Lance knows that JC hates being in hotel rooms, trapped by their fans. Being trapped on their days off is the price they pay, but he can see that JC's reaching meltdown. It's a safe bet that when he's all folded up in an easy chair, legs tucked under him, arms gripping his knees, eyes closed and humming, he's not in a good place.

It's nobody's fault, really, but Justin's been yelling at Chris for an hour for grabbing on to his necklace and almost strangling him. Joey's wandering around taking pictures and singing show tunes, grinning happily. Every time the flash goes off, JC cringes a little and closes his eyes. Lance knows that he won't leave though, because Justin wanted them all there, and JC tries to never be rude.

Lance watches the havoc from the bed, his laptop open and papers stacked tidily around him. When he gestures to JC, it's worth the fact that he'll have to stay up late tonight, because JC's face lights up.

Lance stands, stretches. "Hey, C? Wanna come with?"

JC unfolds himself carefully, tentatively and his smile has faded to something merely lovely, no longer incandescent. Lance grabs his arm, and hauls him out of the room and JC laughes when they stumble. He feels the thin arm in his grasp relax, and JC's cocking his head.

"Where we going?"

"Does it matter? I mean, is there somewhere you want?" Lance hasn't thought past getting JC out of that room, and he doesn't feel like dealing with security guards that make them even more conspicuous. He laughs suddenly, and pulls JC into his room.

It's the work of a minute to jam a cap onto JC's head, and tie a bandanna around his hair. They both have their sunglasses, and Lance swivels them in front of the mirror to double check that they're not ridiculously dressed. JC's hard to disguise, because he loves bright colors and tight clothes.

JC nods at his grey t-shirt. "We're good." He's smiling tentatively at Lance. "Are we going out, man?"

Lance nods, working the logistics out in his head. He doesn't like being so logical and restrained, but he thinks that it's not a bad trait when his plan works, and they sneak past the crowds of people and away from their bodyguards.

JC twirls when they're walking down the street and Lance catches his breath at how beautiful he is in the sunlight. The sunglasses block JC's eyes, but Lance knows that they'd be squinted up in little laugh lines. He smiles back, glad to be out of the hotel room and in the sunshine.

"You okay, dude?"

JC nods, looking up at the sky while he walks and Lance looks upward, watching clouds drift across the sky. "Y'know what I want? It's like, probably insane, but do you think we could just get ice cream and find a park somewhere? Just sit on the grass or a bench or something?"

Lance thinks that it's sick that they could order champagne and filet mignon at any moment, but ice cream and a walk in the daylight reach the magnitude of an impossible dream. He doesn't say that though, just nods and pats JC on the arm.

Lance worries that they won't find an ice cream place, but they see a Baskin Robbins as they walk down the third block. JC breathes deep when they walk in and Lance remembers how much he loved the vanilla cinnamon sweet smell of the corner ice cream shop when he was a kid.

JC's walking along the freezer cases, pointing at the names, and Lance knows that he'd be reading some of the crazier flavours aloud if he weren't aware that they could be recognized at any moment.

Lance gets a Mocha Blast, the biggest size they have, whipped cream and chocolate drizzles and cocoa dust. JC takes longer, but he finally orders mint chocolate chip.

Lance cuffs him on the arm. "It's the same thing every time. Don't know why you even bother to look."

JC sticks his tongue out, specifying a cone when the girl asks.

Lance shakes his head. "Dude. Get a cup. You'll drip all down yourself, and make a mess." He knows that JC has a habit of getting distracted, losing track of his ice cream and not snapping out of it until he has a river melting down his wrist.

JC just laughs and reaches out for his cone. When his tongue flickers out to lick around the edges, Lance thinks that he should have insisted on the cup. The girl's looking a little interested, like she's about to realize who they are, so he grabs JC and hustles him out of the door, briefly wondering why it's his job to guide JC everywhere.

He figures they'll wander around for a little bit, maybe they won't even find a park or anything. Somehow he doesn't think JC will mind that much. Not when he's licking at his ice cream and making happy little pleased sounds in his throat.

They've been walking for a while, when they see an area, mostly playground, but there's grass and a couple benches and flowers. JC sees it first, and he points with his ice cream cone, startling both of them when his top scoop falls off onto the ground with a plop, barely missing his shoe.

Lance is grateful that the park is empty when they sit on the bench. He doesn't want screaming girls to ruin this, make the smile that touches the corner of JC's lips go away. JC licks at his cone, concentrating on not making a mess, making faces at Lance when drips inevitably land on his shirt and Lance has to hand over napkins because of course he's the only one that brought them.

It's not until they both finish their ice cream that Lance throws an arm around JC's shoulders, surprised by how fragile his shoulderblades feel under the thin t-shirt.

"You okay?"

JC whips his head around, and he's stretched out, not folded up, and Lance thinks that it's a good thing. "Just bein' stupid, wishing that we could do stuff like this more often."

Lance expects him to start talking, but instead he jumps up and starts swinging, looking unwieldly and awkward, like maybe he's just a little too big. He's laughing and his hat falls off when he starts pumping his legs, his hair blowing free.

It's a shock when he jumps free of the swings, landing several feet away, stumbling onto his knees. Lance grabs the hat and runs over to make sure he's okay, but JC's still laughing, and his sunglasses slip a little so that he can see that JC's tearing up from giggling so hard.

"You could've hurt yourself!" Lance can't help snapping just a little, but JC doesn't seem to care, grabbing onto Lance's shoulder to haul himself up.

"I used to be so good at that, man." JC stops laughing. "Guess we should be getting back, huh?"

Lance looks up at the sky and it's going to be twilight soon, and he sighs and puts the cap on JC's head again.

The walk home seems longer and darker. Lance doesn't think the shift is because it's approaching nighttime. They're two blocks from their hotel, JC's pointing at it, when they see the old man sitting on the sidewalk. He's got a guitar, the case open in front of him, and he's playing something jazzy and slow.

They stop, listen for a little while because JC obviously wants to; Lance knows that JC loves this kind of music, loves music of all kinds. He feels bad when he has to pull JC away again and he's surprised when JC throws twenty dollars into the guitar case.

JC just shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets, looking like he's not looking forward to going back. Lance understands his reluctance and pulls him close in a one armed hug, already plotting how to get them back inside.

~end~