Lance rumbles when you pet him. You've discussed this sound with the others and for a day or two he was like a warm sleepy cat indiscriminately arching under everyone's palm while they tested out your question. When everyone agreed it was a rumble, they stopped touching him. He looked like maybe he missed it for a few days until you felt comfortable touching him again.
That rumble, the way the muscles in his back slide under the white tank tops that you all wear, it's enough to make you trace your fingers along his shoulders and just feel. Sometimes you even remember to rub, feeling awkward and clumsy because you know he pays for massage sometimes.
Sometimes he coaxes, when he doesn't seem to realize that it's unnecessary, that you want to touch every smooth, soft, slick bit of his skin. You don't feel awkward anymore when he smiles at you, uncalculated and sweet, yanks his shirt over his head and sprawls out.
He rumbles and you shiver, when he twists his head around and asks, "C'mon, just five more minutes." Goosebumps pepper both of your bodies when you graze his shoulderblades in silent acquiescence.
3.
Lance hates telephones, and you think it's because he spends hours every day on his cell. Joey laughs about it sometimes, makes the bus drivers stop so he can switch over and actually have fun, but sometimes you think he cares more than he lets on. He looks at his bus with something like wistfulness, mumbles about Lance and business and doesn't meet your eyes when he goes to find Chris and play Mortal Kombat, the comfort food of video games.
You think Joey's stupid, those nights, because everyone knows that Lance talks late at night, you remember it from the early days when you all slept on one bus. You'd wait through the silent evenings for Lance's voice at bedtime, crushed velvet, warm and alive.
Lance calls you sometimes, when he finally clicks the laptop closed and realizes that he's all alone. You felt funny, the first time he called, like there was nothing interesting to say, but he was happy to talk, drawling out small details while you drowned in the husk of his voice and didn't bother with the meaning of the sounds.
You mentioned once when you were very sleepy, that he should consider doing voiceovers for phone porn, and your heart stuttered to a stop when you realized that you said it out loud. He'd just laughed though, and said "Dunno 'bout that, but maybe sometime I could sing." Then you didn't know whether you felt guiltier for your solos or for the fact that his growl of a laugh could make you hard.
4.
Lance's hotel rooms are always spotlessly clean except for occasional paper drifts, and you think that they always seem to smell inoffensive, unlike the others. Justin's room is like a locker room, muggy and stinking like what you imagine a frat house would smell like. Joey's is redolent of whatever expensive cologne he favours, heavy and sweet.
When you were waiting for him to be ready to go out, you notice that he seems to have run out of cologne, even though he still smells good. You peer around him, looking for the empty bottle, meeting his eyes in the mirror and pretending to laugh at his hair, just for the crinkle of his eyes and you sniff surreptiously.
The next day you're in the middle of a generic department store's cologne counter, baseball cap jammed down over your tucked up hair, trying to pretend that you enjoy shopping. You sample so many bottles that you can't even tell a difference anymore. The bodyguard isn't much help, and you finally just pick one that smells fresh and clean.
You know you're blushing a little when you hand the box to Lance, mumbling about how you noticed that he'd run out, and you couldn't find the one he usually wears that smells so good. He brushes away your apologies, face bright with surprise and simple pleasure, and says "I don't usually wear cologne." He wears your gift every day after that, and you sometimes you sniff him and hope he'll run out soon.
5.
Lance loves summer, loves strawberries and watermelon and blueberries and fresh, juicy tomatoes. You love summer, because you get to watch Lance's tongue when he licks away the traces of berry juice on the corner of his mouth and the look on his face when he crunches into a cucumber.
Justin laughs at Lance sometimes, when he insists on stopping at roadside stands in Georgia for peaches or tomatoes. You understand Justin's point that Lance is a rock star and could insist on seasonal fruit at any time, but Lance is right when he insists that local produce is better, and that even stuff is flown in from where it's local, it still tastes like plastic in February.
You like standing in the dust by the road, smelling sun warmed green peppers and pretending to test the ripeness of cantaloupes, even though they all sound alike when you tap them. Lance always laughs at you, pushing you away and selecting ripe ones. He hurries because the others are always impatient.
After one of Lance's binges, Joey lets you switch buses and eat with Lance. Sometimes Lance steams fresh sweet corn and you eat half a dozen ears with real butter and real salt and don't even feel guilty, until Lance reaches for the peaches. You're watching peach juice squirt all over his face as his eyes roll in ecstasy, actually staring, until he giggles and points to the basket. "These are so sweet." You reach for a peach and think that the juice on his skin would taste sweeter.
~end~