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They found JC at the studio, going over some tracks. Joey shoved Chris inside, and took up guard duty by the door. "Hey, Chris. What's up?" "I. Um. I." JC smiled encouragingly. "Yes?" "I'minlovewithyou," Chris blurted out. JC's face darkened. "That's not funny." "It isn't meant to be. It's the truth." "Right. I suppose we're going to have 2.5 children and a little house with a white picket fence?" "What? No, Jayce --" "And I'll just turn a blind eye to the fact that our eldest daughter is named Justine, right?" "It's not like that," Chris said softly. "Then what's it like?" JC asked. "'Cause -- correct me if I'm wrong -- last I saw, you were mooning over Justin." "Orioning," Chris muttered. "What?" "Nothing. C, why did you time travel?" "What does that have to do with anything?" "What was so huge, so monumental, that you 20-year-old self had to travel into the *future* to be able to deal with it?" "You," JC whispered. "I fell in love with you." "So why is it so hard to believe I might love you back?" "Chris, not even 6 *hours* ago you were --" "--an idiot. I was a blind, stupid idiot, I know. And then I opened my eyes, and if you'll only say yes, I'll be perfectly happy, and Justin can just go fuck himself." "Or Britney?" "Or Britney." Chris brushed a curl of JC's forehead, and looked up pleadingly into his eyes. "Please?" he asked. "Yes," JC said, and kissed him. "Guys! Hey, guys, you better get out here!" Joey called. "Justin's on the phone. He says that Lance's turned into a flapper!" Chris laughed. "Explain that one, oh Font of Wisdom." "Well," JC said as he kissed Chris' nose, "now he can dance..."
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