Everyday
by Sandy Keene

Justin sent Lance a postcard with an elephant on the front, red-orange trunk upturned. There was a small bird in the corner next to the word "musical". He wrote nothing on the back but "I know you want me, too. It's in your eyes, they say you do." That's how it started.

He still sends postcards, five years later, now just when he's on tour and Lance is home. Lance flips through the mail and there's another today, like yesterday, like Lance expected. Same song as the very first one, different lyrics this time. "It's plain to see that our love was meant to be."

Lance is playing with postcard, sharp edge poking into his palm when the phone rings. It's JC, and Lance isn't surprised about that either.

"I was looking through these boxes," JC says, "boxes from the, uh, the other house." The other house is JC's codeword for Chris's house. Five years for Lance and Justin, six for Chris and JC. Except it's six and over now for Chris and JC. Like it's ten all told and over for Joey and Kelly now. Lance wonders why everyone's relationships are falling apart right now, and then he thinks everyone else's. He has a postcard, he's okay.

JC is still talking about boxes. He found t-shirts he hadn't worn in years, and boots, too. Chris was apparently very thorough. "This one shirt, I think, man, I think it's yours."

"I'm sure I just left it there, JC, it's not like, you know. It's not because I slept with one of you, okay?" Lance sits down at the kitchen table, thinks about dinner. He decides against it.

"I know," JC says quietly. "I know. I just thought I'd tell you where it is. I can bring it by tomorrow."

"It's a t-shirt, right? Yellow?" Lance uses a magnet from Domino's to pin the postcard to the refrigerator. Right next to yesterday's postcard and below the menu from the Chinese restaurant thirteen blocks away.

JC says, "Yeah, it's just -- I can tell it's yours because I remember you wearing it in rehearsals. Like, years ago. It's your t-shirt."

"It's a t-shirt, JC, I don't. It's not that important. I've lived without it this long." Lance sighs.

JC sighs. "I thought you might miss it or something."

"Do you want me to come get it? Do you want to come over?"

"I just wanted to make sure you knew I had it, in case you were looking for it." JC's voice is scratchy like he's done nothing for the past couple of weeks but smoke. Lance thinks that's probably exactly what he's done.

Lance looks at the postcards on the refrigerator and thinks of the ones in the box under his bed. He wants to hang up immediately and read all of them in order, even though he knows what they say. Thanks to Justin, "I'll Be Good For You" is the only song of theirs that Lance knows all the way through. "I was thinking about going out later, nothing fancy, just for coffee or something. We could go to that place you like."

"I don't like that place anymore." JC says it softly. "Chris, you know, we went there together."

If anyone else in the world had said it, Lance would have dismissed them as melodramatic. But it's JC and he's just being honest. Lance sighs again. "Thanks for telling me about the shirt."

Lance goes upstairs and sits on the bed. He counts and the phone rings again after fifteen minutes. Joey or Justin, he thinks, and prays for Justin. It's Joey.

"She's not even trying to take any money, man. She doesn't even want alimony. What's up with that?" Joey sounds tired, he always sounds tired.

"Sounds like she's the same Kelly she's always been. She's not, you know." Lance crosses his legs, and turns on the TV. VH1 and some stupid Behind the Music. Lance doesn't change the channel. He says, "Why are you upset?"

"She says the child support'll be enough. And she's got her job and she doesn't want, you know. Like she gets the house and I make the payments and the taxes and she'll be fine. She says she'll be completely fine without me." Joey tries to laugh.

"She'll be miserable," Lance says. "Like you are now. And it's only a slightly different version of being miserable than when you were together. Except this one will get better, I guess."

Joey sighs and sniffles and then he hangs up. Lance lies back on the bed and he's fallen asleep when Justin finally calls.

Lance scrambles for the phone. Justin says, "Dude, you fell asleep? It's so early."

Lance smiles. "Well, you know, everyone's fucking bringing me down."

"God, yes. Chris talked me to two hours before the show. I almost changed the whole setlist to, you know, uh, Cure songs and Morrissey and Lou Reed. Welcome to the show, I will now perform all of Berlin for you because my fucking best friend has convinced me to slit my wrists afterwards." Justin laughs.

"How is Chris?" Lance pulls off his pants with one hand starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"Fucking miserable. Two seconds of talking about JC and then he launches into this long thing about, I dunno, politics or something. Except it's still about JC and him being fucking miserable. But we're not talking about JC so I can't say anything." Justin sighs. "And, hey, can we talk about this some more? Can we spend the whole night talking about how everyone we know is miserable and all their relationships have fallen apart?"

Lance says, "I'm nearly naked, you know."

Justin laughs. Things are good, Lance thinks. Justin says, "I got something good for you right here, baby."

It's not like this is their routine, would-be phone sex after Justin's called when Lance is asleep, but it happens whenever they're away from each other for more than five days.

"Do you remember me wearing a yellow shirt?"

Justin chuckles. "We're talking fashion now? You gonna expand your empire like Chris?"

"No, it's just -- JC found a shirt, a yellow shirt, some old shirt of mine, he says. I was just wondering, do you remember me wearing a yellow shirt?"

"I remember more when you aren't wearing things."

"I'm tired." Lance pulls another pillow behind his head.

"Shit, you going soft on me?" Justin snorts. "Uh, no pun intended."

"JC and Joey have me playing Dr. Ruth at all times over here, man. No rest for the weary, you know?"

"Sleep!" There's noise in the background and Justin says, "Just a minute, Johnny," and then, "I'll talk to you later."

Lance yawns. "Oh, fuck, I forgot to ask: how was your show?"

Justin launches into a whole thing about how he finally did that duet with the opening act and it turned out great and can Lance get away day after tomorrow to come to Salt Lake City because they're doing the song again and Justin would love to see Lance. Lance says, "I'd love to see you, too."

"I ain't gonna take my love away," Justin says.

"I'm not saying the rest of the line." Lance laughs. "But I love you, too." He hangs up and sleeps straight through until the morning, when the phone rings and it's JC.

"Once, he gave me a book and drew a likeness of himself on one page so I couldn't read the whole story. I've been looking but I can't find it. Why do you think he kept it?"

Lance rolls over in bed. "Jesus, JC."

"If I call and ask, do you think he'll give it to me?"

"I'm sure he has a reason for keeping it."

"Yeah." JC sighs. "He must have a reason."

JC chooses a Thai restaurant that just opened a few weeks ago. He says, "This is good peanut sauce."

Lance nods and plays with his chopsticks. Two hours ago, he was on the phone with Joey again, this time talking about some article Joey read at his lawyer's office, some thing about women's soccer players. Probably only the third time Joey had ever read an issue of Sports Illustrated that wasn't the swimsuit issue. Lance ended up reciting the old Reebok commercial with the little girls saying, "If you let me play sports." Joey decided he'd encourage Brianna to play soccer because gymnastics seemed like the kind of sport that wore on self-esteem and instead of building it up.

Lance starts to tell JC about the whole call and then JC says "oh" very quietly.

Lance looks up, braces himself to see Chris and Lance doesn't have anything against Chris, but it would be awkward suddenly. Like JC and Chris divvied up their friends when they split and JC got Lance and Chris got Justin. It's not Chris, though, it's just a pretty Asian girl walking in, laughing. Lance says, "What?"

JC looks down. "It's just, you know, I remembered. Your shirt. When we had that party by the pool and everyone came over. Chris pushed you in the pool and you left your shirt for us to clean." JC eats a little of his noodles. "I should've brought it with me."

"I'll drive you home. We can get it then." It is good peanut sauce.

JC's new house is large and empty. He's unpacked everything Chris sent over, the empty boxes are all in the garage, waiting to be recycled. But everything is in piles in the living room. "You need furniture, man," Lance says.

"I know," JC says. He sits on the floor and grabs a yellow shirt from a pile of clothes. He throws it at Lance. "There's your shirt and now I will shut up about it."

"It's okay, I get it." Lance doesn't want to think about what he'd be like if he and Justin broke up. He refuses to.

"I need to," JC says and pauses. "It just, you know, it's hard. It's over, you know?"

Lance gets home and puts on music. He's already made the arrangements to be in Salt Lake City, or he'd do that. He has work, he could do that. He waits for the phone to ring and sure enough, it does.

It's Chris.

"J's phone isn't working," he says, without any greeting.

Lance says, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I need to talk to him."

"Chris, I don't know what to tell you, then." Lance looks at the postcards on his refrigerator. He got another one today, it was waiting in the mailbox when he got back from lunch. There's a smiling cactus on the front and it says "wish you were here" along the bottom. On the back, Justin scribbled, "I just wrote this song to tell you my heart." He goes to the kitchen and takes it off the fridge.

"I just -- you saw JC." It's not really an accusation, but it's stronger than a simple statement.

"What the fuck? Were you hiding behind the giant Buddha in the lobby?"

"Doesn't matter." Chris snarls, but he sounds tired. "Is -- how is he?"

Lance thinks that if they were in a movie, he'd have JC on the other line asking how Chris is and the screen would be divided into three sections with Lance in the middle. Like "Bye Bye Birdie" but not really like "Bye Bye Birdie" at all. "He sucks."

Chris hangs up without saying goodbye either.

Salt Lake City has the widest streets Lance has ever seen. He remembers Chris telling him once that they made the streets that way so horse drawn carriages could turn all the way around or something. Lance remembers the air from the Olympics, and he worries about Justin's singing. It's nicer than his usual worries.

Justin kisses Lance as soon as they're alone, which happens to be a bathroom in the venue. "Missed you, missed you," he mumbles against Lance's lips.

"God, me, too," Lance says. He opens Justin's jeans and his hand is around Justin's dick. Already hard and he just holds on because it's been too long. "I love your dick, man." They both start laughing.

Justin tugs at Lance's jeans and says, "You first."

Justin sinks to his knees and Lance pulls him up. "Dude, your throat. You gotta sing and the air up here." Lance pushes Justin against the wall. "Fuck me."

Justin grins and hums Up Against The Wall while he pulls Lance to him and turns Lance against the wall. Lance says, "That should've been our song, man." Then there's cold air on Lance's ass, followed by Justin's warm hand, and sticky fingers. "You're such a boy scout," Lance says, before Justin's first finger pushes in. He's panting and the wall is cool against his face. He's grateful.

Justin says, "Ready?"

Lance grunts yes. Five years of this, and Lance thinks, five more, please. Five after that and five more until forever. Meant to be, he thinks.

They clean up quickly and then Lance gets to look unobtrusive during the show. Justin shines, like he always does. Lance wonders if he can hide out on Justin's tour until Joey is legally divorced and JC and Chris are over each other. He doesn't think Justin will be touring long enough, but it's worth a try.

He's sitting on Justin's bed when Chris calls. Justin rolls his eyes and then sits behind Lance, resting his head against Lance's back. "Yeah, uh huh." Justin is tracing words on Lance's bare back and it's hot. Lance reaches back and tugs at Justin's legs until he feels Justin's dick against his ass. Justin kisses his neck, says, "Chris, I know it sucks. But y'all broke up for a reason, man. Right?"

Lance pushes back and rocks a little. Justin is hard now, and Lance shimmies out of his underwear, making sure to brush up against Justin over and over again. Lance can hear Justin bite back a groan as he tells Chris "it'll get better."

Lance whispers, "Come on, let's fuck."

Justin flicks his fingers against Lance's neck. "Chris, I feel for you. I do. But, Lance is here. Man, I haven't seen him in, like, weeks." Justin is quiet for a moment. "Yes, we already fucked at the venue, but there's more to us than fucking. We might even talk after."

Justin clicks the phone closed and throws it across the room. "He says we should have fun while we still can, before everything falls apart." Justin sighs. "He was mostly kidding, I think. And now, now you are naked and apparently really willing and I'm still wearing my pants. What's up with that?"

Lance ends up on his back, Justin pushing down onto him. Lance clings to Justin's thighs, and says, "Ride it, right? There's another one that could have been our song." Justin's laughing when he comes.

"I think," Justin says, "we have a perfectly good song. I mean, okay, I wrote it, but."

"Well, you chose it. So I agree it's perfectly good." Lance grins and rolls over, makes sure his phone is off. Then he feels bad and turns back it on.

"Well, yeah, I chose it. It was a sweeping romantic gesture when we were just, you know, dancing around each other." Justin props himself up on his elbows.

"It was wonderful and it worked. Just, you know, very you to choose a song you wrote." Lance grins and Justin doesn't.

"Very me?"

"Justin, it's late, I'm tired and we're not really gonna fight about this, are we?" Lance sits up.

"You think I'm self-centered?" Justin sighs and sinks back on the bed.

"Justin." Lance gets out of the bed and goes to the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and washes his face and counts to ten. He walks back into the bedroom and Justin is already under the covers, turned on his side. Lance says, "Justin, baby."

Justin doesn't move. He says, "Look, we're both tired. I don't wanna fight. This is, uh, this is our night minus everyone else's fighting and shit. Okay?"

Lance gets in bed and spoons against Justin. "I love you."

Justin covers Lance's hand with his own. "I love you, too," but he sounds sad.

Justin's in the shower when Lance wakes up, so he writes "there's nothing I won't do to make you see that this is where you should be" on the hotel stationary and puts it on Justin's pillow and then orders breakfast. He's waiting for it to come when his phone rings.

Lance almost doesn't answer it because he knows it's JC. But he does answer it, because he feels bad. "Because you're a fucking idiot," he says softly to himself, and then, "Hey, C."

"Chris brought the book over."

Lance swallows a sigh. "I'm here with Justin, you know? We don't have a lot of time --"

"He's still here." JC's voice is like sunshine. "I mean, not right this second, he went to get bread and juice and things, but he's coming back."

Justin comes out of the bathroom naked. He rolls his eyes when he sees Lance is on the phone, but then he picks up the paper off his pillow and smiles. He crawls over the bed and kisses the back of Lance's neck. His skin is still damp and he smells like shampoo and soap. "You guys are back together?"

Justin mumbles, "If I had room, I'd do a fucking backflip in here."

"Tell Justin to fuck off," JC says, but he laughs. He's happy, he sounds happy for the first time in forever.

Chris calls Justin from the grocery store and Justin talks to him while he dresses. Lance commits to helping JC move back when he gets home and Justin laughs and says, "And I'll be in Seattle, HA-ha!" like Nelson on the Simpsons.

When Lance gets out of the shower, Justin is sitting on the bathroom counter. He says, "Do you want a new song? We can do that, seriously. I wasn't, you know, I wasn't even thinking about you when I wrote it, 'cause I wasn't thinking about you that way back then."

Lance dries off and kisses Justin's cheek. He puts his towel over Justin's head and laughs. "It's fine. It's totally fine. It's ours now." Lance walks back to his bag and starts dressing. "Who were you thinking of when you wrote it?"

Justin giggles. "Nobody. I was just writing, man, looking for words that rhymed. And you know, chicks dig songs that say you'll be good to 'em. It's not, you know, my most, uh, sophisticated effort."

Lance grins. "I like it."

Justin pulls him close and says, "It's ours now, and I mean it all. I mean it now. Even when everything else is crap, man, I do, too, love you more every day."

Lance says, "Good, because, you know, me, too. And I promise, if we ever break up, I'm gonna keep half your stuff so you have to keep coming back to me. Until you stay."