Welcome to "Lance's Search," a multi-chapter exploration of a young man discovering himself. As much as I would suspect otherwise, I have no actual proof of the sexual orientations of Lance Bass, Justin Timberlake or JC Chasez. Consequently anything you read in this story is the product of the mind of its author. That said, this story attempts to take a realistic look into the thoughts and feelings of a guy as he discovers the pains and the joys associated with loving his fellow man... or his fellow band mate as the case may be.
It's hard to believe that this story has been going on for more than half a year! But at a week a chapter, I guess it must be. I hope that it's keeping everyone's interest, and yes there is still more to come. After all, Lance hasn't found what he is searching for quite yet. Whatever that might be. Hehehe.
If you have any comments, please e-mail them to bjluver@gay.com. Otherwise, enjoy the story.
BJ
"Lance, I've known you for a few years now. In all our travels together I've never heard you curse anyone, let alone a door," Joey said. "That's not you."
"So, I was angry. I couldn't get my door open. It happens. I'm not the saint the PR people all want to make me out to be, you know."
"Yeah, I know. But I'm not talking about Lance Bass the bass singer for NSYNC. I'm talking about James Lance Bass, my friend. And he doesn't lose his temper like that unless there's something really bugging him deep down."
"Look, Joey, I appreciate your concern, but really, it's nothing to be concerned about. I got in my room with Chris' help. End of story."
"End of story?"
"Yes."
"Then what was with the silent treatment with Justin today? Yeah, I noticed it. We all noticed it. Something's wrong here. And we all want to help, if we can. So... can we help?"
Chapter 28
The concert that night went off without a hitch. Justin and Lance gave their all to the performance. Not a single fan could have figured out that all was not right between the two. They were professionals. After the concert, it was back to the bus and another overnight journey.
Joey and JC compared notes on their conversations with Lance and Justin. Neither one was able to discover the source of the tension. Both denied anything was wrong. But the physical evidence led the boys to think otherwise. Justin and Lance continued to avoid each other as much as possible. Something was definitely wrong. But they decided to wait another day and see if the situation changed.
Two days later, the tension remained. Neither Lance nor Justin was uncivil to the other, but each seemed to retreat into his own shell a lot, particularly whenever both were in the same room. A second attempt by the other guys to find out what was going on got rebuffs from both of the blond singers. They were concerned, but uncertain what more to do.
In a few more days the band would be taking another break from the tour. They would head back to Orlando for some R&R. Lance was looking forward to this break. He thought a few days without Justin in sight would help him clear his mind of the bitterness and sadness. Lance knew he didn't hate Justin. How could he? Justin was his friend, even if he wasn't acting like it right now. The two had shared so much of their lives and their secrets. They had even pledged their love to each other as friends, although not as soul mates or lovers. Distance. That's what Lance needed to heal. Distance from his friend. And time.
But when that time came, Lance mostly stayed at home. Chris, Joey and JC would call and ask him if he wanted to go do something, but he had an excuse every time. Too busy. Too tired. He did allow himself to talk to JC on the phone at great length, but he didn't think he could stand to be physically near him yet. It was still too early. Near or far, he knew he had it bad for JC. But would JC feel the same way? He wrestled with the idea over and over. He played out scenarios of how to tell JC, or how to get JC to say something. He plotted ways to get their lips close to each other. But he ended up rejecting every plan. Too risky.
At times to clear his mind he went out driving. He had no particular place to go. Just being behind the wheel of his car made him feel relaxed.
It was on one of those outings that Lance did something he quickly regretted. He had thought using the wrong head. Not all that uncommon a mistake for a male Lance's age. The desire for sex is strong and the frequency of unplanned boners is high. Lance found himself driving by the park where he and JC had shared a lunch several weeks ago. At first he just drove right past the entrance. He didn't drive very far down the road before he found himself pulling over and turning the car back around toward the park.
As he neared the entrance a whole debate raged in his mind. It was almost just like those little cartoon angel and devil floating on either side of his skull, whispering counter views into his ears. The angel wanted Lance to drive on past the park. Not to make that turn. The devil was much more nonchalant. "Oh go ahead and at least turn in. What could it hurt?"
At the very last second, the devil won. Lance made a hard, quick turn into the park entrance. His mouth was beginning to get dry as he drove down the same road he and JC had been on before. Lance had to tell himself it was OK just to check out the scene. He reached the clearing where he parked before. Lance put the vehicle into park. He let the engine run for a minute or two while he craned his neck around. No one else seemed to be around. He raised his right arm, grabbed the key and slowly twisted it back toward him. The vehicle went silent.
Lance could feel his heart beat now. He just sat there for a moment, leaning back. But the windows were still up and it was already feeling stuffy in the car. Lance slowly opened the car door and stepped out. He stretched and looked around again. Not a sign of life beyond some birds chirping in nearby trees. He closed the car door and began walking down a path. It was the same path he had walked down before to reach the restroom.
Then he saw it. The small brick building. The heart was still pounding hard, but Lance's feet continued their forward movement. He quickly opened the door to the men's side of the building. As he stepped inside he noticed he was alone. Lance wasn't really sure whether he was relieved or disappointed. At the moment probably more relieved than anything else. He headed toward the far wall, to the second of the two toilet stalls. He took a deep breath and walked into the stall. He closed and locked the door behind him. He turned his body around so he was facing the stall door, then he unbuckled his belt. He opened the button at the top of his jeans, then slowly pulled down the zipper. He grabbed onto the sides of his Levis and the elastic band on his boxer briefs, sliding them all the way down to his ankles. He then took a seat.
After sitting down he turned his head to the left. There it was. The hole in the wall. Lance studied it. He ran a finger around the opening. Someone had apparently made sure to smooth out the edges. He could feel his cock taking on some blood. The natural reaction took hold of Lance as he grabbed his growing pole. He began to stroke it slowly at first, taking his time, enjoying the sensations. The slow stroke accelerated with time until Lance was going at it at a fairly good pace. He was enjoying it. He hadn't even jerked off for a few days, so the feeling was strong. He didn't think he could hold off his orgasm for too long.
Bam!
The door to the restroom opened quickly and shut quickly. Lance froze. Someone else came into the restroom. Oh God, what now? He heard the person unzip and begin to empty his bladder at the urinal. When the sound of streaming urine stopped, the person flushed and headed for the sink. The man washed his hands. Lance could now see this intruder's back. He moved around a little, trying to get a better view. He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror. The guy looked like he was probably in his 30s. Not the most attractive of men, but not a dog either.
The man lingered at the sink. He got a paper towel or two and dried his hands. Lance, who was holding onto his cock as if he feared the man would steal it, figured the stranger was getting ready to leave. But instead of moving toward the exit, the man went into the stall next to Lance's. Lance thought his heart was pounding loud enough to power a heavy metal rock band.
The man closed the stall door, opened up his pants and dropped them. He sat down on the stool. Lance was barely breathing. His eyes were fixed on what was on the other side of the hole. He could see the guy begin to pull on his cock. It was hard in a few strokes. It wasn't large, Lance thought. Looked much smaller than Lance's own or Justin's. The man continued to stroke. Lance started back at stroking his meat, feeling a little more comfortable about his situation.
Then the man suddenly put a finger into the hole. He tapped it a few times and then left it there. "What does he want?" Lance thought to himself. "Why the finger in the hole?" Suddenly he realized the man was signaling him. He wanted Lance to put his cock through the hole, just like that older guy had done the last time Lance was in this restroom. Once again, Lance's hormones got the best of him. He slowly stood up and turned to his left. Taking a leap of faith, Lance inserted his cock in the hole.
He felt a strange hand grasp his rod and pull the skin slowly back and forth. A wetness enveloped the head. He could feel a pair of lips moving down his shaft and the unmistakable feeling of being on the receiving end of a blow job. The man took his time, seemingly savoring every inch. It had been so long since a mouth had engulfed his cock. He began to provide some pumping action of his own, using the stall wall to brace himself. The sucking continued. His crotch tingled. The guy obviously was practiced at giving head. Lance closed his eyes and leaned his head up again the wall.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes. "What am I doing?" Lance thought. "I'm in a god-damned restroom. What the hell am I doing with my face on this stall wall?" He backed away, pulling out of the warm mouth and the hole. He scrambled to pull up his pants. He opened the stall door and made a beeline for the exit. He finished buckling his belt on the way out. Once outside, he didn't quite run, but he trotted quickly to his car. He got in, started up the engine and had it in gear faster than a pit stop at a NASCAR race. He drove quickly out of the park, barely slowing down for the stop sign at the entrance. A few blocks away he pulled into a grocery store parking lot, stopped in a space far from any other vehicles, put the engine in park. He bent forward, resting his head on the steering wheel, and started to cry.
To be continued...