And then Joey, he needed to be pried from the TV screen. He had been lounging all day in gawdawful plaid flannel pants, getting popcorn bits between the couch cushions, and flipping stations between QVC and the goddamn Discovery channel. You think he'd want to watch sports or even MTV, but no.

JC was also scribbling in a notebook, probably writing song lyrics or poetry. Justin was asleep and snoring -- god, someone needs to whack that kid.

Chris sighed and almost wished he had stayed on the other bus. But he looked down and finished the initial outline of a certain blonde headed character and was glad that he had stayed close to his muse.

He grabbed for his colored pencils and opted for a light green to shade in the irises of the boy who was positioned seductively over a darker character -- one who looked surprisingly like himself.

Chris looked up at Lance, whose fingers still moved over the laptop like a piano, and gauged just how dark he would make the eyes. Chris' gaze lingered -- he thought of those eyes mirroring passion, sexual release. And then it was as if Lance felt the leer -- he scratched at his the back of his neck and looked over at Chris.

He smiled. "Hey. Whatcha doing?"

Chris jerked back to reality, almost blighting his art with a big green stroke of pencil. "Huh?" he said. "Oh, just thinking." He stared down at his drawing hoping that Lance wouldn't pursue the current line of conversation.

"Okay. You just looked a little to spaced out," he said and turned to continue the tap tap tap.

"He's not spaced out, he's on crack!" JC squeaked. He stood up, suddenly interested in the conversation.

Chris rolled his eyes, then widened them as JC plunked down next to him.

"Can I see?" JC asked, a finger pointing to the sketchbook that was now clutched at Chris' chest.

"No. I mean --" Chris paused, digging for an easy way out of this. "It's just some yaoi doujinshi, it's not finished." Yeah, Kirkpatrick, throw funny words at him and confuse him.

"Yaoi, hmmm," JC said and scratched his head. "Is this part of that anime stuff you're into?"

Damn, JC was just a little -too- smart. "Uh, kinda sorta," Chris said, his eyes focused on the black and blue fabric of the chair JC sat on.

JC tilted his head, trying to read Chris' expression. "Will you show me when it's finished?" he asked.

Chris shifted in his seat and loosened his grip on the notebook. "I don't know," he said, still not looking at JC directly. "I don't think it'll be any good."

Justin woke up, eyes squinty and annoyed. "Just show it to him, you basketcase," he said. "And then shut up."

"Leave him alone," Lance piped up. "If he doesn't want to show us, he doesn't have to." He stood up and stretched, and headed over to the refrigerator.

JC huffed, and walked back to his own notebook, where he wrote a few words quickly, then shut the book and walked off with it towards the back of the bus.

Joey laughed. "I think you two pissed him off."

Lance sat back down at his laptop with a bowl of strawberry applesauce. "It isn't my fault he's nosy."

"Yeah," Chris said, as he picked up another pencil -- this time a light pink -- to color the lips of his anime fantasy boy.

Chris watched Lance eat -- watched as his mouth sucked in the spoon, as he licked the sweet sauce from his lips.

Lance must have had some strange alliance of the senses, because again he scratched at the back of his neck and turned his head towards Chris. "Chris? You're weirding me out here." He stopped the tap tap tap and traded it for the bounce bounce bounce of a knee nervously twitching.

Chris closed his eyes and bit his lip. He wanted to just click his heels three times and say there's no place like home...

Lance smiled, nearly blushed. "Are you drawing me?" he said. His knee still bobbed up and down, now in anticipation.

Chris opened his eyes to find Lance crouched near him, hand reaching for the incriminating sketchbook. He quickly pulled it back to his chest.

Lance knelt at Chris' feet and put his elbows on Chris' knees. He grinned. "I'm right. It is me."

Chris squirmed in his seat, suddenly feeling extra warmth flowing into his groin. "N-n-no?" he said. It came out broken and like a question -- like a lamp shattered on the floor with no one to blame.

Lance squeezed one of Chris thighs and bounced up into the seat next to Chris. "Show me," he said. "I won't tell anyone..."

"Now look who's being nosy," Chris said. His face was darkening, red creeping up his temples like wildfire.

"Please?" Lance batted his eyelashes. Chris nearly fainted.

His hands relaxed around the notebook. "Okay." he said. "But don't hate me after you look."

Lance frowned. "Why would I ha--" his sentence was forgotten when his eye traced over the figures that were obviously sharing an intimate moment.

He smiled. "Chris? Is this--" again the words were lost.

Chris exhaled deeply and he looked a little less red and flustered. "Yeah, it's--"

Lance reached for Chris' hand and took out the pencil he was clutching, replacing it with his own hand and intertwining fingers.

End.

Originally written as an *Mprov on 12/2/00, with the words basketcase, black and blue, plaid, e-commerce, alliance, strawberry applesauce, yaoi doujinshi.