Know I'll Stay
by Velma
start at the very beginning it's a very fine place to start*
JC doesn't like Orlando much when he first arrives. He hates the heat. Bowie had been hot, he'd known those kinds of summers, but this. This is ridiculous. His t-shirt sticks uncomfortably to his back and his hair's always in his face and all his friends and most of his family are thousands of miles away and really, this MMC gig is great and all, but he's never been all that outgoing and he still can't figure out what the hell Max was thinking bringing him here. What the hell his parents were thinking letting him come.
Tony takes him under his wing, though, and Jennifer, too, and it's at her insistence that he goes to a party thrown by some of her friends from school. He hangs out in the corner, mostly, eyes down, until he senses rather than sees someone slouch next to him. Even then, even before he knew, his skin prickled with awareness.
"Man, I don't know what we'd do without you, using your back to keep the wall up all night." JC's caught in the voice, the rich tone of it, inherently warm, before he processes the words.
"Oh," he says, flushing immediately as he looks up, then flushing some more. The guy in front of him is gorgeous in a way he can't quite recognize, but it has something to do with the eyes, dark and lush and warmer than his voice, even, and a bright mischievous smile. "I'm sorry, I didn't, I don't…"
"I'm Joey," the guy says, and sticks out a large hand, folding it over JC's without thought. "And you need to loosen up. C'mon. Let me show you around…" he looks at JC questioningly.
"JC," JC says. "Josh, really, but everyone calls me JC and."
"JC," Joey says, throwing his arm around JC's shoulders and pulling him away from the wall. "Party going on, man. Let's go see the sights."
*
That's when it starts. JC thinks, in retrospect, that he probably starts crushing on Joey that night, and by the time MMC closes its doors, almost three years later, it's gone beyond crush to something that sticks in his chest and makes his breath catch when Joey turns that smile on him.
When JC's in LA, separated again from everything he's ever loved, when everything's bad and all he really knows is the miserable taste of mediocrity bordering on failure, sometimes the only thing that calms him enough to get some sleep are pictures of the two of them, sun-drenched and grinning on the beach at Lauderdale. He falls asleep to big brown eyes and warm arms and pink lips that he can almost taste.
Almost.
Of course, they're gone in the morning and all JC has of Joey are two-dimensional Kodak moments, and it makes him hate L.A. all the more.
*
JC goes back to Florida and doesn't mention California and Joey doesn't ask. It's a sign of how well he knows JC that he knows not to. They're inseparable, the two of them, and when Chris finds Justin finds JC, there's no doubt that he's bringing Joey with. They stay up late and talk about how big they're going to be and Joey falls asleep with his arm draped over JC and JC doesn't sleep at all, not for a long time. He waits until he's sure Joey's gone, deep in dreams, before he shifts a little and curls around him, presses his face into Joey's neck and lets himself dream of things out of reach.
*
Lance makes five, and JC's not entirely sure what to make of him, except there's a weird tickle of something like resentment when he sees how easily he and Joey fall in together. Joey's got a huge heart, and room for everyone, and JC loves that about him, but. Sometimes Lance gets smiles JC thought maybe were reserved just for him.
But it's okay, it's good, and they're good, really, good enough that Lou sends them to Germany. They're holed up in a hotel room one night when Justin starts talking about girls, and what he likes, and Chris won't stop giving him shit because Justin's talking like he's been reading Penthouse Letters. Which he probably stole out of Chris's stuff.
Justin asks JC why he's never out hanging with the girls and Joey snorts at Justin in disbelief but Justin's still young and it's not like JC's flaunted it or anything. "He's not into the honeys," Joey says, and his smile is easy but it makes JC's heart hurt. He catches something appraising in the look Lance gives him and sighs, but Lance doesn't push it or bring it up and the conversation moves on.
*
They're back in Orlando, and the U.S. debut has dropped and things are looking to be as good as JC predicted. They're home from a night clubbing when Lance corners him, his breath heavy with alcohol. Not old enough, but when Lou's around those things don't seem to matter.
"You wanna?" Lance nods toward a bedroom and JC frowns.
"Lance," he says slowly. There's no mistaking the intent in Lance's eyes.
"C'mon, C, you've got to be hornier than I am. I never see you…" he trails off as JC backs away. "Look, I didn't mean."
"I'm sorry, Lance," JC says. "It's just, I can't. Not like this."
Lance considers him for a minute and his eyes are clearer than they were just a moment before. "Stupid to save yourself for him, Jayce."
JC flinches.
"I've already asked," Lance says. "He's not interested. Me. You. Dicks in general. I don't get why you do this. Set yourself up for this. Not when you could have something else."
JC walks away.
*
here I am stuck in the middle with you
*
The lawsuit changes everyone, makes them harder around the edges, their eyes a little darker, their smiles a little sharper. JC shows a little more teeth.
He shows a lot of teeth when Kelly's around, which is the case, more and more often. JC doesn't like Kelly, never has, the way her fingers curl around Joey's wrist possessively as soon as JC walks in the room. The way she watches him like a hawk when he and Joey are standing together, heads ducked close in conversation. They circle each other like cats gearing up for a fight JC knows he has no chance of winning. That's the thing he doesn't get, why she's always got her claws out around him when she has to know she has Joey. If he was going to leave her, he'd have done it a long time ago.
Joey either doesn't see it or ignores it, and JC thinks it's the latter. Joey's been willfully blind all these years, after all. It's not that JC wants to talk about the subject or anything, 'cause, Christ, they've had plenty of opportunities. He just wishes he knew why Joey smiles like that at him, touches him when he can, if it's nothing. If there's nothing there.
*
Chris says something, eventually. They're at an afterparty, celebrating their appearance at the Superbowl.
"I don't get it, man. Why?" he asks.
JC's hands tighten around the glass in his hand. It's something blue, girly. Justin gave it to him, which figured. "What, Chris? What great universal mystery are you attempting to solve now?"
"Joey. I mean. I understand why people love him. I love him. I just don't get you. And him. And this," he gestures randomly, "whatever this is."
"This," JC makes air quotes, "is nothing, man. Nothing. We're friends, the best."
"You want more." It's not a question.
"It doesn't matter," JC says, watching Joey across the room. He's got a girl on each arm and he's making eyes at the bartender. "Because he can't give it to me."
Chris shakes his head, watching Joey, too. "That's pretty fucked up, man."
"Yeah," JC sighs, finishes his drink. "Tell me about it."
*
The thing is, he's not unhappy. Not really. Because those moments he has Joey are his. Even on stage, in front of thousands of people, Joey can turn and look at him and make everything else fall away. It's some sort of power he has over JC, but JC gives it freely.
He's never known anything else.
*
JC sighs, looking down at the pint glass in his hand, swirling around the remaining swallow or so, and tries hard to not breathe in the smoky air floating around him too deeply. It's bad for his voice and all. The bar is dark, and the clientele older, so he doesn't feel too badly about not calling Tiny and dragging his ass out to watch him.
He's been in a funk lately, and he's pretty sure he knows why but he's also dead certain he doesn't want to think about it. He raises his glass to his lips and drinks the remaining liquid quickly, wincing a little at the bitter taste. He doesn't really like beer, but this place doesn't seem like the type of locale that offers a very good selection of reds, and besides, even he's not a big enough tool to drink wine at a bar.
"Want another one, honey?" The bartender asks. JC nods.
As she returns with another pint, he feels rather than sees someone slide onto the stool next to him.
"Hey, cowboy," a familiar voice says at his ear, "wanna go for a space ride?"
JC grimaces. "Jesus, Joey. What the hell?"
"I could be asking you that myself, C." He motions to the bartender to bring him a beer.
"How did you find me?"
"Well, that's sort of funny. I was driving past this little dive, and noticed amongst the motorcycles a banged up jeep that looked suspiciously like yours. It's kind of hard to miss. So I pulled in, and sure enough. Lucky coincidence."
JC snorts.
"Seriously, Jayce, what's a fellow like you doing in a place like this?"
"It's a bar, Joey. I felt like a drink. It's not like it's completely unprecedented or something. What gives?"
"Well, uh, there are a few reasons why this particular locale strikes me as odd, Chasez. One, it's a biker bar. Two, it's a leather bar. And three," Joey leans in close and drops his voice to a whisper, "we're surrounded by lesbians." He chuckles at the look of confusion on JC's face. "Hey, I don't mind, but I didn't think this was really your scene."
JC looks around the bar, really seeing it for the first time, and flushes slightly. "Christ. I wasn't even paying attention."
"Hey, man," Joey says, bumping shoulders with him, "not a big deal. It's just a bar. Despite your earlier claims to the otherwise, though, it's not exactly normal to find you all by yourself at six o'clock in the evening, drinking. So, really, what's wrong?"
JC can see the genuine concern in Joey's face, and rubs his eyes tiredly as he tries to collect his thoughts. "I don't know, Joe. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could figure it out myself, but I'm at a loss. It'll pass, though. Just a phase."
"Phase or not, I'm here for you. To listen or whatever."
"Yeah," JC mutters into his beer. "Yeah, I know."
*
Except Joey's not really there to listen, not about this. Years later and JC can still hear Lance's words in his ears, can feel in his gut the inherent truth in them. Lance wasn't trying to hurt him, and there's no real competition between them for Joey's affection, but JC wonders if that's not because they both know they don't stand a chance of getting what they really want.
And there's also the fact that JC's not entirely sure it's what he wants anymore. Except Joey will smile at him and throw him over his shoulder and carry him offstage and JC's stomach will twist inside again and he knows he's mostly lying to himself.
*
JC's stomach does more than twist when the five of them and Kelly sit down for an impromptu group meeting.
"Kelly's pregnant," Joey says and he's smiling, he's happy, JC thinks, but he can't take his eyes of Kelly's hands, the way they're latched on to Joey and when he finally does, when he looks up to congratulate them because it's a pretty incredible thing he finds her staring at him.
"We've asked Lance to be the godfather," Joey says, softer this time, and Lance is beaming. JC's stomach actually flips, but he manages a smile, feels it stretching across his face, almost painful as he nudges Lance. Kelly's watching him, and he swears she looks smug. He wants to tell her he's no threat, that he never was, and that he's tired of this whatever it is between them, that if he could switch off the connection he had with Joey he would, but when Joey folds him into a hug he knows that's a lie, too.
*
but it all comes back to me in the end
*
They never talk about it, but JC knows Joey knows. He has to. There's no other explanation for the touches, the smiles, the looks, the way Joey constantly has JC's back. It's sort of like maybe it's Joey's way of saying it's okay, what he feels, even if Joey's not in a position to reciprocate.
Something changes when Briahna's born, too, there's a softer set to Joey's eyes, something gentler about the way he carries himself. Fatherhood looks good on him, and it's the most seriously Joey's taken anything in his life. He brings her over, some afternoons while JC's writing, and the two of them will sprawl out on the floor in his den and watch her gurgle and coo and tear across the carpet. When she naps, JC likes to tease Joey about how she sleeps with her mouth open just like he does.
It fascinates JC, watching Joey with her, the way those big hands cradle and rock, the way he can't seem to stop touching her, either, like he's not sure she's really there. He even says it to JC, once, in low tones, how he can't believe he ever made anything so beautiful.
"She's an angel," JC says, and Joey nods.
"I wanted to," Joey starts, lower tones, almost hard to hear. "The godfather thing, you know, it's an honorary thing. It's all of you, really, and…"
"Joey," JC says. It's months later, and he's gotten over it.
"I just didn't want you to think Lance was more important. Kelly and I talked and," JC covers Joey's mouth with two light fingers. He's figured out what happened already.
"Not another word," JC says, and Joey nods and smiles gratefully and that's all they say about it ever.
*
The Celebrity tour is the happiest JC's been in a long time. It's low key and they're on stage and they get stupid with each other and it's fun. It's the last tour for a while and they know it and it feels like they all cut loose and just have a good time. It's like the beginning, except better, because they all know each other now.
They're in Iowa or somewhere, some Midwestern city a couple stops before Chicago and Joey's flirting with the costume girls. It never ceases to amuse JC, how Joey wraps every man, woman, and child in sight around his finger.
Justin slouches next to him in a chair and smiles, watching JC watch Joey. "You two, man. All these years and I'll never figure it out."
"Not much to figure out, J." JC leans back in his chair.
"Whatever, C.. He doesn't touch any of the rest of us like he touches you."
"Jealous?" JC smirks.
"I used to be, kind of," Justin tilts his head, watching Joey, then shrugs. "But man, I don't need those kind of complications in my life."
"Yeah," JC sighs.
"Would you change it, if you could?"
"Besides the obvious?" JC asks, and Justin nods. "I don't think so. It's to the point now that I can't imagine things any other way. And I don't think I want to."
"It's kinda fucked," Justin says softly.
"Kinda," JC says, and goes to get ready.
*
The show closes in Orlando, where everything started, and all JC can think about when they go back on stage at the end is Joey, Joey, and there he is. JC's swept up off his feet and swung around and it's like he's flying. When Joey brings him back to earth they're both grinning like idiots at each other and there's no other rush like it. Not even performing.
There's party after party afterward, and JC thinks he should be drunker than he is by the time Joey pulls up in front of his place. JC's lost his car keys again. They get out of the car and JC falls back in the grass, digs his fingers in and feels the lush wetness and thinks there must have been rain earlier. He's looking up at the stars when Joey settles in next to him.
"Don't you have to get home?" JC asks, and Joey grunts an affirmative.
"In a minute," he says.
"Hell of a tour, wasn't it?" JC says, and Joey chuckles next to him. JC turns his head, his eyes sweeping over Joey's face. He looks strange, half shadow in the moonlight. JC can't read him.
"It was," Joey says, and smiles.
Maybe he is drunk, because he can't imagine he has the nerve to do what he does next sober. He leans up on an elbow and scoots closer to Joey, and doesn't think about anything until he feels Joey's lips against his.
The kiss is soft and sweet and chaste, and Joey doesn't pull away. It's JC who does, resting his forehead against Joey's for a long moment before he sits up.
"I should go," Joey whispers. When JC looks over he thinks he sees a flash of something like regret in Joey's eyes, but it's gone after a moment. Joey leans over and presses his lips to JC's shoulder briefly, then stands. "Breakfast tomorrow?" he asks, and JC nods.
*
Joey's on Broadway, doing RENT, and everybody loves him. JC goes up when he can, sneaks in the back and does his best to remain unnoticed. Joey always picks him out right away.
JC crashes at Joey's place in the city a lot, and most days he thinks there's not a whole lot better than stretching out on the floor of Joey's living room watching bad movies with his head resting on Joey's chest, because Joey makes one hell of a pillow. Joey works hard enough that he's almost always asleep within the first twenty minutes, but that's fine by JC, who softens the volume so he can hear the low rumble of Joey's snores as he sleeps.
Sometimes he falls asleep himself, and wakes up with Joey's smell, Old Spice and sweat and fabric softener all mixed together, all over his body. It's hard to pull away then. Harder still when Joey's smiling at him with soft brown eyes, reaching out to brush increasingly unruly hair away from his face.
But the thing about Joey is that he's not just loved, he loves. Everybody. And as much as JC might want differently, he only gets a piece.
Joey, on lazy weekend afternoons when Briahna's asleep. Joey, smiling even as he rests. JC pulls his knees up to his chin and watches, reaches out to run light fingers across facial hair that's just starting to fill in again.
Just a piece, but he makes it be enough.
- fin -
for Jawa