Epilogue

Lance sighed, trying to keep the yawn that was begging to be released inside. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and put his hand in front of his mouth, his attention fully on Matt Lauer, to a casual observer, it appeared as if he was paying complete attention. Behind his hand, he yawned quickly. He heard JC cough softly next to him, and he stole a glance out of the corner of his eye. JC was smirking slightly, and Lance smiled at him. At least one person had caught him.

It was way too early to be making appearances, Lance decided. Especially after last night's concert.

Last night's concert. If there was ever any doubt that JC was in love with him, it was erased last night. Granted, it was erased live on HBO, but hey, Lance was just glad it happened. He was sure the cameras hadn't been in close up range when he and JC caught eyes, and JC was looking at him like he just could not wait to get the hell off the stage, back to their room and into bed.

The look was so intense, so close, that Lance's eyes lit up in surprise, and a small smile graced his lips. Then JC grinned that infuriating grin of his and Lance couldn't help but smile back, knowing he was blushing slightly.

Of course, the look that sent Lance's blood boiling was completely wasted. They were required to attend the HBO after party, and once they could respectfully get out of that, it was too late to do anything but crawl under the covers, quickly kiss each other good night, and fall asleep. They had a four AM wake up call to get to the NBC studios on time.

Lance glanced at the others, taking in their tired expressions, noticing how they all seemed to at least be half-awake. He looked behind Matt, off stage to see Britney leaning against a wall, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes shut. Lance was surprised she got up to come this morning. Although, Justin was probably being a brat and was pissy that she would sleep in, so he made her come.

Lance tuned the interview back in, just in time to hear JC begin to answer a question. Turning his attention to his boyfriend, he studied him as he spoke. That was one good thing, Lance thought, when JC was speaking, he was allowed to stare.

Lance smiled to himself, JC was rambling again. Lance's brow wrinkled when he started listening, was JC actually comparing Napster to a hot dog vendor? Lance caught Chris's eye above JC's head and Chris crossed his eyes at Lance and shook his head. Oh yeah, JC was going to hear about this one for a long time.

“A hot dog vendor, JC?” Chris asked. “You couldn't have picked something a little better?”

JC shrugged and took a sip of coffee, “Look, we're trying to relate to New Yorkers here, Chris. You have to go with something they understand. Sometimes they're not the smartest people in the world.” He discreetly pointed to Joey.

Joey snorted, “Whatever Jace. If thinking I'm stupid will help your wounded hot dog ego, then fine.” He leaned closer to him, “You should have used a Wall Street analogy, JC, do you really think anyone but people with real jobs are going to be up and watching this?”

Justin spoke from his place on the loveseat. He was sitting with Britney's head on his lap, “Or some kind of high school analogy,” he reasoned. “After all, I'm sure they got up this early to watch.” He closed his eyes, “Fools,” he muttered.

JC didn't reply, he just rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch in the green room. He picked Lance's arm up and put it around his shoulders, snuggling close to him.

Touching his hair, wanting so bad to run his fingers through it, but restraining for fear the hair stylist would yell at him, Lance looked down at JC. “We have about a half hour, why don't you sleep for a bit?”

JC nodded, “You too,” he murmured quietly. He dropped his empty coffee cup on the floor, and pulled his legs up onto the couch. Rolling on his back, he looked up at Lance. “I'm really glad we're here.”

“You're glad to be somewhere at seven thirty in the morning? Even I don't believe that,” Lance smiled down at him.

JC shook his head, “No, Lance. I mean, I'm really glad we're here. You and I. I'm glad we're at the place we're at.” He sighed, “I know it was hard on you, the past few weeks.” He reached up and touched Lance's cheek, “But I really love you, Lance, and there's no place I'd rather be.”

Lance caught his hand, bringing it to his lips, and kissing it tenderly before holding it to his cheek. His green eyes searched JC's face, moving over the kissable lips, the chiseled cheekbones, and coming to rest at the impossibly dark blue eyes.

“I would have waited forever if I knew I would end up here with you,” he said softly. “And I agree, there's no place I'd rather be.”


	Inner Reflection \| home back to Secret Desires Epilogue I'D LIKE TO WATCH YOU SLEEP AT NIGHT, TO HEAR YOU BREATHE BY MY SIDE AND ALTHOUGH SLEEP LEAVES ME BEHIND, THERE'S NOWHERE I'D REATHER BE. DIDO, ALL YOU WANT* EPILOGUE - NO PLACE ELSE Lance sighed, trying to keep the yawn that was begging to be released inside. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and put his hand in front of his mouth, his attention fully on Matt Lauer, to a casual observer, it appeared as if he was paying complete attention. Behind his hand, he yawned quickly. He heard JC cough softly next to him, and he stole a glance out of the corner of his eye. JC was smirking slightly, and Lance smiled at him. At least one person had caught him. It was way too early to be making appearances, Lance decided. Especially after last night's concert. Last night's concert. If there was ever any doubt that JC was in love with him, it was erased last night. Granted, it was erased live on HBO, but hey, Lance was just glad it happened. He was sure the cameras hadn't been in close up range when he and JC caught eyes, and JC was looking at him like he just could not wait to get the hell off the stage, back to their room and into bed. The look was so intense, so close, that Lance's eyes lit up in surprise, and a small smile graced his lips. Then JC grinned that infuriating grin of his and Lance couldn't help but smile back, knowing he was blushing slightly. Those camera's better not have been on them. Of course, the look that sent Lance's blood boiling was completely wasted. They were required to attend the HBO after party, and once they could respectfully get out of that, it was too late to do anything but crawl under the covers, quickly kiss each other good night, and fall asleep. They had a four AM wake up call to get to the NBC studios on time. Lance glanced at the others, taking in their tired expressions, noticing how they all seemed to at least be half-awake. He looked behind Matt, off stage to see Britney leaning against a wall, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand, her eyes shut. Lance was surprised she got up to come this morning. Although, Justin was probably being a brat and was pissy that she would sleep in, so he made her come. Lance tuned the interview back in, just in time to hear JC begin to answer a question. Turning his attention to his boyfriend, he studied him as he spoke. That was one good thing, Lance thought, when JC was speaking, he was allowed to stare. Lance smiled to himself, JC was rambling again. Lance's brow wrinkled when he started listening, was JC actually comparing Napster to a hot dog vendor? Lance caught Chris's eye above JC's head and Chris crossed his eyes at Lance and shook his head. Oh yeah, JC was going to hear about this one for a long time. “A hot dog vendor, JC?” Chris asked. “You couldn't have picked something a little better?” JC shrugged and took a sip of coffee, “Look, we're trying to relate to New Yorkers here, Chris. You have to go with something they understand. Sometimes they're not the smartest people in the world.” He discreetly pointed to Joey. Joey snorted, “Whatever Jace. If thinking I'm stupid will help your wounded hot dog ego, then fine.” He leaned closer to him, “You should have used a Wall Street analogy, JC, do you really think anyone but people with real jobs are going to be up and watching this?” Justin spoke from his place on the loveseat. He was sitting with Britney's head on his lap, “Or some kind of high school analogy,” he reasoned. “After all, I'm sure they got up this early to watch.” He closed his eyes, “Fools,” he muttered. JC didn't reply, he just rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch in the green room. He picked Lance's arm up and put it around his shoulders, snuggling close to him. Lance kissed the top of his head, “Tired?” JC closed his eyes, “Mmm,” he answered. Touching his hair, wanting so bad to run his fingers through it, but restraining for fear the hair stylist would yell at him, Lance looked down at JC. “We have about a half hour, why don't you sleep for a bit?” JC nodded, “You too,” he murmured quietly. He dropped his empty coffee cup on the floor, and pulled his legs up onto the couch. Rolling on his back, he looked up at Lance. “I'm really glad we're here.” “You're glad to be somewhere at seven thirty in the morning? Even I don't believe that,” Lance smiled down at him. JC shook his head, “No, Lance. I mean, I'm really glad we're here. You and I. I'm glad we're at the place we're at.” He sighed, “I know it was hard on you, the past few weeks.” He reached up and touched Lance's cheek, “But I really love you, Lance, and there's no place I'd rather be.” Lance caught his hand, bringing it to his lips, and kissing it tenderly before holding it to his cheek. His green eyes searched JC's face, moving over the kissable lips, the chiseled cheekbones, and coming to rest at the impossibly dark blue eyes. “I would have waited forever if I knew I would end up here with you,” he said softly. “And I agree, there's no place I'd rather be.”