Emily (startfresh) wrote in gammaslash,

The Things You Never Knew You Never Knew - Chris/Lance

Written for Secret Santa 2004.

The Things You Never Knew You Never Knew

It starts on a Thursday, while Chris is sitting on his couch, watching Judge Judy, eating left over pizza and counting. He's counting days - 900 days of hiatus, 12 days since he talked to Justin, 5 days since he ordered this pizza, 2 days since he showered . . . 74 days since he last had sex.


Well, maybe it has something to do with eating old pizza and not showering, he muses. I've got to get out of this house.

Lance is in town, he knows. Mr. Busybody has meetings with everyone and their dog about that new movie. Lance picks up the phone after two rings and Chris tells it like it is.

"I need to get laid, man."


Chris is already showered and dressed by the time Lance arrives. He has put on his jeans without holes and the black button-down shirt that hides the belly he's sprouted since he stopped dancing every day. His beard is trimmed and he threw out the old pizza. He even smells good.

Lance lets himself in the front door and finds Chris in the kitchen, mixing Jack and Coke. "I thought we could have a little something, before we go out," he says, handing Lance a glass.

"Thanks." Lance takes the glass and sets it on the counter, using both arms to wrap Chris in a hug. "So . . . what have you been up to?" he asks, glancing around the kitchen and raising his eyebrows.

Chris doesn't think it looks so bad. There are dirty dishes in the sink, but at least they're stacked nicely. Okay, well, a few half-empty glasses are spilling over onto the counter, but that can't be helped. You can only fit so many of those in the sink.

"I've been busy, you know. I'm writing some stuff."

"Oh yeah, how's your CD coming?" Lance grabs his Jack and Coke and downs half of it in one gulp.

"It's . . . coming," Chris says, sipping from his glass. "How are your meetings going?"

Chris barely hears Lance as he rambles about meeting with different actresses to play his love interest and trying to find a studio to finance his next masterpiece. He finds himself staring at Lance's Adam's apple as he talks. It has always fascinated Chris how large it is and how much it moves around when Lance talks.

Pez, Chris thinks and reaches out to touch Lance's throat.

"What are you doing?" Lance asks and his voice is not harsh, just curious.

Chris wakes from his daze, with his hand on Lance's throat.

"Nothing," he replies and turns around to dump the rest of his drink into the sink, leaving the glass on the edge of the counter. "You ready to go?"

Lance finishes his drink in one swallow and they're out the door.


It has always amazed Chris how well Lance moves on the floor of a nightclub. He can't get choreographed steps down to save his life, but his body moves so gracefully when he's out on the dance floor with a guy . . . or a girl. Lance is equally attracted to both sexes when he's drunk and under a strobe light. Surprisingly, Chris finds himself very attracted to Lance when he's drunk and under a strobe light.

Lance's body has become so much stronger over the last couple of years. His arms are tan and muscular under the short sleeves of his yellow t-shirt. His waist is perfect and his jeans hang just right. That’s where the blonde puts her hands.

Chris shakes himself out of his daze. He can't believe it. Even mostly gay Lance has found a girl. Chris makes his way through the bodies on the dance floor and grabs Lance's arm.

"Hey, I'm gonna head home."

Lance beams and looks around. Chris knows he's searching for Chris' chosen female, but there isn't one to be found.

Chris shakes his head. "Nope, just me."

"Wait then. We'll come with you."

"No, it's okay . . ." Chris lets his voice trail off, because Lance is already whispering in the blonde's ear. She follows him off the dance floor.

"Swell," Chris sighs to himself.

As they step out of the club, Lance hands Chris the valet card. "I can't drive," he says, tripping over nothing, as if to prove his point. "See?" Lance and the girl laugh.

The ride home is even less fun than Chris predicted. Chris turns the radio up loud to drown out the slurping sounds of Lance and the blonde making out in the back seat.

As soon as the car stops in Chris' driveway, Lance's door opens and he falls out of the car with his girl in tow.

"You guys can stay in the downstairs bedroom," Chris emphasizes, unlocking the front door. He lets Lance and the blonde in first and is surprised when she grabs Chris’ hand, pulling him after them and obviously heading for that bedroom.

For a few moments after they all hit the bed, Chris isn't really sure what's happening. He barely had a chance to shut the front door and now he's in a haze of soft flesh and flying clothing, some of it his own.

Then someone is kissing him and Chris' eyes open to see Lance's green ones staring back at him.

Chris scoots away from Lance and nearly falls off the edge of the bed. He's breathing hard and it's difficult to think. His mind is telling him that he shouldn't be doing this. But there's a stiffness inside his boxers that says otherwise.

Someone's hands are rubbing down the sides of his stomach and they're too soft to be Lance's. Chris looks down to see the blonde working to get those boxers off. He lifts his hips to help her out and Lance reaches over her, handing Chris a condom.

The girl lays back on the bed, taking Chris' face in her soft hands and kissing him. Wrapped up in the moment, Chris slips the condom onto his cock and moves so that he's inside her.

Chris hears a groan and looks up to see Lance on his knees next to the girl. His head is thrown back, the muscles in his stomach distinct as she strokes his cock with her left hand.

Chris' orgasm takes him by surprise. He watches Lance as he comes, his muscles clenching, nearly doubling him over in pleasure.

Lance coming immediately after is the last thing Chris remembers before falling asleep that night.


Chris has to pee when he wakes up, but he's a little confused. How did he end up in one of the guest bedrooms? He turns on his side and finds Lance sleeping next to him, his bare chest rising and falling evenly, the rest of him covered by the thin, white sheet.

"Way to go, Kirkpatrick," he mutters to himself. Chris hauls himself out of bed and into the adjoining bathroom.

He probably should have closed the bathroom door, he thinks, only after he hears Lance's deep voice mumble, "good morning."

Chris takes his gaze away from the task at hand to see Lance standing naked with his left shoulder against the doorjamb, his half-hard cock very obvious between his legs.

"Morning," Chris coughs, turning his back to Lance and finishing up as quickly as possible.

"Interesting night, huh?" Lance laughs.

"Sure was," Chris says, keeping his back to Lance as he flushes the toilet and washes his hands.

"I'd better take a shower," Lance says. "I have a meeting in an hour.”

"I'll leave you to it, then." Chris ducks under Lance's arm and out of the bathroom.

Chris busies himself gathering up various items of clothing that are strewn about the bedroom. He puts them in the washer along with the sheets from the bed.

Chris is on his second cup of coffee and pretending to do the crossword puzzle when Lance joins him in the kitchen.

"Petrified," Lance says.


"27-down. A ten letter word for timorous." Lance leans over Chris' shoulder to point at the paper.

"Right," Chris says, filling it in with a shaky hand. Lance's cologne smells good. "You want some coffee?"

"Nah. I've gotta go. I can come back after the meeting, though. If you want?”

"Yeah, okay," Chris says, and he's definitely not staring at Lance's ass as Lance grabs a banana and leaves the kitchen. But it does look good in those khaki slacks.


Chris has never done as much cleaning in his life as he does that day. He starts in the kitchen, loading his sinkful of dishes into the dishwasher.

All the while, his mind races. What the hell happened last night? Well, he knows what happened. He was drunk, he was horny, there was that girl . . . Who was she? What was her name? There was a girl, right? Right?

Being in a boyband, people have always thought he was gay, even his own mother. Of course, he didn't have a girlfriend until he was 27. He'd even introduced Dani to his mom by saying, "now do you believe I'm not gay?"

And he wasn't. He knew he preferred girls. Although he had always lusted after Justin a little. But who hadn't? If you didn't find that boy attractive then you just weren't human.

But Lance? Lance was gay . . . he could actually like Chris back. Wait! What was he thinking? Chris couldn't think about Lance that way. He didn't.

Chris is exhausted both mentally and physically by the time he flops onto the couch to watch TV. Ah, his favorite - Judge Judy. Good old reliable Judy. She'd have something that would take his mind off of Lance.

Oh good, Chris thinks. Roommates fighting over their belongings. Perfectly harmless.

Mark, the plaintiff, begins to list the items that Bill stole from him when he moved out. All of a sudden, Bills blurts out, "You stole my umbrella and my heart!"

"So, Mr. Evans, you were more than just roommates?" Judy asks.

Chris rolls his eyes and changes the channel. Jerry Springer should work. Chris can watch some macho dudes beating each other up. The subject of the day flashes across the screen: "Cheating Husbands - My Man Ran off With Another Man."

Okay, Chris thinks, maybe this isn't a good time to watch TV.

He sits there for at least five minutes, just holding the remote and staring at the blank screen. Finally, he picks up the phone and dials Joey.

"Chris!" Joey answers. "What's goin' on?"

"I wanted to ask you something," Chris says. Better to get straight to the point with Joey.


"So, you've had threesomes with Lance before . . ." Chris starts.

"Yeah," Joey prompts.

"Did you ever, you know, do stuff with Lance?"

"What kind of stuff?" Joey asks.

"Like, make out with him and stuff."

"No," Joey says. "Why?"

"Um, no reason," Chris says. "So how's married life?"

Normally, Joey wouldn’t have let a question like that slide, but he is always willing to change the subject to the women in his life. They talk about Joey's family for a while until Joey has to go make lunch for Briahna.

JC is next. Chris is a little more delicate with JC, since JC and Lance had a little fling back in Germany. It's been over eight years and all of the guys know about it, but JC is still a little sensitive.

Chris finally asks him, "What did you see in Lance?"

That was the wrong question. JC knows how to ramble. He describes his whole relationship with Lance, going on and on for over a half hour before Chris finally stops him.

"Hey, I have to go fold some laundry." The funny part is, he isn't lying. "I'll talk to you later, okay? Thanks for your help."

"No problem," JC says. And that's the cool thing about JC. He doesn't mind being interrupted. He'll be on to something else before Chris hangs up the phone. "Take it easy, man."

Two down and not much help. This is the call he's been dreading. Justin is his best friend, but also the most judgmental of all the guys. Sometimes the truth is best, Chris reminds himself, no matter how painful.

Justin doesn't answer the first two times Chris calls, but picks up on the first ring of the third. "Do you need something?" he asks, with mock annoyance.

"I slept with Lance," Chris blurts out.

"Way to go!" Justin hoots.


"You know you've always been hot for him."

"I have?" Chris feels sick.

"Don't play dumb, I've seen the way you guys look at each other. Joey and I even had a bet on how long it would take you to get together. Heh, I won."

"Uh, congratulations?" Chris says.

"So, good going. Lance is a good catch. Plus, he's hot, right?" Justin asks.

"Well, yeah."

"Okay, then, what are you worried about?"

"I don't know," Chris says

“Exactly,” Justin replies and hangs up.

Chris’ mouth is dry and he can’t remember how to blink. There's no time to think about what Justin said, though, because Chris hears the front door close and Lance walks into the living room.

"Are you okay?" Lance asks, sitting on the couch next to Chris. "You look like you might barf.”

Chris nods, slowly. "I might.” He pauses and swallows. “Last night," he says, "there was a girl, right?"


"Who was she? What was her name?”

"She was some actress. Looking for a part, you know. I called her a cab after you fell asleep. Her name was . . . Kari? Kristin? No. Kendra, maybe? Something like that. Did you have fun with her? I told you I’d get you laid." Lance winks at Chris.

"Yeah, she was was okay. But I think . . . I think I had more fun with you.” Chris turns his head toward Lance and stares at his pink lips. “Did you know that I've always liked you?"

"Yes," Lance says. Lance leans toward Chris and those lips meet Chris’ and open to allow for his tongue. Chris explores Lance's mouth, his teeth, his tongue. He feels himself getting hard inside his pants.

Lance suddenly pulls away. "Kennedy. That was her name."

"Yeah, well, you kiss better than Kennedy." He pulls Lance to him for another kiss.

Lance grabs Chris' face and deepens the kiss.

And your hands are softer too, Chris thinks.

originally here
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