost fainted when
they let me hold her the first time."

"Well, of course not.  I started bawling when you let me hold her
the first time."

Joey touches Lance's cheek.  "Yeah, well.   You're a complete
softie."

"I am not."

"You are.  All soft and mooshy inside where you think no one can
see."

Lance rolls his eyes, but doesn't protest.  "Okay, yeah.  But don't
go spreading it around."

"I won't."  After a second, Joey adds, grinning, "Not like I have
to.  Anyone who knows you well enough knows that."

"Not too many people know me that well, though."

"Only 'cause you don't want them to."  Joey's voice isn't accusing,
just stating a fact.

"I don't trust them.  I trust *you*."

"Well, there's your mistake," Joey says fondly.

"What, trusting you?"

"Yep.  Shoulda known better than that."

"Why?"  Lance lifts his head to look straight at Joey.  His arms
wrap around Joey's neck and he's suddenly conscious of his body
pressing to Joey's.

There's something almost uncomfortable about the way Lance is
looking at him.  Joey's not sure what it is though.  "Y'know. 
Fatones.  We're pigs and we eat everything in your fridge."

"You're not a pig, you're a guy.  And you *put* everything *into*
my fridge, you might as well eat it."

Lance standing up for him doesn't really help.  "Yeah, well," Joey
jokes, trying to remove the pressure, "you have to say that. 
You're a friend."

"I am, but I don't have to say it."

Joey bows his head.  "Okay.  You're a good friend."

"For instance, Justin is a pissy bitch, but he's still my friend." 
Lance studies the swirl of Joey's hair.

"Yeah," Joey says, smiling down.

"But you're not.  Pissy or a bitch."

"Nope."

"You are hot, though."

Joey looks up, startled.  "I'm *what*?"

"Hot.  Y'know.  Attractive?"

"Lance..."

"Yeah?"

"Why're you saying this to me?"

"Probably because I'm terrified and you make me feel safe enough to
say that sort of thing.  And I've kinda thought about it, and it's
true that I find you hot.  Not because I *expect* you to do
anything about it."  Lance shrugs a little, hands clasped behind
Joey's neck.

"And you're scared and I'm here," Joey says, not letting go of him.

"It's still true.  And I probably wouldn't tell anyone but you."

"Not even Justin?" Joey asks, trying again to deflect Lance.

"No, probably not.  But you can pretend I didn't say it.  If you
want."

Joey meets Lance's eyes squarely.  "It's not that.  Not just that
anyway.  You're saying serious stuff and this is the kinda time
when people say serious stuff and how much they've always really
loved everybody and I don't see any reason to tell you something
that's already true."

Lance doesn't quite follow.  "You, um.  You loved me?"

"You know that."

"Oh.  Um, I hoped it."

Joey nods.  "It's all good."

"Oh, yeah?  So, uh.  Why haven't we done something about this whole
me loving you, you loving me thing?"

"Maybe 'cause you've never said anything til now?"

"Neither have you."

"You knew though."

"No, I didn't."

"Oh."  Joey lifts his hand to cup Lance's face.  He looks at Lance
with devoted brown eyes.  The same way he always looks at Lance
when there's time and space and he can.  Like Lance is the one
thing in the world worth living for.

"Oh.  Oh, my," Lance murmurs.

Joey nods.  Finally, Lance is looking back.

Lance kisses Joey then.  Soft lips brushing soft lips.  The bus
rocks under them, or maybe it's the whole world.  Lance doesn't
care.

Joey keeps hold of Lance, one hand at his back, the other around
his neck.  He's waited a long time for this, and he isn't going to
rush it because it's a desperate situation.

"Oh, Joey."

"Yeah?" Joey asks, drawing back enough to look at Lance, at his
flushed face and parted lips.

"I'm an idiot."

"No, you're not.  Why're you saying that?"

"I didn't see it."

"You saw it all the time."

"I didn't realize what it was."

Joey strokes Lance's neck with his thumb.  "Do I wanna know what
you thought it was?"

"I didn't know."

Joey nods.  "Ssh.  It's okay.  You know now."

"Now that I know?  Can we kiss?"

"Thought we already were," Joey says, smiling.

Lance grins and kisses Joey.  He's even daring enough to slip Joey
some tongue.

Lance kisses like every moment's gonna be the last.  Joey tries to
slow him down, to hush him with his mouth and his hands, but Lance
refuses to be gentled, clinging like he's afraid Joey'll push him
away.

Lance finally breaks away, submitting to Joey's hands.  He presses
his face to Joey's shoulder.  "Sorry."

Joey kisses the top of his head.  "It's all right.  You're scared. 
But I'm not going anywhere."

"Even if I screw up?"

"How're you planning on doing that?"

"I will.  Everybody does."

"So, you're what?  Gonna steal candy from my daughter?  Be mean to
my mama?"

"Um.  Only if it's those candy necklaces.  I love those."

"You're gonna be fine," Joey says.  "You're gonna be Lance, and
that's good enough for me."

"Okay."  Lance snuggles closer.  "I think they stopped trying to
knock over the bus."

"Y'know," Joey says, kissing Lance's hair again.  "I don't really
care."

"Do you think that after the show we could fool around?"

"We could.  I'd rather just go back to wherever we're staying with
you."

Lance swallows hard.  "Um.  Could you sort of -- extend on that
idea?"

Joey tips Lance's head back and gives him another look.  One Joey
doesn't give Lance unless no one's watching.  One that's gotten any
number of other people for him though, after they've already fallen
for the smiling good humor.  "You know what I mean."

"Oh," Lance says faintly.  "Um.  Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Yeah.  That's what I thought, too."