Looking for somebody's arms to
Wave away past harms
10:45 pm
Usually Lance fucks around after all the channels have gone to infomercials. Primetime TV is supposed to be safe territory. It's ten o'clock, do you know where your boyfriend is? Usually. On the bus, in the limo, on the way out if it's an early night, on again, off again. Right now Lance's on-again boyfriend is in Justin's room writing harmony.
On ER someone is getting something stat and a guy who is not Lance's boyfriend puts his mouth on him like he's trying to save Lance's life. Lance slouches down on his elbows on the bed and lets him try.
His hair is short in Lance's grip and Lance falls back once because he forgets whose mouth it is.
Lance lets the guy order them room service after. He works here, after all.
Lance knows he's an asshole for doing this again. He knows JC will forgive him. Again.
He knows if JC's always letting him come back, he'll never have to come up with a good reason to stay. He thinks this time JC might know that, too.
12:30 am
"You're here," JC says, serene and soft, and Lance stands in the doorway in boxers and an old shirt and kisses the edge of JC's mouth. JC slides his hands up under Lance's shirt, buries his nose in the crook of Lance's neck. He mumbles against Lance's collarbone. "You took a shower this late?"
Lance pushes JC back to the bed and draws JC on top of him. "I wanted to be clean for you," he says, and JC kneels between his open legs, smiles tightly.
JC puts one hand on Lance's stomach and pushes Lance's shirt over his head with the other, and then leans in, tugs down boxers. He pushes into Lance and fucks him slow and patient until they're both ready. When Lance comes, he whispers "sorry" into the pillow and JC kisses his forehead and falls asleep.
1:45 am
"Let's sleep in your bed." JC throws back the sheet, which yanks the hair on Lance's stomach where it dried.
"Jesus," Lance winces. "What's wrong with this one?"
"It's sticky," JC says.
7:15 am
"Did you switch cologne?" JC says, holding the phone away from his face.
Lance squints up into the forty-eighth floor glare. They are closer to the sun up here and it scalds his pupils. He blinks and it stings. "No," he says.
JC sniffs the phone again. There is always something Lance forgets to clean up.
7:45 am
"You can say it out loud," Lance says, half-dressed, t-shirt in his hands.
JC looks down. "What's the point," he says wearily, and Lance sags against the bathroom sink. JC's face is like that of a child who learned early, hard lessons of conditional love. It says he didn't expect more of Lance even if he wanted it. "You're not trying to be an asshole," JC says.
"I was," Lance says. "I think this time I was."
"It's like you can't help it."
"I could," Lance says. He turns and looks at his eyes glowing hatefully in the mirrored lights. "I should."
"I love you anyway."
"Yeah. Yeah, you really shouldn't."
10:30 am
The bus sways against the wind of a passing semi. Lance puts out an arm to catch his balance and his palm lands on JC's chest.
"I don't think you should keep forgiving me," Lance says, pulling JC onto his lap. JC's mouth tastes like maple syrup and blueberries and Lance threads his fingers through damp curls.
"I know," JC says. Lance cups a hand on JC's crotch and JC bucks up. "I don't really," he gasps. Lance slides his fingers under the edge of JC's jeans. "I hate you for it."
10:00 pm
It's ten o'clock and his boyfriend is naked, leaning against the picture window of another hotel. Lance is on his knees and this time when he apologizes he does it for real.
2:45 am
Lance rolls onto his back and breathes in deeply. "You never told me that," he says, and JC unfurls long arms and legs beside him. "All this time and I thought it didn't really. I don't know, harden. You. Like you got hurt but it didn't last."
"I love you," JC says simply, short nails scraping across Lance's thigh.
"I know, but --"
"I could have told you before. It wouldn't have made a difference."
"No," Lance says. "It did. It does."
END.
Credits: Part of the forthcoming Either/Or challenge by the ddddirtypop collective. Lyrics and title by Elliott Smith, "2:45 am."