By heidi

words:  Bass Pale Ale, mongrel, starry, pedantic, debutante, Maine, subwoofer
 

The bar was filled with warm, sweaty bodies, moving to the sound emanating from the various woofers and subwoofers of the bar.  The beat heady to the those it reached.

Lance sat in the both, head tilted back, fingers tapping to the rhythm.  He loved nights like this - where there wasn't a worry in the world.  Well, non that mattered at that exact moment at least.  The group had performed the night before, and they had 4 days until their next concert.  So until then, they actually had a few nights where they could do whatever they wanted.  Within bounds, of course.

All the guys had chosen to go to the club, but for different reasons.  Lance liked to go, and be part of a crowd, meet people, enjoy the music.  JC and Justin always wanted to go because they liked to dance.  Okay - loved to dance.  Joey wanted to pick up girls, not that he ever really did anything with them, other than talk.  And Chris?  Well, he hadn't really figured out why Chris went, other than he seemed to enjoy going, even though he didn't dance much, or pick up girls.  He would hang out with who ever was open at the moment.

Opening his eyes from his sated little world, Lance could see that now, he was the open person.  Not that he minded.

Chris settled into the both across from him, pushing a bottle his way.  He had to laugh.  Bass Pale Ale.

"You just love that, don't you?"

"Hey, my theory is, if they're gonna go and name a beer after you, the least you could do is drink it."

Lance simply raised his bottle in salute.

Chris turned his head, and looked out over the group of people dancing.

"Okay.  Someone explain to me, where does JC get his clothes?"

Lanced looked to where Chris was staring, and could see why the older man was laughing.

"I mean, shit, the boy looks like a debutante.  I'm betting half the girls out there wish they looked as pretty as he does."

Shrugging, Lance took another sip of his beer.  "I don't know, Chris.  Justin is looking mighty good himself."

"I think they have a running competition.  That's it.  They want to see who can be the prettiest the most often.  You know, make the rest of us look bad."

Lanced looked down at himself, then looked at Chris.  "We look just fine."

"I know that.  You know that."  Looking over towards the bar, and seeing Joey hitting up some poor girl.  "Well Joey, eh, he's got his own thing going.  But still.  You know as well as I do, the girls do not look all starry eyed as us, because they are so full of JC and Justin."

"And this bothers you?"

"Hell no.  I like being me.  I can do what I want, and no one seems to care."  He frowned a little.  "Well, too much.  I suspect management might care some."

Lance snorted.

"Okay, management would seem to care if I turned into a caveman, or something.  But hey, it's not like we're Van Halen, getting all huffy cause they didn't remove the brown M&Ms or something.  We're good guys.  We just don't get in trouble.  We don't do anything wrong.  We are perfect."

Lance snorted, again.

"Are you doubting me?  It's well known from Florida to Hawaii, Maine to Alaska.  We are the good guys of music."

"You're forgetting Europe."

"And let's not forget Asia."

Lance saluted him again.

"You make us sound so… pedantic, Chris."

"Hey, maybe we are.  Who the hell knows."

Taking another sip of his beer, Lance studied Chris.  As much as Chris tended to run on at times, this little diatribe wasn't his usual blatherings.  "What's up, Chris?"

Chris shrugged, then smiled brightly, the happiness not quite reaching his eyes.  "Hey, you know me, I'm full of bright ideas."

"Uh huh."

"Not buying it, are you?"

A simple shake of his head was his answer.

Lance studied him a little more, then decided to take a chance.  Standing from the booth, he held out his hand to his friend.  "Let's go Chris.  I'm ready to blow this place."

Chris smiled, and took the offered hand.

Leading the other man through the crowd, stopping long enough to tell Joey they were leaving.  Keeping a hold of his hand, he took Chris out to the limo, and then to the hotel.

"Lance?  What's going on?"

"I'm seducing you, Chris."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me.  Come on."

When Chris didn't object, he knew he was on the right track.

"Why me?"

"Why not you?"

"Oh, I don't know.  Maybe because I'm the mongrel of the group?"  Lance raised his brow.  "I'm not the pretty one."  This time Lance leaned back against the elevator wall, and crossed his arms, definitely amused.  "Um, cause I'm so much older?"  Lance snorted.

"Well, you tell me.  Why?"

"I don't know, Chris.  Maybe because I like you?  Because I think you're hot.  Could be that I simply want you."

Actually, this was kinda fun, startling the old guy like this.

"Why now?"

"It was," a slight hesitation, "time."

Chris brightened.  "Okay."

Lance smiled lasciviously at Chris.  Grabbing his hand once again, he dragged his friend to his room. Pressing him against the wall, he kissed the smaller man with everything he had to offer.

Lance finally pulled away, breathing hard.

Chris blinked, bringing his eyes once again into focus.  "Wow."

Lance smiled.

"And to think, I thought Joey would be the one to get lucky tonight."

The End.
 

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