"You'd think Carson would have another job by now," JC murmured, flipping by MTV as he tried to find SportsCenter, pulling some stuffed dog that Joey's son had forgotten the last time JC had gotten to see him. "New image or not."

"Would *you* hire Carson?" Chris pointed out, pausing behind the couch and leaning on it for a moment, watching JC flip through the channels. "The guy's a lifer by now. They're gonna brand an MTV logo on his coffin. They'll get people to call in and vote on the top ten places to bury him."

JC smiled to himself, then tilted his head back and blinked up at Chris. "That's kind of tacky," he said, trying to keep a straight face.

"I'm kind of a tacky guy," said Chris with a grin, smacking him lightly on the head with the polishing rag. "I'm finished, in case you cared. You got anything else you want me to do while I'm at it?" He sighed dramatically. "Just call me Cinderella ... "

"You look like one of the rats," JC sniffed, looking back at the TV. "No, just come sit here. Why are you doing all that stuff anyway? I'm bored and cranky and hungover and I can't fucking find fucking SportsCenter on this fucking TV!"

Chris smacked him with the rag again, then dropped it on the table. "You said you wanted the awards cleaned. So I cleaned the awards." He dropped onto the couch next to him a moment later and stretched his arm out along the back. "You should go back to MTV, see if Carter's single is number one again. Wouldn't that cheer you up, if it was?"

"You're not only tacky, you're sadistic," JC sulked. But he found himself gravitating closer to him anyway. "Do you think this is a dog or a bear?" he asked, holding the stuffed animal up, no longer quite sure.

"It's a dog," said Chris, taking it and bouncing it playfully in front of JC's face before dropping it into his lap. When he met JC's eyes, JC knew what was inevitably coming next. "So when's he gonna be here anyway? Did he say, when they two of you talked last night? Or was he just vague like always?"

"Well, which he?" JC said, pulling at the dog's ear. "I talked to both of them. Anthony *and* Joey, I mean."

"Well, either," said Chris with a shrug, moving his hand forward to squeeze JC's shoulder just for a moment. "And ... okay, you gotta tell me what the room arrangements are gonna be for everyone, 'cause I don't know where everything stands after last night."

JC practically pulled the stitching out of the ear. "Um?" he said, not wanting to think about that just yet. Or ... or ever, really. He wondered if he could start drinking off his hangover. "Well. Anthony said that his daddy said that they'd be here tomorrow. I mean, today, now. But, yeah, his daddy was typically vague, so." He hoped that Chris would either drop the room thing, or offer his own suggestion. Or opinion, at least.

Chris didn't really seem about to do that, though, and JC could understand why, a little. They always seemed to put him in the middle -- and sure, Chris bitched and moaned about it, but he was always there, always willing to do it.

"You gonna be okay, seeing them?" he said finally. "The way you put back that bottle last night, I'm guessing it wasn't the most comfortable conversation of your life. You want some coffee or something, before they get here?"

"You don't have to babysit me," JC muttered, then tossed the remote at him. "Just find SportsCenter. And ... I'll be fine. I'm always fine." He was always fine *during*, at least. He wondered why it never got easier.

Chris flipped to the channel right away. "One of these days, you guys are actually gonna say something important to each other," he said, without looking at JC. "Say what you're thinking. And the world isn't, in fact, gonna end."

"Why do we need to do that, when we can both tell you and then you can tell the other one of us?" JC said, sighing. Sighing at all of it. "Anyway. I don't know. Maybe you can help me get Tony's room together and then we'll ... I don't know. Maybe wait for Joe to say something. For the rest."

"You know, one of these days I'm gonna go hide out in Lance's compound for a while and *then* what are you gonna do?" asked Chris, shaking his head at him. "All right, we can go do Tony's room. But don't think I'm letting you leave the whole talking thing on Joey's shoulders."

"I didn't mean talking, I meant ... I meant room assignments," JC said, feeling very much like he was back 15 years earlier and standing outside a hotel room in Germany, bribing Justin to switch rooms. "He makes the decision most of the time anyway."

Chris grunted and took the dog away from him, playing with its ears for a minute while the TV droned in the background. "Yeah, maybe that's part of the problem," he said finally. "Are you even watching this?"

"Yes, and what does that mean?" JC said, grabbing it back. "If he's coming to visit, I'm not going to ... to *force* him to sleep with me. I know I'm pretty pitiful, but come on, Chris."

"It means you guys need to get your shit together," said Chris. "What? You didn't ask me to stay here with you for a while because I *coddle* you, did you? You know me better than that. This weird thing you've got going on now -- it's not good for Tony and it's not good for the rest of his family and it's not good for *you*."

"What rest of his family," JC replied bitterly. "And why DID I ask you to stay with me. Polishing and bed-making skills aside." He rubbed at his head, hating himself more for every time he pushed Chris away too.

"Because I'm a cranky old man and the only one left who's willing to put you in your place," Chris reminded him. "Seriously, JC, do you *like* being this miserable? You're sure wasted enough of your life on doing it."

"I'm *not*," JC said, and he meant it. "I'm not miserable. I love you guys, all of you, but the day we stopped doing the group was ... that was the best thing, for me. And, okay. Look." He faced Chris, actually met his eyes. Which lord knew he did rarely enough. "What would you have me do?"

"Fucking *talk* to him about it," said Chris impatiently. "I know you, JC. I know you're scared that if you talk about it for real, he'll decide to stop doing it and you'll have nothing. But you're not happy the way things *are*, so you may as well. Save *all* of us some grief. Even fucking Timberlake called me the other day, asking how things were."

"You think it won't be worse if I have nothing??" JC said, disbelieving. "That's ... no. No. We tried that. We tried that, when Kelly, and ... Chris. You can't seriously be suggesting that. That, *that* hurt everyone. That hurt his family. You're making too much out of what happens these days. It's nothing like that."

"Well, whatever it is," said Chris, "and some days, I'm not even *sure* what it is, but whatever it is, it's messing you the fuck up. And I really hate to see that. Life's too short, C."

"You're so vague," JC accused, "and it doesn't make you sound smart, I hope you know. If you have a real, real suggestion, other than 'talk to him,' then tell me. Tell me what to say, maybe. Tell me what'll win him over. Tell me how to tell him no, if that's what you think I should do. Just ... don't keep telling me how sad I am. I fucking KNOW how sad I am."

He took a breath. That had been a long time coming.

"Then *do* something about it," snapped Chris, his patience obviously stretched right to the limit. "I don't know how long I can just sit here and watch this, this little game between the two of you. Both of you scared to talk about being together for real because you're afraid of what the other will say. So it's always fucking status quo with you too, leaving one very confused kid in the middle."

"Way to, you know, shove some salt in there," JC said, slumping back into the sofa. "I know it's not your job, Chris, and I know it's not fair for us to do this to you, but." He looked up. "I haven't stopped loving him, not for a second, for like twenty years. Can you just ... help?"

"I would *love* to help," said Chris. "I am *trying* to help. I'm trying to get you to see how important it is to *do* something about this. What, you think I just moved in here with you for a while to be an ass? No. I actually have a home to go back to. I *want* to help. So ... what ... *do* you want to be with him? You just have to say."

"I have said that," JC replied. "I *have* said that. I've said it to him, even, and ... it just never happens. Which is why I keep thinking that this is the way he wants things. This ... this pattern." He picked up the dog, again, and moved it idly between their legs, on the cushion.

Chris nodded slowly, and stared at the television for a minute. "Have you asked him what he wants?" he asked finally. "Or I guess, more important, has he answered you?"

"You know Joey," JC felt himself smile. "If he can make a joke, a serious question won't get answered. I think ... sometimes I think he does this because it really *is* easier. Easier than having to say no."

"Look ... do you want *me* to talk to him?" asked Chris after another pause. "I'm already in the middle of this whole thing again, I might as well. It's not as if I have anything better to do. And ... if it would help, I'd do that for you."

JC just nodded, then sighed. "Can you, um, maybe wait until tomorrow, though?" he said, feeling his cheeks flush a little. "Just. In case."

"In case it's your last night together?" said Chris softly, then sighed. "Fine, I will. But okay, once I get the ball rolling with him, it's up to you guys to work the details out. I'll only go so far, JC. After that ... you have to decide what you want and work for it."

"I *know* what I want," JC reminded him stubbornly, but was smiling. He picked up the dog and pretended to make it speak his next words, affecting a funny voice. "Thank you mister Chris. You're a lifesavor, a trooper, JC's best friend in the whole wiiiiide world ... "

Chris rolled his eyes at him, but he laughed. "All right, Fido, let's go do Tony's room before they get here." At least doing that would keep JC's mind off what was going to happen later.

"I don't DO sheets," JC added in the voice, then put the dog down. "I should go to the store," he realized. "I don't have any cereal, any more beer, any gifts for Tony ..."

"Maybe skip the beer," suggested Chris mildly. "Just while they're here. But yeah, you can go get the rest if you want. Get you out of the house for a while while I do my Cinderella act and wait for *me* fairy godmother to show up."

JC smiled at him. "No, you have to come, the toy store isn't the same without you." He took in Chris's appearance, his real smile, the laugh-lines around his eyes, and his heart twinged a little. "Come on, come with me. It'll be faster if we make the bed together and go."

"Sure, fine," said Chris, rolling his eyes again but still smiling. "You just keep on telling me what to do. Some things *never* change."

"I always knew you were a closet sub," JC said, grinning wider. His head felt better. "You love it."

Chris snorted but JC noticed he didn't argue with that. "All right," he said. "Let's go do this, then. You don't wanna be gone when they get here." Even though Joey did have keys, and it wouldn't have been a huge deal. "To the toy store we go!"

"I don't even know that they're *coming*, today, for sure ... " JC protested, but he let Chris tug him toward the door. It didn't matter. He needed to go. "You driving?" He wrapped his arms around Chris's shoulders and hung on his back.

"I thought we just decided that I don't like to drive," snorted Chris, practically dragging him along behind. "And you know they're coming today. Tony said they were."

"I only *wish* Tony made the rules," JC said, letting a tiny sigh escape. "Anyway. Ha ha, you're very funny, blah blah blah, but I still have a hangover. You can take my caa-ar ..." he offered.

Chris grinned back at him and bounced and for a second it was just like the old days again. "You sure know how to woo a guy," he said. "You'll have no trouble with Joey at all. Now come on, gimme the keys and let's go."

"You really *are* a sub," JC teased, pulling them out of his pocket. "Justin'd be fishing around in my pants for them already."

"Well, I am not, nor ever have been, Justin Timberlake," said Chris, straightening himself up proudly. "Do you have your wallet? You forgot last time, remember?"

"Oh, shoot," JC said, running back down the hall and grabbing it. "Okay, yes," he said, holding it up proudly. "Now. To the toy store, Jeeves! And don't peel out, with my car, man. I know you."

"You let me drive, you deal with the consequences," said Chris with a bit of wicked flair, holding the door open so JC could step outside. "And you can't take it back now. Too bad!" Then he let out a little, devious laugh and locked up the house behind them.

"So, um," JC said, kicking at the sidewalk as they walked to the car. "So. What do you think you'll say to him? Joey, I mean. As opposed to whatever other him I might have possibly been talking about."

"Before or after I tie him down and force him to talk to me?" asked Chris, and for a second JC wasn't entirely sure whether he was joking or not.

"Oh, you. You think he won't want to talk," JC nodded, glancing down as he climbed into the car. "About me, huh. Why is that, anyway??"

"Because the two of you are way too damn much alike and neither one of you likes to talk about the important things until forced. And then once you're forced, you won't shut up about it. So I tie him down, get him going and then invite you in. That's the plan."

"While he's tied up?" JC raised an eyebrow. "You gonna blindfold him too and maybe hope he never figures out he's talking to me instead of you?"

"I'm just there to get him primed," said Chris as he started the car and, yes, peeled out of the driveway. "You're the one he needs to be talking to. Or are you trying to make me do this *all* myself. Hmm?"

"You *offered*," JC reminded him, holding on to the door. "Seriously, though. What are you gonna tell him? You better not say how I always drink after we talk, Kirkpatrick, or I'll kill you ... "

"You think he doesn't know that already, C?" said Chris, turning his head briefly to meet JC's eyes. "You always drink when you're upset. More now than ever. No, I'm just gonna ask him what he wants to get out of his thing with you, and go from there, I guess."

"That's a good question," JC nodded. "A good start. And I do not always drink when I'm upset. That's ... seriously, Chris, I'm not Lance. Way to be movie-of-the-week."

"You do, too," said Chris firmly. "Unlike Lance, who doesn't need an excuse to drink. I'm just saying -- Joey probably knows damn well you drink after talking to him. Maybe not how *much* or anything, but that's not my business to tell him."

"Okay, we're veering," JC shook his head. "Forget it. I want you to be my Yoda for Joey, man, not the rest of the things I'm dumb at in my life."

"Well hey, no one handed me a job description or anything," said Chris. "How was I supposed to know that? And I'm pretty sure polishing your awards wasn't in it either, but you didn't mind me doing *that*."

JC sighed. "So what should I get Tony?" he asked, drumming a little on the dashboard. "He's getting so big. Almost two, already. Time for books and stuff."

"I'd say get him a drum kit, but I think his daddy's already taken care of it. Or his mommy has, because she's sadistic and wants to drive his daddy crazy. So yeah, books are safe."

"But I won't be his best Uncle JC if I just get him boring books," JC said. "Paints? Are fingerpaints too old for him? Help me out, Chris, you've got a million nephews."

"Yeah, but you know him better than I do. He's probably all discovering his creative side. Fingerpaints, coloring books, big fat crayons. He won't be able to do much but scribble, but kids like colorful stuff. Just make sure it's washable, unless you're willing to be Joey's laundry bitch."

"I'm willing to be Joey's anything bitch," JC admitted, even though it wasn't much of an admission. "Think he'll have me?" He barely kept from hitting his head repeatedly against the window, in frustration.

"He'd be a fucking moron not to," Chris assured him. "Of course, this *is* Joey we're talking about. Don't bleed on the windows; I'm not cleaning them for you."

"Yeah, yeah," JC muttered, but he was smiling again. Joey *would* be a moron not to. "Maybe me and Tony can paint together while y'all talk."

"You can do whatever you want," he said neutrally. "You know, it wouldn't be *awful* to get him some books, too. Lotsa nice, bright pictures. You liked books when you were a kid, didn't you?"

"I loved them," JC agreed. "And I will. I just don't want him eating them. Or, like. Clubbing me over the head with them. That would suck. Do you think Joey'll let us teach him how to play sports?"

Chris snickered and shook his head. "He'll let him, sure, but I think the actual *teaching* is gonna be up to you. Joey can barely play catch and he's practically middle-aged."

"I meant me and *you*, us," JC said, laughing. And then glancing over at Chris. "I mean. If you're still gonna be around, down the road, and stuff. Still be here for us. Him. Whatever."

Chris just shrugged. "Where else am I gonna go?" he asked, then gave JC another little smile. "I'm a lifer."

"Well, you did point out that you have a house," JC said gently. Which he did. JC just wasn't sure he'd ever spent a single night in it. "What are you gonna do when you don't have us kids to take care of?"

"Die, probably," muttered Chris, "since I'll be, like, a hundred and ten by then. So have we decided what we're gonna get the kid? One of everything in the store? Joey'll *love* us for that."

"Yes; spoil the child, worm your way into the dad's heart. It's a foolproof plan." JC felt his legs bouncing like Chris's. "He cares back, right, Chris? and he knows I'd do fucking ANYTHING for that kid? both kids, really, if we ever got to see Bri. But. He knows?"

"There's no way he doesn't know that," Chris assured him firmly. "It's not like you're subtle about it. And if there's one thing Joey *does* pick up on, it's when someone loves his kids. He gets her for two weeks this summer, right? Bri? I mean, that didn't fall through or anything?"

"As far as I know it's still on," JC said carefully. Sometimes Joey didn't confide in him about that stuff. "Um. It may be subject to ... to where he's living. Or who he's with. I don't know."

"I know she hates Tony's mom, but Kelly was always all right about you," said Chris. "I mean, as all right as Kelly was about anyone. If that's what you were worried about."

JC smiled sadly. "You believe that?" He took about two seconds to consider whether he should tell Chris the truth. "She actually, uh, she threatened me. So. She wasn't exactly all right about me. Until, yeah, she had Pamela to resent instead."

"She fucking *what*?" said Chris, braking hard at a stop sign before turning into the parking lot. " She threatened you?"

"Yeah," JC said, shivering a little at the memory. "One of the Christmasses, she. She like, got out this frying pan. I had to leave and go to Justin's on Christmas Eve, for the rest of the holiday. It was really, really. Shitty."

"Little bitch," said Chris, less a condemnation that a snarky pet name he'd developed for her years ago. JC had always appreciated it. "Joey should really contest her custody, you know. But ... none of my business. Anyway, we're here."

"Yep," JC replied. "Well. Maybe you can talk to him about that, too. While you've got him tied up and at your mercy, and all."

"I might talk to that boy about a *lot* of things when he's tied up and at my mercy," said Chris. "His love life, parenting, nuclear physics. It'll be a real fun time."

"It *could* be," JC murmured, looking out at the bright sign and the parking lot full of kids. "So just the me-part of that love life, or all of it?"

"You can't talk about one part of a guy's love life wthout getting into all of it," said Chris confidently, getting out of the car as he spoke. "It just doesn't work that way. It's all tied up together in a big knot of sex and love and nasty breakups."

"Love and *sex*," JC corrected absently. It felt like it had always been about love first, for the two of them, even when it wasn't. "So, okay. What am I buying here. And then ... then we have to stop so I can get Joey something too."

"You're asking *me* what you're buying here?" laughed Chris. "You know he'll just end up with something *I* want to play with. Some toys are just timeless, man." He paused and gave JC a look. "What were you planning on getting Joey?" he asked, almost *too* casually.

"Um," JC said, pulling out his wallet and checking to see how much cash he had. For the toy store, not for ... Joey. "I just. He'd said something about wanting a new watch, and I saw one the other day that I thought he'd like ... " He trailed off when he saw the way Chris was looking at him.

Then Chris just shrugged and looked away again. "The guy can buy his own watch you know, JC," he said, still casually. "You don't have to buy him something to make him want to sleep with you. And if you do, he's not worth your trouble in the first place."

"It's just a *gift*, Chris," JC said, walking quicker into the store. "Like, to say I was thinking about him. Not a bribe. You actually think I'd *have* to resort to that, let alone *do* it??"

"No," said Chris, and JC knew Chris was struggling to catch up but he didn't slow down. "I don't think you have to do it. I don't think you need to get Joey a present like you want to get Tony a present, though. He likes you just fine without them. And he's *already* spoiled."

"Who, Joey?" JC asked. "Spoiled how? *I* don't spoil him. I barely get to see him, let alone spoil him. And then he gets all weird if I try. You really think I do that? I don't do that." He knew he sounded defensive but he really believed what he was saying.

"I didn't say *you* spoiled him, I said he was spoiled," said Chris. "And besides, you do. He gets to have you whenever he feels like it. That's spoiled, in my book."

JC smiled and finally slowed down enough to let Chris in ahead of him. "You're so nice to me, these days," he laughed. Chris never would have been caught dead giving a backhanded compliment like that when they were still a group.

"And you love me for it," he said, giving JC a bit of a smug smile. "Now what *are* we looking for anyway? You know better than to let me loose in a toy store." Even now, when Chris was way too old for it to be considered even quirky.

"Hmm," JC said, looking around. "Well. Since you're here, actually, maybe just some balls. I just mean, then the three of us can play. And then, yeah, some crayons and stuff. The big ones. And coloring books. Yeah?" He didn't have the first clue, really, even after seeing Brianna through these stages. Tony was different.

"And you wanted fingerpaints," Chris reminded him. "Just make sure they're washable, or all the charm in the world won't get Joey back into your bed." He grinned, and the teasing didn't hurt so much. "Balls, coloring books, paints ... I think we're covered."

"Cool," JC smiled, bumping in to Chris with his hip. "Even though I don't know about that. I have some tricks for getting him into bed that haven't failed yet ... "

"Yeah, well, what with your years and years of practice, you ought to," snorted Chris. "Oh, hey, do they have lego here? Of course they have lego here. We should get some. Except ... oh right. Two. Two's a little young for lego." JC douldn't tell if it was just Chris being his usual random self, or if he was genuinely trying to change the subject.

"Not to mention that you taught me half of them," JC snuck in, then tried to look innocent as he glanced down the aisle. "But legos would be good. The big kind?"

"Oh, right, they make big ones, too," said Chris, grinning suddenly. "Yeah, maybe *I* want to get him some legos and screw you and *your* gifts. I get to be a favorite uncle too, sometimes, you know."

"You do," JC nodded, knowing for sure that Chris had been trying to change the subject after all. And making him want to push it that much more. "You get TOny legos and I'll ... I'll ... hmm. Insert your own pegs-in-holes innuendo here."

"Shush, you dirty thing, you," said Chris. "There are small children around. You need to be at least ten before you get to learn about things like that. Do you need me to point you to where the art supplies are?"

"I think I can find them," JC replied, rolling his eyes. "Is that a dismissal? are you trying to get rid of me? do you think I won't *see* whatever you end up buying, you goober?"

"No, I just have serious doubts about your ability to know what's fun and what isn't," said Chris. "So I'm offering my services, to point out where the fun stuff is. Because, of course, I *know*."

"You *are* a goober," JC smiled, and wrapped his arm around Chris's neck. "And I'm not *that* big of a square, Chris. I have learned a thing or two since I've been able to be myself. Since the group."

"I'm still not convinced you know what's fun," said Chris, nudging JC with his shoulder. "Or you wouldn't keep asking me what you should get for him." He started just leading JC up on of the aisles, going faster than he was probably comfortable with. "Just come with me. You big square."

"I *decided* what to get," JC whined, but he followed anyway. If it had been Joey, he'd have grabbed his hand. He was tempted to do it anyway. Chris might give him a hard time about the situation with Joey, but he also made JC confident in it.

"Yeah, after you asked me," insisted Chris, grabbing something off the shelf on his way by. JC didn't even see what it was. "You know who the master is. This is why you need to keep me around, you know."

"One of the reasons," JC nodded, then finally gave in and wrapped his fingers around Chris's free hand. "That and how you make really good coffee. And take my dogs out when you walk in the morning."

"Well, they're all yipping at me when I get up, what'm I *supposed* to do?" he asked gruffly, tightening his fingers around JC's. "They won't let me go without them."

"You spoil them, they spoil me, I spoil Tony ... it's a vicious cycle," JC murmured, smiling automatically at the rare affectionate gesture from Chris. "And I never *hear * you when you get up."

"Well, you gave me the room off in no man's land," said Chris, pausing in front of a showcase of coloring books. "No wonder you don't hear me. I appreciate the gesture and all, so I don't have to hear all the bed gymnastics when you see Joey, but still. You got no room to complain."

"Well," JC murmured, picking up one with old-fashioned Winne-the-Pooh on it. "You certainly weren't in no-man's-land *this* morning, and I still didn't hear you."

"Well, you sleep like the dead," said Chris, a little more quietly, a little more subdued. "No, no, no, that's not fun. Pick a different one."

"I think you were *trying* not to wake me up," JC insisted, knowing exactly how light a sleeper he could be when there was anybody else around. "And this *is* fun. It's Pooh. It's age-appropriate."

"Okay, okay, but get something else, too," he said, completely ignoring the rest of what JC was saying. "What's that stupid cartoon that's on now? With the cats and the spaceships? They oughta have a coloring book for that, too. Get that."

JC found what Chris was talking about but then swung around to face him, to block his view of the rack. Still holding his hand. "Hey. *Are* we gonna talk about that? Or just not. Which is okay but I'd rather stop feeling like a dipshit for bringing it up, if we're not."

"What's there to talk about?" asked Chris, shrugging at him and looking away. "It was just ... I don't know what. And I'm gonna be back at the end of the hall again tonight anyway. We need to go find some big crayons."

"Hey, don't," JC said, quiet himself, yanking on Chris's hand but as gently as he could. "If it's a thing, we can talk about ... I mean, it's why I thought you asked. About the sleeping arrangements. Is that dumb?"

"You know it's not dumb," said Chris, looking at the floor and shaking his head. "I just don't know what there is to talk about. You needed me there, and now you don't, and that's all there is to it, right? It's not like it was anything."

"Who says now I don't?" JC insisted. He didn't remember everything that happened, but he remembered Chris being so gentle with him, so nice and sympathetic and *warm*. "It wasn't a thing meaning it wasn't a sex thing, I get that, but. It was a thing."

"Well," said Chris, starting down the aisle again. "What kind of a thing was it, then? I'd love to know. Because what i got from you was, it wasn't a thing. We don't have a thing."

"It wasn't a thing, but," JC said, trying to make sense. "It just reminded me of before. Of the group. When we never slept alone unless we wanted the space, you know? there was always someone there to wrap their arms around you if you needed it. It just felt all ... before-y."

"Ah," said Chris, with almost no expression. "Before-y. I get it. Well, that still doesn't mean there's anything to talk about. You just ... you let me know, when you need to be before-y. You know I'm there."

"I know, I'm lucky," JC said, then turned to grab a Mickey Mouse coloring book too, despite the risk of Chris making fun of him for it. "Um, not to be movie-of-the-week again, but nothing else happened, right? I wasn't too clingy? flirty?" "You were just you," said Chris softly. JC didn't know what the meant, when Chris said it like that, though. "It was fine."

"Well, what was fine," JC pressed, still gentle but more awkward. "I was, you mean? I didn't do anything unsolicited?"

"You didn't do anything I didn't want," Chris assured him. "What did you pick up there? What, you indoctrinating the kid on Disney early? Don't you people learn from your mistakes?"

"Chris, come *on*," JC said, finally shaking his hand free of Chris's. His way of expressing frustration. "Enough with the non-answers and the subject changes. Do we have something that needs to be talked about, yes or no?"

"JC," he said softly. "Just don't, okay? Especially not in the middle of a toystore. And anyway, Joey's coming. Aren't you supposed to be excited about that? You don't need to be worrying about last night. You didn't do anything you can't take back."

JC blinked at him, then turned slowly and put the coloring books in the shopping cart. "I'm guessing that's a yes," he murmured, running his suddenly-sweaty palms over his thighs. Nothing he couldn't take back? what did *that* mean? "But if you don't want to do it here ... you're right. Not here."

"Right," Chris echoed him. "Not here. So is that enough coloring books or do you want another half dozen. Maybe Tony's a prodigy or something. We need to support stuff like that."

"This is enough for now," JC admitted, pushing the cart down the aisle. "So, um. Balls and Legos and paints. Then. Um, we can forget the jewelry store and maybe go get some lunch?"

"No, you can get Joey something if you want," said Chris, turning completely around on the subject. "I know you want to. You should do that, if you want. So what kind of balls you want to get?" He grabbed a big package of crayons off the shelf and dumped them in the cart.

"No, I want those," JC said, picking them back up and pointing at the other brand. "And I can get Joey something any time. We should go home anyway, make the beds like we said ... talk, someplace where you don't have an excuse, all that." He chewed on his lip. "A tiny basketball I think. Easier to throw."

"I wasn't making excuses," said Chris, and JC could *tell* that he was lying. He didn't know how Chris couldn't possibly know that yet. Chris grabbed the other crayons for him."Find your paints first. The sports stuff is at the other side of the store."

JC wanted to stamp his foot again, but he obeyed. The sooner they got done, the sooner they could get this resolved. "What about your legos," he murmured, after verifying that the paints he'd chosen *were* washable.

"I'll get 'em on the way," said Chris. "Or whatever. He'd probably just chew on them anyway, he's still little. You think he likes dolls?"

"He likes those beanie things," JC mumbled, taking the cart away from Chris, then just stopping in the aisle. "Okay, this is dumb. It doesn't matter if we're in a toy store. We can be discreet. What did I *do*, Chris."

"You didn't do anything, JC," he insisted. "You don't have to keep pushing this. You just need to be figuring out what you're doing with Joey, and I'm even *helping* you with that. So you don't need to worry about whatever went on last night. It was nothing."

"You don't get to say that," JC shook his head. "You don't get to decide that. Okay? Tell me and I'm sure I'll agree it was nothing. Did I ... I mean, because of how I sleep? Did that weird you out, me not ... me naked? Or is it just that, just that we slept together for the first time in a while."

"We haven't done that in a long time," said Chris, still very obviously avoiding his eyes. "It was nice. It was good. I wouldn't mind doing that again, some time. Just ... I mean, if the Joey thing doesn't pan out. Which it will, because that's what you want and you're gonna work for it. So it doesn't matter."

"Here's the legos," JC pointed out, then crossed his arms. "Okay. So, you're ... you're lonely? is that the deal? because seriously, Kirkpatrick, you've got me freaked that I totally stuck my tongue down your throat, or up your ... something else, or something."

"We didn't have sex," said Chris bluntly. "And am I lonely? Of course I'm fucking lonely. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out, JC. Which set do you think I should get, here?"

JC squinted. "The, like, block ones," he said, far too distracted to be any help. "And I didn't mean ... I just. You're acting like it's more *me*, and the things I should do and say are different if it's *me* than if it's just *somebody*. That you, um, want. Not saying you do. Just."

"I pretty much *live* with you," Chris pointed out, like it explained everything, as he picked out a huge box of lego blocks. "You ever even think about what that might mean, C?"

And JC couldn't very well say that he hadn't, even if he hadn't. "But why?" he asked, so simply. "Just because I asked you to? why would you offer to talk to *Joey* about me, if ... if that's what's going on?"

"Because it's what you want," said Chris, briefly again, not wasting any words. "We really don't need to talk about this, JC. It won't change anything."

"Right, so here's the part where I ask what about what *you* want," JC replied, starting back down the next aisle. "Am I stupid? was I being stupid and blind and stupid and did I miss *signals*, Chris?"

"Yeah, obviously," said Chris, grabbing something else off the shelf and dumping it in the cart. Colored play clay. "I can take care of myself, JC. I know what I want doesn't really figure into this equation. So do you want me to leave, now that you know? I do have a house to go back to."

"I don't even ... " JC had no idea what he wanted. What he was supposed to want. "What did I *do* last night, Chris? Can you just tell me that part, first? did I ... did I encourage this, did I say something?" That was more than possible, actually. He knew his feelings had started to be increasingly ... unclassifiable, when it came to Chris, and who knows what he might have admitted when he was drunk.

Chris sighed, heavily, and finally paused again in the middle of the aisle. "All you did was kiss me," he said, "and then you fell asleep. And that was it. You didn't do anything to lead me on, JC, you didn't do anything wrong.You didn't do anything different than you have in the, like, fifty years I've known you."

"Okay," JC exhaled, more relieved than he imagined he would be. Just because ... just because he'd want to remember something more. Not that he wouldn't want to remember what *had* happened ... "That's good. Okay. So. Was it ... and it was me? was it nice, or. Drunk and lame."

Chris actually laughed, suddenly. "It was pretty drunk and lame," he admitted, looking at JC -- finally -- out of the corner of his eye. "But still, it was ... nice, yeah. It's been a long time. You know?"

JC chewed on his lip. Drunk and lame was not much of a rave review. And Joey. JoeyJoeyJoey. His mind was a million, trillion places at once. "And you wanted to," he clarified. "You wanted it?"

"It's not like I couldn't have gotten away if I didn't want it. I stayed in bed with you after." He sighed again. "Now you see why I didn't want to do this in a toy store? But it's too late now."

"At least this way we can't run away from it," JC pointed out, weakly. "And, um. For the record? Maybe you're right about the drinking thing. If nothing else, this is ... proof I should cool it a little."

"Right," he said. "Right. Because you wouldn't want that to happen again. Especially not with Joey -- and Tony -- there. How long are they staying, again?"

"I don't know," JC almost whispered, kicking the wheel of the cart. "I don't even know if he'll ... if they'll show up today, remember? And it's just ... it's just that not remembering sucks, Chris. Not remembering *kissing* you; that sucks."

"It's probably better that way," said Chris, trying to push the cart again. "And you know they're going to come today. Joey wouldn't disappoint Tony like that. I believe you wanted to get balls?"

"I believe I did," JC murmured, sighing. He *did* know they'd be there today. He didn't know what that meant. "Anyway, I don't think it's better, and we'll make up the guest room next to the one you're in, for Joey. Okay? Does that work?" He pushed the cart faster.

"JC," he said. "Don't ... you have to do what you want. If you don't do what you want, then everything i've wanted to you is just ... wasted. Everything I've done is wasted. Don't you dare do that."

"Look, you don't know, okay?" JC said, kicking the cart again as he pushed it. "You don't know. Obviously, I don't know, there's some reason I ask you to stay with me even when he visits, and a reason I kissed you. You're *there* for me, Chris, in a way he isn't, and I love him, but what I want isn't cut-and-dry. And you said yourself, earlier, that I can't just let him have me when it's convenient. You stay and it's *never* convenient. You stay."

"I told you you needed to sort out what you wanted with him," said Chris flatly, "and I meant it, you do. And then when you do, then I can figure out what *I'm* gonna do. From now on, I mean, not what I *have* been doing. Which has just been a ... a holding pattern, I guess."

JC nodded. He could see it, now. Chris never did anything without a reason. Not that he was self-centered, just that ... he would have pushed JC to do something earlier if he was only looking out for JC.

"I love him," he said, and it was an apology. "For so long, I have. And Tony, he's ... I love him, too."

"You can't possibly believe I don't know that," said Chris. And JC didn't. "I'll move my things when we get back. Or I can wait, until after this visit, so I can talk to Joey for you. And not upset Tony. None of us want that."

"You don't have to go, Chris," JC said. Although he didn't know what he was asking for, exactly. "I don't want you to. Except that it isn't fair for me to put you in this position, I know that. What ... can I ask what you *do* want? Just, just me?"

"Yeah," said Chris. "You. Just you. Maybe ... maybe I'll go visit Lance for a while. That's far enough away, put a bit of distance on this. I can shake up *his* life a little for a while. The guy needs it."

"He'd be very lucky," JC replied, only barely noticing they were stopped in the middle of the aisle. "*Why* me, Chris. Why. Don't make me make up stupid reasons like you let yourself fall for me because you're scared of actually being in love and you were certain I'd never be the one to love you back so it was safe ... "

"No, no, I actually thought you might be able to," muttered Chris, grabbing something random off the shelf and staring at it intently. "Except, you never got over the Joey thing. So if I can't have you, at least I can make sure Joey will treat you right."

"You never ... you never *said*," JC repeated, even though if he was being fair, that shouldn't have mattered, and it wasn't Chris's job. JC had just *not* gotten over the Joey thing, that was the truth. "That's kind of ... I'm kind of dense, sometimes, Chris."

"Yeah, I know," said Chris, not even making a joke of it. "I'm gonna help you get what you want, JC, if I can. What more do you want from me?"

JC had to say "nothing," even if it felt like he was implicitly agreeing to the rest of it. To the part where Chris assumed he'd chosen Joey, or turned CHris down, or whatever. "So a lame kiss, huh," he said. "You should be glad you got out when you did."

"Even your lame kisses are good," murmured Chris, putting the box back on the shelf again. "Even when you don't mean them."

"In vino, veritas," JC mumbled. "Val Kilmer was hot in that movie. And ... yeah. That's all I have to say. We're not just friends, Chris. I don't know what we are, but no kiss I gave you or give you is meaningless."

"You didn't even remember it," said Chris with a shrug, like it didn't matter. And again, it was easy for JC to pinpoint that Chris was lying to him. "It can't mean much if you don't remember it. And none of us are 'just friends', JC, we never will be. That doesn't mean anything."

"You know how much I drank last night," JC said, evenly. "Better than me, I'm sure. And I also know you know I didn't ... well. I *wouldn't* have freaked, if you'd still been there when I woke up. And ... and our 'not just friends' is different. It is."

"It's different to me," he said, looking up and down the aisle as though to make sure they were alone. "I don't know that it's different to you."

"Why do I call you first, then?" JC asked. "Why do I tell you this stuff, why do I trust you to be in between me and Joey in this? You think you're not completely separate to me from Lance, or Justin?"

"I'm here, they're not," said Chris, sounding reasonable. "I don't have a life you'd be taking me away from, anymore. They do. No, okay, I don't know why you do all that, JC, but I can guess. And it's okay, you know. I accepted it a long time ago."

"Oh, piss off," JC said mildly, and started back over to where he guessed the balls were. "Like I could trust either of those goobs as far as I could throw them. Have you ever heard me ask any of them -- even Joey -- for advice? I've *always* looked up to you, and not in a weird hero-worship way, either."

"Yeah, I know," admitted Chris a moment later, still so subdued. Keeping himself under remarkable control. "I do know that much. But it's not ... do you even know how hard it is to be having this conversation, C?"

"Obviously not," JC mumbled, before turning the cart around awkwardly in the aisle. "Come on, forget the balls, let's just ... pay for this stuff and go. We need to work it out before Joey gets here at least. Whether it's hard or not."

"I'll do what I promised, said Chris, yanking the cart in the other direction, knowing exactly where the balls were. "There. Pick one. I'll talk to Joey tonight even. Make him understand what you want from him, find out if he can give it back to you. I'll do that for you."

"No," JC said stubbornly, tugging the cart back. "Come *on*. And what will you tell him. What are you even going to say that he doesn't know?"

Chris grabbed one anyway, a little basketball, like JC had wanted. "I don't know what I'm going to say that he doesn't know, but I'm going to try at least. So you can be happy."

JC sighed and took the ball out of Chris's hands, finally heading for the checkout. "You think it'll work?" Because he didn't. What was *Chris* going to be able to convince Joey of, that JC couldn't?

"I don't know," said Chris. "I'm just gonna try. Because you wanted me to. Do we have everything?"

"I don't want you to, anymore," JC said, stopping again. He meant it, too. "Just ... it's not right. I can't ask you to do it, knowing that ... knowing about us. Okay? I'll ... I'll figure out how to talk to him myself, and if he doesn't react, then. I'll figure out something else."

Chris nodded his head, staring at the contents of the cart. "I can be gone before he gets there, then," he offered. "So it's not too awkward. Give Tony his presents for me?"

"No, no *no*," JC insisted. "No. You're staying. If ... if you want to, of course. I'm going to need you there, when- if. If he says he doesn't want things to change."

"I *know* you didn't mean that the way it could've come out," said Chris slowly. "So. You sure you want me to stay?"

"Mean what the way it could've come out?" JC said. "And yes, yes, a million times yes. He already knows you're staying with me, anyway. And I want you there. I do. There's things I want to do."

"What, like make me cook dinner?" said Chris, managing a smile. "All right, I'll stay. I just ... won't be your back-up plan, JC. I have a little more self-respect than that. Not much, but a little."

JC sighed. He knew that was how it sounded. What he didn't know was whether it was how he meant it. "How will that not happen?" he asked. The hard question. "If I tell you right now that Joey's already used up all his chances, without asking him once more?"