Six Steps To Being A Better Stand-up 4/6
Jan. 17th, 2008 03:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
randomlingThe fourth part of my SeSa, reposted for posterity or similar.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Summary: It's pretty hard to date a guy who thinks you're straight. Part 4 of 6.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF. There is sex in other installments.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dizmo.
Six Steps To Being A Better Stand-Up
Step Four: Chickenshit
December 11th
Tuesday nights, a bunch of them usually went out for beers and pool. It was Justin's fifth week at Travelstar, and it was the first time he'd seriously considered missing out: saying he had a date or was taking a class at the Y. Something. The problem was Chris was hardly talking to him, and hadn't been since the start of the week. Justin figured that Alecia had told him, after all, and ever since that had occurred to him – 2 o'clock that morning – he'd been in a state of semi-panic. Eventually Chris would tell the office and then Justin would lose his job.
But both Joey and Lance had asked him if he was coming, and both times he'd said, “Sure,” so here he was, beer in hand, playing pool with Nick while Chris talked to Lance and Joey in the corner. Alecia was at the jukebox, trying to persuade the limited selection in the pool hall to turn up something she liked.
Nick potted a ball and straightened up to scope out his next shot as Justin took a sip of his beer. “So I heard you and Alecia broke up,” he said conversationally.
“Yeah,” Justin said. “Well, no. We were never really...”
Nick nodded sagely. “Sucks.” He bent over for another shot, which meant Chris came into view behind him. Justin watched while he could. Chris was still talking, beer bottle in hand, and from the look on his face, he was bitching. Lance was looking calm, the kind of enforced calm he used on irate customers, and Joey put one hand on Chris's arm to reassure him. Chris brushed it off violently and caught sight of Justin watching him; Justin looked away sharply, focusing his attention on Nick's shot. Nick missed.
The next ten minutes were taken up with kicking Nick's ass. Justin was good at pool and didn't see any reason to hide it; Chris and Alecia could both give him a run for his money, but unless he was out of his mind on vodka, Nick was pretty easy to beat. When he was done, he took a hefty swig of his beer – courage – and walked over to Chris.
Chris glanced up at him, looking all kinds of surprised, and a little bit angry.
“Want to play a game?” Justin asked.
Chris looked at Lance, who gave him a reproving look, and then sighed. “Sure thing.”
Justin kept meaning to start a conversation, he really did, but every time he tried to say something, Chris was concentrating on his shot, or chalking his cue, or not even looking Justin's way, so the words just kept sticking in his throat. Apart from an occasional, “Your shot,” they played pretty much in silence. Justin wanted to say something, but short of coming right out and asking Chris if he had a problem with Justin being gay, he couldn't think of a way in. It was a good game, short and pretty even: Justin kept missing stupidly easy shots, but so did Chris, until they ended up with just the eight ball on the table.
Justin took his shot, slow and careful, and set the cue ball sailing across the table at just the wrong angle: it hit the black and bounced it off the cushion instead of right into the hole, leaving Chris with a stunningly easy shot. He bent over to bang his head on the table. “Oh, shit.”
Chris actually laughed, and Justin laughed too; it didn't quite feel like they were cool, but some of the tension was worked off. He looked at Chris, who smiled and batted his eyelashes at Justin. “Are you trying to make up with me?” he asked, walking to the table.
Alecia had told him, then. Justin looked Chris right in the eye, unamused. He was hurt, even. He'd really hoped that no matter what Chris thought, he wouldn't make fun. Clearly he'd been wrong. “Absolutely not,” he said, which was as close as he could come to civil, and turned to put away his cue.
Chris potted the eight ball and stalked away.
***
“Fucking Justin,” Chris spat. “Fucking little arrogant homophobic son of a bitch.”
Lance said, “Hey,” and Joey said, “Dude,” and one of them pushed him a fresh beer as he threw himself into an empty seat. Chris drank half of it in one swallow, head tipped back, and caught Lance's smirk as he put the beer back on the table.
“Some day you're gonna make a lucky guy real happy, you know that?” Lance said.
Chris raised one eyebrow. “You want me to deep-throat the bottle, Bass?”
Joey spat some of his own beer back into the bottle. “Hey, some of us are trying to be straight over here, man.”
Lance grinned at him sunnily, and Chris felt better enough from the beer to chuckle. He glanced over at the pool table – thank heaven for small mercies, Justin was gone. He turned back to Lance, who was looking at him with mother-hen eyes. He sighed. “I wasn't being a jerk. Seriously. I was just messing around, and he went all bitch-ass on me.”
“Uh huh,” said Lance, with a level of sympathy that Chris just knew was faked. Sure enough, Lance broke into a grin after just a second.
Chris turned back to his beer. “Oh, fuck you,” he said.
***
Justin took as long as he could carefully putting his cue away before going to look for Alecia. She was on the other side of the bar, perched on a table and chatting to Nick. “Hey,” she said brightly. “Nick says you kicked his butt. Again.”
Justin smiled weakly. “Can we talk?” He jerked his head towards the door.
“Sure,” she said, but she didn't move. He tried to stare her down, but she just stared him down right back. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Nicky.”
“It's cool,” said Nick, shrugging. He grabbed his drink and got up; as he walked off Justin gratefully took his seat.
“Okay. What?” asked Alecia dangerously.
“Chris knows,” Justin said flatly.
Alecia beamed. “Hey, that's awesome. Nice work.”
“I didn't tell him,” said Justin, looking at her accusingly. “Somebody else did.”
“Sure wasn't me,” said Alecia. She hopped off the table and sat down next to Justin. “Hey, I swear. I didn't say a thing. What happened? Did he say, 'so, you're gay, then', or what?”
“Nah,” said Justin. “Just... you know, he was Chris about it. Made fun.”
Alecia stood up. “Stay here,” she said. “I'll fix it.”
Before Justin had time to protest, she'd already gone boucing off towards Chris.
***
Lance and Joey had headed off for a game, leaving Chris alone with beer and his thoughts. Okay, no, it wasn't enough that Justin was straight, or that he was eighteen years old, or even that they worked together; he had to be a bigoted little son of a bitch, too. Chris always chose the best people to get a crush on.
It was bizarre, because surely Justin knew that half the guys in the office were gay. Maybe he was one of these guys that was totally fine with gay people until you made him notice that there were some nearby. That wouldn't be totally out of the question for a kid from Tennessee.
“Hey,” said Alecia, throwing herself into a seat beside him.
He smiled at her. “Hey, you. Having a good night?”
“Better than you or Justin, looks like,” she said. “Listen, give him a break, okay?”
“Any particular reason I should?” Chris asked, raising one eyebrow at her. “Because last I checked, he was being a total ass.”
“He's having a hard time right now,” said Alecia. “He's been in Florida, like, a month and a half, he never lived away from home before. You remember what that's like, right?”
Chris sighed. He remembered, all right. “Yeah,” he said. “It's just, you know. There's a whole bunch of stuff I could do without tonight, and Justin Timberlake bringing the Bible Belt to my door is definitely on the list.”
“Maybe he just doesn't get it?”
Chris smirked. “More likely, he just figured out I'm gay, and now he's trying to forget he ever talked to me about basketball.”
“Actually,” Alecia said, smiling, “I'm pretty sure he'd really love you to go over and talk to him.” She jerked her head towards the bar. Something leapt in Chris's chest and he looked at Alecia, surprised, then realized he must have read that totally upside-down. She'd made it sound for all the world like Justin was waiting over there for Chris to go make his move. Straight boy, he reminded himself.
Still, there was no point pretending he wasn't going to go. “Okay, fine,” he said, trying to make it sound like a chore, “I'll talk to him. When I've finished my beer.”
***
Justin ended up sitting at the bar, watching Lance and Joey play pool, not able to even look over towards where Alecia had joined Chris. Nick was sitting beside him, pretty drunk and telling Brian about how his girlfriend didn't get along with his roommate – or his roommate didn't get along with his girlfriend – whichever, it was a topic Justin had exactly no interest in. Still, it beat sitting alone, so he half-listened to their conversation, drinking a lot faster than he really should. After a few minutes the two of them took off, and Justin managed to say “G'night,” without slurring too much. Then he was just alone with his quarter-full bottle of beer, trying hard not to touch the sticky surface of the bar too much.
Pool night was usually a lot more fun. Then again, pool night usually involved a lot more goofing off with Chris.
Justin was just about to order another beer, thanking God for good fake ID, when Chris slid onto the bar stool beside him. “Okay,” he said without preamble, “I forgive you.” Justin turned, still registering that he was there at all, and Chris went on. “You're still a jackass, but I forgive you.”
Justin looked at him for a very long moment, trying through his drunken haze to figure out exactly what was going on. Chris didn't seem like he was about to punch him, though, and he felt too drunk to argue, so he said, “Yeah. Same here.”
Chris nodded and called the bartender over to order two beers. When they came, he slid one over to Justin. “You coming to the table?” he asked. “I think we're all too drunk for more pool.”
Justin nodded and blindly followed Chris to where Alecia, Joey and Lance were talking and drinking. He and Chris ended up next to each other again. The first thing Chris did when he sat down was crack a stupid joke, folding the rest of them up with laughter, and after that everything was okay.
It was almost midnight when Alecia said, out of the blue, “Okay, so I have a question.” The rest of them turned to her. “Who here has experience with the same sex?”
“Experience of what, hon?” Lance asked, waggling his eyebrows, and Alecia poked her tongue out at him.
“Is this like I Never?” said Joey. “We have to drink?”
“Nah,” she said. “Just say. Lance first.” Lance was on her right, and Justin on her left; everybody would have to say something before Justin did. Justin was a little grateful.
“Um, hello? Gay here. So that'd be a yes.”
“Anyone we know?” said Chris, and Lance gave him a look. “Apart from me, okay,” Chris said. Justin turned to look at Chris, and he knew his eyebrows were now somewhere in his hairline. Chris and Lance? Chris with guys?
“Uh, well,” Lance was saying. “JC. You know, a couple times.”
“Seriously?” said Alecia.
“Okay, game stops, new gossip in town,” said Joey.
“When?” Chris asked.
Lance smiled and blushed a little. “A couple weeks ago. And Sunday night. It's, um. It's nice. I have no idea where it's going, but...”
Joey smiled at Lance, genuinely. “Cool, man. JC's a nice guy, I hope it works out.”
“Yeah,” said Chris, picking up his beer. “Good for you.”
“It's not really a thing yet,” Lance protested. “It's a pre-thing. A proto-thing. Maybe.”
Alecia was smiling too. “Okay, moving on. Joey?”
Joey didn't look embarrassed to say, “With guys? Sure, a few times when I was a kid. But I'm with Kelly now.”
Alecia nodded. “Uh huh. Chris?”
Justin looked at Chris with interest, and Chris said, “Ah, I'm only straight when I'm drunk.”
They folded up with laughter again. Somewhere in the middle of trying to regain control of his diaphragm, Justin managed to say, “Man, you should say more of that stuff on stage.”
Chris gave him a smile of pure cynicism. “Wouldn't play,” he said. Justin let it lie, because he knew what was coming next.
Sure enough, Alecia turned on him. “What about you, Justin?”
Justin took a breath and tried, really tried, to mention the guy he'd made out with at graduation, but what actually came out was, “No, never,” and he didn't look up because he knew Alecia would be shooting daggers at him.
He knew he was right about the look on Alecia's face. It became obvious when Chris said, “Aw, c'mon, he can't help being the only straight guy at Travelstar.”
Lance giggled. “He's really straight? Damn, now I have to fire him.”
Justin laughed dutifully, a little bit too drunk to cope with the weird new world opening up in front of him. It wasn't just Lance; it was Chris too, and there was JC, and Joey, and apparently every other guy in the place. He got up unsteadily and put his half-empty beer down heavily on the table. Chris looked up at him sharply. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I just, uh.” That was about as far as he could get. He turned and managed, just about, not to run for the bathroom, where he shut himself in a cubicle and didn't throw up.
***
Alecia and Lance were waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, feeling a bit calmer, but no more sober despite all the cold water he'd splashed on his face. Alecia took his wrist and led him to a table out of sight of the others. When he was sitting, Lance thrust a glass of water into his hand. He took it, gratefully, and drank.
“You,” said Alecia when he put the glass down, “are a total chickenshit.”
He looked at her. She had her elbows on the table, head propped up on her folded hands. “I couldn't,” he said. “Even after... Is Chris really gay?”
Alecia and Lance looked at each other. Alecia grinned; Lance blinked. “You got a little crush, dontcha?”
“Oh, that explains a lot,” Lance said. He looked at Justin seriously. “Why didn't you just tell us? That you're gay, I mean, not your deepest fantasies about Chris. Those, I can live without.”
Justin smiled weakly. “I just. I don't know. I was starting to think I was just a big freak.”
“Well, you are,” said Alecia, “but that's got nothing to do with being gay.” Justin laughed at that. Then he carefully met Lance's eyes.
“You and Chris?”
“Oh, God. For like a week. Worst idea ever.” Lance grinned. “You're in no danger from me, man.”
Justin could relax a bit after that. While he finished his water, Lance and Alecia both insisted that he should talk to Chris. “Chris is a nice guy,” Lance kept saying earnestly, leaning forward. “Really, he's a great guy.” Justin, all of a sudden, sort of liked the idea of coming out to Chris. And of something maybe coming of that. After all, it was pretty hard to date a guy who thought you were straight.
Eventually, Justin put down the empty glass and said, “Thanks. I really oughta get home.”
“You feeling better?” Lance asked.
“Yeah.”
Alecia grabbed Justin's wrist again and pulled him to his feet. “Come say goodbye to Chris and Joey,” she said, and dragged him across the bar towards the table. He had to use most of his concentration to stay standing all the way there. Chris and Joey both looked up at him curiously.
“Are you okay?” said Joey.
“Yeah,” Justin said. “I'm good. I just really need to go home.” At that point he had to hold onto the back of Chris's chair to stay standing. “Whoa. I think I'm drunk.”
Chris got up, looking concerned. “Jesus, you're hammered,” he said. “You sure as hell better not be driving.”
“Nah,” said Justin. “Car's still fucked.”
“Really? Ouch,” Chris said. He grabbed Justin's arm to steady him. “C'mon, I'll help you get home in one piece. See you tomorrow, guys.”
***
Chris's place was on the way to Justin's, so Chris reluctantly agreed to let Justin walk home alone from his place. He still seemed a little too drunk for Chris's liking, but there was only so much adolescent whining a guy could take. By the time they turned onto Chris's block, the fresh air had cleared Chris's head a little.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” he asked, experimentally.
“Sure,” said Justin. Chris was pretty sure Justin had no idea what the topic of conversation was.
“About my routine,” he said. “You really think I should do more of that stuff?”
Justin looked at him and seemed a little more focused on the conversation. “Yeah. You're, like, naturally funny. You should use that.”
“Yeah, but...” He shrugged. “It's like, I'm not so sure that's gonna play so well to your average audience. You know what I mean?”
“It's funny,” Justin insisted. “It's, whaddayacallit. Subversive.”
Chris smiled. “I'm not sure they really want subversive at bar mitzvahs,” he said. “Plus, I start saying that kind of stuff, I become the gay comic. I mean, it's one thing being out at work, right? But if you're trying to get people to notice you.”
“Maybe it's important,” said Justin.
Chris smirked. “Maybe I'm not a public service,” he said.
“Yeah, but... It's not about that, is it? It's about being yourself. I mean, the thing is. In real life, you're funny, because you're you. You know, you're comfortable. But on stage, you're pretending to be this guy that you're not, like, you're pretending to be straight, right, and so maybe you're not as funny because you're not, you know, being you.” Chris blinked; for a drunk teenager, the kid might be making a bit of sense.
“So basically, you think if I was gayer on stage I'd be funnier?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Okay, maybe not so much with the sense. “I'm not exactly Elton John,” said Chris with a sigh.
“But it's important,” said Justin. “To be you. Yourself, I mean. To have people know who you are.”
Chris shrugged. “Your friends, I guess, it's important that they know who you are. Not so sure about my audience.”
When they reached Chris's building, they stopped outside the door, and Chris lingered a little. It was that time of the night again: Justin was drunk and wavering on his feet, and he wondered if Justin was going to ask to stay again. He hoped not. Too much temptation, and too much alcohol in the blood to put up much of a fight. “You sure you're okay to get home, J?”
“I'm sure,” said Justin, and didn't go anywhere. Chris looked up at him, trying to figure out what was going on, and that was the moment that, clumsily and far too quick, Justin bent down to kiss him. Their lips met for just a moment, and all Chris had time to be aware of was the brush of something soft and wet against his lips, maybe a little scratch of stubble, and then Justin was straightening up again, looking down at him like a scared rabbit.
Wow. Okay, wow. Shock to the system. “Um,” said Chris dumbly.
The next thing he knew, Justin was running, long legs taking him at high speed, if not in quite a straight line, up the street to his own apartment building. “Justin!” Chris shouted, but he was too drunk to run after him. Soon enough, Justin was out of sight.
Chris sighed and fumbled for his keys.
***
When Justin finally got home he was still panting from running most of the sixteen blocks home, and then climbing eight flights of stairs. He closed the door and put his back up against it, letting his breath get back to normal, and trying to get his head straight. He was very drunk. And that had been real stupid. He made a point of slowly and carefully putting his sneakers away under the chair, before he sat down heavily on the bed and picked up the phone.
He sat there for a few moments, just listening to the dial tone, before starting to punch the number in, running his other hand through his hair. He was aware it was after midnight, and this wasn't a great time to be making phone calls, but he'd just screwed everything up royally and he needed to talk to someone who would understand.
He dialled for Tennessee, and then the number. It rang, once, twice, three times, before it was picked up with a sleepy, “Hello?”
For a moment he couldn't say anything.
“Is someone there?” A pause. “Justin, is that you?”
He took a deep breath, and managed somehow to keep his voice from cracking. “Momma?”
Part 5 Part 6
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Summary: It's pretty hard to date a guy who thinks you're straight. Part 4 of 6.
Warnings: Boybands, RPF. There is sex in other installments.
For
dizmo.Six Steps To Being A Better Stand-Up
Step Four: Chickenshit
December 11th
Tuesday nights, a bunch of them usually went out for beers and pool. It was Justin's fifth week at Travelstar, and it was the first time he'd seriously considered missing out: saying he had a date or was taking a class at the Y. Something. The problem was Chris was hardly talking to him, and hadn't been since the start of the week. Justin figured that Alecia had told him, after all, and ever since that had occurred to him – 2 o'clock that morning – he'd been in a state of semi-panic. Eventually Chris would tell the office and then Justin would lose his job.
But both Joey and Lance had asked him if he was coming, and both times he'd said, “Sure,” so here he was, beer in hand, playing pool with Nick while Chris talked to Lance and Joey in the corner. Alecia was at the jukebox, trying to persuade the limited selection in the pool hall to turn up something she liked.
Nick potted a ball and straightened up to scope out his next shot as Justin took a sip of his beer. “So I heard you and Alecia broke up,” he said conversationally.
“Yeah,” Justin said. “Well, no. We were never really...”
Nick nodded sagely. “Sucks.” He bent over for another shot, which meant Chris came into view behind him. Justin watched while he could. Chris was still talking, beer bottle in hand, and from the look on his face, he was bitching. Lance was looking calm, the kind of enforced calm he used on irate customers, and Joey put one hand on Chris's arm to reassure him. Chris brushed it off violently and caught sight of Justin watching him; Justin looked away sharply, focusing his attention on Nick's shot. Nick missed.
The next ten minutes were taken up with kicking Nick's ass. Justin was good at pool and didn't see any reason to hide it; Chris and Alecia could both give him a run for his money, but unless he was out of his mind on vodka, Nick was pretty easy to beat. When he was done, he took a hefty swig of his beer – courage – and walked over to Chris.
Chris glanced up at him, looking all kinds of surprised, and a little bit angry.
“Want to play a game?” Justin asked.
Chris looked at Lance, who gave him a reproving look, and then sighed. “Sure thing.”
Justin kept meaning to start a conversation, he really did, but every time he tried to say something, Chris was concentrating on his shot, or chalking his cue, or not even looking Justin's way, so the words just kept sticking in his throat. Apart from an occasional, “Your shot,” they played pretty much in silence. Justin wanted to say something, but short of coming right out and asking Chris if he had a problem with Justin being gay, he couldn't think of a way in. It was a good game, short and pretty even: Justin kept missing stupidly easy shots, but so did Chris, until they ended up with just the eight ball on the table.
Justin took his shot, slow and careful, and set the cue ball sailing across the table at just the wrong angle: it hit the black and bounced it off the cushion instead of right into the hole, leaving Chris with a stunningly easy shot. He bent over to bang his head on the table. “Oh, shit.”
Chris actually laughed, and Justin laughed too; it didn't quite feel like they were cool, but some of the tension was worked off. He looked at Chris, who smiled and batted his eyelashes at Justin. “Are you trying to make up with me?” he asked, walking to the table.
Alecia had told him, then. Justin looked Chris right in the eye, unamused. He was hurt, even. He'd really hoped that no matter what Chris thought, he wouldn't make fun. Clearly he'd been wrong. “Absolutely not,” he said, which was as close as he could come to civil, and turned to put away his cue.
Chris potted the eight ball and stalked away.
***
“Fucking Justin,” Chris spat. “Fucking little arrogant homophobic son of a bitch.”
Lance said, “Hey,” and Joey said, “Dude,” and one of them pushed him a fresh beer as he threw himself into an empty seat. Chris drank half of it in one swallow, head tipped back, and caught Lance's smirk as he put the beer back on the table.
“Some day you're gonna make a lucky guy real happy, you know that?” Lance said.
Chris raised one eyebrow. “You want me to deep-throat the bottle, Bass?”
Joey spat some of his own beer back into the bottle. “Hey, some of us are trying to be straight over here, man.”
Lance grinned at him sunnily, and Chris felt better enough from the beer to chuckle. He glanced over at the pool table – thank heaven for small mercies, Justin was gone. He turned back to Lance, who was looking at him with mother-hen eyes. He sighed. “I wasn't being a jerk. Seriously. I was just messing around, and he went all bitch-ass on me.”
“Uh huh,” said Lance, with a level of sympathy that Chris just knew was faked. Sure enough, Lance broke into a grin after just a second.
Chris turned back to his beer. “Oh, fuck you,” he said.
***
Justin took as long as he could carefully putting his cue away before going to look for Alecia. She was on the other side of the bar, perched on a table and chatting to Nick. “Hey,” she said brightly. “Nick says you kicked his butt. Again.”
Justin smiled weakly. “Can we talk?” He jerked his head towards the door.
“Sure,” she said, but she didn't move. He tried to stare her down, but she just stared him down right back. “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of Nicky.”
“It's cool,” said Nick, shrugging. He grabbed his drink and got up; as he walked off Justin gratefully took his seat.
“Okay. What?” asked Alecia dangerously.
“Chris knows,” Justin said flatly.
Alecia beamed. “Hey, that's awesome. Nice work.”
“I didn't tell him,” said Justin, looking at her accusingly. “Somebody else did.”
“Sure wasn't me,” said Alecia. She hopped off the table and sat down next to Justin. “Hey, I swear. I didn't say a thing. What happened? Did he say, 'so, you're gay, then', or what?”
“Nah,” said Justin. “Just... you know, he was Chris about it. Made fun.”
Alecia stood up. “Stay here,” she said. “I'll fix it.”
Before Justin had time to protest, she'd already gone boucing off towards Chris.
***
Lance and Joey had headed off for a game, leaving Chris alone with beer and his thoughts. Okay, no, it wasn't enough that Justin was straight, or that he was eighteen years old, or even that they worked together; he had to be a bigoted little son of a bitch, too. Chris always chose the best people to get a crush on.
It was bizarre, because surely Justin knew that half the guys in the office were gay. Maybe he was one of these guys that was totally fine with gay people until you made him notice that there were some nearby. That wouldn't be totally out of the question for a kid from Tennessee.
“Hey,” said Alecia, throwing herself into a seat beside him.
He smiled at her. “Hey, you. Having a good night?”
“Better than you or Justin, looks like,” she said. “Listen, give him a break, okay?”
“Any particular reason I should?” Chris asked, raising one eyebrow at her. “Because last I checked, he was being a total ass.”
“He's having a hard time right now,” said Alecia. “He's been in Florida, like, a month and a half, he never lived away from home before. You remember what that's like, right?”
Chris sighed. He remembered, all right. “Yeah,” he said. “It's just, you know. There's a whole bunch of stuff I could do without tonight, and Justin Timberlake bringing the Bible Belt to my door is definitely on the list.”
“Maybe he just doesn't get it?”
Chris smirked. “More likely, he just figured out I'm gay, and now he's trying to forget he ever talked to me about basketball.”
“Actually,” Alecia said, smiling, “I'm pretty sure he'd really love you to go over and talk to him.” She jerked her head towards the bar. Something leapt in Chris's chest and he looked at Alecia, surprised, then realized he must have read that totally upside-down. She'd made it sound for all the world like Justin was waiting over there for Chris to go make his move. Straight boy, he reminded himself.
Still, there was no point pretending he wasn't going to go. “Okay, fine,” he said, trying to make it sound like a chore, “I'll talk to him. When I've finished my beer.”
***
Justin ended up sitting at the bar, watching Lance and Joey play pool, not able to even look over towards where Alecia had joined Chris. Nick was sitting beside him, pretty drunk and telling Brian about how his girlfriend didn't get along with his roommate – or his roommate didn't get along with his girlfriend – whichever, it was a topic Justin had exactly no interest in. Still, it beat sitting alone, so he half-listened to their conversation, drinking a lot faster than he really should. After a few minutes the two of them took off, and Justin managed to say “G'night,” without slurring too much. Then he was just alone with his quarter-full bottle of beer, trying hard not to touch the sticky surface of the bar too much.
Pool night was usually a lot more fun. Then again, pool night usually involved a lot more goofing off with Chris.
Justin was just about to order another beer, thanking God for good fake ID, when Chris slid onto the bar stool beside him. “Okay,” he said without preamble, “I forgive you.” Justin turned, still registering that he was there at all, and Chris went on. “You're still a jackass, but I forgive you.”
Justin looked at him for a very long moment, trying through his drunken haze to figure out exactly what was going on. Chris didn't seem like he was about to punch him, though, and he felt too drunk to argue, so he said, “Yeah. Same here.”
Chris nodded and called the bartender over to order two beers. When they came, he slid one over to Justin. “You coming to the table?” he asked. “I think we're all too drunk for more pool.”
Justin nodded and blindly followed Chris to where Alecia, Joey and Lance were talking and drinking. He and Chris ended up next to each other again. The first thing Chris did when he sat down was crack a stupid joke, folding the rest of them up with laughter, and after that everything was okay.
It was almost midnight when Alecia said, out of the blue, “Okay, so I have a question.” The rest of them turned to her. “Who here has experience with the same sex?”
“Experience of what, hon?” Lance asked, waggling his eyebrows, and Alecia poked her tongue out at him.
“Is this like I Never?” said Joey. “We have to drink?”
“Nah,” she said. “Just say. Lance first.” Lance was on her right, and Justin on her left; everybody would have to say something before Justin did. Justin was a little grateful.
“Um, hello? Gay here. So that'd be a yes.”
“Anyone we know?” said Chris, and Lance gave him a look. “Apart from me, okay,” Chris said. Justin turned to look at Chris, and he knew his eyebrows were now somewhere in his hairline. Chris and Lance? Chris with guys?
“Uh, well,” Lance was saying. “JC. You know, a couple times.”
“Seriously?” said Alecia.
“Okay, game stops, new gossip in town,” said Joey.
“When?” Chris asked.
Lance smiled and blushed a little. “A couple weeks ago. And Sunday night. It's, um. It's nice. I have no idea where it's going, but...”
Joey smiled at Lance, genuinely. “Cool, man. JC's a nice guy, I hope it works out.”
“Yeah,” said Chris, picking up his beer. “Good for you.”
“It's not really a thing yet,” Lance protested. “It's a pre-thing. A proto-thing. Maybe.”
Alecia was smiling too. “Okay, moving on. Joey?”
Joey didn't look embarrassed to say, “With guys? Sure, a few times when I was a kid. But I'm with Kelly now.”
Alecia nodded. “Uh huh. Chris?”
Justin looked at Chris with interest, and Chris said, “Ah, I'm only straight when I'm drunk.”
They folded up with laughter again. Somewhere in the middle of trying to regain control of his diaphragm, Justin managed to say, “Man, you should say more of that stuff on stage.”
Chris gave him a smile of pure cynicism. “Wouldn't play,” he said. Justin let it lie, because he knew what was coming next.
Sure enough, Alecia turned on him. “What about you, Justin?”
Justin took a breath and tried, really tried, to mention the guy he'd made out with at graduation, but what actually came out was, “No, never,” and he didn't look up because he knew Alecia would be shooting daggers at him.
He knew he was right about the look on Alecia's face. It became obvious when Chris said, “Aw, c'mon, he can't help being the only straight guy at Travelstar.”
Lance giggled. “He's really straight? Damn, now I have to fire him.”
Justin laughed dutifully, a little bit too drunk to cope with the weird new world opening up in front of him. It wasn't just Lance; it was Chris too, and there was JC, and Joey, and apparently every other guy in the place. He got up unsteadily and put his half-empty beer down heavily on the table. Chris looked up at him sharply. “You okay, kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, “I just, uh.” That was about as far as he could get. He turned and managed, just about, not to run for the bathroom, where he shut himself in a cubicle and didn't throw up.
***
Alecia and Lance were waiting for him when he emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, feeling a bit calmer, but no more sober despite all the cold water he'd splashed on his face. Alecia took his wrist and led him to a table out of sight of the others. When he was sitting, Lance thrust a glass of water into his hand. He took it, gratefully, and drank.
“You,” said Alecia when he put the glass down, “are a total chickenshit.”
He looked at her. She had her elbows on the table, head propped up on her folded hands. “I couldn't,” he said. “Even after... Is Chris really gay?”
Alecia and Lance looked at each other. Alecia grinned; Lance blinked. “You got a little crush, dontcha?”
“Oh, that explains a lot,” Lance said. He looked at Justin seriously. “Why didn't you just tell us? That you're gay, I mean, not your deepest fantasies about Chris. Those, I can live without.”
Justin smiled weakly. “I just. I don't know. I was starting to think I was just a big freak.”
“Well, you are,” said Alecia, “but that's got nothing to do with being gay.” Justin laughed at that. Then he carefully met Lance's eyes.
“You and Chris?”
“Oh, God. For like a week. Worst idea ever.” Lance grinned. “You're in no danger from me, man.”
Justin could relax a bit after that. While he finished his water, Lance and Alecia both insisted that he should talk to Chris. “Chris is a nice guy,” Lance kept saying earnestly, leaning forward. “Really, he's a great guy.” Justin, all of a sudden, sort of liked the idea of coming out to Chris. And of something maybe coming of that. After all, it was pretty hard to date a guy who thought you were straight.
Eventually, Justin put down the empty glass and said, “Thanks. I really oughta get home.”
“You feeling better?” Lance asked.
“Yeah.”
Alecia grabbed Justin's wrist again and pulled him to his feet. “Come say goodbye to Chris and Joey,” she said, and dragged him across the bar towards the table. He had to use most of his concentration to stay standing all the way there. Chris and Joey both looked up at him curiously.
“Are you okay?” said Joey.
“Yeah,” Justin said. “I'm good. I just really need to go home.” At that point he had to hold onto the back of Chris's chair to stay standing. “Whoa. I think I'm drunk.”
Chris got up, looking concerned. “Jesus, you're hammered,” he said. “You sure as hell better not be driving.”
“Nah,” said Justin. “Car's still fucked.”
“Really? Ouch,” Chris said. He grabbed Justin's arm to steady him. “C'mon, I'll help you get home in one piece. See you tomorrow, guys.”
***
Chris's place was on the way to Justin's, so Chris reluctantly agreed to let Justin walk home alone from his place. He still seemed a little too drunk for Chris's liking, but there was only so much adolescent whining a guy could take. By the time they turned onto Chris's block, the fresh air had cleared Chris's head a little.
“Did you mean what you said back there?” he asked, experimentally.
“Sure,” said Justin. Chris was pretty sure Justin had no idea what the topic of conversation was.
“About my routine,” he said. “You really think I should do more of that stuff?”
Justin looked at him and seemed a little more focused on the conversation. “Yeah. You're, like, naturally funny. You should use that.”
“Yeah, but...” He shrugged. “It's like, I'm not so sure that's gonna play so well to your average audience. You know what I mean?”
“It's funny,” Justin insisted. “It's, whaddayacallit. Subversive.”
Chris smiled. “I'm not sure they really want subversive at bar mitzvahs,” he said. “Plus, I start saying that kind of stuff, I become the gay comic. I mean, it's one thing being out at work, right? But if you're trying to get people to notice you.”
“Maybe it's important,” said Justin.
Chris smirked. “Maybe I'm not a public service,” he said.
“Yeah, but... It's not about that, is it? It's about being yourself. I mean, the thing is. In real life, you're funny, because you're you. You know, you're comfortable. But on stage, you're pretending to be this guy that you're not, like, you're pretending to be straight, right, and so maybe you're not as funny because you're not, you know, being you.” Chris blinked; for a drunk teenager, the kid might be making a bit of sense.
“So basically, you think if I was gayer on stage I'd be funnier?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Okay, maybe not so much with the sense. “I'm not exactly Elton John,” said Chris with a sigh.
“But it's important,” said Justin. “To be you. Yourself, I mean. To have people know who you are.”
Chris shrugged. “Your friends, I guess, it's important that they know who you are. Not so sure about my audience.”
When they reached Chris's building, they stopped outside the door, and Chris lingered a little. It was that time of the night again: Justin was drunk and wavering on his feet, and he wondered if Justin was going to ask to stay again. He hoped not. Too much temptation, and too much alcohol in the blood to put up much of a fight. “You sure you're okay to get home, J?”
“I'm sure,” said Justin, and didn't go anywhere. Chris looked up at him, trying to figure out what was going on, and that was the moment that, clumsily and far too quick, Justin bent down to kiss him. Their lips met for just a moment, and all Chris had time to be aware of was the brush of something soft and wet against his lips, maybe a little scratch of stubble, and then Justin was straightening up again, looking down at him like a scared rabbit.
Wow. Okay, wow. Shock to the system. “Um,” said Chris dumbly.
The next thing he knew, Justin was running, long legs taking him at high speed, if not in quite a straight line, up the street to his own apartment building. “Justin!” Chris shouted, but he was too drunk to run after him. Soon enough, Justin was out of sight.
Chris sighed and fumbled for his keys.
***
When Justin finally got home he was still panting from running most of the sixteen blocks home, and then climbing eight flights of stairs. He closed the door and put his back up against it, letting his breath get back to normal, and trying to get his head straight. He was very drunk. And that had been real stupid. He made a point of slowly and carefully putting his sneakers away under the chair, before he sat down heavily on the bed and picked up the phone.
He sat there for a few moments, just listening to the dial tone, before starting to punch the number in, running his other hand through his hair. He was aware it was after midnight, and this wasn't a great time to be making phone calls, but he'd just screwed everything up royally and he needed to talk to someone who would understand.
He dialled for Tennessee, and then the number. It rang, once, twice, three times, before it was picked up with a sleepy, “Hello?”
For a moment he couldn't say anything.
“Is someone there?” A pause. “Justin, is that you?”
He took a deep breath, and managed somehow to keep his voice from cracking. “Momma?”
Part 5 Part 6
