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The first time his mom said the words, he was sure it was a joke. Or maybe just a cruel kind of tease. After all, she knew that he had been looking, from time to time.

Then he realized that he was talking to his mother. His mother who would never do something like that to him. Plus, she didn’t even have a real sense of humor. One of the little things that showed how different they were.

But then again, the words, “Your mom wants to meet you,” spoken out loud by *your mother* had to come right out of a comedy, didn’t’ they? There was just one mom to have, even if you were adopted because the other one clearly wasn’t there. Or else why would one be adopted?

Why had he been?

Startling himself back to reality and the tense silence he could taste even through the static of the phone line, he tried to give an answer but found that to be pretty much impossible. The one word that kept repeating itself in his mind, drowning all others, was unsuitable for any conversation with his mother. Even this one. Slowly, he took his cell phone from his ear, seeing the display that read “Mom&Dad” and pinched the button, effectively cutting himself off.

He sat down heavily on his bed and let his phone fall to the floor, the carpet softening its thud. He felt numb. Nothing seemed to make sense for one second, and the other second everything made sense.

He had a mother.

No, he had *two* mothers. His real one and the not real one. If someone could just tell him now which one was which. And also tell him whether he wanted to meet the one that was in ways more real and so much less real than the one he had known all his life.

A knock on his door made him look up and check his watch. Was there something important he had to do? Maybe some interview or a performance or anything else that would keep his mind off mothers? But no, it was Wednesday, and with that probably their only day off during the entire tour. Looking at the empty bed across the room he also knew who had knocked at such an ungodly hour.

His mom would always call around eight o’clock in the morning. Like she actually thought that was the time he normally got up. And besides, her there was only one other person who would dare to knock on his door at that time.

“Come on, Josh. Open up. I know you’re awake.”

He always said that. He’d tried to tell him that it was a pretty stupid thing to say, because, of course, he was awake. Someone had knocked on his door and was now yelling at him, so how could he not be awake? But then again, maybe it was a smart thing to say, because almost no one knew that he was everything but a heavy sleeper.

Only Lance knew.

Just like only Lance knew that it was Wednesday, and his mom always called on Wednesdays before she left to work.

Feeling his spirits lift a little, he crossed the room and opened the door.

“Is it so hard to remember to take your key card before you leave to go clubbing?”

Lance just smiled at him enigmatically and walked into their room, the light swagger of his hips telling novels about how many drinks he’d had. And probably, Josh gave Lance a short check over, a blowjob in the stall, or judging by the way he held his head, a more uncomfortable spot.

They knew each other. They all knew each other, but he and Lance, they had knowing all about the other down to an art.

A fact that drove their friends crazy. It wasn’t even that they were such good friends. Hell, Lance probably liked Joey a whole lot better, and JC was just fine not having to deal with the kind of best friends relationship that the guys around him seemed to thrive on.

He wasn’t really into giving that kind of commitment of time and energy to another person. Unless he got sex out of it. Which Lance would probably offer, since Lance was a very giving spirit when it came to that, but he wasn’t very interested in anything that was not smooth and warm and curvy and, well, female.

So the fact that they knew each other this well wasn’t because of their deep friendship—it was rather out of necessity. The rules during a tour were simple. At least for him. He stayed away from the bus that made him sneeze due to its animalistic population; and when it came to rooming in a hotel, he stayed with Lance. Because Lance was maybe not very good in remembering to take his key card, but other than that, they were roommates made for each other.

They were both neat, both preferred to work quietly on either notebook or, well, a real paper-like notebook, and while Lance never took one of his fuck interests home (he used to say, “What good would it do to share a bed with a wet spot in it anyway?”), and if Josh had someone over, he pretty much always was alone again by the time Lance dragged himself home.

Joey needed a room for himself, since he was the one who did bring girls and boys alike, sometimes even together, to his room and liked a good-morning fuck just as much as a good-night fuck, so no one was really keen on rooming with him.

Justin and Chris, well, they already shared a brain, so sharing a room was kind of the logical choice.

So Josh didn’t mind having Lance with him now. It was better than thinking about the fact that his mother had called, like she did every Wednesday, giving him news that did not fit with the normalcy of the morning. He wondered for a second if he had imagined it all, hoped even, that he had.

But he hadn’t thought about looking for his birth mother in years, and he wasn’t one to imagine things like this.

Lance gave him a strange look, and he knew that he must have missed something. Probably Lance having asked a question.

Blinking, he gave Lance his best “I’m an airhead” look and raised his eyebrows waiting for a repeat. Lance must have been used to it by now. Well, everyone who knew him probably was. He had the slight tendency to live in his head, and reality wasn’t always worth it for him to pay attention to.

Lance still looked at him questioningly.

“Are you alright?” he asked, and, from the sound of it, not for the first time.

“Yeah, of course,” he thought and said, “No.”

Just his look, or maybe Lance’s. Seemed like he had chosen the barely-walking drunk one as the guy to go to for advice. On mothers.

Or maybe he just needed...warm hands, smelling like smoke and soap, barely covering the smell of musk, came to rest on his shoulders...a hug.

Subtly he leant forward, only millimeters, but Lance would get the message. He always did. And, as predicted, he could feel the hands, with the incredibly long fingers moving away from his shoulders to finally rest on his back. Leaning in, he could feel Lance tightening his hold and murmuring nonsensical soothing words that would not reach him.

They never did.

When he noticed that Lance was almost literally asleep on his feet, he loosened his hold on him and dragged him over to the unmade bed. Helping him lay down, he pressed a short kiss of thank you on Lance’s hair and laid down beside him, on top of the covers. No sense in messing up both beds, now was there?

Seconds later, he was asleep, his hand unconsciously seeking Lance’s.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lance knew that something wasn’t right the moment he opened his eyes to darkness. Well, not that a hotel room got really dark, even at night. The flimsy excuses for curtains would never cover the window and the lights of the city entirely, but it was dark enough.

It was never dark when he woke up. At least not for the last five years or so. When he was a kid, his mom would come to his room, every night, closing the drapes, kissing him good night and leaving him in darkness. And he would wake up the next morning, to the sound of his alarm clock, or the radio in the kitchen, or his sister throwing a fit, depending on the day of the week. He would never wake to the light shining through his windows.

When they’d first started touring, he would wake up in the morning to the comfortable darkness of his room, just to realize that it wasn’t his room as soon as he listened to the sounds around him.

He was glad when JC asked him one night if it would be all right to leave the blinds open at night.

From then on, he woke to the light shining in his face and the scratching of a pen over paper. And that was all right too.

So he knew something had to be wrong because there was neither light, nor sound. Only the sunlight peeking through the sides of the curtain and the line of dust they drew across the room.

Rolling to the side, his body touched that of another in his bed. That, too, was wrong, unusual. He wasn’t very fond of sharing his bed, ever since he had discovered the pleasures of space while asleep.

Looking at his bed companion, he was glad to see it was JC. They sometimes ended up sharing a bed, even if they were seldom in it at the same time.

The shrill ring of JC’s cell phone sounded loud in the silence of the room, and Lance looked around frantically. JC looked like he needed his sleep, and he deserved some peace and quiet. Catching sight of the phone on the floor in front of their bed, he grabbed it and pressed the answer button.

“Lo?” he said. No sense in being friendly when someone called at—checking his watch he grinned—four o’clock in the afternoon.

“Yes,” the voice on the other end sounded uncertain. “Is this Joshua?”

Well, lady, Lance thought, who else would it be?

“No, JC’s still asleep.” Even though he could see JC slowly waking up. “Who is this? Can I take a message for him?” Why not just play perky secretary for his secret crush?

“It’s his mother, and it’s really important. Can you tell him that?” Oooh, Lance thought. Bitchy, now aren’t we? And if he knew one thing for sure, it was that Karen Chasez was never bitchy. And she would have recognized him by his voice.

“Nice try,” he smirked. “If I were you, I wouldn’t call this number again.” He loved scaring obnoxious fans. What the hell were they thinking, calling like this?

Hanging up, the question remained in Lance’s mind: They really had fans who were older than thirteen? Would wonders never cease?

Obviously, though, the short conversation had done what the late hour hadn’t been successful with, and JC was now awake, looking at him with sleepy sadness. And that was absolutely out of the norm.

Suddenly remembering early that morning when he’d come in, Lance scooted over to JC to ask him up close and personal if everything was all right when the ringing cell phone stopped him mid-stride.

“What the h...?” He punched the button once more, ready to get nasty, when the voice on the other end of the phone spoke first.

“Whoever you are, you are going to let me talk to my son now.” She sounded a trifle pissed about the fact that he’d hung up on her before. Looking at JC who rubbed his eyes and looked even worse close up, Lance lost his temper.

“Lady, this is a private line, and I would let you talk to him, if you were his mother, which you are n...!” That was as far as he could go, when JC, who had suddenly leapt to life, grabbed the phone out of his hand and sat down heavily with it pressed against his ear.

“Mom?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had awakened to the sweet sound of Lance’s voice and wanted nothing more than to drift in it for a while longer.

Unfortunately, even he was unable to stay asleep much longer, having exceeded his usual eight hours of sleep by about approximately eight hours. It felt basically like any other morning, and it took at least three minutes and the ringing of his cell phone to remind him of what had happened this morning.

He wished he were still asleep.

When he heard Lance snarling at the invisible speaker on the phone, he listened up, mostly because Lance snarling was a sight to behold, or rather a sound to be heard.

By the time the word “mother” penetrated his still sleep-fogged mind, he had already jumped up and grabbed the phone.

“Mom?” he asked, his voice only barely quivering.

“Joshua? Is that really you?” She sounded bitchy. Well, he could do bitchy himself.

“Yeah.” Okay, so he wasn’t Lance in being bitchy, but what the hell.

In the silence, for the minute it lasted, he was pretty sure that the woman – his mother – would hang up any moment. If she hadn’t already.

“Hello? Are you still there?” He didn’t know how to answer. Still waiting for her to hang up. But there was no dial tone. No words either.

He looked over to Lance. Lance knew words. Maybe he could speak to her. He held out the phone to him. Take it, he thought. Make it better, he would have thought if he were still a child.

Lance looked paler than he normally did. For a while, JC was afraid he wouldn’t take the phone, but he did.

“Hi, this is Lance.” He sounded very much in control of the whole situation. JC was grateful for that.

“Yes, I’ll tell him to give you a call...No, you can’t talk to him right now. He isn’t feeling very well...Yes, I’ll be sure to let him know.” And Lance hung up on her. For the second time that morning.

JC felt glum. Lance had been getting all mad and huffed just for him. For a second, he felt like he had a real friend.

For a second he was sure that he had one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josh looked scared. There was no other word for it. His eyes were wide open, and his hands were fisted in the covers of the hotel bed.

Lance sat down beside him, putting the phone in his pocket while he did. He felt better having it with him for a while. Even though he was pretty sure what was going on, he had to ask.

“Your birth mother?”

Josh nodded into his arms. A long time ago, they had talked about that possibility. Josh had said he wanted to get to know her should the chance ever arise. If not, he was happy without her in his life.

Lance couldn’t imagine how it would feel to get a call like this. But he promised himself to be there for his best friend. Putting an arm around him, he took the phone out once again and held it out to Josh. This was a decision he should make.

“Do you want to give her a call? Or do you want me to talk to her? I can tell her to stay away from you if that’s what you want." He was babbling, and he knew it. Confrontations always made him hyper.

Josh just looked at him and nodded. Sometimes he was such an idiot, Lance thought affectionately.

“Oookay,” he said. “Do you want me to guess?”

Josh just looked at him and started grinning.

“Yeah, why don’t you?”

Five minutes later, Lance had opened the blinds, locked the door, and Josh had been staring at the phone in his hand. Now he looked up at Lance and smiled nervously.

“I guess I should just call, right?”

Lance just nodded and waited. Josh looked down at himself, standing there with his shorts and tank top, his hair looking as confused as he probably was, and his eyes still crusted with sleep.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Won’t matter on the phone, now will it?”

Lance laughed to himself when he saw Josh thinking about that and finally accepting it as a fact. He opened the phone and started to look for the last number to redial. Throwing the phone down he rushed to the bathroom.

After Lance heard the water going, he saw Josh rushing out of the bathroom again, his face and hands still wet.

“I just feel better when I’m somewhat clean,” he said apologetically. Lance just nodded and tried not to laugh.

Taking a deep breath, Josh picked up the phone a second time. This time, he made it through the whole number. But then he threw the phone away after dialing to sprint once more to the bathroom.

After Lance heard the flushing of the toilet, Josh came out once more.

“Just, I mean I just, it wouldn’t be good to have to pee when you’re talking to your mom.”

Made sense, Lance thought and remained quiet. Josh looked at him and shrugged. Lance held out the phone to him, and he took it for the third time. Inhaling another deep breath, he dialed and put the phone to his ear.

Slowly rocking from one side to the other, his fingers kneading his lower lip, he waited.

“Hello?” he said into the phone. “Yes, it’s JC. I’m sorry about earlier.”

Lance gave him a reassuring smile and let himself out of their room. This conversation should be private.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Lance hated himself for having made that decision. He paced the corridor of their hotel up and down, waiting for something, anything. He had no idea what was going on in the room, and the suspense was killing him.

After all, she could be an evil stepmother without the step. She could be telling him poisonous nonsense about, well, pretty much everything.

He hated waiting. Especially when he had nothing else to do but wait, and since he was still in his clubbing clothes from the night before and no shoes, he couldn’t really walk anywhere else. And the other guys were probably not around. Not that he was especially interested in talking to them.

Well, at least he didn’t hear any yelling or cursing through the door. Not that Josh was one to yell or curse that much anyway.

Still, he didn’t feel comfortable waiting around and doing nothing. If he had his keycard, he could storm into their room and rescue Josh.

Or not.

Just when he seriously considered knocking on the door to be let back in, the door opened a fraction. Josh stepped out, the cell phone still in his hand. He looked shell-shocked, but all right.

“I think I just agreed to meet her,” he said and went back into the room, Lance following, closing the door behind them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

It was nice and sunny the day they went to see her. JC was at least pretty sure it was sunny because he was wearing sunglasses.

“Josh, take off your sunglasses, why don’t you?”

Of course, they were still in the limo, so he couldn’t really know for sure. And he could maybe take them off if Lance asked him to. Suddenly, he noticed that he didn’t even know what time of day or night it was.

“What time is it?”

Lance just gave him an odd look and checked his watch. “Just about one. We’re still on time.”

Oh yeah. On time to meet his mother. His mother. Who was now probably waiting at the restaurant for them. Or actually she was waiting for him, having no clue that he’d decided he needed Lance as his personal motivational trainer with him. Not that Lance had been entirely happy about having been ambushed into coming to their strange little family reunion, but there wasn’t a lot Lance could do.

Well, he could’ve said no. But, knowing Lance...nah. He would never.

Well, yeah, he would if it’d been anyone else asking. He loved the power of the look. And the fact that Lance somehow thought he actually had to protect poor little JC.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josh looked smug. With his sunglasses on in the dark limo, awaiting the first meeting with his birth mother. He really had no reason to look smug, aside from the fact that he’d ambushed Lance into coming with him.

And even that hadn’t really been something Lance had been terribly opposed to anyway. After all, one just didn’t let his friends go through something like this without emotional support and backup. And that woman hadn’t sounded like she was easy to handle.

After all, she’d been really mean on the phone. An utterly disgraceful bitch. Ooops, maybe he should stop that line of thinking. After all, he’d better pretend to really like her.

What was the old saying? “Love your friend, and pretend to love your enemy.” Or was it “Keep your enemy closer”? Well, whatever the saying was, it didn’t include pissing the enemy off.

So he would have to go with the pretending thing, even if there was still a little part of him that wondered about this sudden hostility towards a woman he’d never even met.

So she had given Josh away...Okay, there was *that*.

Leaning a bit closer to Josh, he took off Josh’s sunglasses himself and gave his friend an (hopefully) encouraging smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For a while, JC was pretty sure that the drive would never end. He was used to long drives all over the country. Had the whole patiently-sitting-around-doing-nothing pretty much down to an art.

If the drive was long, whenever he stepped into a car or bus, knowing that it would take at least half a day or all night to get to his destination, he normally found himself disturbed by the fact that he arrived seemingly minutes after he had started. So, he slept most of the time, but still.

If he stepped into a car knowing he just needed to get around town or drive to the next restaurant, club, or show, it almost always seemed like hours.

Somehow, the irony of this was fascinating. If it was irony at all. Maybe it was just tough shit. Or maybe it was just him being nervous that made this particular drive seem like hours.

Lance was still looking at him. Maybe he should just....Yeah, that could work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was going to sleep. Josh was actually putting his head on Lance’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

That was...

That was so Josh that it was killing Lance. He had always been one to joke with the others about JC being able to sleep anywhere and everywhere, but that was even beyond his wildest imaginations.

On the other hand, why not? If it helped him to cope with his nervousness. Plus, Josh was always kind of cuddly and cute when he slept.

Which he hadn’t really just thought. Men weren’t cuddly and not cute. Well, Justin had been cute too when he had first met him, but that had been 12ish cute even if he was older and not at all cuddly.

Plus, calling Justin cute now would probably result in him pouting all day about it and stomping his foot. Which was also kind of cute.

But that just supported his theory that men, as in over-21ish men, were not cute. Unless they wanted to sell their music to 12-year-old fans. Which would be the whole stupid idea of boybands, and they weren’t a boyband. They were a vocal group.

Denial was a wonderful thing.

But he digressed. Josh was not cute and not cuddly but he seemed somewhat more accessible, more at peace when he was asleep. And Lance only knew that because Josh had the ability to sleep everywhere. It had nothing to do with the fact that he sometimes ended up watching Josh sleep.

Because he wouldn’t. Of course not.

Still, he brushed some of Josh’s unruly strands of hair out of his face and kissed his forehead. Josh just sighed, opened his mouth a bit and said:

“Gah.”

Now that was cute. Nope, no way to denial that away.

Minutes later, he could feel someone shaking him awake and smiled to himself. It really worked best with the whole sleeping thing added.

What the hell is he smiling about? Lance wondered. But in the enigma that was Josh, one better did not ask too many questions.

Lance seemed to smile at him, a bit surprised, and JC smiled back. Better put Lance at ease a bit, he thought. He looked kind of disturbed.

Lance thought about telling Josh that he had a nice print of Lance’s shirt on his cheek but decided against doing that. Josh’s smile already had something maniacal to it—better not to add to his already-apparent nervousness.

Together, they got out of the car and stepped into the bright sunlight. For a second, Lance felt sorry for having taken away Josh’s sunglasses, but he just looked better without them on.

Not that he noticed that. Or paid any attention to that. Especially not when Josh went through such a hard time.

He still had that air of distraction around him that spoke of his deep inner pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The weather was nice. Really. He wished he had his sunglasses back, because he looked so cool in them.

The only thing he needed was an excuse to wear them, and now that the sun was shining...

Maybe...

Nah, if Lance wanted him not to wear the sunglasses, he could deal with that. Even if he didn’t look as cool without them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first thing he thought when he laid eyes on Josh’s mother was that she looked just like the bitch she probably was—followed quickly by the thought that he really needed an attitude adjustment if he was supposed to survive the day.

It still didn’t stop him from glaring at her, but she could just interpret this as an essential part of his sparkling personality.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JC was still thinking about his sunglasses disaster when he saw her.

She looked...

Actually, she looked as if she was pissed. And she wasn’t even looking at him.

TBC

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