Hi everyone,
This is chapters 10 and 11 of my continuing story. First off, these next chapters are where everything starts getting really interesting (at least I think so). So please, if you love it, like it or hate it, send e-mails to sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. I love, love, love e-mail (even if its bad--I need the feedback). And this is the chapter that deals with things that I'm a bit unfamiliar with due to my gender. So if I get anything wrong, please mail me and tell me before I make an even bigger fool out of myself.
Second, I'd like to thank everyone who's written me with their kind thoughts and support. Seems that I have a few fans out there, something that I've NEVER expected!!!! You people are the greatest for writing me with your praise. That's all for now--Love, Gabriella.
DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story, and is in no way meant to imply the sexuality of `N Sync or Lance Bass. Never happened, never will--just in my mind. You must be at least 18 or 21, depending on where you live and be comfortable with the idea of an m/m relationship, which is what this story is all about. If you're not, then you are most definitely in the wrong place ...and now, on with the story
My Surprise Romance
Chapter 10
"Lance?!?!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Lance was standing in front of me, his hair disheveled. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his clothes were rumpled and wrinkled. In his one hand, he was holding a backpack, which was crammed full of stuff. He looked incredibly tired, but despite his condition, Lance gave a fatigued smile, and walked over to me.
"I left the tour," he said, simply, as if I should have known all along. He walked over, ready to slip his arms around my neck, but I quickly pushed them away. My fury was getting in the way of my happiness.
"Are you nuts?" I yelled at him. I heard my voice echo throughout the silent neighborhood, and then lowered it, so the neighbors wouldn't get suspicious. "You left the tour? Why the hell would you have done that?"
"For you--and me. I missed you," Lance said, walking into the hallway. I shut the door behind him, as not to make us the neighborhood's late evening entertainment. Lance walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, throwing his bag on the floor. He placed his head in his hands and then looked up, when I sat in the chair across from him.
Now you might think that I wasn't happy to see Lance sitting across from me. I was--actually, I was thrilled. When I had opened that door and saw that blonde-haired, green eyed man standing on my doorstep in the moonlight, I could have jumped him right there. But part of me was truly furious with him. What kind of lunatic would have left his whole career--his life--behind to be with me, Stephen Peterson? Obviously, I had been lucky enough to have met that lunatic, and fallen in love with him.
"What did the other guys say?" I asked him finally, after we stared at each other for quite some time.
"They don't know I'm gone," he admitted, with a guilty look on his face. "I left right after the other guys headed out for the clubs, hopped on the first flight back and then took a cab here. Do you know I couldn't remember what your house number was?"He let out a laugh, although he looked as though he was about to drop dead of exhaustion.
"You didn't even tell the guys?" I asked in amazement. "They'll kill you if they find you." I felt my anger quickly slipping, as the realization of Lance standing there right in front of me finally hit me.
"They will," he agreed. "But they'll find out when they get back tonight--I left them a note at the desk of the hotel. And one in their room, so..." Lance looked up at me, with a grin. "Right now, I'm AWOL."
"An AWOL member of `N Sync right here in my house--great, which newspaper should I call first?" I asked jokingly, as Lance got up off the couch. Something in his eyes changed as he pulled me off the chair and into his arms.
"I believe I owe you a good-bye kiss from when I left," Lance said, before placing a soft kiss on my lips. "And a hello kiss as well." Another kiss--much more passionate than the first. I felt myself holding onto him a little bit tighter than before and when we parted, I was practically panting.
"Hey, how about a why-didn't-you-call-me-kiss?" I asked, sliding my hands under his shirt, letting them rest on his back.
"Because Chris threw out the paper with your number on it," Lance said uncomfortably, kissing me once again. I ignored that and once again felt my bloodstream begin to boil.
"He what?" I yelled out.
"Chris thre--" I cut him off.
"I heard you," I said to him, giving him a smile so that he would know I wasn't mad at him. But I was mad at Chris. "I just can't believe that he would do something like that."
"Well, he did. He was hanging around my bunk that night, grilling me on what I had done with you that day and when I was talking to him, I pulled that sheet of paper out of my pocket so I wouldn't forget it," Lance recounted. "And when he asked me what it was, I told him. And then he grabbed it from me and threw it out the window."
"Bastard," I fumed, giving him a kiss on his cheek. "Is he always like that?"
"Nah--usually he's the funny one. That's why I'm so surprised that he did something like that," Lance said, obviously upset. Then he grinned. "By the way, your phone number is lying somewhere on the thruway between Boston and Providence," he added.
"Great, maybe I'll get more dates that way," I joked. "It had my name on it after all."
"So I'm not good enough for you?" Lance asked, sticking his lower lip out. I leaned over and gently bit it, pulling him in for another kiss. "I came all the way here for nothing?"
"Oh, not nothing--after all, we still had some business to finish up, if I can remember," I said, stroking the dark hair at the nape of his neck. "So once we finish that off, you can go back to the band, my dear."
"Thanks for the permission," Lance smiled, rolling his eyes. "Hey, Stephen, do you mind if I take a shower? I didn't have a chance to after the show tonight and I'm feeling pretty gross right now."
I pushed him away from me. "Thanks a lot," I said, pretending to be offended. "Just pressing your body against me when you're all dirty. Shower's upstairs," I shoved him away in mock frustration, and Lance giggled. He then bent over to pick up his bag (which, standing in back of him, I did not mind one bit), and then began to head up the stairs. He stopped mid-way, and leaned over the banister.
"You can join me if you like," Lance offered in his deep voice, suggestively raising his eyebrows.
"Not tonight, you pervert," I chuckled, as I picked up the remote and turned the television on. Lance just shrugged and made his way upstairs, looking more than just disappointed. Despite my turning down of his offer, my intuition kicked in and deep down, I knew something was going to happen that night. We had been separated for what seemed like forever and I just wanted to be with him.
I watched some television for awhile, flipping through the endless stream of informercials and straight porn that flooded the channels. I finally shut it off in disgust, and when I did, I could hear the shower water running and the sound of Lance singing over it. I got off the couch and called upstairs, "Hey, keep it down--you'll wake up all of the neighborhood with that screeching!"
"It's called singing!" Lance yelled back. "And I'll get you for that later, Peterson!"
"Promises, promises," I shouted and began to make my way up the stairs. I stopped in the bathroom doorway, pausing for a second to watch Lance's outline through the shower curtain. I watched his silhouette until I was ready to run in there and tear the curtain off the hooks. I entered my bedroom, switched on the light sitting on my nightstand and flopped on my bed, amazed by the turn of events that the night had brought. My mind attempted to absorb everything and I still could not believe that at that moment Lance was in my house, when I thought that he'd still be gone.
A few seconds later, I heard the water in the shower stop. A few more minutes passed until Lance appeared in my bedroom, wearing boxer shorts and drying his hair with a towel. He jumped at the sight of me sitting on the bed.
"God, Stephen, you know how to scare a guy," he gasped, turning white as a sheet.
"Just trying to get the boxers off faster," I said nonchalantly. Lance smiled at me and sat on the bed next to me. He looked around the room. I had decorated it with old movie posters from the seventies, as well as some of my abstract paintings. I also had a collection of dying plants that lined the windowsill, as well as heaps of books that were thrown in the corner, due to lack of a bookshelf. Lance looked back at me.
"This is the first time I've been in your room," Lance remarked, still curiously peering around. "I like it--it's nice."
"Nice? That's all?" I said teasingly, poking him in the side with my finger. "I let a guy into my room for the first time and all he can say is `nice'?" I pretended to be mad as Lance grinned at me and hooked one of his legs over mine. I shivered at the touch of his still-damp skin against my own.
"Okay--it's ravishing. Like you," he said lifting my hand and kissing it. "And what kind of guy are you getting the first person you meet into your bed?" I felt my face blush at Lance's straightforward romantic attention towards me.
"I thought you were the shy one," I replied with a chuckle as his kisses worked their way up my arm. Lance looked up at me, his eyes wide open. He smiled as he maneuvered his other leg around me and wound up straddling my waist.
"You really don't know that much about me, do you, Stephen?" Lance asked, looking down into my eyes. His voice had grown deep in a seductive way, and I'll admit, it was a huge turn-on to hear him talking like that.
"I thought I did--but since I don't know you that well, I guess I'll have to ask you where you're gonna sleep. I'm not sure if I want a stranger in my bed." I teased him, as we fell backwards onto the sheets. "There's that futon in my studio..or the floor in here..." I trailed off as his lips met my neck.
"The floor?" Lance murmured under his breath as his hands ran down my arms. "Actually, I thought you'd be sleeping on the floor. I'm just trying to sweet talk you into giving me this bed for the night. After all, I did travel all that way to come back and see you. Don't I deserve a reward?" Lance asked, trailing his lips back to my face, where he made puppy-dog eyes at me.
"No," I said dryly, "Personally, I think you deserve to be punished." Lance gave me grin that would manage to light up a room and break hearts all at once.
"I'd like that even better," he said coyly, as I kissed him and let my hands fall down to the band of his boxer shorts. I lifted the elastic with my thumbs and slipped my hands down them, cupping his ass in my hands, bringing him closer to me. I felt his member poking my thigh, causing me to thrust my tongue deep into his mouth.
"Stephen," he murmured once we parted. He moved his lips up to my earlobe and began to tug on it with his teeth. "There's something I've gotta tell you."
I stopped stroking his ass, and stared at him. He had sounded so...serious, that my heart actually skipped a beat and my mind searched through a list of all the horrible things he could possibly say.
"What?" I asked softly, my hands still placed on his ass. I was afraid to move.
"I've...I've never been with a guy before," he said uncertainly, not meeting my eyes. And to both of our horrors, I laughed. I couldn't help it.
Lance's face drained of all its color, turning paler than he already was and he quickly got off of me in a flash. "Forget it," he muttered under his breath. I stopped him by grabbing his hand before he walked off.
"No, no, Lance," I said, trying to stop laughing. "Don't go."
"Why?" he asked me. "I didn't find what I said so knee slapping hilarious." I shook my head and sat up, pulling him onto my lap.
"Lance, I've never been with another guy, either," I said softly, running a hand through his still-wet hair. "It was the way you said it that made me laugh--like you surmised that I've been with tons of other guys before."
It took him a minute to absorb the information. "Oh," he said, finally beginning to smile and then finally laughed himself. "I see what you mean--I thought you were laughing at me." He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Now where were we?" Lance asked. "Oh yeah..."he remembered. And with that he pushed me back on the bed, straddling my thighs. He let his hands run down my chest, downwards until they reached the band of my boxers. He began to slide them down my body until they were halfway down my thighs. I closed my eyes as Lance moved down my naked body and felt his soft lips encircle my penis as he took me into his mouth.
I don't quite know what kind of emotions I was expecting from my first time, but what I began to feel was not one of them. I had never felt such pleasure in my life, as Lance slowly licked his tongue up and down the rigid shaft of my member, finally resting on the head. When I opened my eyes, I found him staring at me, a soft smile on his beautiful face. Once he had gotten my attention, he began to leisurely to run his tongue along the slit at the top of the head, making me moan in ecstasy.
I felt my hips begin to uncontrollably thrust upwards, sending me deeper into his mouth. I was surprised as Lance took it all in his mouth, and his hands rested on my hips to steady me. I continued my thrusts as Lance's hands moved from my hips to my chest, where his fingers slowly began to stroke my already hard nipples. My hands slowly caressed his shoulders and worked their way into his damp hair. I could feel his tongue massaging each ridge and I began to moan out his name repeatedly, losing myself in the rapture of what was happening.
I felt the pressure inside of me building and I let out another moan. "Lance..I think I'm..." I managed to say. My hips kept thrusting into his mouth and I waited for him to remove his mouth from me, but he didn't. Instead, he applied even firmer suction, noticing the tensing of my body and within seconds I came. My entire body shook with the intensity of the moment and I let out a moan that filled the entire room. I felt strange, but not in a bad way. My whole body was tingling with pleasure, as Lance moved upwards, kissing my skin, which was now damp with sweat.
"You okay?" he asked gently, lying next to me. My breathing was rather rapid, and for a second, I couldn't speak. My body was desperately trying to recover from what had just occurred and my heart was beating so fast, I'm surprised I didn't die of happiness. I leaned over and touched his cheek.
"Fine..." I managed to say, as we lay there, staring at the ceiling. I turned and began to nuzzle his neck, still smelling traces of soap lingering on his skin. My mind kept repeating over and over, "I'll never forget this moment. As long as I live, I will never forget it..." A few minutes passed, before Lance rolled on top of me once more. The boy was insatiable, I thought as he lowered his head to mine and kissed me. He began to kiss my jawline, my shoulders and my chest. His hands stroked me up and down my body, as he worked his way down to in between my legs. Gently, he moved them apart and placed himself between them.
I then attempted to sit up which took Lance by surprise. I reached over and pulled his boxer shorts down to his knees, freeing him. He grinned at me as he leaned over and passionately kissed me. With his hand, he gently pushed me back down on the bed and leaned over to the side of the bed. He rummaged around in his backpack and pulled something out. I squinted my eyes, trying to make out what it was in the room's dim light. I finally realized it was a bottle of lube, as Lance grinned devilishly at me and unscrewed the cap. He placed some on his fingers and then lifted my legs upwards.
I felt my breathing grow even more raspy as one of his fingers entered me. I gasped at the feeling and Lance stopped, a look of concern appearing on his loving face.
"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered with concern, as he noticed the look of discomfort that appeared on my face.
I shook my head, "No...please...don't..." I managed to say. He slowly inserted another finger into me and I felt myself once again growing aroused at the way his fingers felt in me.
"Okay?" he asked again. I nodded and felt his fingers leave my body. His hands took hold of my ankles as he lifted my legs and rested them on his shoulders. I felt him position himself at my opening. He took a deep breath and I felt him press against my hole, gently entering me. Despite his tender efforts, I let out a cry of pain and Lance stopped, concern showing on every inch of his beautiful face.
"No, don't stop" I cried out hoarsely. "Just go slow..." Lance followed my plea, letting me get adjusted to the way he felt inside of me. Soon enough, a feeling of pleasure replaced the one of pain and I smiled and nodded, to let Lance know I was ready. He began to move slowly at first and gradually picked up speed, sliding in and out of me. Noticing my aroused state, he gently grabbed my penis and began to stroke it to the rhythm of his thrusts.
I stared into his green eyes the entire time, feeling more connected to him then ever. Not only was I sure that I was in love with him, but I felt exceptionally lucky and blessed to have found him. These thoughts were quickly replaced with feelings of lust and passion as I watched Lance slide in and out of me. His hand continued to stroke me and soon enough, I felt his body tense, his face contort into a mask of pleasure as he came inside of me. Not even a second later, I came for the second time that night and my body went limp with exhaustion as Lance fell on top of me.
We were both breathing as though we had competed in a marathon (and in a way we kind of did, I thought with a smile). I looked at Lance, who was already staring at me, expectantly. Once I saw his green eyes, sparking with love, I wrapped my arms around him and held him, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin next to mine. There was no place I'd rather have been, I thought as Lance placed tiny kisses on my neck.
I was so caught up in the heavenly state, that I didn't notice the footsteps that were climbing the stairs. Our breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, though my heart was still flip-flopping in my chest, which Lance was softly stroking. I was content to lie there and enjoy his touches.
"Stephen?" A voice called out my name. It was a woman's voice and it wasn't Cynthia.
It was my mother's.
I swerved my head to the woman standing in the doorway, who was staring at me with a blank expression on her face. I noticed that her eyes could not move fast enough, as they shifted to look at the person on my chest. Lance had only noticed her then and looked up at her, with a look of shock and confusion on his face.
It was all about the expressions, I thought as I watched my mothers' go from absolute shock to anger to extreme sadness. It was on that last one that she spun on her heel and turned towards her bedroom, where I heard the door close. Not slam--close. And I knew that a quietly closed door was much worse than a slammed one. At least in this house it was. Lance looked up at me, his expression worried.
"Oh. My. God." he said shortly, as though he couldn't believe what had just happened. My blissful state of euphoria turned to one of extreme panic--funny how the range of emotions could jump so fast, I thought pensively, as Lance pushed himself off of me.
"Stephen, I'm so sorry," he said, pulling his boxer shorts up over his hips. "I...I don't know what I was thinking," he said, looking as though he was about to cry. "Is she mad at me?"
"Nah--she loves you," I teased him, as I quickly cleaned up the mess on my body with a few Kleenexes. "At least, that was before she knew about us."
"You mean you never told her?" Lance said, in shock, watching me as I pulled on my boxer shorts. I shook my head.
"Lately, I've been barely speaking to her. I think the last time I had a good conversation with her was when she asked me to take Natalie to the concert," I recalled, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "It's been all downhill from there." I sighed, standing up.
"Going to talk to her?" Lance asked.
"Yeah. I think she deserves an explanation," I said, swallowing nervously. Suddenly, I was more than nervous--I was a wreck. I quickly leaned over and gave Lance a kiss (for luck, I thought with a smile) and then headed down the hall to my mothers room.
I could hear her crying quietly to herself and the sound of her sobs broke my heart. I placed my hand on the cool brass knob and opened the door.
My mother was sitting on her bed, a box of tissues next to her. Another pile of used ones littered her lap, as she wiped her eyes over and over, turning the white tissue black. Her mascara had smudged terribly, and black streaks ran down her cheeks.
`How could have a wonderful moment gone so wrong?' I thought as I sat down next to her.
"Mom, I--" I began, but she turned and looked at me sharply.
"I cannot believe you Stephen William Peterson," she snapped. "Doing such God-awful things in my house, corrupting that boy in there--"
Despite my mother's serious tone, I began to chuckle. Corrupting? Boy? Oh, was she ever wrong.
"Mom, Lance and I--he's twenty-one years old. And so am I."
"You live in my house," she yelled, standing up the tissues falling to the floor like snowflakes. "And you do those things? No. No, I will not have it, Stephen," my mother said critically. "Its bad enough you disappointed me by telling me that you were gay, but now this? Oh my Lord, Stephen where did I go wrong?" She looked up to the heavens and raised her arms. "Where did I GO WRONG?"
I flinched at her accusing tone as if she had slapped me. "Mom, please--I'm still the same son that you've always had," I said, tears beginning to stream from my eyes. "I just don't like girls, that's all. I'm sorry."
"Sorry isn't good enough!!!" she shouted "Where did I go wrong?" she roared and before I knew it, my mother had stormed out of the room, and out the front door.
I sat on my mother's bed in shock. And Lance appeared in the doorway, wearing one of my old, paint-stained sweaters. It looked good on him.
"She's mad, isn't she?" he asked lightly, trying to make me laugh.
"How'd you guess?" I asked, returning a smile through my tears. Lance came over and sat on the bed next to me, placing an arm around my shoulders.
"She can't stay mad at you forever," Lance said, trying to comfort me. "She's your mother, right?"
"You don't know my mother," I said, blowing my nose. "She's quite rash in her decisions and her beliefs. I thought she was gonna enter the loony bin when I told her I was gay. Imagine what this did to her..." I sighed and entwined Lance's fingers with mine, feeling a bit better once our hands touched.
We were silent for a moment, except for the ticking of the clock on the wall. I wasn't sure what to say to him. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Would you do it again--I mean, if you knew what was going to happen?" Lance asked, tightening the grip on my fingers. His thumb stroked my knuckles softly and I turned to look at him.
"Of course," I answered truthfully. "Would you?"
Lance nodded, his eyes locking with mine. "No regrets."
"Right," I murmured under my breath. "No regrets."
Chapter 11
I took a shower, while Lance retreated back into my bedroom to take a short nap. When I pulled open the shower curtain, I saw Cynthia sitting on the closed toilet, an open book in her lap.
"God, Stevie, you take longer than me," she sighed, slamming the book shut.
"Thanks for waiting to use the bathroom--I'm glad to see you can wait until I finished up in here," I said, sarcastically, while wrapping myself in a towel. Cynthia rolled her eyes.
"Oh, for God's sake, I've seen you naked before. Big flippin' deal. Like I care," she said, standing up. She threw the book down on the floor and stared in the mirror at me as I began to shave.
"I know what happened with your mom." she said simply. I pulled the razor blade down a little too harshly and practically cut my cheek open. She grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and handed it to me. I held it over the bleeding spot on my cheek and looked back at her.
"You were home?" I asked her in surprise.
"Yeah, I got home around one-thirty. You were sleeping by then and I wasn't going to wake you up." Cynthia sat back down on the toilet. "I heard when Lance came in," she said. "I was really happy for you."
"Thanks," I said, lifting the toilet paper up. The bleeding had stopped and I continued shaving. She cleared her throat.
"I also, um, heard you...um, well...you know..." Cynthia trailed off delicately "Way to go, Stevie." I felt my face turn red, as I ignored her little congratulations, and continued shaving.
"I know where Aunt Patty went," she finally said after a few moments of silence. I looked at my cousin in disbelief.
"Where?" I asked her, shaving the last of my stubble off. I placed the razor on the edge of the sink, and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.
"To the church," Cynthia said quietly. "She's been going there every morning, and then she goes to a psychiatrist."
"She's been seeing a shrink?"
"Yeah--she didn't want you to know, but she's been seeing him since...since--"
I cut her off. "Since I came out, right?" I grabbed a towel and began to dry off my hair.
"Right." Cynth pursed her lips, and frowned, looking deep in thought. "I think it's a little strange, but then..." she laughed harshly, "I always thought Aunt Patty had a few loose marbles."
Something about the way my cousin said that last remarked, made my blood boil over. That was it--that was the final straw after this morning.
"Don't you dare talk about my mother like that!" I yelled, standing up. I threw the towel on the floor. "What the hell gives you the right--" Cynthia stood up then, meeting me face to face.
"Don't you dare yell at me, Stephen!!! I've had it with you, walking around this house for the last two weeks, acting like the biggest melodramatic queen on two feet!!! You think you're the only person who has problems--just because your boyfriend left you! There are bigger problems in this world than that!" I backed down, once I saw the veins in her forehead begin to bug out.
"I have an opinion and I'm gonna say it--your mother is crazy. She's nuts! And she's the cause of all your problems! All of them. Everything." By the time the last word came out of Cynthia's mouth, she had quieted down considerably. She was staring at me with a strange sympathetic look on her face and she impulsively hugged me.
"I'm sorry I blew up at you like that," she said. "I really am. It's just that these past three weeks have been like a soap opera around here and you know I hate soap operas," she said with a grin. I just stared at my cousin in amazement. She was the only person I knew to go from zero to ten and back to zero again in a matter of minutes. She amazed me, Cynthia--she really did.
Suddenly I heard the sound of the doorbell ring through the bathroom door. Cynthia looked at my state of dress (or undress) and laughed. "I'll get it," she said, opening the door and letting herself out. I slipped a pair of clean boxer shorts on just as I saw Lance emerge from my bedroom. A confused look appeared on his face as he noticed Cynthia and I in the small bathroom together.
"Hey, aren't you two cousins?" he asked, yawning. "You guys shouldn't be doing stuff like that." Cynthia slapped him on the arm, and ran downstairs to get the doorbell.
"Jealous?" I asked him, walking into the hallway. Lance grinned at me, while stretching his arms out.
"No, more along the lines of grossed out," he said, wrinkling his nose. "I mean, I know your family's weird, but this is just...strange."
I was about to show him how strange I could be, when Cynthia's voice floated up the stairway. "Stevie...get down here. Now."
There was something in her voice that made me worry. I had no clue who would be showing up at my house, but when I walked down the steps, I saw Cynth standing there in the living room, her mouth agape.
"Cynth, what's wrong--" I began, only to feel someone's knuckles hitting me in the cheek. The force of the punch knock me flat on my back and when my eyes focused on the person, I saw JC Chasez standing above me, looking down at my face. I felt as though my head was in a daze and if I was in a cartoon, stars would have been whirling around my head.
"Where is he?" JC managed to say between clenched teeth. "Where's Lance?"
My cousin didn't move. She just stared at JC with this mixture of amazement and wonder, like she was trapped in some sort of daze. I really wished that she could help me get back onto my feet just then, but she just stood there...
I heard someone running down the stairs and then the sound of someone being slammed against the wall.
"What the fuck, Josh? Huh? What the fuck are you doing, you asshole?" It was Lance's voice that yelled that, or at least I thought it was. My head started to hurt like hell. I managed to raise my head up off the floor to see Lance pinning JC against the wall, holding him up by the shirt he was wearing.
"You left the goddamn tour--we get back from going out and you're gone. Do you expect us to be happy?" JC yelled . "What is wrong with you, Lance? Ever since you've met him--" I could feel his finger pointing at me-- "You've been so out of it, you can barely think straight."
"Leave me alone, already," Lance yelled back. "Why does it bother you so much that I associate with people outside of the group?"
"Because--you've spent so much time with him, I'd say you were in love with him, Lance," JC jeered. I raised my head up once more and saw Lance let go of of JC's shirt. He took two steps away from his bandmate and then stood there, looking as though he had been punched in the stomach. For the first time, JC `s face calmed into an expression of curiosity, staring at Lance.
"Actually," Lance began, smiling, until he knelt down next to me and looked at my face. "Jesus," he murmured under his breath. "You're gonna have a nice shiner." He then looked back up at JC, who was watching us with great interest.
"Actually, JC," Lance repeated. "I am in love with him."
Dead silence. Cynthia stood in the corner, unsure what to do. She was looking at us, back and forth, back and forth as if she was at a tennis match. Lance slipped his arm around my waist and helped me to my feet.
"You gonna be okay, Stephen?" he asked, as I touched the spot where JC had slugged me. Lance turned my face towards his and examined my cheek much closer.
"Ouch," I said, wincing, as his fingertips brushed the tender spot. I looked over at JC, who was speechless. I think he was waiting for Lance to say that he was joking, or just kidding around with him, but when there was no answer, all he could do was shake his head in amazement.
"You mean..." JC began, not sure what to say. "You--" He pointed to Lance. "--and you--" He pointed to me. "--are together? A couple? Romantically involved?"
"Bingo, Einstein," Lance said flatly, as he helped me to the couch. He disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few seconds later with a baggie full of ice. He gently placed the cool remedy against my burning hot face, and placed an arm around me.
"Are you okay?" Lance asked, looking at me sadly. "Does it hurt really bad?"
I managed a laugh. "Let me slug you in the face and we'll see how you like it, honey," I joked. I took the baggie from Lance and held onto it myself, while JC took a seat on the chair across from Lance and I.
"I can't believe it," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, I guess I can." JC looked completely bewildered as he attempted to sort things out. "Now I can see why you were so persistent on seeing Stephen. It makes more sense." JC looked at Lance carefully. "Are you sure you're gay, Scoop? I mean, really..."
Lance looked at JC as if he had grown three eyes in a matter of seconds. "Yes, Josh," he said, "I'm sure I'm gay. So if you want me to leave the group, I will," he said evenly, meeting JC's blue eyes. I flicked Lance in the side with my fingers and he swatted me away with his hand.
"You can't just do that," I hissed, and Lance looked at me and smiled.
"I can do whatever I damn well please. I left a tour last night, and I'll leave the band if I have to," Lance shook his head. "I just can't lie to you guys anymore, `cause this is getting ridiculous," he said, staring at JC.
JC smiled. "No way, buddy. We're not gonna kick you out of the group for this. How could we? I have to say I'm a little shocked, but...you're still in the group." He leaned over and touched my face.
"Geez, Stephen, I'm really sorry about that," JC apologized. "I just assumed that you called our boy back here, and we were all mad about that."
"Thank God all four of you brutes didn't come over. I'd be beaten to a pulp," I said, shuddering. I placed the ice back on my cheek, since it felt better that way. "It's okay," I said, pointing to the bruise. "I forgive you, but what a way to say hello to a guy." I extended my hand to JC. "No hard feelings?"
Cynthia, who was still standing, began to snicker at the use of certain words. I shot her a dirty look. "Oh, Cynth--grow up already," I chided her, as JC and I shook hands.
"No hard feelings," JC repeated. "And please, call me Josh. Most everyone calls me that." He turned to my cousin and gave her a warm smile. "Hi," he said simply. I rolled my eyes and Lance began to laugh, as our minds both thought of her self-employed clothing line. What a twist of irony on her I thought--she went from loathing boy-bands to having two complicating her entire life.
"Hey," she said, waving her hand, looking disinterested. "Hey, Stevie, I'm going upstairs for awhile...to take a nap." And she was out of there.
Meanwhile, Josh kept staring at Lance, whose hand seemed to be permanently attached to mine. "So, Lance--the rest of the guys want to know what you're planning to do. Are you gonna run back here everytime we have a day off?"
Lance shrugged. "I don't know. Josh, But what I do know is that I don't want to be separated from Stephen anymore. I just can't...you guys saw how I've been the last two weeks," he spoke softly, confusion lurking in his eyes.
Josh laughed. "Yeah, and if I have to do that routine to `Space Cowboy' in the rehearsal anymore because you keep throwing us off, I'll strangle you." Josh looked at me. "He was so mopey, our boy."
"I bet you were a real ray of sunshine," I teased Lance, smiling despite the physical pain that was starting to hurt even more. "Maybe it was better that you weren't here."
"Just keep your mouth shut," Lance laughed, leaning over and kissing me. He turned back to Josh, whose eyes had become quite interested in the carpet underneath his feet. "Whoops, sorry," Lance apologized when he realized what he had done.
"That's okay," he mumbled, looking back up at us. "Now, what are we gonna do? I have a flight back at six o'clock tonight, and I told the rest of the guys you were coming back with me."
Lance remained silent as Josh's words fell upon his ears. He paused a moment, carefully thinking over what his friend had just said. Finally, he spoke, calmly and quietly.
"I'm not going back. I've decided and I've made up my mind, I'm not going back unless Stephen can come with me." I looked at Lance as though he had fallen on his head.
"You're insane," I said. "You are absolutely insane."
"No, I'm not," he shot back. "Stephen, look. I've finally found someone who's made me happy, and you don't know what touring does to relationships. It tears them apart." He grabbed my hands. "Look at the last two weeks--I've been a wreck. I heard you and Cynthia arguing in the bathroom this morning and it sounded like you went through the same thing that I went through."
I couldn't lie--he was right, the last two weeks had been hell on me.
"So come on tour with me," Lance said, as though it was the obvious solution all along. "It's only for a few more weeks and then I get a break."
"Lance, honey, I cannot come on tour with you. I have a job here, Cynthia is visiting me..." I began, but even as I was rattling off the list of priorities, the idea of going on tour with Lance appealed to me more and more.
"I could get you some kind of job--personal assistant--" Lance began to say, when Josh let out a loud snicker. Lance and I whipped our heads to him to shoot him a dirty look.
"Well, you gotta admit that is funny...personal assistant. I think you've done enough `assisting'," Josh murmured, smiling to himself. We ignored him, as Lance continued.
"Anything..I could get you a job doing anything. Just be with me," he begged, as he grabbed my hands and gave me his sad eyes look that he knew I couldn't resist.
"Well...okay. Only if you can get me a real legitimate sounding job, nothing like personal assistant." I moved my lips closer to his ear, so that he could only hear me. "But I do think I can help with the personal assisting if you want it," I whispered, causing Lance to blush. To be honest with you, I thought it was a perfect solution. A little irrational, but it was the solution to everything.
"Wait, a minute," I said, letting his hands drop from mine. "I can't leave Cynthia. I promised her that we'd spend the entire summer together. I just can't dump her."
"Aww, what the hell is another person? Your mother," he said to Lance, "used to come on tours with us, and so did Justin's mom." Josh interrupted us. He narrowed his eyes. "Your cousin isn't one of those obsessive fans, is she? She's not gonna tell all of her friends?" he asked suspiciously.
Lance and I looked at each other, and we couldn't help but laugh. The image of Cynthia standing at their concert and screaming at the top of her lungs for `N Sync, stuck me as completely absurd. She was more likely to be the one who would do anything to sabotage their concert. Josh gave us a confused look, and I quickly explained Cynth's get-rich-quick business endeavor.
"Perfect," Josh said, laughing. "After you explained it, I'm not sure if she'll want to come. Hell, I'm not sure if I want her to come," he joked, standing up. "Well, I'll leave you two alone. I checked in some small motel around here, and I wanna get a little shut eye before we head back. I'll be back around four." Josh gave us a wave, and let himself out. Which left Lance and I staring at each other.
"Sure you want me along?" I asked him, uncertainly. "What if I get on your nerves? What if we find out that we're really not right for each other?" I began asking Lance, my mind filling with worries and questions. I hated that about myself--always worrying about something. "What if the other guys hate me? And what if--" Lance leaned over and placed his lips on mine, running his hands through my hair and shutting me up in the process as well.
"That's your answer for everything," I said, against his lips, after we parted.
"Works doesn't it? I don't see you complaining," Lance said softly, a small giggle escaping his lips. "I can stop it if you don't like it, though."
"Nah, keep it up--I like your way of making me forget about things," I remarked before our lips met again. I couldn't believe the feeling of happiness that were coursing through my body. Not just because Lance was kissing me or because I felt that I finally found someone who cared about me, but it was something else. It was something that was much stronger than I had ever felt before. In fact, I had never felt it and to be perfectly honest with you--I found that at that moment, I had never been so scared in my entire life.
That's--chapters 10 and 11. One thing--I did notice that the number of e-mails I've received after the last installment (7,8 and 9) have been much less than the previous amount I've received from the other installments. Now I'm not sure if either this story is getting worse or if no one is reading it. Or if there's something wrong with the plot and/or characters. So if there is something, please e-mail me at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com and tell me about it. I like to hear from people. I'm not sure when the next part is coming out, but it will be out within the next week. I thank you for reading and until next time...Gabriella.