When JC'd called him six days ago and asked Lance if he would go to this festival thing, Lance thought JC was on something.

"No, JC. I don't think so. Um... is Chris there? Did he bring you another 'gift'? Maybe you should stop with that stuff."

JC sounded puzzled, "What stuff? The... oh! No, Chris didn't give me any more of it. I haven't talked to him in a couple of days. I wonder if...".

Lance cut him off. "C? Come back to me here. Why do you want to do this? It sounds like some weird new age hippie thing. From hell."

JC was quiet. Lance wondered if maybe the "From hell." was a bit harsh. It was just... well, when JC got an idea that he couldn't explain in twenty-five words or less it tended to make everyone, especially Lance, nervous. Afterall, that was how they'd ended up singing a not so thinly veiled song about cybersex.

Lance shuddered at the memory of that first rehersal. "JC? Maybe you should track down Chris and ask him. He might go. It sounds like his sort of thing."

In fact, it wasn't any of the others' "thing". Lance knew that Chris was even more unlikely to agree to go than Lance was. It was weird and out of the blue. JC just called him one day and said he wanted to go to something called Burning Man and would Lance go with him?

Lance had a million excuses not to go - business meetings, calls to make, scripts to read, contracts to review, minions to order around. Important stuff. Stuff that had been left piling up for months while he was in Russia training. Training for four months. Actually, it was 3 months, 11 days, but Lance figured that he deserved to round up. Four long months away from everyone he loved, focused only on space. Four months that, had he achieved that dream, he'd look back on fondly. But now? Now that the dream had been ripped from him? Now they only contained bitterness about the time wasted and all that he'd missed while he was away...

"Nah. It's not really his thing either, man. He told me this story once... like, he was in the desert and there was... I think he said mushrooms... and... well, you saw that Beavis and Butthead movie, right? And... besides, I really want you to go. It's really... important... that you go, well, to me at least. C'mon, man! It'll be fun!"

Lance paused. He could picture JC on the other end of the line, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, twitching in anticipation of Lance's reply. He knew he would regret this. But... well, JC hardly ever asked him for anything. And he missed being around him. When Lance came back, he'd immersed himself in work thinking that would help him take his mind off what'd happened to him - to them. Or rather, what hadn't happened since Lance so foolhardedly left everything and everyone to run off to the other side of the world to "live out his dream" - he always mentally added the air-quotes.

He came back thinking that somehow he'd be able to work though the pain, or use work as an excuse like he'd done so many times before. But it didn't turn out that way. FreeLance and A Happy Place were really wearing him down and he remembered that just being around JC could make anyone happy. JC was, like, human ecstacy or something. Lance laughed to himself. Maybe instead of calling him "C", he should start calling him "X".

"Ok, X, ok. I'll go. What do you need me to bring? When's our flight?"

JC giggled. "Silly rabbit! We're not flying. There's no airport there. Well, not really. We're driving an RV... from LA. It'll be like we're on tour again! Except, we won't have to deal with Justin's smelly socks. And it'll be an RV, not two buses. And we don't have to sing. And, like, we'd drive ourselves..."

Lance sighed.

"Lance?"

"Yeah?"

"Who's X?"

As soon as Lance hung up from his conversation with JC, he called Joey. It was the middle of the afternoon, but Joey sounded half-asleep.

"Joe? Damn, I'm sorry man, did I wake you up?"

"Nah. Well, yeah, you did. S'ok, I was just napping here with Brianna." Joey's voice practically smiled over the phone as it always did whenever he talked about his daughter.

Lance winced. Yet another thing he'd missed while he was in Russia. Brianna's first steps, which Joey had tried to capture on video, but like enthusiastic dads everywhere pretty much just got the lens cap. By the time Lance got back, she was practically dancing, a career Joey insisted would be unsuitable as he'd already decided she'd be both an accountant (stable) and the president (powerful). Possibly with a short stop at supermodel-dom (she was beautiful afterall).

"Who's drooling on themselves more?" Lance asked. Joey laughed. "I am sorry for waking you up. I just wanted to ask you if you've talked to JC lately?"

"Um... yeah, well, like a couple of days ago? Maybe, three. It was... well, I took Kelly's car in, so Wednesday. Why? Is he okay?"

"He's fine, I think. He's JC. He... well, he asked to me to go this thing with him - Burning Man. Like camping combined with performance art. In, like, Nevada or something. I said I'd got but now...".

"Oh, man. A JC road trip? You're screwed. You're going to be, like, painting in the nude or studying African tree frogs or something."

Lance laughed, "God, I hope not. Well, the frogs might be cool..."

"Nerd."

"Shut up. So I said I'd go."

"Why? Did he, like beg or something? He didn't beg, did he? Dude! Did he beg? He did that to Chris once, it really wasn't pretty."

"No. No begging. I just...".

"Lance, man. If you want to go, go. JC is... well, he makes you happy. We all know that. Just go. You deserve to be a little happy now, let JC make you happy. It's, like, his gift or something."

They got to the Black Rock dessert late in the day after driving for hours - a ride that turned out to be much more pleasant than Lance expected, mostly because JC had brought tapes of some of the songs he'd been working on and he and Lance sang harmonies and made up lyrics. They even made up alternative Justin versions of the lyrics using hiphop slang, or the closest Lance could ever get to it anyway. JC bet him $100 that he could get Justin to believe that "gettin' chap" was the newest slang for getting a blow job. Lance figured it was a no brainer - I mean, someone got him to use "cheese" in a song, so the boy obviously had no shame.

But as they pulled into the parking space they'd been directed to and Lance saw what was going on outside the RV, he instantly regretted giving into JC.

"This is, absolutely without a doubt, the weirdest thing I've ever let you drag me into," Lance said as he pushed the gearshift into park.

"Weirder than the contortionist with the ping pong balls in Lisbon?"

"Ok. Maybe not that weird. But it's early yet."

JC pulled his legs down from their spot draped across the dashboard, tucked the map and directions into the glovebox and sighed. It had taken them a little more than 11 hours to drive from LA, the nearest place they could rent an RV at such a late date. JC'd driven through most of California, with Lance taking over the driving as the afternoon waned and they headed out of the Sierras.

Lance set his shoulders and looked ahead, through the windshield, trying to take in what was going on outside. The sun was just starting to set and he could see that the desert was starting to come to life.

"C..." Lance was so tired and so not willing to rehash this, but being Lance he couldn't let it drop, "... I just. I don't get why you wanted me to come."

He opened his mouth to further his point, but could see that JC wasn't going to be baited into a discussion about his motives and let it drop.

"C'mon," JC patted Lance on the shoulder as he eased himself into the back of the RV, "you're tired. Let's just take a quick walk around, see what's out there, and then get some sleep."

Lance would have preferred to skip the quick walk and head right for sleep. And, God willing, sleep through the next 2 days. At least, he thought, that'd make him really perky for the drive back to LA. He made the mistake of looking into JC's eyes and seeing the flicker of anticipation. He couldn't deny him a short walk, could he?

"Ok. A quick walk."

JC smiled.

They knew it would start getting cold as the sun set, so they grabbed sweatshirts and jackets and JC pulled a woolen cap over his head, pulling it down over his ears and tucking his curls in on the sides. Lance pulled a baseball cap out of his knapsack. They looked like frat boys. Lance had expected to feel out of place this week, but not that out of place.

Four hours later, JC bounded back into the RV. Lance stumbled in behind him, tripping over the last step and nearly falling into the sink.

"Lance! Ohhhh my! Did you see it?! All the lights and the... and the..." JC could barely get the words out. Everything had been so beautiful, so much light and colour and people laughing and dancing and singing and creating art.

Lance tried to smile, but he was tired and a large bruise in the shape of a door handle was beginning to form on his forearm. "It was very colourful, JC. I'm tired. I'm going to bed."

He started walking towards the back of the RV, pulling his sweatshirt over his head.

"Lance?...", JC started.

Lance turned, hair ruffled and arms tangled in the sleeves of the shirt. "Yeah?"

JC walked towards him as if to hug Lance, but stopped short. "Thanks for, uh, coming with me. I.. uh... g'night."

It took Lance a moment to reply. "Goodnight, JC."

When he woke the next morning and made his way to the front of the RV, he found JC already up and pawing through his duffel bag. JC getting up before him was enough to make Lance nervous, but it was what JC was pulling out of the bag that really made his eyebrow start to twitch.

"JC?"

JC was startled. "Oh! Hi! G'morning Lance. Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah, okay I guess. It's warm out, huh?"

JC nodded. "It's nearly noon. It should be really hot during the day, probably close to 100. The instructions said to carry water and sunscreen. I've packed lots of both. Are you hungry? There's lots of food," he pulled open cupboard doors. They were indeed well stocked.

"Nah. Not right now. Just kinda thirsty." Lance pulled a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge. "What they heck is all of that stuff?"

JC had a variety of tubes and bottles and fabric and... god knows what, spread across the table.

"Um... well... you know. We just... we can't just walk around, right? I mean, we don't want people to recognize us. Johnny was worried and well... he wanted to send Lonnie along..."

Lance nearly spit out his water. "Lonnie? Here? In the middle of this? Yeah... no. No way."

JC laughed. "Yeah, that just didn't seem like a good idea. So I told him that we'd just wear disguises. Try to stay low and blend in."

Lance looked out of the RV window in time to see three clowns on stilts walk by, followed in close succession by a male nun on a bicycle and three fully nude, completely bald purple women carrying a cooler. He gulped.

"Uh... what do you mean by "blend in"... um... exactly. Blend it with the normal people, right? You don't have stilts in that bag do you?"

"No, no sti... ah! Here it is!" JC pulled another tube out of the bag.

"What is it?" Lance asked, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Body paint!"

"Body paint?"

"Body paint! Silver!"

Lance took a deep breath. "JC. Please explain to me how you plan to blend in? Exactly."

"We're going to dress up!" JC giggled a little. "I've got an alien costume. And you...".

"Yeeeeessssss....? Me....?"

"Fairy prince."

"FAIRY PRINCE??!!" Lance yelled. "No way! NO WAY!!"

"Aw. Lance. It's good! I have wings and silver shoes and everything. You'll look cool!"

"JC, never in the history of the universe, has a fairy prince ever been cool. No. I won't do it. I'll just wear some of my own clothes and some sunglasses and a hat. No one will recognize me."

"Um... Lance... everything you brought either has FuMan written on it or is next spring's Dolce & Gabbana. You don't own anything inconspicuous. You'll stand out." He had a hint of a whine in his voice.

Lance's expression alternated between pouting and glaring.

"Well, then I'll just stay here. I brought plenty of stuff to read. I'll just read."

JC frowned, "All day? Just ... read?" It wasn't like he'd never done that himself. He'd spent plenty of days and nights just reading in the last few months.

"Yes. Read. All day."

JC took a deep breath and looked like was going to say something, but he didn't.

"Will you at least help me get ready?" he smiled at Lance.

"Sure. I'll help."

JC handed Lance a tube of silver body paint and stripped down to this underwear. He threw back his head and laughed. "Paint me, man. Make me shine!"

Lance couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity this... well, this whole thing. "JC, you already do."

Half an hour later, JC was ready. He shone. He was covered head to toe in silver body paint. Marks from both of their hands were visible in the paint streaks, like JC was some kind of new age, living, fingerpainting. Lance had been nervous about touching JC at first; so nervous his hands shook. But he quickly got the hang of it, JC placing his own hands over Lance's and guiding them over his body, covering Lance up to his elbows in paint.

Even JC's toenails and fingernails were silver - Lance joked that Justin could have done a better job after his viruouso performance in the Gone video - but JC said it wasn't that bad. He had silver glitter gel carefully applied to the tips of each of his curls. Nestled amongst the curls was a set of... well, Lance didn't know what they were called... silver balls bouncing on springs - his antenna, Lance supposed. Slung slow around his hips, they'd fashioned a kind of mini-skirt of silver fabric and on his feet he had silver sandals. Finally, he slid a pair of sunglasses with large black lenses over his eyes. Lance wasn't sure that JC looked like an alien but he was definitely otherworldly.

Lance leaned over the sink to wash the body paint off his hands and forearms when he felt a warm hand on his back.

"Lance?"

"Yeah, JC?" he held his breath. He didn't know why, but it caught in his throat and he couldn't let it go.

"Thanks for coming with me. And for helping with my disguise. I hope you have a good time reading."

He felt JC's warm breath on the back of his neck. His lips... they must be right...

Lance turned around quickly but JC'd already moved away towards the door.

"C?" Lance looked into JC's eyes ... trying desperately to see them through the dark lenses of the sunglasses. "I... will. Don't stay out too long. Be safe." Every instinct in his body told him not to let JC walk out the door, so beg him to stay. To ask him to read with him, to sing with him, to stay. Just, to stay.

JC smiled at Lance and nodded, antennae bobbing over his forehead. He opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight.

Lance read for a while. Boring scripts. Boring contracts. Boring memos from boring people about boring topics. He made himself a sandwich. He listened to his walkman. He napped.

Finally, about six hours later, he heard the RV door open. He bounded into the living area, desperate for human contact.

"JC?! C!..." Lance skidded to a stop in front of the stove.

JC stood in the kitchen, head back, guzzling down a bottle of water. Some escaped his lips and ran down his chin. Lance watched as a drop of that water dripped onto JC's chest where the silver body paint, once so smooth, was now rough with sand. The drop made its way down his chest, changing course as it hit various pieces of the grit that'd blown off the desert floor and swirled around JC all afternoon, finally evaporating somewhere south of JC's left nipple.

JC put the bottle down, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned broadly at Lance. "Lance, it is all just so amazing. There's art and life and joy here." And before Lance knew what was happening, JC kissed him - sweetly, gently and with unmistakable need. It lasted but a moment and when JC broke the kiss his smile was still there and Lance would swear that it was broader than before.

Lance could only nod. He agreed. There was art and life and joy here.

That night, JC and Lance went out again. This time in their more boring frat boy disguises. JC had spent the day checking out the various camps, talking to people and trying to take in as much as he could. He pulled Lance this way and that - to the Boy Scouts camp, where he'd earned a demerit badge in lap dancing (Lance was too scared to ask); to a camp where they played with action figures. Lance almost gave away his cover by asking where his marionette was but JC stopped him in time, admitting he'd asked earlier and was told that they didn't count as "real" action figures.

Many of the camps were just tents strung with lights under which people lay, huddled together, many of them stoned on some drug or other. As much as Lance was starting to get into this, he didn't understand the appeal of that.

They must have walked for miles and it wasn't until they were heading back to their RV that Lance realized he'd been holding JC's hand the whole time.

In the morning, Lance woke up before JC. He went into the kitchen and looked at the things JC'd brought for his costume. Where JC shone, Lance, it seemed, would glitter. Clarification... he'd be PINK and glittery. What was JC thinking? Why couldn't he have come up with a powerful Hollywood executive costume? Probably because it would entail Lance dressing up as a giant asshole. He smirked. Some days he thought he was well on his way there.

By the time JC stumbled out of bed and started his shower, Lance was already half covered in glitter. Lance and most of the RV, since it was impossible to put on himself without also providing sufficient coverage to everything in a five foot radius.

JC soon joined him, helping Lance put on his wings. "There! Now you're all fairy-like! Ready to fly."

"I thought I was a fairy prince, JC? I got the fairy... I think I've got more fairy than necessary maybe. I've got fairy dust in really uncomfortable places to prove it. But how does this make me a prince?"

"We need to put on your crown, man." JC pulled some thin garland out of the bottom of the bag. It was gold, with little foil stars and moons hanging off the thin wire. Carefully he started wrapping it around Lance's head to form a crown.

JC stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Pretty princely." Meaning, of course, pretty and princely.

Lance touched the crown with the tips of his fingers, feeling it twined around his hair and brushing the tops of his ears. He couldn't help but smile and as he did, JC leaned forward and kissed him gingerly on the cheek.

"I think I should get ready now," JC said.

Lance stared at him and considered how he could ready himself.

"... and that was how I ended up in the middle of the Nevada desert dressed as a fairy prince," thought Lance.

JC stirred and looked up at Lance.

He whispered, "Lance, man... you're crushing your wing...". He sat up and pulled Lance forward, carefully straightening the wire in the wing and smoothing the fabric. He rearranged himself so he sat crosslegged, his knee touching Lance's. JC looped his arm through Lance's crooked elbow and laid his head on Lance's shoulder.

Lance batted away JC's antennae and they sprang back and hit him on his right cheek. "C, do ya think maybe you could take these things off? They're kinda... distracting," he said gently in JC's ear.

"No way. I can't be an alien without antennae!"

"You're really committed to this alien thing, huh?"

"Yes. I think I'm a good alien. At least... my costume looks good, right?"

"Very authentic," answered Lance, as if he actually knew. Hell, it was Chris who was the X-Files fan.

JC hugged Lance's arm tighter, "I think you make a good fairy prince, too."

Lance smiled and felt JC shiver. "Cold? You don't really have much on. Do you want to go back to the RV? Maybe put some more clothes on?" He hoped JC would agree. He was getting cold himself and just... kinda... he wanted JC to himself. For what, he didn't know, he just wanted to sit next to him and hold his hand and be alone with him.

JC shivered again. "I'm getting cold. But we have to stay here. It's almost time."

Lance didn't know what JC was talking about. They'd wandered around all day, the fairy prince and the alien. Just when Lance thought they'd seen it all - both in theme camps and weird behaviour - there was something else around the next corner to prove him wrong.

It was, Lance realized, a place where a group of people had created a community. A place where art and expression and thought mattered but where money and fame really didn't. He understood why JC wanted to come, but he still couldn't figure out why JC wanted him to come.

Pretending that it was an absentminded body heat generating move, Lance wrapped his arm around JC's waist, pulling him close to his side, and rubbed his hand back and forth. JC was as thin as he appeared but he wasn't in any way fragile. His body was solid - muscle and tendon, tightly wound. Lance's own body wasn't as solid as it appeared, but he was thinner than most imagined.

They sat that way for what seemed to Lance to be hours, JC gradually relaxing under the weight of Lance's arm, their breathing becoming synchonized.

Suddenly, everyone started to move, getting up from where they lay, poked awake by others laying next to them.

"What's going on?" Lance whispered into JC's ear. "Where's everyone going?"

"It's time," answered JC. He stood and pulled Lance up. "Let's go."

They followed everyone out of the tent and in the general direction of the large glowing Burning Man erected in the middle of all the camps. Lance and JC had visited it during their walk yesterday, so Lance knew it was piled high around the base with other people's artwork and sculpture. Lance also knew that the highlight of the festival was the burning of all this artwork and the large Man sculpture itself. This must have been what JC was waiting for.

Large groups of people joined them in heading towards the Burning Man. But as they got closer, JC grabbed his hand and started pulling him away from everyone else.

"Don't you want to see this, C? I thought you...".

JC stopped and put his finger over Lance's lips. "Shhhh. We'll see it. But I want to watch from over there." He removed his finger and pointed towards a spot out on the desert. Lance followed JC's finger but just saw empty darkness.

When they arrived at the spot JC'd pointed to a few minutes earlier, Lance saw that it wasn't empty. JC had set up a sort of picnic. There was a blanket spread out with pillows to sit on. A basket of food and drinks sat next to the blanket.

JC leaned down and lit a series of candles that lay scattered around the edges of the blanket, then stood up, smiled at Lance and motioned for him to sit on blanket. Lance sat where indicated.

Before JC joined Lance, he pulled some blankets out of one of the baskets and draped them over Lance. He pulled them over his own lap as he sat.

"Hungry?" he asked. "There's, like, food and stuff in the baskets."

Lance was slightly unsure how to reply. He'd been with JC all day - how could he have gotten the food here? He imagined JC in hushed conversations with some kind of illicit new age hippie food perveyor.

"Um, not really. Just... maybe something to drink."

JC handed him a bottle of water. "There's just water. I didn't think to pack anything else. I forgot."

"S'okay. Thanks." Lance unscrewed the cap and took a swig. "JC, this is really... it's great. You went to a lot of trouble." Lance felt like maybe he'd finally be getting an explanation of why JC wanted him to come so badly.

"Yeah, well. Um, it wasn't too much trouble. I just paid this guy to bring it here in time. And, like, packed it. And, like bought some extra blankets because I didn't really have any that... Yeah, Lance. I just really wanted it to be good."

"Why? Why, JC? Why is it so import..." Lance's question was interrupted by a bright explosion of light in front of him. His jaw dropped.

JC grabbed Lance's hand. "They're burning it now."

Lance nodded slowly. They watched in silence for a few minutes before Lance remembered what he'd been saying.

He stood, a blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, wings pinched and twisted underneath. He pulled JC up. Lance held both of JC's hands in his and, with the light of the fire burning to his left side, looked JC in the eyes.

"JC. I love this. I love that you thought of this. I love... I know it hasn't been that much of a vacation here with me... I've been... difficult. I am not, I think, a very good fairy prince."

JC tried to say something, but Lance silenced him with a squeeze of his right hand.

"C, I'm not asking because I'm mad. I just... I know why you would want to come here. I think this is a great place and a great time and it's so very very... you. But me? Why me, JC? Why me? Why here?"

JC just stood for a few moments, hours it seemed to Lance. He stared at the fire for a few seconds, then looked around, finally settling his gaze back on Lance who tried to keep his face as neutral and impassive as possible while inside he felt turmoil.

"Lance..." JC started... "I think... look." He dropped Lance's hand and gestured around them. To the fire blazing in the distance, lighting up half the night sky. To the other side where the desert stretched bare and dry into the distance, meeting up some miles later with a small range of mountain foothills. JC pointed upward, to the clear night sky, all the stars visible and brightly burning. His hand came to rest on Lance's cheek.

"I know you were sad when the whole space thing happened, man. I know you wanted to go so badly. It was your dream and you worked hard to make it come true. I understand about making dreams happen, Lance. I know what it means when they do."

Lance blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek, dampening JC's fingers. He bent his head and stared at his feet.

"I just... I thought that if you couldn't go into space... I could..." he paused and chewed on his bottom lip. "This place, man. Look at it. It's like... I think it's like the moon. I wanted to... I brought you to the moon." He laughed and almost winced as the words left his mouth.

Blinking back more tears, Lance looked up at JC. He suddenly realized that JC was dressed as an alien. He laughed. He couldn't stop laughing. He laughed so hard that he had to sit down.

JC knelt next to him, looking concerned and a little wounded. "Lance? Lance, I didn't mean for it to be funny... Are... Lance?"

Lance gasped for air, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his hand and tried to look at JC as soberly as possible.

"C, it's.. it's not ... well, it kind of is... but it's not bad funny. It's... it... aw, C. It's so... You're an alien. And this is the moon!" He barely spit it out before being overcome by another giggling fit.

JC gingerly touched the antennae bobbing over his forehead. "Well, yeah. I mean... it's the moon and I figured... well, I figured you'd want to see aliens if you went into space."

He paused. "Lance, do you think I'm... well, do you... it's dumb, huh?

Lance suddenly stopped laughing. "No," he said, very seriously. "JC. No. Not... dumb at all. Maybe the smartest thing you've ever done."

JC's brow unfurrowed and he began to smile. "Good!" he cried as he lept up from the blanket. "Good! Because I am an alien and this is the moon!" He danced around the desert as Lance watched him in amazement.

It was love.

Well, fuck.

Thanks to Jenny, Charlie and Casey for red hot beta action; to Diana for saving my HTML butt ... and Diet Coke for being the nectar of the gods.

Burning Man takes place every August/ September in the Nevada desert north of Reno.
Read "What is Burning Man?" to find out more.