Grounded
When Lance arrives back from Russia he doesn't really say anything out of the ordinary. He just shrugs his shoulders and says something that JC doesn't really listen to. Instead, JC looks at his eyes because that's one way Lance can't lie about how he's feeling.
Lance's eyes tell JC the truth about what happened so when Lance asks if he can crash at JC's he doesn't think twice about saying yes.
JC has no idea what the actual time is; he knows it's late though because Joey kept them out late drinking. It must be somewhere near five and when he vaguely hears the door to his room open a sliver of yellow light intrudes inside the safe cocoon that he's hiding in.
He considers burrowing further under the covers in an attempt to hide from it, but settles for moaning instead. Less work that way.
"Sorry."
Lance's voice is soft, just a little above a whisper and JC always forgets how deep his voice sounds.
He attempts a response but he's still not entirely awake and his face is partially muffled by the covers so he's pretty sure it's unrecognisable anyway. He can hear Lance moving closer and instead of attempting to repeat himself he simply pushes back the covers and shuffles over a little in his bed.
The mattress dips a little when Lance sits down on it. A rush of cold air hits JC's chest before the covers are pulled back once again and Lance is lying next to him.
JC takes a moment before he attempts to speak or even move, Lance still hasn't said anything besides his whispered apology from the doorway. JC wipes the back of his hand across his face and eyes and it drags across his skin like sandpaper. His mouth's dry and he really could do with a drink, except that's what made him feel like this in the first place.
He blinks the sleep out of his eyes and when he can finally focus on Lance's face on the pillow next to him he can see his friend is staring straight up at the ceiling. His own eyes open wide.
"Hey." JC's pleased in his current state he managed even that.
Lance finally looks at him and smiles. Anybody else would probably think that smile meant Lance was happy but JC isn't fooled.
"You wanna talk about it?"
JC isn't sure what he expects Lance to say and isn't surprised when all he does is shake his head.
"There's always next time."
Lance isn't the sort of person to not get something he wants.
"What if there isn't?"
Lance's voice is so quiet it almost shocks JC and the way that he looks at him, even more so.
JC covers the small distance that separates the two of them, wraps his arm around Lance's shoulder and pulls him close.
Lance just rolls with the movement, curls his body against JC and nuzzles his face against the crook of his neck. JC can feel Lance's breath, warm against his skin, which is slightly sticky and sweat-slicked.
He doesn't say anything more but just holds Lance close and rubs his hand up and down Lance's back. After a few moments he rests his hand along the length of Lance's backbone, pressure against the cotton of the t-shirt that Lance is wearing.
Lance's face is pushed into the crook of JC's neck and his hair is soft and tickles the underside of his face. JC's just getting comfortable when he feels Lance attempt to move. He blinks up at Lance who's now sitting up slightly, pulling at his shirt until it's removed and discarded on the floor.
JC settles back down and waits for Lance to do the same but all he does is stare at him. JC's about to say something but when he opens his mouth to speak Lance cups one hand to the side of his face and brings his own mouth into contact with JC's lips.
Lance's tongue is lapping at his mouth and before he's even thinking about it JC is kissing him back. Hot wet tongue sliding in and JC swallows the moans that Lance is making. Lance tastes like raspberries, sweet and JC wants to taste more. One hand snakes down his body, slides across his chest and moves further down across the flat of his stomach. Lance's other hand is stroking JC's face and he lets Lance push him further onto his back.
Lance is a heavy weight pressing on top of him as they kiss. It takes a moment for JC's brain to catch up with his body and Lance's hand wrapping around his cock is a none too gentle reminder.
With a rather reluctant shove of his hand, JC pushes against Lance. He doesn't move far but his hand is gone and they're no longer kissing. Although Lance's mouth is tantalisingly close, full lips only a fraction from his own. Lance is panting and JC can feel the warm exhalation of air against his own now flushed skin.
Lance's eyes are pulled tightly close and JC for a moment thinks he can feel a shiver pass through Lance's whole body where they're still touching. It's gone before JC is sure though, in the warmth of his room, JC thinks it's no coincidence.
"This isn't why you're here?" It takes a few moments before JC can speak in anything above a fractured broken whisper.
"What do you mean?" Lance's accent seems so much thicker when his mouth is pressed so close to JC, almost like they're still touching.
"Why are you here, Lance?" JC makes no effort to move, despite the fact that he knows he probably should.
"I want… this. I want you."
JC waits till Lance's eyes flicker open before he finishes. Dark green almost melting to black in the darkness of his room. Lance's face is a contrast of shadows and light, his mouth is slightly dewy and glistens in a red line. JC can see the tip of his tongue as he speaks.
"No. You just want to forget."
Lance pulls back quickly, covers pushed back and once again JC is hit with a blast of slightly cooler air against his Lance-warmed skin.
Lance looks angry and hurt but mostly angry and he pulls away before he even bothers to reply. His mouth no longer full and inviting but pulled tightly closed in a sneer between words that are spat out.
"Fuck you, JC."
Each word is clearly spoken, enunciated for greater effect and JC feels each of the three words tear its way through his own body. He reaches out quickly and circles Lance's wrist with his hand. Lance tries to pull away but JC can tell he's not really trying very hard to escape.
"Don't Lance, wait."
JC sits up slightly, Lance is still facing away from him but even at this angle JC has no trouble seeing the look that passes across his face.
"Don't go… stay here tonight?"
JC moves back a little when he sees Lance nod his head. He doesn't say anything as he climbs back under the covers. JC wraps his arms around him and pulls him close, squeezes him tight before relaxing his grip a little.
JC waits until Lance is asleep before he even closes his eyes.
When JC wakes up, mouth even drier than it had been the night before, his bed is empty and the covers are uncharacteristically pulled up tight. Tidy as opposed to half-kicked-off, like when he usually wakes.
The other side of the bed is empty but still warm and JC moves into the heat that hasn't escaped yet. Rests his head on the pillow next to him and lets the smell take over his senses as he drifts in and out of sleep.