Easy
by Velma

~..~

Joey was everything about Orlando that mattered to JC. He was pretty much JC’s first memory of the town, the first riend he made there, and when the group formed, and they started traveling in Germany, JC was the only one who never really got homesick. He brought his home with him.

It never really occurred to him that what he felt for Joey was unnatural or weird, because he felt it in varying degrees for the other four. Joey’d destroyed any concept of personal space he had long before the group formed, so it wasn’t a big deal that they clung to each other or hugged or shared beds.

It probably should have been a big deal when Joey kissed him in the back of the bus one night as they trundled along some dark German road. But it wasn’t. It felt surprisingly normal, which is maybe why JC found himself burying his fingers in that dark hair and kissing Joey back.

“Joey,” he’d finally said, when he’d pulled away, “Joey, I’m not…”

“Shh,” Joey had said, leaning forward again, “it’s okay.”

And it was okay. It was easy and natural and not at all what it was supposed to be, but JC found that things like that often happened when he was around Joey. He made everything easy.

But the thing about JC was that he hated the easy way. He’d been told time and time again that nothing good ever came without hard work, so the relative ease with which he settled into a relationship with Joey was more than a little disconcerting.

“Dude, you need to fucking chill,” Chris had said, when JC had asked him about it. “Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. He loves you, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to see from the way you look at him you love him back.”

JC knew Chris was right, but it didn’t make him any less worried about the whole thing.

They were filming scenes for some crap movie Lou was producing – “Long Shore” or “Big Shot” or “Long Shot” or something sounding vaguely like a porno, and JC and Joey were wrestling, goofing off like they were prone to, when Lou walked over to them.

“Cut it out, both of you,” he’d hissed, glaring at them. “Can you not keep your hands off each other for five fucking minutes? At least try to pretend you’re not a couple of pansies while the cameras are rolling. You do realize people are watching.” He’d stalked off angrily, then, and JC had stood there, eyes on his feet, for a good five minutes before Chris walked past, nudging him.

“Don’t let him get to you, man. It’s just Lou being the asshole he always is.”

JC had nodded, then, but he couldn’t get those words out of his head. People were watching. He’d known that, he supposed, subconsciously maybe, but he hadn’t ever really considered what that meant. Now all he could think about were the ways he interacted with Joey, the easy touches, the soft smiles. Under any sort of scrutiny? Fuck.

Things were going to have to change.

He tried being more guarded, tried being more careful around Joey, but he couldn’t, didn’t have the ability to say no to Joey, to pull away like that.

Joey would grin at him, wide and pure, and JC would lose himself all over again.

He always thought about it, though. And those thoughts led to distance.

Then the lawsuit happened, and there was nothing but distance.

JC had never been more angry in his life. At Lou, mostly, but also at the fact that they’d all been such clueless amateurs. They’d worked so hard and sacrificed so much, and he wasn’t about to let that bastard win.

He stayed up late at night, poring over legal documents, making sure everything was there, all the evidence of how badly they’d been screwed. He worked for hours on end on his own brief, sitting wearily at a laptop, typing away. Every so often he’d look up and find Joey refilling his coffee mug, eyes soft. He’d smile and thank him and turn back to his work.

Even on the nights when they stayed in the same place, JC inevitably ended up crashing on the couch.

JC ended things after they won the lawsuit. It just seemed like the timing was right. They were about to blow up, he could feel it, and he didn’t to risk people seeing them, didn’t want anyone to know. Fresh start, after the lawsuit, he thought. Time for a clean slate.

“Look, Joey,” JC had said, eyes downcast. “It’s not that I don’t love you, because I do. I do, Joey. It’s just…”

Joey held up a hand and sighed. “Stop, okay? I know, C. I’ve heard it all before. This has been a long time coming.”

JC looked at his hands. “We’re going to be okay, right?”

Joey nodded. “Yeah, of course. It’s not like things are going to change much, anyway. We haven’t really been together in a long time.”

JC jerked his head up sharply at that, but Joey was already gone.

JC couldn’t figure out why exactly he was so melancholy, when it was over. Because Joey was right – by the time JC had said anything they’d already moved so far apart it was like they weren’t together at all.. They interacted, there was no animosity, but there was a wall there. Some barrier Joey had thrown up that JC couldn’t get past anymore. Something that had never existed before.

He tried to explain himself to Chris one day, even though no one has asked what had happened, really. JC didn’t know if it was that they didn’t care or they just weren’t surprised.

Chris had listened to him prattle for a few minutes, then cut him off. “JC,” he said, looking at him with thinly-veiled pity, “where the fuck are you going to hide from the inside of your head? It’s always there, you know.”

“Fuck off,” JC said.

“Yeah,” Chris answered, shaking his head. “You’re good at that, huh?”

So they went on with their lives. Moved forward.

Joey became quite the player, taking to the party life like a duck to water, a new lady following him to his room every night. JC adapted to the role of the tortured artist, spending more and more time on his own, bringing home the occasional guy but for the most part keeping to himself

It pretty much sucked.

It’s hard to say I’m sorry
It’s hard to make the things I did undone
A lesson I’ve learned too well for sure
So don’t hang up the phone now I’m trying to figure out just what to do
I’m going crazy without you

~..~

Everything pretty much sucked, and JC missed Joey like hell.

It took a long time for them to find their rhythm again, the two of them. Joey couldn’t stay mad to save his life, though, and he showed his love for all of them physically, so it wasn’t long before he was hugging JC again, running affectionate fingers through his hair.

It wasn’t the same, though, not at all, and JC found himself struggling to get used to the ache in his chest that flared into pain whenever Joey turned his way.

He missed sex with Joey, yes, but mostly he missed the intimacy they had, the way they could look at each other across a room and know what each other was thinking. Casual touches to everyone else, that in reality meant much more.

Joey spent most of his time with Lance now, it seemed, the two of them chuckling over inside jokes, their heads bent together over this script or that one, discussing roles and Hollywood and their acting dreams. JC’d been relegated to outsider status.

He never felt it more keenly, though, than when Joey had called the group meeting to tell them Kelly was pregnant.

It wasn’t that he was with Kelly that hurt, or that this pregnancy was some sort of betrayal, because they hadn’t been together in ages. It was that Lance had been literally bouncing up and down when they’d arrived.

Lance had known ahead of time.

JC had shown up at Joey’s house a few days later, sheepishly pressing a somewhat tattered edition of Dr. Spock’s Baby and Child Care into Joey’s hands.

“I, uh. Had to read it for Human Development in high school. I’m sure you have all kinds of these books already, but it was interesting, and yeah. I thought maybe you’d like it.”

Joey grinned at him, pulling him into a hug. “This is awesome, man. Thanks.”

Things were going really exceptionally well, the conversation light and easy and comfortable between them, when Joey slipped a bombshell in between his raves about the new Bon Jovi cd. “Lance is going to be the godfather,” he’d said, and JC felt that awful pulling sensation in his chest again.

“Great,” he’d stammered, plastering a smile on his face. “That’s great, Joey. Great.”

He hadn’t stayed much longer after that. He had been relegated, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

“I miss him,” he’d said to Chris, the two of them sprawled on Chris’s back deck, working on their third pitcher of margaritas.

Chris nodded sagely.

“I don’t think I ever told him,” JC said. “Like. I loved him. I love him. I never stopped loving him. He’s always been my thing, you know? My rock.” He waved his hand about randomly. “And I walked away, and he just let me.”

Chris nodded again.

“Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to sit there and nod?”

Chris squinted at him. “These margaritas could have used a little more tequila.”

JC blinked.

“Look, man, you pretty much just figured out what your problem is. It takes more than adoring smiles to make a relationship work. Joey is many things, but he’s definitely not psychic. You want him back,” he looked at JC levelly, “then you have to tell him.”

“Too late,” JC said.

“You don’t know that,” Chris said. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

JC stared.

“Or, you know, the way he can’t keep his hands off you, like, ever?”

“Um,” JC said.

“Not that I pay any attention.” Chris drank his margarita. “Definitely needs more tequila.”

you’re all I ever wanted
you’re all I ever needed
so tell me what to do now
when I want you back

~..~

It was Joey who’d asked JC to produce “Ready to Fall” for him. JC had been surprised, to say the least.

They’d holed themselves up in the studio for a couple days, pretty much just the two of them, and JC could almost forget that anything awkward or uncomfortable had ever passed between them.

It struck him, then, how much he’d missed the camaraderie between them, the easy way they moved around each other.

“I missed this,” he said, between takes. “Let’s try that again.”

“Um, C?” Joey looked at him.

“From the top, Joe. Let’s start over.”

Joey had looked at him for a long time, then stepped back up to the mic.

When they’d finished, they’d wandered out into the parking lot, climbing into the bed of Joey’s truck and watching the night sky.

Joey was talking about something but JC wasn’t paying attention. He watched the lines of Joey’s mouth, the way they moved, and said, “I love you, Joe. I always have and I don’t think I ever told you and that was really a pretty stupid mistake.”

Joey stopped talking, opening and closing his mouth.

“I didn’t want people to see, I guess. Or maybe it was that I didn’t want to need you. I thought it would be better. For us. For the group. Mostly I was just stupid and scared. But there’s never been anyone or anything else in my life, besides the music, maybe, that’s made me as happy as you. So I just wanted you to know that.”

“Okay,” Joey said.

“And I’d sort of like to try again, maybe. I mean, I know that’s a lot to ask and I don’t expect you to be all over that, and I know I probably blew it and…”

“Okay,” Joey said.

“Okay?” JC paused midstream, looking confused.

“Sure,” Joey said, leaning back and putting an arm around him.

And it was okay. It was easy and natural and not at all what it was supposed to be, but JC found that things like that only happened when he was around Joey. He made everything easy.