NOTES AND DISCLAIMERS: Made up, for entertainment only. All untrue. Thanks to N, Younger and Katie. For Susie.

COMING OF AGE

Lance refused to take off his headphones. He had decided it was the best way to get time to himself even with everyone around, the one thing he really missed from being home, from before the group. Well, not really the only thing, but it was the thing he noticed over and over again when his mother was around. When she wasn't, she was the one thing he missed the most.

He was thinking in circles and he needed to read the book in front of him. He'd signed up for the correspondence college courses to make his mother happy and he owed her decent grades. At least as good as at home.

The headphones also blocked out whatever JC was talking about. He was talking earnestly with Chris and that couldn't be good. Or, okay, maybe it was good. Good for JC. Lance was pretty sure JC was in love with Chris. He hated that.

So he looked at his book and read the same sentence over and over again. He was listening to the Wallflowers CD he'd borrowed from Joey. One, two, three Marlenas. He hummed and didn't sing along. Even singing under his breath would draw attention and Lance wanted privacy.

It didn't work. Justin sat down in front of him and said, "Lance!" really loudly. Lance sighed and took off his headphones.

"What? I'm trying to study."

"We're almost there and JC was talking about --" and it went on like that. Maybe do this with that part in the song and Lance put aside his book and paid attention.

*

He read his book at night; it actually made sense, sort of. He sprawled on his bed and took notes. He lasted about thirty minutes and then he got up and went looking for Joey.

"So, it's sort of ironic, right? I want time by myself, you know, actual privacy, but when I have it, I last about thirty minutes before I want, you know, people around." Lance played with the seam of his sock and watched Joey puttering around the little hotel room.

"Is that irony? Because, you know, I'm shaky on that shit and I remember all those jokes about how Alanis got it wrong." Joey grinned and sat down on JC's bed. JC's empty bed, which was still made and looked like it hadn't been touched at all. They'd gotten in an hour and a half ago.

Lance kept his eyes on his sock. "Where's JC?"

Joey said, "Um, I dunno."

Lance shrugged. "I don't, you know, care. I was just wondering."

"Yeah, I believe that shit. Whatever." Joey laughed, not unkindly. Or so Lance hoped. He really liked Joey and he hoped Joey really liked him.

"Well. I was just asking."

"No, you're not. Dude, you know, do something. God, you know, I'll only say this once, but you know, grow some balls." Then Joey threw a ball of wadded up paper at Lance's head.

"Wait, that's your advice? Grow some balls? What about, you know, the group, sexual identity, you know, all these very important things?" Lance poked Joey and tried not to laugh.

"Dude, who gives a fuck? I mean, okay, I do. You want to talk about the group? Sexual identity? I'm here for you. But, really, we could also just play double solitaire on my bed until JC comes back."

Lance loved double solitaire. It was even better when it was triple solitaire, quadruple solitaire because then it was faster and more vicious. They only had four complete decks so they couldn't do more than quadruple solitaire and then whoever couldn't play whined. Or if it were Chris, he'd heckle everyone who was playing. They played for an hour and it was getting late. Lance looked at the clock and down at the deck.

"Maybe I should head out. You know, I need sleep."

Joey said, "Sleep is over-rated. No sleep until we're a hit in the US, Canada, and all of South America."

Lance laughed. "Dude, by then we'd be so insane from sleep deprivation. Like, so much more so than now. We'd be like, wearing diapers and falling all over the stage."

"Everybody singing different songs!" Joey leaned back.

"And always falling off beds," Lance said as he pushed Joey.

Joey fell and rolled up against the wall, laughing.

"Okay, you're being really loud." JC was smiling as he said it. He leaned against the closed door.

"Hey, JC," Lance said and hiccupped while he tried not to laugh.

"JC! Where you been, man?" Joey stood up and thumped the wall behind him. They heard Justin shouting "Fucking stop it!" and then Lynn saying, "Justin, don't swear!" through the wall.

JC whispered, "I was down in the lobby, playing the piano."

Joey said, "Yeah? By yourself? Man, there were fans out there. Scary freaky German girls."

Lance whispered, too. "I thought you liked German girls."

"I like the ones that are legal to fuck. And the fans are nice, seriously, but. Today's were scary and freaky." Joey whispered this time.

"I wasn't alone." Lance looked down. Chris, he had been with Chris. Lance was sure. JC always listened to Chris, even when Chris talked about completely nonsensical things. JC laughed at all of Chris's jokes, even the ones about penguins he'd been telling all the time lately that weren't anywhere in the realm of funny. JC said Chris had a great voice all the time. And, most damning of all, JC always looked sad when Chris went off with girls.

Joey said, "Who were you with?" Lance hissed at him, because they were supposed to be whispering. No one wanted to piss off Lynn.

JC walked to his bed and started picking up all the cards. He said, very quietly, "I was with that girl from the opening band. The shorter one."

"The one with the big breasts?" Joey whispered this time. "Dude, she's not a lezzie?"

"I think the correct term is lesbian, Joey. They don't like lezzie, man." Lance tried not to smile or dance. He got up and helped JC pick up the cards.

Joey whispered, "Dude, I was convinced she was a lez-lesbian. She really really likes Kylie Minogue. And, seriously, she has all three Tori Amos albums and a bunch of singles. Lesbians love Tori Amos."

JC whispered, "I like Tori Amos. And Kylie Minogue. She's amazing, man. I'm not a lesbian."

Joey giggled. He sat on his own bed and started putting on his shoes. "Okay, fine. But you're pretty queer, man, so clearly, liking both musicians is an indicator of non-straightness. Or, like, queerness."

JC shook his head. "Why are you putting on your shoes?"

"Big Breasts is still downstairs, right?" When JC nodded and turned back to his bed, Joey winked at Lance. Then Joey grabbed his balls and leered. "So I'm heading down there."

JC waved bye and started straightening his sheets. Lance whispered, "So. You were playing piano?"

"Yeah. It's a really nice piano. Usually the pianos are out of tune or crappy but this one was beautiful. Really lovely. Man, it was just a pleasure."

"That sounds cool. I haven't played in so long. Not on a real piano. You know." Lance sat down on JC's bed.

"Yeah." JC smiled. "You're sitting on my bed. I was, kinda, we need to sleep."

"Joey says no sleep until we're huge in the US, Canada and South America."

JC frowned. "We won't be huge anywhere without sleep."

Lance stood up. He sucked. He didn't have any balls, JC was in love with Chris and nothing would ever happen. Lance would die and JC and Chris would dance on his grave. Maybe they'd even fuck on it. And it wasn't that Lance didn't like Chris, but it just wasn't fair. He bit his lip and then he said, "Is Chris asleep?"

JC sat down on the bed and whispered, "I don't know. I, why do you ask?"

"I just. I just did. I'm an idiot. I'm going back to my room." Lance walked out the door. He liked his single; he could flop on the bed and hit his head against his book and no one said anything at all. Except his head hurt and he was still an idiot.

Also, he wasn't the least bit sleepy. He opened his book and read an entire chapter. It wasn't that boring. And he liked the principles of accounting. It was interesting. He was actually engrossed and taking notes when someone knocked at his door. "Come in," he said.

JC, it was JC. Lance dropped his pencil and scrambled for it on the bed. He said, "Hey. Um, hey."

JC said, "Well. Joey came back. The girl really isn't a lesbian. Also, she thinks Joey is hot."

Lance said, "Oh. They couldn't, um, find somewhere else?" He grabbed his pencil and put it in his book. He closed the book and started gathering up his notebook and textbook. He put everything back in his backpack and stood up. "You can sit on the bed. You think it'll be long?"

JC shrugged. "I don't know. I really just want to sleep. And Chris is off with that guy he met, but he locked his room and you know. Um. Would it be weird to sleep here tonight?"

Lance blinked. He thought he needed to say something. He blinked again. He said, "Um. Chris went off with some guy?"

"Chris, yeah. You knew, right? He's got, he had this thing for that guy. You know who. And I think it's, um, you know, the first time he's really. He's just getting down with the vibe of being not straight and acting on it. You know Chris." JC smiled. "Anyway. Um. It's not okay? You know me. I don't kick or anything."

Lance nodded. "Um. In the bed with me?"

JC nodded. "That's not okay?"

Lance said, "Oh. Um. Yeah, sure. Just. Um. I kick. I think. I dunno. I sleep walk sometimes, too."

"Well, any port in a storm." JC smiled and Lance noticed for the first time that JC was just wearing pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He looked good. JC always looked good to Lance.

Lance pulled down the bedspread and said, "I'm gonna brush my teeth. And change. You make yourself comfortable." Lance closed the door in the bathroom and thought about banging his head against the wall. JC would hear. He was either living some dream or he was clinically insane or he was about to make a complete fool of himself. Even if he didn't do anything, he would be an idiot, Lance was pretty sure of that. He brushed his teeth extra hard and washed his hands until they pruned.

When he went back into the room, JC was snug on one side, asleep already. Lance sighed and got in next to him. He was careful not to touch JC. He closed his eyes and thought about counting sheep. He was way more tired than he ever thought possible because he fell asleep nearly immediately even with JC only inches away. When he woke up, JC was gone. He had just left because when Lance touched the other side of the bed it was still warm. He rolled into the spot and fell asleep again, warmed by what was left of JC and the smell of JC's deodorant.

At breakfast, JC grinned at him and said he'd slept like a rock and Lance hadn't moved at all. Then he said, "Let's not tell, I don't want Lou getting ideas that he can just get one twin for both of us, you know?"

Lance nodded numbly.

It was just like that. Like every other stupid coming of age book or movie Lance'd ever seen. He was overseas, that was in a lot of the stories. He was having new experiences but he was still innocent. Lance was surprised that everything wasn't all gold and gauzy like all those movies he'd watched with Stacy. Coming of age stories all had the obligatory older love interest and it never ended well. Apparently, part of coming of age was smashed hopes and ruined love. Lance hoped he at least got the sweaty sex part of the inevitable crash, but he didn't seem on track for even that. He sighed.

At the venue, he found Justin in a small, empty dressing room. Justin had his books out and his serious face on. Lynn had gotten him the room, Lance knew, so he knew it was okay for him to come and study there, too.

They were sitting in silence, both of them reading and taking notes, when the talking outside started up. It was stagehands, Lance thought, locals, and they were talking in German and then mimicking Lynn in badly accented English. "Juuustin, my Justin" they said, loudly, voices pitched high. They were making fun of Justin's mother.

Lance looked over at Justin's blushing face and tightly pressed together lips. Lance wanted to say something or do something. But he knew they couldn't confront the stagehands, it wouldn't work, wasn't a good idea. But Lance knew just as well how important Justin's mother was to him. And he was too young and inadequate and all he could think of to do was to say to Justin, "Is that math? I can help with math if you've got a problem."

Justin shook his head and blurted out "English." He looked down at the page like he'd forgotten. "It's English. Um, Shakespeare. Hamlet."

Outside, three guys for sure were laughing, and saying "Juuuuustin" and making kissing noises. Lance nodded and said, "I sucked at that. Stacy got me through all of that, um, and my mom."

Justin just nodded his head and hunched over his book and his notebook. He looked miserable and young, like twelve years old.

JC came in. Lance was just doomed, completely and utterly doomed. Because JC knew exactly how to make Justin feel better, to do something good, and Lance had had no idea. But JC sat behind Justin and rubbed his shoulders and asked him about his homework. Then JC started telling this long joke about Hamlet and Danes and ghosts and he kept cracking up at the wrong parts. Lance and Justin both laughed at JC and they were all so loud after a few minutes, they couldn't hear a thing outside the door. And so Lance was completely doomed. Because he couldn't really stop loving JC, who couldn't tell a joke at all and still looked really hot failing at things even though he was actually succeeding at being a good person.

After the show, he was sitting in the back of the bus. The bus was really crowded with the band, the guys, the bodyguards, Lynn, and one or two other people. But there was one quiet, private space in the very back and Lance had his headphones on, Wallflowers still in his Walkman and he was reading about the principles of accounting. JC tapped his knee.

Lance looked up and opened his mouth and shut it. JC was talking and then he reached over and took off Lance's headphones. His fingers brushed Lance's ears. He was probably blushing there, too. JC said, "What are you listening to?"

"Uh. The Wallflowers. You know, with, um, Bob Dylan's son? I borrowed it from Joey."

"Oh. Is it good?"

Lance nodded. He rubbed his chin to make sure he'd closed his mouth. He was such a complete idiot that somehow JC sleeping next to him and then touching his ears had rendered him a drooling idiot. With someone he saw every day. Lance was pretty sure he sucked. And he thought this was probably the big sad scene in the coming of age story. Lance would become a man right after JC said that Lance was a big drooling idiot and he'd rather sleep with one of the mean stagehands than Lance.

JC said, "Justin says you have a crush on me or something."

Lance just stared. He opened his mouth to deny it but he couldn't find the words and he didn't think it was possible for him to look stupider but he'd achieved it somehow.

JC said, "That's a yes, huh?"

Lance looked down. He hated his jeans. He could focus on that.

JC said, "Because I was trying to figure out if he was right, you know, the last two weeks, man. And I couldn't tell."

"Um."

"Well, because, man, I was thinking --"

And before Lance could wonder what JC was thinking, JC was holding Lance's face in his hands and kissing him. Lance was in shock for a moment, maybe ten seconds, and then it hit him, an explosion in his brain. JC was kissing him. He kissed back, opened his mouth and grabbed JC's waist, pulled him closer.

It was a long kiss. Long, sweet, lots of tongue. JC pulled back and said, "Hey, um, so I was thinking. I was thinking, I'd like to kiss you."

"Okay." Lance grinned. "Let's do that more. Um, because I'd like that, too." Lance didn't need privacy anymore and he wasn't trapped in some stupid movie, because this was going to have a happy ever after ending. Definitely. So JC kissed him again and Lance moved his hands from JC's waist to JC's back and inside JC's pants and JC just moved closer. Lance could hear, tinny and far away, the Wallflowers still playing from his headphones, we can drive it home, one headlight.

THE END.

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