Every Little Thing I Do

By Mahka

Published on Aug 11, 2000

Gay

Howdy! Yes, the second installment is here. Thanks to the TWO people who responded to me! Remember, I do need feedback! Even though they say writers write for themselves, I also want to entertain people. That's why I love being on stage so much. So E-mail me! NCC1701DS9@aol.com. IM me too, whatever you want! There's still no sex in this part, but as any relationship develops, especially romantic ones, there will be sex in some other installment. I hope to get one or two more out before school starts and therefore stopping my writing for long periods of time. When that happens, I'll send out a notice, but that doesn't mean that I'll never write again. But this story will end, hopefully, somewhere down the line. Otherwise I'll be writing forever and ever and run into a million writer's blocks! :-) And applicable to this and all following issues: as much as I try to stick to proper fact, I am allowed to bend facts and reality to fit the story. That's my perogative for being a fiction writer! Oh, and those that contact me get a special heads-up mailing telling them when they can expect a new installment!

And as usual, various disclaimers here. This is a FICTIONAL story involving the band NSync, specifically member Lance Bass. I do not know NSync in any way, shape, or fashion with the exception of what I can get off of fan pages, their official site, various interviews, and the like. I do not know the sexual orientations of any members, although a guy can dream, can't he? :-) I do not claim to know the personalities of any member of Nsync either.

If you're part of Nsync, please e-mail me! If you're not, e-mail me anyway! Like I said, this is my first, and I'd like some feedback about writing style or anything before I continue.

Oh, legal disclaimer. As usual, if you are offended by homosexual relationships, or are under 18 or the legal age in your area, or your local laws/customs do not permit the reading of such material, then don't continue, although this section contains no sex. GASP! Yes, I'm not one for writing porn stories. This is (hopefully!) a real story with emotions beyond passion. If those rules apply to you, then don't get caught reading this if you do decided to go on and read it.

I must say thanks to two authors who have inspired me to write a story of my own. They are ScottyT who wrote Lance in Shining Armour (excellent story, a must read!) and Mirrors (another excellent story), and Darren LeVanelle who is writing Everything I Said (great work in progress) and Hearts Out of Sync. Those aside, enjoy! And remember, feedback please!

I headed home finally after standing in the parking lot for ten minutes. I felt like a fool, but felt a surge of excitement that I hadn't felt before. Driving home, I felt myself drift into a daze. Not a good thing to do on 202, espcially not during the beginning of rush hour while it was under construction. I finally made it home, in one piece, and entered the house.

"Hey mom! I'm home!" I shouted out. The radio in the kitchen blared oldies. I heard no reply, so I headed to the basement, where I knew she worked sometimes. You couldn't hear anything upstairs in the basement, especially if the radio was on. I turned the various corners and headed into the basement. Yup, there she was, working away in her little office. My own "office" was upstairs, and a total mess with college mail on the floor. Don't try to enter it if you don't have perfect balance.

"Hey!" I walked toward the door. She finally looked up.

"Oh, hi! Did you have fun at the mall?" She always had a habit of asking me everything about my various trips and social outings. Parties, rehearsals, anything.

"Yeah. Hey, do you mind if we have a guest tonight?"

That caught her off guard. Since when did I ask if we could have guests overnight? I prayed that she wouldn't object.

"Uh, who is it?" Typical question.

"Well, at the mall I happened to run into Lance Bass of Nsync, and..."

"Who?" She wasn't very well versed on the pop music scene. It's ok, I still love her though! "Who's Lance what's his name?"

"He's one of the members of Nsync, you know, the group that I've been learning the dance to? They're in Philly for concerts, and he was up at the mall shopping, and I ran into him. I didn't know who he was at first, but then I finally got it. And he was wondering if I wouldn't mind lettting him stay over since I sort of ruined his shopping and they're staying in New York and he wants to go to the mall tomorrow." That was an outright lie. Well, maybe not a complete lie, but I was the one who asked him if he wanted to stay over. It wasn't like I had never lied to my mother before, so I was usually able to pull off little things like this. As long as I didn't have to create a big cover up later, I'd be fine.

"Yeah, I guess. You're going to have to help me make the bed in the guest room. What time is he coming?"

"Well, he just left for the concert. Sarah and I talked to him and everything, it was so cool. He's so nice. Anyway, yeah, the concert's at seven, and he said he probably wouldn't be done until about nine or so, and then add in the traffic and everything getting out here, so probably nine-thirty or ten."

"That late? Ok, then I have time for everything then. You don't have to pick him up do you?"

"No!" I laughed. "They do have limo drivers!"

"Ok, then in that case I guess it's fine then."

Awesome! I had gotten my mom to agree to house a pop star and what was possibly developing into a romantic interest.

"Thanks mom! Love you!" I headed back up the stairs and into my own study. I powered up my laptop and connected it to the net. Yay, AOL. Fun fun. For all you AOL users out there, do you have the same peeves about it? The fact that no matter what speed modem you say you have, you can never connect at that speed? Or the random bootings...I dread that word, you know it. "Goodbye!" It sometimes comes at the most inoppurtune moments. Argh! Or the fact that it's so SLOW! Ok, well, enough on my rants about AOL. I guess they just need to improve their server. Yeah, in about, oh, 3 years, when they have twice as many users and it can finally handle today's users! Well, like I said, enough about that.

I read through my mail. Well, first I deleted all the random spam that came through. Lowest car prices! See your dick in a college girl's cunt! Ooo yeah, I really want to go to those sites! I'm not even out of high school yet! Give me a break! With the deletes out of the way, I finally had a chance to read my mail - my legitimate mail. My daily joke subscriptions, daily trivia facts, some hellos from friends across the country, a few of those personal surveys that take an hour to read and two to fill out.

I finally came to the last piece of mail, which I had noticed was from my friend in Idaho. He rarely sends out mail...well, he does, but it's always mass mailings. And the subject line was weird. The Real Phantoms. Hmm. But I had saved it for last. After all, it was the last piece of mail in my mail box, and I read things chronologically.

It began with a brief introduction, about how he had written it earlier and just wanted it to be out there for other people to read. Then I started into the main body of the mail, reading.

The True Phantoms. <unabridged, no editing done>

by Neo <name changed for privacy. If you wish to contact the author, please e-mail me for his e-mail address.>

In the early twentieth century a master of literature wrote the story of a man. A man cursed from birth with a horrid appearance and a brilliant mind. A man known to the masses as The Phantom. There are those that believe his story to be fact and others fiction. I am not here to persuade you one way or the other in his story. I am here to tell you that there are Phantoms among us. Phantoms of whom I am one. Now we don't live under opera houses or on the banks of underground lakes, As a mater of fact you might not even recognize us as what we are. For on the outside, unlike The Phantom of old, most of us appear to be normal. But I guarantee you this is not the case for just as Erik did we have lived lives with the hope of love but never the attaining of it.. We are the "good friends", the "good guys", we are even the geeks. But call us what you may we are in truth the Phantoms. Now some of you may be wondering how we are phantoms when we don't look or live like Erik of old did. Let me explain now just how we are phantoms. i will use my story for it is the one i am most acquainted with. I was born late one night late in November of 1981. I wasn't horridly deformed like Erik was and my mother never knew she held a Phantom in the making. When I was two I was diagnosed with epilepsy and for 12 more years of my life I was cursed by it. My body held a brilliant mind and a unique personality but i was labeled. I was "The Kid". You know who I mean. The target kid the one picked last and picked on first, The one Beaten. The one Mocked for being different and called ugly and weak because he couldn't fight back.. For 14 years that was my life. I was a child of one friend and even he was taken away from me. And yet I got lucky, or so i thought. I grew out of my difference, my epilepsy. I had won the battle with Epilepsy but had already lost the war with life. I was labeled. my psyche was scared, my self confidence destroyed and to top it off I hadn't lost a curse as i had thought I had traded curses. I changed from the weird one to the ugly one for I was cursed by the plague called acne. not only that but now that I didn't have epilepsy My emotions now worked fully so i felt everything, every cutting remark, every off hand comment, every thing I felt like a knife. For all my life I had wanted a woman to love me. To see past my horrid exterior and demented reputation into my soul. To see what was inside. To see the diamond in the ruff. Several times i thought I had found her. i thought I found the one with the magic eyes to see beyond the exterior into the interior. i thought that finally my life had taken an upward turn. Little did I know then that all that would happen is I would in the end be driven lower then before. One by one these women looked me in the eye and told me they cared for me, and one by one I saw them all shatter to reveal the truth of lies behind it. They didn't love me. I've realized they just pitied me as one would a bird with a broken wing. Now i don't tell you this to make you pity me or my fellow Phantoms, because you will envy us i guarantee it. We will own all the land, we will own all the airways, we will even own the places you live in. Oh yes we will be richer than Midas himself, but you will always have more than we. Though you live in a shack and starve you will have more. You will have love. You will have the universe in a pair of eyes, the treasure of a thousand Midas' in a clasped hand. So do this for we Phantoms. Take your loved one and in your arms and kiss them. And if someone loves you but you are afraid of what it might mean, Go after them,. For they will bring you a wealth beyond Rubies or pearls. They will bring you love. Farewell and give the one you love a hug and cherish the thought that you are not a Phantom.

I finished the piece with a sudden change of heart. Here I was, thinking that my life was perfect, when out there there were many people who's lives were not perfect. Actually, I knew that my life wasn't perfect. The only difference was that I never had enough time to dwell on the issues that it brought up, not with school and the insane amount of work they piled on us. Not easy being an honor student, and it certainly wasn't possible to think too much. It had to be all academic thinking, and during free time, you had to get out and have fun, otherwise you'd have a break down. Trust me. Myself and two other friends, Sarah being one of them, nearly suffered from one at the exact same time. Crazy I tell you.

Between reading mail, replying to mail, and random IM conversations, the time had flown. It was nearly seven, close to dinner time. But I didn't care. I was too busy thinking about the message that Neo had sent. How the one I loved wasn't a phantom. The more I thought about it, the more it hurt. The one I did love wasn't a phantom. He was out there, a superstar, physically perfect, making me feel at ease, comfortable. And yet I thought about Neo. He was still a friend, and the way he described the phantom person, I felt like I belonged in that group. The more I thought, the more I believed that. Hence, the danger in thinking.

No way can a non-phantom love a phantom, is there? And if anything, I didn't want to get into that type of thing and make Neo feel worse. My IMs started to go unanswered, my eyes becoming unfocused as I stared at the screen. I couldn't go through the rest of the day like this. It just felt wrong somehow. I wanted love, but I didn't know where I could get it. I was finally shaken out of my reverie by the sound of my mother's footsteps coming up the stairs, and the slam of the basement door. I checked the computer clock quickly. 7:28 PM. Wow, had I just been sitting there for nearly half an hour? I looked at my IMs piled up on top of each other. Almost all ended with the same line: "you there?" Oops. I quickly typed in a response, the basic one, that I had been aftk, and now I had to go. I signed off, and walked out of the study toward the kitchen. I could hear the sounds of a meal being prepared.

"So what's for dinner?" My usual question. So I'm predictable. Gimme a break.

Without turning from the sink, my mom answered "Sweet and sour fish. Get the onions and ginger from the fridge."

Yay. I could greet my new friend with fishy breath. Luckily the way she prepared it got rid of any fishy smell. Besides, it was one of my favorite dishes.

Thirty minutes later everything was done, and we sat down to eat. We occasionally spoke at the table, but usually we ate in semi-silence, listening to the radio with interspersed conversation. I was usually engrossed in a magazine. We finished off near 8:20, and as usual, I cleared the table, wiped it down, wrapped up any leftovers, and put away various cooking materials like the onions and ginger I had taken out earlier. That was the way each night was scheduled. Hell, make that every meal. It was routine, except when we went out to eat, and when she didn't cook. Those nights were easiest. No cleaning to do save for the table, and almost everything was either thrown out or refrigerated.

It was close to 8:45 when the phone rang. I grabbed the hands-free phone with the headset, put it on, and hit the talk button. I love these things. You can do all sorts of things and still talk on the phone, and not get a sore neck. Best invention in a while!

"Hello?" I clipped the phone to my pocket, and continued to do clean up.

"Hey, wassup!" came a bright and cheery voice. Sarah, my dear old friend.

"Nothin' much. Just cleaning up after dinner. You?"

"Ah, nothing too important. In that case, I'll let you go and talk to you later, k?" She always did that, never trying to interfere with other people's lives. But she had become a good friend over the years, and I didn't care.

"Nah, don't worry about it. Besides, I'm using one of those hand-less models, so it doesn't matter."

"Oh cool! Anyway, I was just wondering what's up, and all that jazz." She always knew how to brighten my day. My summer had been extremely socially inadequate, hence the reason why I was able to think, and dig myself into funny ditches here and there. I finished wiping the table, tossed the rag to my mom, and headed out of the kitchen, back towards the study and my computer.

"Actually, something pretty cool," I replied.

"Really? What?"

"Lance is staying at my house for the night."

"REALLY?! No way!"

"Yeah. I asked him back at the mall after we got coffee since I managed to ruin his shopping."

"And he accepted? That's way too cool."

"Yup. But hey, do me a favor and not tell everyone and their brother and cousins and uncles twice removed please? I don't want phone calls til 4 AM! I want to make his stay as normal as I can."

"Sure, can do." When she said that, I knew I could trust her. She never told people what you didn't want repeated. That's what made her such a great friend. But I still hadn't told her everything. Hell, nobody knew everything about me. But I'm sure if they all got together they'd have a pretty accurate picture of me.

We chatted a bit longer, the clock flipping past 9:15, about random stuff, life in general, new gossip from the music department. Finally at about 9:30, I told her I had to go. A lie, but I wanted to get off the phone in case Lance tried to call. I was a bit excited, but I didn't want her to catch it in my voice. She had become extremely well versed in detecting slight changes, as I had in detecting her changes. That's the problem when you become such close friends.

I hung up the phone - figuratively...pressing a button? - and headed down the stairs. In the course of the conversation I had managed to wander around the house, and ended up in my room. Don't ask why, I just do that. I had reached the landing, a whole two feet off the ground floor, when the phone rang again. I hit the TALK button, waited for the signal to connect, and answered.

"Hello?" Ok, so I'm boring! I'm afraid of answering any other way since my mom uses the same line for her business, otherwise I'd answer with something better. Say, "City Morgue", "Digame," (spanish!) or something more creative.

"Hey, it's..."

"Lance! Hey! What up?" Oh yeah, I also have some funny phrases, but I wouldn't call it ghetto talk. Not a chance in hell. I don't have the skills or the vocabulary to pull that type of stuff off.

"How'd you know it was me? And how'd you pick up in like half a ring?" came an amused reply.

"Oh, well, ya know, I've just got this mental connection and I knew you were going to call before the phone actually rang and..." I babbled for a bit, and I heard a grin through the phone.

"Really..."

"Yeah. No, of course not! First, I recognized your voice and second, I have a phone right on me in easy access."

"Anyway, I just wanted to call, hoping it wasn't too late, and let you know that we got held up here at the venue. Some fans got out before we did and are blocking the road for the buses, so we can't get out right now. Security tried to get them to move, but they won't move unless we spend a day with them tomorrow, so we've called the cops."

"Why don't you spend the day with them?"

"Hel-lo...the rest of the guys are overnighting in New York remember? And do we really want to spend a day with freaking out fans? All those contests, spend a day with Nsync? We hate them. The stations always choose the most fanatic of fans who want to know what type of underwear we have on. We've never had a normal winner who treated us like people."

"Oh, right." I mentally chided myself for my lack of foresight. "So what time do you think you're gonna be getting in?"

"That's what I'm unsure about right now. Since I don't need the bus I can sneak out a side entrance, but I don't want to leave the guys alone, and the cops are having a hard time getting here because of the traffic."

Aww...group loyalty. Now if we just had some of that cohesion in our groups, we'd be much better off. My mind went back to the piece that Neo had written as I thought about Lance.

"Well then, in that case, just gimme a call when you guys are finally clear, k?"

"Sure, sounds good. And Mark, something wrong?"

Whoa! He did NOT just pick up on that extremely subtle change in voice tone, did he? It took years for Sarah and Kat, another friend of mine, to develop that. And that was years of seeing each other every day for at least two or three hours.

"Huh? Oh, no. Sorry...just a bit worn out from the day." Another lie. Why did I have to lie to him? Couldn't I just open up and admit anything? I admitted very little about myself to anyone. And yet I knew that if I really wanted to develop bonds, I'd have to open up.

"Oh, ok, alright then." He said that, but he didn't sound very convinced. "Then I'll call you later?"

"Sure. Talk to you later."

"See ya," ::CLICK::

I heard the sound of silence return to my ear. I was using the headset phone, which is why I could hear the silence and...anyway. But it was silence. And silence usually isn't totally unbearable for me. I can usually stand it. In fact, I live with it a lot. True, the radio is on all the time, but that was recorded sound, produced in a studio. I meant silence as in lack of communication, the lack of human contact. I didn't spend hours on the phone like some other people. And although I spent much of my time online with a buddy list with over a hundred people listed, those hours were still spent alone or with just one or two IMs. And those IMs were always very short, superficial. I needed someone to get my head on straight, but I couldn't find anyone.

I wanted to talk about what I had learned from my day with Lance - my sexuality. I had yet to decide if this was just a fluke or if I was truly bi. By this point I had figured out that there was no way I could be considered truly gay. I still glanced at women, and a few of them turned me on, but some men had the same effect on me. Hence, I had to figure it out. The only person I knew who could possibly help me through it all happened to live in California, three time zones away. I returned to my computer and signed on hoping that she would be on. After nearly a minute of waiting for the sign on process to finish (yay AOL), I saw the Welcome window. No mail, which was partially expected. I had just finished it about two or three hours ago. I looked to the right, scanning my buddy list. She wasn't on. In fact, only one other person was on. How depressing. Ten o'clock at night, prime time to be online. There was even the chance that I would find people in the later time zones on as well, but no, there was only one person on. And not only that, it was someone I usually didn't talk to.

The radio finished its run of commercials, and the DJ returned. After a few introductory remarks and phone calls from Nsync fans, he announced the next song. "This is new music from Nsync, This I Promise You." (OK, so I messed up the flow of the time line a bit. Any fan should know that TIPY wasn't released as a single until about a week after the tour was over. I needed it, ok? :-) And besides, it's FICTION! ~Mahka)

I listened to the song across the space between the kitchen and study. I had heard the song several times already on the CD, both my own and my friend's. But I had dismissed it as just a sappy ballad, which I usually couldn't stand. But I stopped and listened this time, listening to the lyrics and to the music. I've known that the music can really convey the lyrics from my many, many years in music, but it wasn't until now that I really understood it.

The first few bars began, keyboards topped with an acoustic guitar, and someone's voice humming along in the upper register. My that was high! Even though I myself was a tenor, I found it high. Hopefully it was done using falsetto! Then the lyrics began, with a voice I recognized to be Justin's.

When the visions around you

Bring tears to your eyes,

And all that surround you

Are secrets and lies.

I'll be your strength

I'll give you hope,

Keeping your faith when it's gone.

The one you should call

Was standing here all along.

And I will take you in my arms

And hold you right where you belong,

'Til the day my life is through

This I promise you,

This I promise you.

(Richard Marx (C) 2000, JIVE)

The song continued on its course as I sat listening. And I realized that the song was voicing what I wish I had. I wanted to have some one that would say something like that to me, and vice versa. Some one to care for me, and for me to care about. Beyond just friendship, something more intimate. The music swelled up into the bridge, returned to a gentle instrumental, and then went into its cliché key change. But for once I didn't mind the key change. I found it to be fitting. I continued to listen, just sitting there until it reached its end, dying away. The station went through it's little advertisement for itself, and then jumped into Matchbox20's "Bent."

But I didn't care, and I wasn't listening anymore, even though I knew the message in the song. I was too busy thinking about Lance and what I felt. I wished my friend was online, but she wasn't. How could I expect her to be on at 7 her time? But before I could confront Lance with those feelings, I had to make sure I was certain about myself. And that wouldn't happen right away. For some reason, I thought that I would get the same type of treatment and counseling from Lance, but I knew that that wouldn't work, not this time. Maybe some other time, but not now, this situation. It was late, and therefore rude to call anyone up, even though I had received many a call late at night over some impossible math homework or something. But there was no homework to do, Sarah's mom had issues with late callers, and my other good friend was away.

Finally someone I usually talked to signed on, and I shook myself from my thoughts as I chatted. Along with that, I started going through some sites, reading up on various news. The power of the internet. MTv already had the story about girls blocking the tour buses up. Wow that was fast. I checked the dateline on the story, noting that they even gave the time on this article. It was about 15 minutes old. Shit. I guess that meant Lance wasn't coming home any time soon. I could call him now, but I figured he'd call if there was trouble. I'd just wait it out, knowing that he would call when they were finally free.

I spent the next thirty minutes randomly chatting. The phone finally rang at 11:30. I stabbed at the TALK button on the phone, headset having never come off of my head.

"Yello."

"Hey! Just wanted to let you know that they FINALLY got those freaks out of the road, and the bus is about to leave."

"Cool, took 'em long enough!"

"Yeah. Anyway, management had a fit when I told them I wasn't going to overnight in New York, but I told them they couldn't control every single aspect of my life."

"Geez, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to cause any trouble!" I was seriously worried for a moment. I didn't want to ruin his career. "How 'bout the other members?"

"Oh, they're fine with it. We all take random side trips all the time." He chuckled a bit. "We may be like brothers, but we ARE still independent!"

"Hee hee. What did they think of you staying with a guy?"

"Actually, I didn't tell them that. I guess they assumed it was on my own in a hotel or something so I could go sleep with some girl. But that's what Justin and JC do, not me! I think that's disgusting." Really? What did he do on his nights out? But I kept the question out of my voice, and continued with the conversation.

"Ah, ok. So how long you think it'll take for you to get out here?"

"Uh, let's say about an hour? There's still a crowd out here and a good deal of traffic."

Wow, that gave him an ETA of 12:30. I'm sure my mom would be thrilled.

"Alright, then I'll let you go so you can get to your limo, k? We'll be up." Hopefully, I added in my head. My head was beginning to swim since I had gotten up rather early in the morning. 10 AM, which usually isn't early, but for me during the summer, it was. Especially after getting to bed at 4 the night/morning? before.

"Alright, I'll see you in a few. I'll call if we have problems or get lost!" I could hear the grin through his voice. "Bye!"

"Adios!"

I hit TALK again, just in time to hear footsteps come clumping up the stairs.

"Was that what's his name?" asked my mom.

"Lance, and yup. He says that he'll be here in about an hour or so, about 12:30."

"Ok..." I heard the doubt in her voice. Told you she wouldn't be happy! "I'll go make the bed."

"Alright," I turned back to the computer.

"You're not helping?"

"Huh? Oh, fine." I said goodbye to my friend, signed off, and closed the cover to turn on the power save feature. We walked upstairs, and started making the bed, working in silence. Fifteen minutes later, we were finished.

"I'm going to take a shower, ok?" asked my mom.

"Ok, fine. But you want Lance to see you in your PJs?"

"No. You're letting him in, and I'm going to sleep!"

"Oh, ok. Alright, well then, g'nite! Oh, I'll be up about 9 tomorrow so we can head to the mall, ok?"

"Fine. I'm up early anyway. Good night." She gave me a kiss and hug, and headed off to her room, closing the doors.

I decided that it was late enough for me to take out my contacts, since I had put them in relatively early, and did so. I headed back to the computer to wait. Still no one was on, and time practically crawled along. Finally at about 12:20 the doorbell rang.

I jumped from my chair, ran to the garage door to unarm the alarm system, and headed back to the front door. Deadbolt slid back, and I opened the door to find nothing. I doubted I was hearing things, although at 12:22 AM, it was possible.

"Hello?" I called out to the darkness. Any later and the porch light would turn itself off. "Hello?!" I looked around for any sign of anything, and giving up, I started to close the door.

"Hey! Wait up!"

I yanked the door back open.

"Lance! Where'd you go?"

"You took such a long time getting to the door, so I went back around to the other door, and..."

"Oh, sorry. Come on in! Why am I keeping you out there? You have bags?"

"Yeah, lemme go run and get them." He started to turn and go, but I called out to him.

"Wait, come in and we'll go out through the garage door. That way you don't have to go through the yard."

"Alright," and with that, he stepped in. I had a celebrity inside my house! How cool was that? But I kept my calm, not wanting him to think that everything up to this point had been an act. It hadn't been, but I was still excited. I led him to the back through the house. My mom would be thrilled with the fact that he had left his shoes on, but I figured it was just a short walk, and he wasn't walking on carpet.

He headed outside, grabbed his bags, and sent the driver off. He returned inside, and after closing the door, I armed up the alarm system.

"You want me to take off my shoes?" he asked, motioning to the pile of shoes in the mud room and my sock-clad feet.

"Yeah, if you don't mind."

"No problem. Actually, the floor's clean right? I usually either go around in shoes or bare feet."

I laughed. "Yeah, it's more or less clean! But it might be cold!" I warned.

"That's ok," he replied as he undid his shoe laces and stepped out of them. He proceeded to shed his socks as well, then stepped onto the linoleum floor of the kitchen.

"Oh! That's cold!" he yelped, jumping back onto the rug in the mud room.

"Told you!" I said, laughing. "You want slippers instead?" I felt like I was with an old friend, even though it was only about 10 hours long.

"Yeah, thanks." I reached into the closet and brought out a pair of our many hotel slippers. The type that match the robe, complete with hotel logo monogrammed on it.

"Nice slippers," he commented.

"Shush you. My dad used to travel a lot and would bring them home after each trip," I replied as I led him toward his room.

"Ah. Nice pictures," he said, motioning to the pictures of me on the wall. All my yearbook pictures framed, from K through 11. I hadn't ordered my graduation picture yet.

"Yeah," I replied, blushing a bit. "Anyway, this is your room." I walked in and turned on the sole light in the room.

"Oo, I get my own room? Cool!" He set his bags down and sat down on the bed. "Comfortable. I think I'll sleep well tonight! The other guys won't be getting to the hotel until 1 or 2! Sucks for them!" He laughed a bit.

"Yeah, you're lucky." I walked out of the room, and he stood to follow me. "And this is the bathroom, which you'll have to share with me. Sorry we couldn't offer you a private bath either."

"That's ok. I think we were supposed to share rooms tonight, so I'm glad I'm here!"

"Yeah, anyway, towels are on your bed. I think we should head out to the mall at about ten tomorrow?"

"Sounds cool. What are you up to now?"

"Well, I need my beauty sleep, so I'm going to grab a shower and go to bed. You can use the sink while I'm in the shower since there's that inner door."

"Cool. See you tomorrow then?"

"Alright," I replied as we headed into our own rooms. We were right across from each other, but it was private enough. I grabbed my pajamas and walked out the door at the same time Lance did.

"Oh, you need to use the bathroom first?" I asked. After all, the toilet and shower were in the same half of the bath room.

"Nah, I can wait."

"Alright."

I headed in, shut and locked the door, and started the shower. I heard the sink start up in the other half and felt the water temperature change. Damn pipes. Ten minutes later, I was done, dried, changed, and headed out the door.

"You taking a shower?" I asked him. He was busy shaving, shirt off.

"Yeah! You think I can sleep with this?" he turned to me and motioned to his hair with a look of horror on his face. I laughed, and headed out of the bathroom, tossing a "g'nite" over my shoulder.

"'Nite!" he responded as I shut my door.

I sat on my bed and pondered what had transpired. The look of Lance without his shirt on had turned me on greatly, and I was getting aroused. Luckily he was too distracted and my PJs were loose and concealing for him to notice. I got up, turned on the radio and set it to 'sleep', turned off one of the lights. I grabbed a magazine and tried to read, but my mind was a whir of thoughts and I found myself focusing not on the page but rather somehwere either in front or behind it. Lance made me feel so comfortable, so at ease. But he also made me horny. I heard the shower start up, and unbidden, thoughts of a naked Lance in the next room popped into my head. I tried to shake them out, but they weren't leaving. Frustrated, I turned down the volume of the radio, turned out the light, and climbed into my unmade bed, setting my glasses on the bookshelf next to my bed.

I tossed and turned a good deal, thoughts about Lance and myself running through my head. I heard the shower shut off, leaving me in relative quiet as I struggled to hear the radio. I finally drifted off to sleep, but just before I did, I could have sworn Lance opened my door and looked in on me. But I wrote it off to those hallucinations that come just before sleep, and drifted off into nothingness.

Next: Chapter 3


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