My Surprise Romance

Hi y'all!!!

Woo-hoo! I'm back with another installment of my ongoing "saga", MSR. And yes, I know it's taken me awhile, but I've been busy getting ready for school. I am going to try my best to update regularly, but I have 17 credit hours this semester as well as the first half of my senior art critique...okay, enough...

Anyways, a big huge thank you to everyone who sent me e-mail about the last chapter. Seems that I threw a loop with Stacey being the big meanie. =) Oh well...anyways, thank you again for sending me e-mail. You can send me more (hint, hint) to sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. I accept good e-mail, bad e-mail, whatever. I try to answer it as promptly as I can. I try, I really do.

And of course, visit my webpage (because I am a shameless self-promoting hussy). It's my other baby besides MSR. Go and check it out--puh-leeze!

http://sweetheart.homepage.com

And finally, my round of thank you's: Nino, Ethan, KiKi, Damon, John (my little hubby--hee hee), John, (go and read Just Around the River Bend after you read mine), Cele, Val, Khiem, Clarkey, Chris (Hickory Farms and Beer, oh baby--that's all I'm saying), and of course Justin, who has cheered me up, made me laugh and listened to me rant more times than I can even remember. Thank you honey =)

One last story recommendation before we start: Finding a Belief, which is a wonderful Nicky (BSB) story. It's different and wonderful and I'm certainly enjoying it....great stuff there and the author likes the Bangles!! What else can I say? Go and read it already.

DISCLAIMER: I don't know Lance. I wish I did, but you know what? I also wish I had a million dollars and I don't see that happening. Also if you're under 18 or 21 (depends--know your local laws people) don't read because this story has m/m relations and is ilegal or whatever. Don't like gay relationships? Leave. I'm not forcing you to read it. Also, mixed berry yogurt with raspberry pits in it is the antichrist. There, I said my peace. And now....

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 43

"Hot Burrito #1"

A couple of hours had passed. The Bass's house was eerily quiet as Lance and I made our way onto the sunporch that sat at the back of the house. Diane and Jim had settled themselves in the living room and were watching television. We really didn't have that much to say to each other...it seemed that the events of the past day had worn us out considerably. With us, Lance and I carried large glasses of iced tea, as we took seats in the oversized wicker chairs that sat on the porch. The weather was unbelievably humid--just the slightest movement caused me to break out into a sweat.

Lance and I remained bathed in silence, as we sat there on the porch, not bothering to say a word. The sun was setting over the horizon and the darkness of the night was beginning to settle around us. When I decided to take a quick glimpse of my boyfriend, I found that his eyes were watching me rather intently.

"Hey," I said simply, giving him a slight smile. "You doing okay?" Lance responded with a nod as he took a quick sip of his drink.

"Yup--hell of a day though," he said tiredly, as he shook his head. "I'm exhausted." A trace of sadness appeared on his face and I could tell that Lance was thinking about his sister. Stacey had huffed off immediately after Jim had yelled at her, not bothering to stick around to talk to anyone. Diane had tried her best to relieve the intensity of the situation, by phoning her house repeatedly, but received nothing but the answering machine.

"I'm really sorry," I answered quietly, as I shifted in my seat. The cotton t-shirt I was wearing stuck like a second skin to my back and I felt something crawling on my forearm. I looked down to see a mosquito biting me and I slapped it away.

"About what, Stephen?" Lance asked, his deep voice tinged with urgency. "For my father finding the picture that I accidentally left out? Personally, I think that was a blessing in disguise on my part," A sad, bitter laugh slipped from his throat. "He took it so much better than I gave him credit for." His eyes roamed over the backyard. "So much better."

"Yeah..." I trailed off as I ran my fingers over the cool wicker of the chair. Everything felt a little different then. So many things had changed in the past week or so, I could barely keep count. Maybe these were some of the tests that God gives you. To see how strong you are, test your faith and all that.

But, I thought to myself, if it were up to Stacey, neither Lance nor I would be seeing the pearly white gates of heaven. Not if she had anything to do with it...

I cringed as my mind flashed back to Stacey's negative (how's that for sugarcoating?) reaction. She had done exactly what I thought Jim would have done....screamed at Lance, told him he was going burn to hell...you know, the exact things that you don't want to hear. I hadn't expected her to be such a bitch about things...

But Jim--he had been great. Well, at first, I didn't think he took it so hot, which is what prompted me and Lance to be caught in a comforting embrace by his sister. But maybe Stacey's ranting had been a blessing in disguise...it seemed to have knocked some sense into Jim before Lance completely lost it. Not that I thought he would fall apart or anything...but I knew how certain words could affect a person. And looking at the sad expression that fell on Lance's face, I knew that what Stacey had said affected him terribly...And the worst part about it was that there wasn't a thing I could do. That was what bothered me so much. Lance had always tried to help me out whenever something was troubling me and there wasn't one measly thing I could do...I mean, I could go over to Stacey's house, find her, stick a gun to her head and force her to apologize to Lance, but what good would it do anyone if her words weren't sincere and from the heart? It would be a lie and I would much rather have the truth than that.

The silence that hung in the air between Lance and I was starting to kill me. For the first time that I had been around him, I was at a loss for words. There seemed to be nothing that I could say to him. Well, at least nothing that hadn't been said before. How many times could you say, I love you?'' I silently wondered as I tipped my head back and stared into the dark, cloudless sky. Night had fallen upon us fast--faster than I had expected it to. And when I had looked back at Lance he had all but disappeared into the blackness, save for his eyes, brightly illuminated from the moon. In the dark they appeared chartreuse in color, the way a cat's eyes would, absorbing my every move.

"You're kinda quiet," Lance finally said, breaking the silence between us. "Are you okay?"

I nodded and picked up the iced tea that sat next to me. The ice had already melted and water was dripping down the side of the glass, onto the table underneath. As I sipped it, I noticed that the sweet liquid was already warm and watered down. It tasted like crap. I set it back into the pool of condensation and looked at Lance once more. "I'm okay--don't worry about me."

Lance stared at me for a few seconds, and I could tell that a soft smile had broken out on his face. "I like to worry about you Stephen," he said. "But you know what the best part is? I mean about this whole fiasco?"

"What?" I asked, curious to find what Lance found so wonderful. I sat back in my chair and patiently waited for his response.

"The best part is that my parents like you, Stephen..." His voice dropped a notch as his words began to trail off. "I mean, Stacey...Stacey didn't, but that's a different story." Lance cleared his throat and continued. "But mom came up to me a little while ago, when you were taking your nap--" Lance gave me a grin, and I could see the pearly white of his teeth flash at me in the dark. "She told me how she thought you were so polite...and my dad...my dad said that he thought you were really nice. `Very mature, Lance--very pleasant'," Lance mimicked his father's voice and I couldn't help but laugh at his dead-on impression.

"Really?" I asked Lance, raising my eyebrows in slight disbelief. "They said that?"

"Yup." I could see Lance's blonde spikes bob up and down in the night. "And I was kinda surprised my dad was so adamant about getting my uncle to talk to you. I didn't think he'd be that eager to help you out..."

My mind reeled back to the conversation after Jim had spoken to me privately in the guest room. We had gone back to the bedroom where Lance was trying to calm down in, and that was where he explained his plan to help me out. And to both of our surprises, Jim was pretty big on the idea of getting his brother to look over my mom's will for me. That floored both Lance and I...we hadn't expected to hear that at all...Jim hadn't even given it a second thought.

"Yeah," I agreed. "So your uncle is coming over tomorrow? For real?"

"For real," Lance said with a slight laugh. "I think that's great--maybe he can help you get what you deserve out of the will...what was rightfully yours, Stephen...You deserve it." I could tell by his movements, that Lance had shifted his body, and to my surprise, he leaned over and somehow managed to find my hand, despite the blackness of our surroundings. He grabbed hold of it and I felt his fingers gently run over my knuckles. There was something so wonderful about that unseen gesture...it's hard to explain, but something about Lance's gesture touched my soul. Even though we couldn't see each other, I knew he was there. And that he wanted to be close to me...

"I love you," I heard myself suddenly say. My low spoken words had unexpectedly tumbled out of my mouth. I hadn't planned to say it...it was just a reflection of how I felt...And then the answer of my previous question hit me like the humid, heavy air that lingered over the town. How many times could you say, I love you''? The answer was easy--as many times as you wanted to. That was something that never grew old--not as long as you meant it, I thought happily as I felt Lance's fingers tighten around mine.

"I love you too, Stephen. Always will..."

"I'm your toy, I'm your old boy But I don't want no one but you to love me No, I wouldn't lie You know I'm not that kind of guy..."

When the mosquitoes had finally gotten to both of us and nibbled at practically every part of our exposed flesh, Lance and I made our way back inside the house. Judging from the quiet, his parents had already gone to bed. He took my still-full glass from me and gave me a look of mock annoyance.

"Wasting this delicious iced tea that my mom made," Lance sighed as he held the glass in his hands. He looked down at the liquid and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Eww...there are bugs floatin' around in here." And with that, he walked over to the sink and tipped it over the drain. As I watched him do this, there was something about Lance's mannerisms that just reminded me of Cynthia...

Cynthia...I had forgotten all about her. I had never told anyone in Wisconsin that I had taken a quick `detour' to Mississippi. I hoped that no one was calling my house, only to hear the drone of the answering machine click on...yeesh, what had I done???

"Hey Lance," I called out quietly as he stuck our glasses in the dishwasher. "Do you think your parents would mind if I made a long distance phone call?" Lance looked at me with an odd expression as he walked over to me. A devilish look appeared on his face as he wrapped his arms snugly around my waist and rested his chin on my shoulder.

"Stephen...you don't have to call one of those numbers," Lance breathed in my ear, his voice teasing. "You have me...and besides, I thought that you were into celibacy these days?" He punctuated those words by gently biting my earlobe, which I'll admit, drove me a little insane.

"Silly boy," I said, as my breathing quickened, the way it did whenever Lance pressed his lips to my skin. "I wanted to call my nutcase of a cousin..."

"Cynthia?" Lance wondrously, as he began to move his lips a little lower down my neck. "Why would you want to call her?"

"Because I'm afraid that either her or my family is calling my house non-stop and getting no answer--we did leave kinda fast, if you remember," I reminded my boyfriend, who had pushed the collar of my t-shirt aside and was now placing soft kisses along my shoulder blade. Why was he doing this? He knew that I didn't want to get physically involved--not yet anyway-- least of all in the same house his parents were in.

"Lance...what are you doing?" I asked. My head tilted back as I briefly allowed myself to get swept away and then I regrounded myself once more. As much as I wanted to enjoy his passionate behavior, I just couldn't. I was way too uptight to let myself relax. "What brought this on?"

"Don't know," he tossed off, as I felt his lips move back towards my neck. I continued to stand there, as Lance began to gently suck at my skin. "I just want to I guess. I'm in a good mood," he murmured before lavishing some more attention on my neck. I closed my eyes, allowing myself to briefly enjoy his actions. And then I snapped out of it.

"Lance," I warned him. "Don't. I need to call Cynthia. My family is probably calling my house as we stand here."

"Mmmm," Lance murmured obliviously,. He was too caught up in what he was doing to me to care about my family. My mind, in contrast, was still on my cousin and her parents, who were probably frantically calling up my house. "So they're calling...big deal..." Lance continued to press his lips against my skin, until he realized I wasn't responding to his kisses. He looked up at me, with a defeated look on his face. "Oh okay," he huffed, somewhat disgusted by my uptight demeanor. I noticed that his cheeks flushed with excitement and frustration as he pointed to the dining room table. "The phone is over there, it's all yours."

"Thanks, Lance," I said, quickly placing a thankful kiss on his forehead. He just stared at me with a strange look in his eyes for a couple of seconds, while I rushed over to the table. It was as though he was trying to figure something out about me. Ignoring his response, I picked up the phone, pressed the button that turned it on and dialed Cynthia's phone number. I took a seat at the table, while the phone rang...and rang...and rang....Lance took a seat perpendicular to me and watched as I waited for someone, anyone to pick up the phone.

I nervously drummed my fingers on the formica tabletop, and gave Lance an queasy look. Finally, I heard their end of the phone pick up and their answering machine message play. I let out a angry groan when I heard this. I despise answering machines and their prerecorded messages. Especially messages recorded by my uncle, whose voice has an uncanny resemblance to Ben Stein's when he's on tape.

"Hello--you've reached the Peterson residence." I rolled my eyes upon hearing Uncle George's voice, which was just begging to put people to sleep. "No one can answer your call right now, so if you'll leave your name and your number, we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Please wait for the beep. Thank you." A few seconds of silence passed, and then I heard him say, "Florence...how do you turn this thing off?" right before the beep sounded.

"Hi...It's Stephen," I began speaking rapidly, trying to get my words in before my time was up. "I just thought I'd call to tell you that I'm in Mississ--"

Someone picked up the phone and I suddenly heard a loud screech that nearly deafened my eardrums, followed by a few `click-clicks'...and then my cousin's voice came through the earpiece loud and clear. "Jesus! I hate this thing...Josh--get off of me...oof! God! Stevie? Is that you?"

"Cynthia? Are you okay?" I asked, biting my lip to keep from laughing. Judging from the conversation I had just heard, she obviously had a certain boy-band member to keep her company. But instead of greeting me with happiness, she instead began to scream at me.

"I'm fine!" she screeched, not bothering to wait for a response. "Where the hell have you been? Mom and dad have been calling your house non-stop, you know! They're going absolutely insane!" Her voice was frantic, dripping with worry and so deafening in volume, Lance could even hear her. He gave me another strange look as I dared to place the phone next to my ear.

"I'm in Mississippi,"I pitifully began to explain, only to be cut off once more by my charming cousin.

"Mississippi!!! Jesus, do you always just run off without saying anything? Stevie, you could have called us to tell us!!! Do you know my mother called the police in Ridgemont and they had to knock down the door to your house because they got no answer when they called?"

I felt my jaw drop open. "What?!?" I barked through the phone. "What the hell are you talking about, Cynthia?" Lance placed a finger to his lips, attempting to shush me. He pointed to the ceiling, motioning to his parent's bedroom above us. I guess I had been a little loud, but still...I had good reason to be. Police? Knocking down the door? God, what next? The SWAT team?

Still, as Cynthia continued her rant against me, I noticed that her voice was filled with more relief rather than anger. "I'm serious! Mom called the police in Ridgemont and they went to check out the house--they thought that....that..." Cynthia's voice briefly caught in her throat, as she quickly spoke the next words. "They thought that you might have killed yourself, Stevie. They thought that maybe you couldn't handle what...what your mom did to you..."

I let out a low groan at what she said. Ugghh, obviously my aunt and uncle thought that insanity ran throughout the family. "Cynthia--I'm fine. Really...I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys" I ran a hand through my hair and fought back the urge to just wither and die. "Lance and I--"

Cynthia snorted. "Should have guessed that--like a little puppy dog," she began to coo, fighting back the urge to giggle. "Do whatever he says, right Stevie? That's sooo cute." I rolled my eyes and attempted to steer my cousin back to the original conversation.

"Cynth--please...Lance brought me down here to help me out with the will," I explained. "He wants me to talk with his uncle. I guess when the guys had their legal problems, it was his uncle that helped the guys with the contract. So..."

"Oh, ugghhh....you mean the whole legal battle with their manager and stuff?" Cynthia asked. "Josh has bored me to death with that whole story--ahhhh!!!! Stop it, already!!!" I could hear her slap someone away, as she began to squeal with laughter. "Stop it!!! Stop tickling me!!!! Josh!!!!" I held the phone away from my ear once more. By the time this conversation would be over, I'd be lucky if I had one percent of my hearing left.

"Cynthia?!" I barked, only to be shushed once again by Lance. My patience was starting to wear thin. "Hellooooo, Cynthia!!! Come back to life, please."

"Stevie," she managed to gasp through her laughter. "I'm sorry...really...it's just that Josh surprised me...I wasn't expecting him to show up here and he did..."

"Oh. That was sweet of him," I commented, as an uncontrollable grin formed on my lips. "So I'm taking it that you two haven't killed each other yet?"

"Well, by the end of the night, one of us is going to be screaming, and it's not because we hate each other," Cynthia said suggestively, which caused me to roll my eyes.

"Oh stop it, Cynth...you know how I feel about hearing that sort of stuff. Makes me sick to my stomach," I told her, trying not to laugh.

"Please--I'm surprised that you and Lance haven't been arrested for the number of times you two have gotten it on. If you were a girl, you'd have been pregnant six million times over," Cynthia shot back, and I could hear the happiness in her voice. "Anyways, you wanna talk to Josh?" And before I could answer her question, Cynthia had already passed the phone to her boyfriend.

"Hey, Stephen," Josh said once he got on the line. "How are you doing--by the way, I'm really sorry about your mom." His voice turned serious as he brought up the morose topic. "I really wish you would have told us when it happened, instead of...." Josh's voice trailed off as both of us thought of the night that I had left Lance.

"Yeah, I know," I answered simply, not wanting my mind to linger on the events of the past. "But, it's okay now. I'm in ole' Miss with Lance...he brought me down here. Thanks for taking care of him..."

"Stephen, he was a wreck," Josh confided. "Please don't let Lance know that I'm telling you this, but the boy was swimming in booze. You would have held a match to him and he would have just exploded. Don't ever do that to him again...please." I was surprised at the intensity of Josh's words. For some reason, I hadn't expected to be lectured by him, and I felt more ashamed of myself than ever. Just what I needed...

"I won't....I promise." And before Josh could say anything else, I could hear Cynthia's voice in the background.

"Give me that phone back--I just said to say `hi', not to hog the whole phone conversation--Hi, Stevie. Miss me?" Cynthia asked with a chuckle once she got back on the phone.

"Cynthia--I was talking to Josh for like, two minutes at the most," I said with a laugh. "I didn't know you were so protective of me."

"Well, I miss my cousin. Actually, I miss Lance," she said in a mock swoon. "He's really my favorite of the group. But you know what the saying is--all the best guys are gay...so I have to take Josh. What are you gonna do, right?"

"Right," I agreed. "And remember--he's mine," I said as I reached over the table, grabbed Lance's hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. But I didn't get the reaction I expected. For some reason, Lance just gave me a weak smile and continued to stare off into space.

"Like I want used goods," Cynthia giggled. "Or someone who's not interested in me..."

"Oh he'd be interested--in your sparkling conversation. Your ability to kick people in sensitive places. Your big mouth. But I can tell you that he wouldn't be interested in your big knoc-"

"Stevie!!! Don't even say it!!!" she screamed, cutting me off in mid-sentence. "You think you're such a laugh riot, don't you? Wait until I see Lance again--I'll get my revenge. Tell him things that you're so embarrassed of."

"Yeah, yeah," I scoffed. "You're not a threat--anyways, forget about your evil ways. How is Natalie doing?" I was surprised that my little sister had suddenly popped up into my mind. And I couldn't believe that I had actually forgotten about her. That was amazing. Usually my mind was worrying about my sister all the time. Was I starting to forget about the things that were more important to me? Or was I finally realizing that I needed to put my happiness first? That was something to think about....

"Natalie is fine. She misses you of course, but her not missing you is like you and Lance not keeping your hands off each other," she said slyly, still wanting to get my goat. "She's doing absolutely fine, sweetie. I've taken her to the movies and we went boy-watching this afternoon."

"Great, boy-watching," I sighed, thinking of what Cynthia's influence on my little sister could mean. "Getting her started at an early age, huh?"

"Hey, she mine as well know the losers from the winners, right?" Cynthia laughed. "And she's already made friends with the Leonard's little girl from down the street. She's sleeping over there tonight. So...everything is good." She paused for a second, taking a breath before shrieking at me once more."Oh wait!!! Don't hang up yet! I've got something else to tell you!!!'

"What?" I asked her, relieved to hear that Cynthia was acting like her goofy self again. It made me feel better to know that she wasn't acting all mopey and weird, like she was when I last saw her.

"Stevie, remember my old band? The one that gets together whenever I'm in school? Effervescent Popsicle?"

"Yes, Cynthia, how could I not remember?" I answered her good naturedly. "You've made me sit through countless band rehearsals when I visit you at Thanksgiving. I had to dub fifty of those cassettes for you--I was hearing your cover of "Dreams" for days on end." I monotonously sang Cynthia the chorus of the Fleetwood Mac song, which caused her to giggle.

"Yup, you remember," Cynthia snickered, before continuing on with her explanation. "Well, if you could, Stevie..." My cousin's voice had suddenly changed to a sweet, almost begging fashion, and I knew whenever I heard her use that tone of voice, she wanted something from me.

"What now, Cynth?" I asked her, trying to make my voice stern. But I couldn't. I wound up breaking into a fit of laughter myself. She always had me wrapped around her finger, and she knew it.

"Well, the band is getting together...our guitar player knows someone downtown, and they got us a club date!!! It's about two weeks before school starts back up and I'd looove if you could make it up here to see us! It's gonna be our first live performance, somewhere else besides some lame ass social thing at school...so how about it? You wanna come up here?" Cynthia asked enthusiastically.

See Cynthia perform live in her band? I wouldn't miss that for anything. "I'd love to make it up there and see my baby cousin become a rock star for the night." I told her. For some reason, relief had filled my psyche and I felt good that there was something fun to look forward to. Fun seemed to be sorely lacking in my life. "Can I bring someone with me though? Please?" I asked, looking at Lance, with a smile on my face. He dipped his eyebrows curiously at me, not knowing what I was talking about.

"Oh you mean Lancey-poo?" Cynthia teased me knowingly. "Of course you can, Stevie! Duh! If you two weren't attached at the hip, I'd be extremely worried, you know. Haven't you sewed yourselves together already?"

I blatantly ignored her question and just continued on. "Thanks, Cynth," I answered instead. "It sounds like a good time. I can't wait."

"You know I'll make it a good time if it isn't, you betcha," she laughed. I just rolled my eyes, knowing that only my cousin could make a dull event a fun one. "Anyways," she persevered. "Are you sure you're doing okay, Stevie?" If there was one thing that I marveled at, it was my cousin's ability to go from happy and somewhat ditzy to serious at the drop of a hat. This was one of those times, and I knew her question was alluding to my mother and the whole mess that she had left behind.

"I'm doing okay, Cynth...thanks." She was about to say something else, when I heard her place her hand over the receiver. I could hear the sound of muffled voices, before hearing Cynthia's voice once again. "Stevie? Would you mind letting Josh talk to your man for a couple of seconds?"

"Hey, I don't care," I said with a slight laugh. "I'm not the one whose gonna have a huge long distance bill. Hold on." I looked at my boyfriend, who's expression clearly showed that he was dying of curiosity. I guess some of the things Cynthia and I had been talking about did sound a little mysterious. I placed my hand over the mouthpiece"Josh showed up at Cynth's house by surprise," I told him. "And now he wants to talk to you. Band stuff, I guess."

The confused look disappeared from Lance's face and a content one took its place. "Oh, how sweet of him," he said, before mumbling something else under his breath that I couldn't exactly make out. Lance extended his hand out for the phone and when I passed it to him, I couldn't help but give him an odd look. Lance was acting a little weird that night, and I couldn't place my finger on the exact reason why. Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was just all the pressure of what had happened to us that day. As I watched Lance talk to Josh, a sinking feeling began to fill my stomach. There was something strange about Lance's demeanor. It was as though he was hurt and trying to hide it from me. But what could he be hurt by? What had I done to him? The questions flew through my mind as Lance passed the cordless phone back to me.

"Cynthia wants to say good-bye," Lance sighed. There was something about the expression on his face that made me pause for a second. I'm not sure what it was about that look, but I had never seen it cross his face before. As I took the phone from his hand, our fingertips brushed and I felt like I had been jolted by a thousand volts of electricity. I'm not sure what had just happened between us, but as soon as it did, Lance got up from his place at the table, a slightly dejected look on his face. He quickly bent down, placed his lips to my ear, and whispered, "I'm going to bed...night Stephen." He quickly gave me a peck on the cheek and then headed into the living room and up the staircase without a second glance back at me.

What had just happened? I was confused. I felt as though Lance and I had just had some sort of fight, one that I didn't even know we had. I placed the phone to my ear once more and said a quick good night to Cynthia, before hanging up and staring into blank nothingness. I was alone...Lance was upstairs and he had barely said good night to me. `What gives?', I thought bitterly, as I stood up. I pushed the chair in and headed upstairs, ready to head off to sleep myself....

"You may be sweet and nice But that won't keep you warm at night 'Cause I'm the one who showed you how To do the things you're doing now"

"Once upon a time You let me feel you deep inside And nobody knew, nobody saw Do you remember the way you cried?"

That night I had a weird dream. I've had plenty of dreams like this before, partly because I used to be obsessed with music (see, when you fall in love, old obsessions don't mean much since you have something new to obsess over) I'm not sure if you've ever had a dream like this: while you sleep, you hear a song playing so vividly, you'd swear to God that someone had turned on a radio right next to you. But when you wake up, lo and behold, no radio. As the dream continued, the lyrics to the Gram Parsons's song just kept repeating themselves over and over, mercilessly swimming around in my head. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and I woke up with a jolt. Thanks to my relentless tossing and turning I was drenched with sweat. The lower half of my body was tangled in my sheets. I could feel blood rushing through my veins, and a terrifying dryness in my mouth. I attempted to swallow, but I couldn't.

My mind was racing with thoughts that I had pushed aside from before, as though I was trying to forget them. Lance had said a hasty good night to me, which was quite unusual for him. The only kiss he gave me was on the cheek...our lips hadn't touched. I didn't feel his hands against my body or feel his heartbeat next to mine. Why had he acted that way? What did I do wrong?

The lyrics to the song continued to linger in my mind, almost with a nightmarish intensity. I could hear them as clear as day. Why was I thinking of this song? Maybe they were trying to tell me something? Like a subconscious message...hey it could happen right? Just then, a streak of lightening shot through the air and for some reason, I felt like the lightening had shot through my body and not just the sky.

I sat up in my bed, jostled from this strange feeling and I noticed that it had started to rain outside. But I really wasn't paying attention to the weather. My thoughts consisted only of Lance. He was only a couple of feet away from me, sleeping in his bed. The idea of him sleeping so soundly and peacefully drove me absolutely insane. In the past weeks of dating Lance, I had never felt this way before. Maybe because we had always slept together. I looked down at myself and then I suddenly knew why I felt like this...

I wanted Lance. I wanted him now.

Since my legs were still tangled in the sheets, I nearly fell out of the bed in my haste to get to the door. I shook my limbs free of the material and picked myself off the carpet. As I approached the door, I could hear my heart rapidly beating in my ears...my thoughts were so marred with lustful thoughts of my boyfriend sleeping, I could barely turn the doorknob to open the door. Once I made it into the hallway, I slowly crept to Lance's room. My footsteps were careful. Precision-like. So that the floorboards wouldn't squeak underneath me with every step I took. I felt like a spy, sneaking around in the darkness, on a top secret mission to see Lance.

Once I was at his door, I lifted my hand and gently rapped my knuckles against the heavy wooden barrier. I began to pray that Lance's parents weren't light sleepers, like their son was. I knew that sometimes the slightest movement or noise could wake my boyfriend up out of his coma-like sleep. I desperately hoped that this would be one of those moments. I pressed my ear to his door and was happy to hear the sound of his footsteps padding across his carpet, towards where I stood.

Milliseconds passed and the door slowly opened (finally). There, in front of me, stood Lance, bleary-eyed, his hair sticking out in various directions, clad in nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. He blinked a few times, trying to make out who was standing in front of him in the dark hallway, until his sleep addled brain realized that it was me.

"Stephen..." he muttered groggily, running a hand through his hair while peering at me with heavy-lidded green eyes. "It's three in the morning...what are you--" `My God, I want him,' I thought as I cut Lance off, roughly placing my mouth on top of his, pushing him backwards into his room. I could hear the rain begin to beat down outside, causing the air to become even muggier than before. With a short kick of my foot, I managed to noiselessly shut the door, before continuing to push Lance towards his bed.

"Stephen?" Lance sputtered helplessly as I briefly removed my mouth from his. His eyes were blank with wide-eyed perplexity, as I dove down once more, pressing my warm lips to his. Despite his bewilderment, I felt his lips part willingly, as I slipped my tongue inside and allowed myself to eagerly search for what seemed to be forever. I frantically ran my hands down his back, before sliding them back to his chest. I allowed my fingers to gently pass over his hardening nipples before pulling his body close to mine. Touching him fulfilled a slight hunger inside of me...I needed this....As I pushed Lance onto his bed, I felt something break inside of me as I hovered over him, allowing my eyes to drink in the sight of my boyfriend pinned underneath me. I felt my arousal level shoot clear through the roof, as I began to grind the lower half of my body into his.

"I love you," I whispered huskily. "I love you so much, Lance. I'm so sorry for this evening." Even through the layers of thin cotton that lay between us, I could feel his hardened member brush against mine and I felt a tingle shoot through my body. The look on Lance's face told me that he was feeling the exact same way. I lowered my lips to his once more before managing to gasp out, "And I want you. Now."

It was with those words, that I began to run the tip of my tongue along his jawline. I placed my hand over Lance's mouth as a muffled groan escaped his lips. Somehow my lust addled brain had remembered that his parents were only a couple of feet away from us. I continued my animalistic pursuit, as I began to rapidly place sloppy kisses down his neck, over his muscular chest and along his thick arms. I worked my way back to his nipples, circling my tongue around one hardened nub before moving on to the other. I enjoyed every second of this. I loved his scent, the way his skin tasted...it was as though I couldn't get enough of him in such a short period of time. I felt as though I was racing against an invisible clock in my mind. My kisses worked lower, onto his stomach as I began to trail further south. I slowly began to kiss him through his boxer shorts, slowly soaking the fabric with my saliva. I could taste him through the flimsy material, and just as I was about to pull the shorts down his hips, I heard Lance's voice cut through the air like a knife.

"Stephen--stop it." I didn't hear him at first...well, actually I more or less blocked his voice out of my mind, as I worked my thumbs under the elastic band. It was his second and much more persistent, "Stephen--stop it...I mean it" that brought me out of my little trance and back into real life. I looked up at Lance with a shocked look on my face, dumbfounded by the fact that he wanted me to stop what I was doing. Didn't he want this? I know I did.

"What? What's wrong? Did I do something funny?" I asked him frantically in hushed tones while reluctantly pulling my head up to look at Lance. He was staring down at me with an uncomfortable look on his face and shook his head `no'. I pulled my body into a sitting position and looked at my boyfriend with concern. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

Lance gave me a tender smile in return and propped himself up on his elbows. "Naw," he laughed awkwardly, reaching up to run a hand through my slightly damp hair. "No way you were hurting me. But I just wanna know what brought this on. If I'm not mistaken, someone gave me a lecture that he didn't want to have any nookie-nookie with me. And this evening, a certain someone--" Lance looked at me pointedly. "--didn't even respond to my kisses, so what gives this sudden display of passion? Hmmm?" He stared at me, his eyes growing emerald in color as he questioned my advances.

I found myself drawing a blank. Honestly, there was no solid reason why I had gotten up from my sleep. It was that stupid song I had heard run through my mind that did it. That had, for some implausible reason, made me think of Lance, which in turn, had made me incredibly horny. But was there a sane reason? Hell, no.

"I don't know," I heard myself answer. My voice was void of any emotion as I continued to search my mind for some reasonable answer. "I-I just needed you...and I still do..." I sounded weak, almost needy for him. My heart and my body ached to hold him in my arms. He was like the water a thirty person needed. Lance's eyes examined my face as he listened to my lame excuse for an explanation.

"Stephen," Lance murmured as he scooted next to me. "Don't force yourself to do anything that you don't want to..." He gently placed a kiss on my neck, causing a low moan to emit from my throat. A knowing look crossed his face. "Was it because I said good-night so quickly? Is that why you're acting this way?" His handsome features were filled with inquisitiveness as he placed a few more feathery kisses at the hollow of my throat.

Although I was amazed by his dead-on accuracy, I couldn't muster up a look of astonishment since my mind was concentrating on what his lips were busy doing instead. "Maybe...I just had this weird dream," I murmured as Lance cupped a hand around the back of my neck, drawing me a little closer to him. "And then I felt bad for ignoring you before I made the phone call...and I had that dream and well, when I woke up, I just thought of you," I managed to admit sheepishly, before moving my mouth down to meet his lips once more.

When we parted, Lance looked straight into my dark eyes, a satisfied grin on his lips. "I know there's a lot on your mind...there's a lot of stuff on both of our minds. I just wanted to let you know how thankful and happy I was this evening, and well...I guess my gratitude came out a little more provocative than I wanted to." Lance gave me a faint smile as he trailed a lone finger down my cheek. "I'm just glad that you're here with me, and well....you know I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when you're around. But I didn't mean to hurt you by not giving you a proper good-night send off. I just thought that maybe you wanted me to leave you alone."

I rolled my eyes, attempting to give Lance a frustrated look, but I just couldn't. Instead, I responded to his humorous words with a pretty nonhumorous kiss, frantic to recapture the feelings that had coursed through my body only moments ago. My desire for him was fading rather quickly and I found myself once again feeling non-sexual. The unspeakable things I wanted to do to Lance were quickly replaced with the problems of our lives. What a downer, I thought sadly as Lance hooked a leg over mine, and pulled himself into my lap.

"Stephen," he whispered, running his lips down my cheekbone. "Are you gonna finish what you started, or are you going to leave me like this?" Wordlessly, I ran my hand over the hardness in his shorts as seductively as I could, but my heart wasn't in it. `Fucking thoughts', I said venhimently to myself as I pressed forward and ran a hand across Lance's chest. Our mouths met in a rather tantalizing kiss, as our tongues met once more. I would force myself to make Lance happy if it killed me. He deserved it. He deserved it for staying with me, wanting to help me, for falling in love with me. I didn't want to be seen as some ungrateful bastard, just because I couldn't muster up any energy to sleep with him.

After a few seconds of some more passionate making out, Lance pulled away from me and looked at me with a critical eye. "Stephen," he said observantly. "Your heart's not in this, is it?"

Not wanting to lie to Lance anymore, I shook my head slowly, feeling like a defeated loser. "Yeah...I just can't. It still doesn't feel right to me, Lance...please don't hate me," I added somewhat pitifully after a few seconds had passed. Lance let out a gentle laugh at my remark.

"Stephen," he said, trying to hide his disappointment. "I could never hate you." He gave me a restless smile. "Little disappointed--yes, but hate? Never." I gave him a grateful smile as I climbed out of his bed. The feeling of my feet on the carpet somewhat grounded me. Like I had come back down to Earth...

"Sorry," I mumbled under my breath as Lance followed me to the door. "I shouldn't have..."

"So you're a tease," Lance joked as best as he could, although I could see the pent up frustration in his eyes. "There's always another day...night..." His words trailed off as he reached out and gently tickled my sides.

"Stop it," I laughed, trying to push the guilty feelings out of my mind. "What if your parents hear us? How good do you think that would look? Me sneaking out of your room in the middle of the night." I placed my hand on the doorknob, ready to hightail it out of there. I felt like an idiot...a fool...I felt my face flush, not from anything Lance and I had done, but because I felt incredibly stupid. He placed his hand briefly over mine, and tilted his head up to mine.

"Good night?" he asked, widening his eyes into the look I had fallen so in love with. Go ahead, Lance', I thought inwardly. Make me feel even worse than I do already.' I tipped my head down to his and kissed him. It was a nice kiss...

"Good night, Lance. See you tomorrow morning," I whispered as I snuck out into the hallway. I turned back to look at him, and saw him watching me intently from his partially opened door. I waited for him to answer me.

"See you," Lance finally whispered back. He curved his lips into one last shaky smile before finally closing the door. I knew I had hurt him (in more ways than one)...and I hated myself for that. I somehow managed to make it back to my bed and as I laid in it, a funny thought crossed my mind. How many people would have killed to be in my situation? And how many would have turned down a clearly sexually aroused man, especially when that man was none other than Lance Bass? Was I insane? Or was I just being human and true to myself? Why was I like this? Those questions lingered in my mind as I finally drifted off to sleep...

When I woke up the next morning, the old feelings of self-loathing came rushing back to me. They didn't even give me a chance to wake up really, and bang--there they were staring me in the face. Bastards.

As I lay in my bed, I stared at the ceiling. Immediately I had thought of what had nearly happened last night. Why had I done that to Lance? Why had I led him on and then walked away? Those stupid thoughts of mine were going to kill my relationship with the most wonderful person I had met in my entire life...why couldn't I have just allowed myself to fall into the moment and enjoyed myself? These questions were killing me. They really were.

I got up from the bed and walked towards the door. I had to go to the bathroom. Just as I was about to place my hand on the doorknob, the door suddenly flew open and it's edge hit me smack dab in the middle of my forehead.

"Ahhhhh!" I screamed as I felt the heavy wood come in contact with my skin. My eyes slammed shut and my hands flew up to where the pain began to throb wildly. I felt tears roll from my eyes as I took a couple of steps backwards and promptly tripped over the throw rug that was lying on the hardwood floor. As if I wasn't in enough pain, I fell backwards, landing with a heavy thud.

I stared at the stark white ceiling for a couple of seconds, not sure what had just happened to me. I wasn't sure what was worse: the pain in my head or the pain that ran up and down my back. I moved my ankles. I wasn't paralyzed. That was good. As I continued to stare at the ceiling, I saw Lance's face suddenly appear in my line of view.

"Stephen," he breathed as he knelt down next to me. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were standing right there by the door..." He slipped a hand under my back and gently pulled me into a sitting position. He began to brush his hand lightly up and down my spine, trying to eradicate the pain.

"Ouch." I winced at his touch, despite that fact that he just wanted to help me. "Lance, I know you're mad at me for last night, but really, was it necessary to hit me in the head like that?"

I watched his lips part and a gentle, regretful laugh escape them as he sat down on the floor besides me. "Are you okay, Stephen? I'm so sorry, I just came to wake you up."

"Well, I'm up," I said dryly as I lifted a hand to rub the sore spot on my forehead. "How could I not be, huh? And besides, I'm the one whose sorry." I attempted to shoot Lance a dirty look, but his eyes were filled with so much love and concern, I just couldn't do that to him. My lips broke into a smile as Lance began to massage my shoulders.

"No, I'm sorry," he repeated empathetically, his fingers massaging my skin. I shivered at his touch, and allowed my eyes to close. But they flew open when I heard him speak again. "I didn't mean it." Lance's face then twisted into a look of bewilderment. "And what are you sorry for now?"

"For last night," I breathed as Lance's hand expertly kneaded my flesh. "For what I did to you...I disappointed you."

"Stephen..." Lance began, shaking his head. "I'm not gonna lie and tell you that I wasn't disappointed, because I was...I mean, you kinda had me worked me up there..." A grin broke out on his lips as the memory of last night crossed his mind. "But to be mad at you? Because you didn't want to? I'm not going to force you to sleep with me--" He gave me one of his sexy grins, and if my head wasn't pounding like a jackhammer from the sudden case of nerves, I would have leaned over to kiss him. "Although forcing you would be kinda fun."

"Dirty boy," I murmured under my breath, before allowing myself to smile. "But I like it."

"I know you would," Lance said before continuing. "But Stephen--I know that you've been through so much in this last week...your mom...the will...people just act a little crazy when their stressed and I think that was your way of acting out last night. It would have been nice if something happened, but it didn't. So stop beating yourself up--I'm not mad at you, in fact," Lance grinned at me, his eyes lighting up as he pulled me up from the floor. "For some crazy reason, I still love you."

"Really? Even after all this stuff, you still wanna waste your time on me? You're sweet...even if you did try to kill me today," I added dryly.

"I know I am," Lance laughed as he continued to hold on to my hand. He ran his fingers over the bandage that still covered up the wound from a couple of days ago. "Consider it payback for this, okay?"

I cringed at that memory. God, I was such an asshole. `You're an asshole with a wonderful person standing in front of you', the voice in the back of my mind spoke up. "So now were even?" I asked Lance as he wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Yup--we shall never speak of this moment again--neither of them," Lance whispered as he kissed me. "Never ever. Now come on--you have to get ready, because my Uncle is coming over today." He placed another kiss on my lips and with that, led me out of my bedroom. It was at that moment, that I realized there was no one on Earth like Lance. No one.

After that rather painful incident, Lance led me to the bathroom and then left me alone so that I could get myself ready for the day. I did all the normal things that I usually did--take a shower, shave....all that stuff. When I finally made it downstairs, there was a man sitting in the living room, along with Lance and his father. Oddly enough, I guessed by the physical features alone, that this person had to be Lance's uncle, Jeff. I smiled at Jim as I entered the room. He returned my smile with one of his own and watched me with interested eyes. As I took a seat next to Lance, I noticed that my boyfriend's personality had changed considerable. As happy as he had been this morning, was how introverted and quiet he was now. Jim on the other hand, gave me a strange look as his eyes curiously zeroed in on the lovely black and blue mark that sat in the middle of my forehead.

"Hello, Stephen," Jim greeted me, as he continued to stare at my bruise . "Are you alright? Did you fall or something this morning?"

"Um, no..." I managed to stammer out, feeling awkward as the attention of the room was on me. "--it just seems that someone--" I shot Lance a mock evil look as I said this. "--thinks that opening doors without knocking is appropriate."

"I told you I didn't mean it!!" Lance exclaimed a little more edgily that I had expected. I looked at his anxious, nervous behavior in surprise and then it dawned on me: Lance was probably so nervy because he would have to `out' himself to another family member today. I noted that his face was a little on the pale side, while he busied his hands by rubbing them together frantically.

"I know you didn't," I said with an uneasy laugh. "Just kidding with you, Lance." I did my best to psychically connect with him. Don't freak out,' I tried tell him. Don't worry so much. I love you.' But I don't think it worked, as Lance continued to rub his hands over and over again. He took a couple of deep breaths as he turned back to me. All the while, I noticed Jeff staring at his nephew strangely. I didn't blame him. Lance looked as though he was about to break into a hundred pieces if someone even talked to him.

"Stephen," Lance began, his voice coming out in a shaky breath. "I want to introduce you to my Uncle Jeff...Uncle Jeff, this is Stephen. He worked on the tour with me and he's the reason I wanted you to come over here today."

"Hello, Stephen," Jeff said, leaning over and extending his hand to me. "It's a pleasure to meet you--and please, call me Jeff." I shook his hand in return, and gave him a brief, anxious smile. From appearances alone, Jeff was a little high-class. He was wearing an elegant looking business suit and his sandy brown hair was carefully fixed. He was an odd contrast to the casual demeanor of the rest of the Bass family, but then he was a lawyer. He had to look good.

"Same here," I answered him somewhat truthfully. It was always nice to meet new relatives of Lance's, but how long would Jeff's pleasant demeanor last once he found out about his nephew's sexuality? I sat there, tapping my fingertips against my kneecap as I watched Jeff turn back to Lance.

"So, Lance, I haven't seen you in ages. What is this little meeting all about?" He eyed his nephew somewhat suspiciously as inquisitiveness swam around in his light brown eyes. "I tried to ask Jim about it, but he was pretty hush-hush..so..." he trailed off, waiting for an answer. If it was possible, Lance turned even paler as Jeff's words fell on his ears. He licked his lips a couple of times before he started to talk.

"Uncle Jeff...it's a long story. See..." Lance looked as though he was about to drop straight through the floor. Three pairs of eyes had turned to him and under our scrutiny, his pale face now began to turn an interesting shade of red. The guilt inside of me grew and I felt terrible for him. Lance was putting himself on the line for me. He could ruin his relationship with his Uncle and for what? Me. He was willing to risk his relationship with his family for me. What other person would do that?

"See..." Lance repeated, trying to make his voice sounds a bit more self-assured. "Uncle Jeff, you mine as well know...I'm gay." My mouth dropped open just then. I knew Lance was going to tell him, but I hadn't expected him to say it so bluntly. I guessed that he had had enough--no beating around the bush for him. I watched as Lance kept his gaze glued to the floor, afraid to make any sort of eye contact with his uncle. I could see Lance's body trembling slightly, and for the first time, I realized that this whole coming out process was much harder for him than it ever was for me. The only people I had informed about my sexuality was my mom, my Aunt and Uncle, Cynthia and Natalie. I had grown up somewhat religious, but I was more of an Easter/Christmas person. I never felt that heavy curtain of guilt over my head...

But Lance...he was practically ready to faint. I could see it in is eyes. In every slight move he made. Maybe he would have felt a little more assured if his wonderful (you gotta love sarcasm) sister hadn't given him her song and dance routine about going to hell. Lance knew that the whole process was going to be hard...I knew it, he knew it, but we really didn't get the full effect until reality sunk in.

Finally, Lance mustered up all the courage he could and raised his head to look at his Uncle. To everyone's surprise, Jeff was looking at his nephew with a slight smile on his face. I did a double take. I hadn't expected that. A little screaming and yelling, yes, but a smile? No. Not at all.

"Jim? Would you mind if you left Lance, Stephen and I alone for a couple of seconds?"" Jeff asked his brother politely. Was this good? Or was this bad? Maybe he didn't want to yell at Lance in front of him? Who knew...

Giving his brother an odd look, Jim rose from his chair and began to head into the kitchen. "If you need me, James, I'll be in there," Jim said calmly before he disappeared into the room. Jeff waited a few seconds before he began to speak.

"Well, Lance," Jeff began, looking slightly uncomfortable at the words he was about to speak. "I'd like to say I'm shocked by your announcement, but I'm not."

"What?" Lance exclaimed, his eyes widening in shock. "What do you mean? Why?"

Jeff looked at his nephew uncomfortably. "I don't want to offend you, Lance...but you've always been a little...how can I put this nicely...a little effeminate?" Jeff shrugged his shoulders. "I've always had a slight suspicion--I wanted your father to leave because I didn't want him to hear me. I was afraid he'd get a little mad..but Lance.." Jeff paused. "I don't want to sound like I don't care, but...I really don't care if you're gay."

"Wait a minute," Lance said in wonder. "You've always thought I was...gay? Was I that obvious?"

Jeff nodded somewhat meekly, looking slightly repentant. "Lance, I've always had that feeling. I'm sorry to say it...but yeah. I can tell by the look on your face that you're shocked. But I want you to know that I still love you. I'm not going to scream at you or anything of that sort."

"Why?" Lance was barely able to get his words out. He had choked up somewhat with the emotions of the moment. "Aren't you gonna freak out like Stace did? Aren't you gonna tell me that I'm going to burn in hell?" Once he mentioned his sister, I could tell how much her rejection had really stung. It was tearing him apart inside. I think maybe because he had never expected anyone to reject him--not in the manner that she did. She had been extraordinarily cruel to him in a time when he needed his family's support the most.

"Because," Jeff said evenly. "You're my nephew. You're still the same Lance I've known for twenty-one odd years and to hate you because of something like this would be stupid." Jeff leaned forward, a slightly weary look on his face. "I work with tons of people everyday and I have to handle various cases. I've had to work with gay people before--and Lance, they're no different. To be a hypocrite and hate you simply because you're related to me just isn't a logical reason. Sure, there are some moral conflicts, but if we were all judged on our morals, I don't think any of us would even get within fifty feet of heaven." Lance let out a sigh of relief that could have probably been heard back in New York. Overcome with relief and happiness, he suddenly leapt up from the couch and grabbed his uncle in a massive hug.

"Whoa," Jeff exclaimed, as Lance knocked him backwards on the couch. "Someone's a little happy, aren't they? Did I say the right thing?" Lance let out a loud peal of laughter and the elation on his face was as clear as day.

"You don't even know how much," Lance chuckled, shaking his head in incredulity, as he sat back down. He was trembling once again, but I knew it was because something had finally gone right. "You don't even know, Uncle Jeff," he repeated. "I was expecting you to hate me...thank you so much."

"Oh stop it," Jeff said, dismissing Lance's comments with a wave of his hand. "Why would you think that?"

Realizing that I was still there, Lance looked over at me. His green eyes locked with mine and by the expression that was swimming around in them, I could tell that Lance was thinking about my mother and my current situation. Her reaction had been so hateful, how could Lance not be worried about his own family?

He took another deep breath, knowing that he had to explain himself. "Well..." Lance began, breaking our gaze as he swung his head back around towards Jeff. "There's a few things that you have to know. One of them is that this guy next to me," Lance turned back to me and placing a hand on my kneecap. "Is my boyfriend. Stephen is my boyfriend," Lance repeated, his voice gaining strength as he continued to talk. He looked at his uncle defiantly, once expecting him to freak out--but like before, the expression on Jeff's face remained calm--almost expressionless.

"Okay," Jeff nodded, looking at me with a welcoming smile on his face. "Go on, Lance."

"Well.." I could tell that Lance was trying to organize his thoughts into a coherent explanation. "See, this is where everything gets really weird. Stephen's mom disowned him because he was...gay," Lance's voice faltered on these words. "And that's one of the reasons why I was so worried to tell everyone here. If she had reacted so badly to her own son coming out, then why wouldn't you guys? Anyway, about a week ago, Stephen's mother killed herself." I heard a slight gasp leave Jeff's lips as his his accepting appearance changed to one of horror. It's funny, but when you tell people someone died by committing suicide, their whole being changes.

"How terrible," Jeff breathed as he reached over to pat my hand. It was a nice comforting gesture on his part. He didn't have to do that, taking into account that he only met me a few minutes ago. "I'm sorry, Stephen. That's a terrible thing to have experienced." Before I could give him my usual answer of, "Don't be," Lance had forged on with his plan.

"Uncle Jeff, the reading of her will was a couple of days ago...and, well, she wrote Stephen out of the entire thing. And...well, I guess I was hoping you could help him out..." Lance stammered.

"Stephen?" Jeff asked, startled by Lance's words. "Is this the truth? Did your mother really do this to you?" I nodded as the feelings of anger and sadness came to the surface of my mind once more. I didn't want to cry, mainly for two reasons. One, I couldn't cry anymore. I just couldn't. The well inside of me had run dry. And two, I didn't want the Bass's to think I was some kind of melodramatic wimp.

"Yes," I finally answered, once I got my emotions back in check. "I couldn't believe it. See, the tricky part is that my father died when I was eleven. And with his insurance money, she invested in stocks and made a huge amount of money off of them. She left substantial amounts of money to my Uncle and to my little sister, but nothing to me. She even wants the house to be sold, so that I'm homeless...but the worst part of all of it is that I could challenge the will, but I have no money to do it. And I would like to do that--mainly because I was granted a full scholarship for my last semester in college." By the time I had given my explanation, I felt completely winded, like I had just competed in a marathon. It also seemed that everytime I told my story, it seemed easier for the words to slip out of my mouth . Did that mean I was coming to terms with what my mom had done, or had I just become emotionally numb? Look at what happened last night...I felt nothing...and that scared me the most. Maybe my mother had killed something inside of me...

I didn't want to think like that, so I switched my attention from my thoughts back to Jeff, who was staring at Lance and I with a thoughtful expression on his face. He stroked his chin as he stared at us, which made my stomach jump. For a few seconds, I honestly thought that he was going to say no. Or that he wanted the normal lawyer's fee...something that would hinder me even more. After what seemed like forever, Jeff finally decided to speak.

"Okay," Jeff announced as he leaned towards us. "I'll do it. I'll look over the will for you, Stephen. I can see if there's something we can change for you--I'm not guaranteeing anything. There are all sorts of loopholes and little things that can rule a challenge out completely, but I'll look it over for you, okay?"

I sat there, floored by what he had said. I wasn't expecting to hear that. In fact, the whole conversation seemed to be some sort of wonderful dream. First, Jeff had accepted Lance with no major problems. He had also accepted the fact that his nephew was in a relationship with another man, and he had agreed to look over my mother's will. Maybe things were looking up, I thought hopefully as Jeff stood up from his seat.

"Stephen, do you have the phone number of the lawyer that handled your mother's case?" Jeff began to search around in the pockets of his sport coat for a pen and paper. I guess lawyers are always prepared. "I'll give him a call and then maybe you can come on down to my office tomorrow and we can get some paperwork started, okay?"

"Fine," I said, wide eyed with amazement. "I don't have the number of the lawyer, but I can give you the phone number of my relatives. I'm sure they have the number."

"Okay," Jeff nodded as he handed me a scrap of paper. I jotted down George and Florence's number in Wisconsin and handed him the paper back.

"I have to leave now," Jeff said as he walked to the door. "I have a few cases to handle today, but I can promise you that I'm going to at least give them a call today, okay, Stephen?" I just nodded my head like a puppet, still amazed that something had gone positively for me.

"Fine," I managed to croak out as Lance and I followed Jeff to the door. "I really appreciate this, seeing that you've only known me for about a half-hour."

"Well," Jeff said, a smile appearing on his face. "Lance has pretty good taste in his friends and I'm guessing that you're no exception. And he must care about you if he's wiling to do all this for you. It was nice meeting you Stephen," he concluded as he shook my hand once more.

"Nice meeting you as well," I returned, happiness settling in my heart. Lance had a wonderful family, I thought. "It really was. Thank you so much--you don't know how much I appreciate what you're doing for me."

"You're very welcome, Stephen." He turned back to Lance and gave him a quick hug. "You take care of yourself, Lance--I'm positive I'll be seeing you again, but please take care until then, okay?"

Lance nodded and gave his uncle a smile. "Thank you, Uncle Jeff. For everything..."

"Hey, it's not a problem. I'll talk to you both later on." And with that parting statement, Lance and I watched as Jeff left the house and headed to his expensive looking car that was sitting in the driveway. Lance and I stood in the doorway, and watched as Jeff backed out onto the street. We stood there in silence, watching as his uncle drove off, before I turned back to look at Lance. He was beaming with both happiness and relief, and I couldn't help but lean over and place a quick kiss on his cheek.

"You're family is great, you know that?" I marveled. "I mean they're really wonderful people. Your uncle was so supportive, it knocked me out."

Lance gave me a childish grin, not able to control his feelings anymore. "Stephen, I never expected him to react like that--he was great. Another reason why he was always my favorite uncle. You know, it almost makes up for what Stace said to me." The happy look disappeared once more as his mind returned to his sister. I of all people knew how it felt to be estranged from a close family member. I just wished Stacey was there so I could shake her by the shoulders and tell her that one day she'd regret saying what she did. But I couldn't do that--it was her prerogative, and she had spoken her mind, no matter how evil her words had been.

Impulsively, I pulled Lance in my arms, despite the fact that we were still standing in the doorway and kissed him. I couldn't help it. I wanted him to feel better.

"Thank you Lance," I whispered. "Thank you for what you've done for me. I don't know how to repay you...."

"Why wouldn't I do that for you, Stephen?" Lance asked me, a confused look appearing on his face. "I love you--I've told you that so many times already, do I need to tattoo it across my forehead? And besides," he added, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. "You can repay it to me by...oh, nevermind."

"Stop it," I said, trying my best to look angry with him, but I couldn't. "How's this for repayment?" And with that I placed another kiss on his lips.

"Keep going," Lance murmured between kisses. "I like your version of repayment." I think that Lance and I would have been content to stay wrapped up in each other for the rest of the day. I felt safe and protected in his arms and I hoped with all my heart that Lance felt the same way. Not able to help myself anymore, I placed another soft kiss on my boyfriend's lips, while Lance ran a hand through my hair, pulling my face closer to his. I felt myself falling into the moment..it was a wonderful feeling and maybe, just maybe I was slowly starting to return to my normal self. Just as I was about to kiss him once more, the harsh, angry sound of a car door slamming jolted Lance and I back to reality.

Abruptly, Lance and I broke apart from our embrace and watched as Stacey made her way up the Bass's front lawn. Judging from the disgusted look on her face, she had saw what Lance and I had been up to. I could feel Lance's body twitch slightly in my arms as his sister made her way up the front steps. Lance and I stood there, frozen in our spots, my arms still wrapped around his waist. I was thankful that the screen door was protecting us from the blond girl, since I had no idea how she would react to the sight of her brother and his boyfriend locked in an embrace. She had flown off the handle once, and I'm sure she would again.

But she didn't. It seemed liked minutes passed, as Stacey continued to stand there wordlessly with her arms folded across her chest. Lance had forgotten how to breathe and I couldn't say much for my breathing patterns as well. `Just say something, Stacey...anything', I thought frantically. And finally she did, her words coming out short and somewhat curt in tone:

"Lance? I'd like to speak to you and Stephen. Now. In private."

So yes, I've left you with another cliffhanger. I'm evil. It's also the place where I wanted to stop. Okay, so the next installment should be out soon (?). Keep your fingers crossed. Oh and the song used in the story is called "Hot Burrito #1" written by Gram Parsons, copyright Irving Music, Inc. BMI. That's where the title came from. It's not meant to allude to anything dirty. Really. I mean it. Okay, send any comments or criticisms to sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. Thank you for reading...Gabriella.