My Surprise Romance

By Gabriella Morrison

Published on May 28, 2000

Gay

Hi everyone!

This is chapter 12-13 of my new story. I really hope you're enjoying it so far. Thanks for the outpouring of e-mail that I have received from the last chapter. The comments that were given were extremely helpful and actually guided the course of Chapter 12, which, although may seem a bit boring, wraps up all of the loose bits and pieces of the previous chapters together. It also sets up a springboard for situations that will come up in the next chapters ahead.

Now, this is the part where I definitely give thanks. Thank you to those of you who e-mailed me and told me nice things. And special, special thank you's go out to Justin, Damon and Clarke. There is no way I could sit down at my computer and write this without thinking of any of you. Everytime I get an e-mail from one of you it makes my day. YOu guys are the absoulte best and I couldn't have written this without your support. And for everyone else, please, please e-mail me!!! I'm not desperate, but I love e-mail and to hear how I'm doing. Here's the address: sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story depicting m/m relationships. It is not meant to depict the sexuality of any members of `N Sync or Lance Bass. You have to be 18 or 21 to read this, blah, blah, blah....you know the drill. And here I go...

My Surprise Romance

Chapter 12

They say love makes you do crazy, strange things. And I never had a chance to experience that feeling until now. I found myself driving to work (surprisingly enough, this was an actual scheduled day off for me), so that I could ask them for a leave of absence. As the trees and other scenery flashed passed me, my mind reeled. What was I going to tell them? `Hi, I'd like a leave of absence because I'm going on tour with my boyfriend? Yes, that's right--a boyfriend. Oh, I didn't tell you I was gay? Well, now you know.' I thought as I turned into the parking lot and searched for a space.

When I finally found one (about ten minutes later after stalking a nurse for her spot), I took a deep breath, and walked into the building. I checked my bruised face in the glass of the door. Nice, I thought as I noticed how dark the bruise had grown. I said hello to the receptionist (and enjoyed her shocked expression as her eyes landed on my face) and walked into the door marked, "Employees Only". I was out of one world and into another--one filled with the disgusting smells of `nutrient-rich' milkshakes and strange food I wouldn't feed my worst enemy. God, I would miss this place.

I walked into Carol's office. She was the head of the kitchen as well as the biggest bitch on two feet. Everyone despised her since she was working the game of nepotism ever since she decided to hire her niece and give her all of the good shifts. Carol looked up at me in surprise.

"Yes?" she said, closing the notebook in front of her. No hello', no how're you doing'-- nothing. It took me all of my composure not to slug her in the face (since I knew she hated me, and I hated her), as I opened my mouth.

"I need a leave of absence," I said bravely. Dead silence.

She looked at me coldly. "A leave of absence? And what brings this on?" she asked, folding her hands under her chin, and tipped her face.

"I've gotten the chance to travel around the country and I'd like to do it. I've never had an opportunity like this before and I'd hate to pass it up, Carol," I explained, biting back the obscenities my mouth wanted to scream the entire time.

She looked at me as though I was crazy. "No. There is no way I can grant you a leave of absence for some silly reason like that," Carol replied, turning back to her desk.

I stood there. That was it? That? A two-second answer? You had to be kidding me.

"Are you sure? I mean it would only be for a month. And then I'd be back at work, no problem." I said politely

"Stephen, I said `no.' We're short on staff as it is and you have the majority of the pots and pans shifts. So the answer is, no," Carol said coldly and turned back to her desk.

I stood there, not saying a word. No. That meant that I couldn't go on tour with Lance. For some reason, the word `no' had no place in my vocabulary at that moment. And I'll admit it. I snapped.

"Fine, then I quit," I heard myself saying. "I quit this fucking job, Carol. And you know what? Everyone hates you here. And no one has the guts to say it to your face, because they're all scared of you." I felt as though one weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and another one dropped on it.

I spun out of my heel and walked out. Another chapter in my life had ended and another one began.

When I got back home, I saw that my mother's car was sill gone, which worried me a bit. I still hadn't absorbed the information that she was seeing a shrink. The fact that she was worried about me, amazed me since I must have been too blind to notice it.

I quietly entered the house and saw Lance sitting at the kitchen table, staring off into space.

"Ahem," I said softly, which caused Lance to jump about three feet into the air.

"God...just sneak up on people, won't you? Yeesh," he said, rolling his eyes, walking over to me. "You scared me this morning and look what happened," he said, the expaserated look replaced by a provocative smile. He walked over to me and threw his arms around my neck.

"Oh, give it a rest already. And I mean, give it a rest." I bantered, as he gently moved me against the kitchen wall, ready to kiss me.

"So, how did--" Lance gave me a quick kiss. "Your talk at work go?"

"I quit," I announced. Lance stared at me in shocked astonishment.

"You quit?"

"I quit," I repeated. "Carol wouldn't even hear me out and I snapped and I quit. I know it was rash," I said, sliding myself out of Lance's embrace. "I know. And I hated doing it, because I really liked my job. It was great, but..." I trailed off, shrugging. "What are you gonna do?"

"You shouldn't have quit for me," Lance argued, sitting back down at the table. "I can't believe you did that."

"And I can't believe you left the tour this morning and were willing to quit the group for me. So in a way," I concluded, giving him a sly smile. "We're even."

"When you put it that way, it makes sense. I like a smart boy," he said, leaning over the table.

"Oh, you're not interested in my mind, you're just interested in my body," I shot back, as I began to lean over myself, meeting him halfway. We met in a kiss, when I heard my cousins voice coming from the living room.

"Oh for God's sake, can't you two stop? I've had boyfriends before and we've never been as mushy as you two are." I looked up and saw Cynthia standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest, tapping her foot.

"Great--ma and pa feds are here," I observed lightly as she walked over to me and slapped me in the head. "Hey Cynth, can I ask you a question?" I called out as she walked to the refrigerator.

"What?" she asked opening the appliance and took out a carton of orange juice. She placed it on the butcher's block that sat in the middle of the kitchen and looked at me expectantly. "Go on, ask away."

I looked at Lance and we traded, `oh-what-the-hell' looks with each other. Immediately, my cousin grew suspicious.

"Okay, what is it? You two getting married already?" Cynthia remarked waiting for a question. "Want me to be your bridesmaid?"

I rolled my eyes at her comments. "Actually, I was more along the lines of wondering if you'd like to go on a trip with me," I began. Cynth narrowed her eyes and walked over to the counter in back of me and hopped onto it.

"What are you talking about, Stevie? Make some sense here to me," she said, crossing her legs.

"I mean, how would you like to go on tour with me and`N Sync? There. Am I making sense to you now?"

Cynthia sat on that counter for a full two minutes, her face changing with each thought that passed her mind. I looked back at Lance, who was watching my cousin with great interest. I managed to catch his eye and he smiled at me.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I've just never met anyone like her before," he murmured under his breath.

"I heard that!" Cynthia shouted out from her perch on the countertop. She slid off of it, walked over to the table and hopped onto it, positioning herself so that Lance and I couldn't see each other.

"Well, I've decided," she announced us. "And as long as I don't have to scream for you guys or anything like that, then yeah, I'm game." She grinned. "By the way, can I sell some of my t-shirts there? It'd be great for business..." Cynthia trailed off, polishing her nails on her shirt.

I shifted my head, so that I could see Lance. "What do you think? Do we strangle her or hit her over the head, first?" I joked.

"I say both for coming up with that great idea," Lance laughed, reaching up and pretended to put her hands around her neck. Cynthia slid off the table, a pout on her pretty face.

"Fine, fine you two," she said, heading back towards the living room. "Treat me like that...you should be honored that I'm coming along with you guys on tour." She stopped and came back into the kitchen. "Hey, Stevie, when are we leaving?" she asked.

I looked at Lance. "Good question. I don't think we can leave tonight with you and Josh," I told him. "It's gonna take me awhile to pack and stuff. I mean the flight leaves in," I looked at my watch. "about four and a half hours."

"I could help you pack," Lance offered. "I just have to call Josh up and see if he can get two more tickets for tonight. Should be no problem there." I stood up and handed Lance the telephone, so he could make a phone call to Josh. While he did that, I pulled Cynthia on the side.

"Sure you don't mind?" I asked her in a low voice. She bit her lip, hesitantly, and for a few seconds, avoided any and all eye contact with me. Finally, she looked up at me, a bit nervous.

"Stevie...don't you think this is all going a little too fast? I don't want to burst your bubble, but, God...you know him for a few days and then you're attached at the hip." She urgently pulled me by the hand, into the living room and sat me down on the couch.

"Look, I'm really happy for you. God knows you deserve it, you've been through so much crap in your life, but are you ready to spend every waking moment with Lance? You carry a lot of emotional baggage around with you," Cynthia said worriedly. "I just don't want you getting hurt. You're new at this game, you don't know the rules and," she paused, thoughtfully for a moment and then continued, "from the looks of it, I don't think Lance does either. You're both in lust, like dogs in heat."

I laughed at her expressive simile, but surprisingly enough, my cousin wasn't joking. "I mean it, Stevie--just be careful. Don't let your heart get in the way of reality." That said, Cynthia gave me a quick hug and then fled upstairs

I was still sitting in the living room, when Lance came back in. "Hey," he said, falling next to me on the couch. "I called up Josh and he said that it would be no problem to get two plane tickets." He rested his head on my shoulder, satisfied with the way things were working out. I guess he was surprised that I didn't respond, because a few seconds later, he looked up at me.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lance asked me, worry clouding his green eyes. "You okay, Stephen?"

For a brief second, I considered telling Lance that I didn't want to go with him. Part of me thought that Cynthia was right--he didn't know half of the things I wanted him to know about me. And in a way, we were still total strangers, doing crazy things for no reason. All to be with each other. Maybe, I thought, that old saying is right: absence does make the heart grow fonder. If Lance and I were meant for each other, then post-tour, we could be together. And if we weren't together, then oh, well, life moves on...right?

Then how come these thoughts hurt so much? I quickly shook my head, trying to get rid of those thoughts the way an etch-a-sketch gets rid of pictures.

"Nothing," I said, giving Lance a fake smile. "Everything's all right. I'm just thinking about some stuff." I gave him a nervous laugh, afraid that somehow he could read my thoughts. "You know me, always thinking."

"I don't mind--as long as it's about me," he said with a perfectly innocent look on his face. I swatted him gently on his cheek.

"It's always about you," I laughed, as he leaned in for a kiss. It was silly to doubt anything between me and Lance, I thought as our lips met. Everything was going to be all right.

Right?

Around two-thirty, I heard the front door open and shut. I was in the kitchen, having something to drink, when my mother and Natalie appeared in the doorway. God, Natalie--I had forgotten all about her, I thought in dismay as she ran up to me and hugged me.

"Stephen," she squealed, I felt the pit of my stomach sink deeper as I returned her hug. "I never see you anymore," she said. "You're always at work, or mom is asking Angela or Beth's parents to take me in for the night." She frowned and looked at the bruise on my face. "I feel like this isn't my home anymore," she complained, before inquiring about my face. I shrugged it off and looked at my mother, who was standing by the kitchen table, carefully watching us. Let her watch, I thought as I wrapped my arms around her tighter.

I ran a hand through her soft hair, closing my eyes. How the hell could I have forgotten about my sister? I thought angrily. In a bizarre way it was her fault that I had met Lance; if she hadn't won those tickets to their concert, I would have never met Lance and my life would have went on. So in a way, my sister was the angel or devil (take your pick) in disguise.

"Natalie," my mother called out. My sister turned her head towards my mother, who was trying her damnest to control the disapproving look on her face. "Come over here, please."

"But mom, I barely see Stephen anymore," she whined, holding on to me tighter. "I miss him." Did she really have to go say a thing like that? The pain in my stomach grew, as my mother called my sister over to her again.

"Natalie--now!" And my sister slowly walked over to her, head hanging down as though she had done something wrong. "You know Angela's mom is going to pick you up in a few minutes. Why don't you go outside and wait for her," my mother suggested in a cold voice.

Obligingly obeying her mother, Natalie began to walk towards the living room, without anymore questions asked. I stopped her in the midst of her tracks.

"Hey, Nat," I said, my heart breaking seeing the sad look on her face. I would have given anything to have taken her with me, but I knew that I couldn't. "I'm leaving tonight. I'll be gone for awhile, but I'll be back."

Natalie looked at me with shocked eyes and I heard a loud gasp from my mother.

"What!?" they both asked at the same time. I looked only at Natalie, who had grabbed on to my hand--my mother could wait until later.

"Yup, I'm going to do a little traveling for a few months," I told her, a grin plastered on my face. "I'll be sure to send you some postcards, but I just need to get away for awhile." Natalie stood there in shock and I guess I couldn't blame her. Imagine being told that-- Surprise! Your brother is going away for awhile! And you didn't even know it. Hell, he didn't even know it until a few hours ago. We stood there staring at each other--there was nothing else that could be said. "Now go meet your friends," I told my sister, who was still staring at me with wide-eyed confusion. Natalie gave me one last hug and a kiss, before running off. I honestly think that she knew something was wrong--she's not stupid, my sister. I just wish I could have told the honest truth--but it would be impossible. You're an eleven year old girl. Imagine finding out your older brother is going on tour with `N Sync. You keep that a secret. See? You probably couldn't.

With that off my shoulders, I stood up and looked at my mother, who was staring at me. The hateful, disgusted expression on her face was almost more than I could handle.

"You're leaving?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested. But I knew that inside she was dying to know where I was heading.

"Yes. Tonight. At six o clock." I put the juice back into the refrigerator, and ignoring my mother, I began to make my way towards the living room so I could go back upstairs. No such luck. Before I had a chance, my mother grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back towards her.

"Where are you going?" she asked sharply. "I have a right to know."

"No, you don't," I said coldly. "You've never cared about my problems before."

"That's because you've been shutting me out."

"Maybe because you've been treating me like the plague ever since I told you I was gay. I'm not--I'm still your son. Why can't you accept that, mom? You've always been like that." I paused. "Cynthia told me how you've been going to church, and you've been seeing a psychiatrist. Why? Why can't you just treat me normal?" I managed to say. It felt like it was getting hard for me to breathe. Still I ranted on. "I took care of Natalie when you had to go to work all the time. I was good enough then. I'm only good enough when you needed me and now that I'm finally content with myself, you feel obliged to destroy it for me."

My mother shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. I stopped myself for a brief second--her eyes were so much like Natalie's that I almost cracked under the pressure. But I didn't. I turned back to my original destination of heading back upstairs when my mothers voice called out.

"It would have been different if your father raised you." I stopped dead in my tracks, since I didn't know what to say to her outburst. Lately, I've thought a lot about my father and what it would be like if he had been around during my formative teenage years. But he wasn't. He was dead, through no fault of his own, but he was gone out of my life. I was eleven when he died and I rarely talked about it with anyone. It was a pretty sensitive topic for me, one that Cynthia didn't even cross into. And now my mother was using it against me. Or at least I thought she was.

"Dont you even say that to me again. It is not dad's fault that I am like this. He's dead." I turned back to her. "How dare you say that." I turned back around, before my mother spoke up again.

"Stephen, if you leave, I completely disown you. Completely." I felt as though I had been knifed in the back.

"Go ahead--do what you must," I said quietly. I wasn't going to yell or scream anymore. I didn't need that. Instead, I just held my mother's defiant gaze for a few seconds, before heading back upstairs to finish packing.

Chapter 13

At around five-thirty, Josh, Lance, Cynthia and I arrived at the local airport. I was a bit nervous--okay, more than a bit nervous. I had never flown anywhere before and the idea of being on a plane was more than nerve-wracking, it was terrifying. At least people weren't staring at my face, I thought graciously, since Cynthia had covered up my bruise with some of her concealer.

"You know I would hold your hand if I could," Lance muttered under his breath, as we waited for our flight to be called. He and Josh were trying their best to look normal--they were both wearing hats, their backs turned towards the majority of the airport crowds, as we sat in the waiting area. They also had on these strange, black-horn rimmed spectacles on as well, which, to tell you the truth, decreased their attractiveness by over a hundred percent. In addition to those glasses, both of them were wearing these hideous looking clothes, to further disguise themselves.

"I feel like I'm with the geek convention," Cynthia moaned, hiding her face in her hands. "I've never been so embarrassed in my life." She looked at Josh. "Don't you think the seventies shirt with the butterfly collar was taking it too far?" She fingered the hideous polyester material with her fingers as though it was poisonous.

"It's quite stylish. Scoop, what do you think if showed up at the next cover shoot with these on?" Josh asked Lance, who grinned in return.

"Personally, I think we'd be starting a new trend," Lance laughed, looking down at his own seventies throwback. Then he looked at me, with a concerned expression on his face. "Where did you get these shirts anyways?" he inquired. "I'd hate to think that my boyfriend had such rotten taste before I knew him."

"You don't like them?" I asked him, pretending to be hurt, despite the feeling of nausea that was beginning to overcome me. "Well, there goes your Christmas present," I sighed. "You just spoiled my big surprise." Lance just laughed, and touched my fingers lightly, sensing the discomfort on my face. He leaned over towards me.

"Hey, Stephen--don;t worry about the flight. I've been on planes before and there's just a little turbulence at times. It's not bad." The word `turbulence' didn't exactly settle my stomach, so I just kept quiet. Suddenly, I noticed that Josh was staring at my cousin, who was doing her best to ignore the two geeky-looking people next to her.

"Hey, Cynthia," he said. "What if I acted like you were my girlfriend?" Josh teased her, placing an arm around her shoulders. "How'd that make you feel?"

Cynthia looked at him with a drop-dead glare, ready to swat him with the magazine that she had been previously engrossed in. "Get your arm off of me," she hissed. "People might actually think I'm attracted to you." I think she was about to say more, when all of a sudden we heard our flight being announced over the intercom.

"Thank God," she muttered, getting up and grabbing her on-flight bag. She walked about ten steps ahead of us, and actually handed her boarding pass to the female attendant without even waiting for us to catch up with her. I looked at Lance and Josh with an amused look.

"I have never known my cousin to be embarrassed like that," I told them as I gave my boarding pass to the attendant. "You guys are bringing the best out of her, I swear. You," I said, turning to Lance, "made her blush and mute. And you--" I said, turning to Josh, "really embarrassed her. Good job, there guys."

"Hey, I'm just filling in where I'm needed," Josh said, as he handed his pass to the attendant. The girl looked at him, quickly at first and then a with a bit more scrutiny. Then she looked at Lance, with the same probing gaze. She had to be about our age, in her early twenties, no older, and all I could think was, `Oh crap, we're busted.' Everything was working out too smoothly to go well.

"Hey, you know who you guys kinda look like?" The girl said to Josh and Lance, after we had all entered the terminal. "You kinda look like those guys from `N Sync," she said, smiling.

"Really?" Josh called out. "No one's ever told me that before," he said with a grin, as we moved further and further down the terminal. "Thanks!"

Once we had disappeared out of sight, we all started laughing. I saw Cynthia waiting for us at the doorway, finally beginning to smile for the first time since we had arrived at the airport.

"What's so funny?" she asked. "See yourselves in a mirror?"

"Oh, ha ha, Cynthia. You know, you are quite the comedienne,"Josh said, as we boarded the plane and almost immediately, my temporarily forgotten nervousness had reappeared. I listened to Josh and my cousin quibble for a few more seconds, as I eyed the plane. While I did this, Josh and Lance had taken off their disguises and once again looked as handsome as before. They began to talk to a stewardess (who thankfully was older and could care less who `N Sync was), who showed us to the first class section.

"Hey, I've never traveled in style like this," Cynthia said in awe as she noticed the plush surroundings of first class. I, however, could care less about how we were traveling, as I began to break out in a cold sweat. Cynthia took a window seat, with Josh falling into the seat next to her. Lance and I sat in back of them, as he looked at me with obvious worry in his beautiful eyes.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked, looking around the plane, before taking my hand in his. I smiled at him through my terror, thankful that his soft skin was reassuringly grasping my hand. I felt a little better at his touch, but not by much.

"Yeah...I think so...how long do these flights last?" I managed to say, before hearing the sound of the plane taking off begin.

"Not long," Lance said reassuringly. "Don't worry--I'll be here to take care of you," he said with a mischievous grin. I smiled back, fully knowing what he meant. Obviously, Josh heard it to, because he turned around to us.

"Geez, you two. Am I gonna have to get a bucket of water?" he teased us, but to be honest, I didn't care. I was more freaked out abut traveling, via air. I suddenly wanted to feel the ground beneath my feet. Was being with Lance really worth it, if I was going to die of frazzled nerves?

"Hey, Stevie," Cynthia said, turning around in her seat. "Take these." she handed me two little white pills, and I looked at them suspiciously.

"What are they?" I asked her, staring at the pills in my hands. "Sleeping pills?"

"Not sleeping pills--airsickness pills. Or something like that. Just take them," she said waving me off, and turning back around in her seat. "I take them all the time," she called over her shoulder.

I looked at Lance, and he shrugged. "Maybe she's right," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I don't think they'll make you any worse than now," he said, stroking my hair back from my forehead and looking into my eyes. I felt myself melting as I stared into those eyes. It did that to me everytime, and I could tell that Lance felt the same way.

Suddenly, the announcement of the pilot brought us back to life. I snapped my head straight to front as Lance's hand jerked away from my forehead as though he had been electrocuted by me. We had momentarily forgotten about where we were, in a public place, surrounded by dozens of prying eyes and I once again hexed Lance's curse of fame. I glanced at him and he looked at me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning to the window and slumping in his seat. I felt as rotten as he looked. And then I looked at the white pills in my still-trembling hand.

Eh, what the hell,' I thought, waving down the stewardess for a glass of water before throwing the pills into my mouth. What could possibly go wrong?'

I woke up in a hotel room, feeling as though my eyelids, arms and legs were made of lead. The last thing that I remembered was being on a plane, sweating like crazy and worrying like mad. And now I was flat on my back, staring at a ceiling, and I had no idea where I was.

I wanted to yell out to someone, but my mouth was as dry as cotton. Suddenly, Lance's head looked appeared over mine.

"Hi, honey," he said, with a sweet grin on his face. "Finally awake?"

I attempted to sit up, but fell back on the bed immediately. Lance took a seat next to me and gently slipped his hand under my back , propping me up into a sitting position. He had changed his tacky shirt, thankfully, into a much more attractive white one. It was good to see him, and it was finally good to be alone with him, away from the public, where we could act naturally with one another.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, rubbing my back in small soothing circles. He handed me a glass of water, and I took it from him, drinking the entire glass in one gulp. "I was really worried about you on the plane. I thought you slipped into a coma or something." He softly kissed my forehead, and wrapped his arms around me.

"Thanks," I said gratefully, giving him a smile. I let out a sigh, finally feeling safe in his arms. "Hey, what happened?" I finally questioned him, trying to search my mind for some clue that would tip me off to why I was in my current state of stupor.

Lance shook his head. "You know those pills that Cynthia gave you?" he began. "Well, it turns out that she should have given you one. She practically overdosed you on the plane--accidental of course," he added, after seeing my worried expression

I shook my head. "Figures--trust my cousin to screw up a prescription. So how did I get into here?" I said, looking around the hotel room.

Lance laughed. "Josh, Cynthia and I had to drag you in here," he recalled, through a fit of giggles. "You should have saw your face--you looked like you were so hung over. Everyone was looking at us when we came into the hotel and I think a few people took some pictures of you."

"Great," I said, dryly. "I'm a tourist attraction, now." I was slowly coming round to a more conscious state and my head felt less and less like it was underwater. My balance was pretty good too. I looked at Lance, with a grin on my face.

"So, this is my hotel room, huh?" I asked, looking around the spacious room. "It's very nice. Do I get a roommate?" I smirked, acting as innocent as could.

"Yeah. Me," Lance said, pulling his legs onto the bed. "How's that for a roommate?"

"Eh, not that great," I scoffed. "I've seen you naked already. Where's the challenge?"

Lance didn't answer my question, but instead pulled me in for a long, passionate kiss. I felt my mouth open as his tongue pried its way in between my lips and lustfully searched around for a couple of seconds, before mine did the same. Our kiss lasted for quite awhile, only stopping so that we could come up for air.

"God, I missed that--it was just a couple of hours, but still," Lance sighed into my ear, after we parted.

"Too much talking," I said breathlessly, as I pulled Lance's face to mine again for another deep kiss. We rolled around on the bed for a few seconds, our hands sliding underneath each others clothing. We had become uncontrollable, I thought as his lips trailed down my neck. And I didn't mind it one bit.

There was a knock at the door just then, and we heard Josh's voice call out, "Guys, is it safe for me to come in?" Lance and I stopped in mid-kiss, our eyes open wide.

"What is this, three for three?" he managed to say crankily, as he rolled off my body. He pulled himself into a sitting position and straightened his rumpled clothing and ran his hands through his hair. I did the same and called out, "Okay, come on in."

Josh opened the door up, and gave us a knowing look. "Did I interrupt something here?" he asked, with a slightly uncomfortable smile on his face. He noticed Lance's grouchy expression as well as our out-of-breath mannerisms.

"Maybe," I said, attempting to pull myself up. "What's up Josh?"

"The rest of the guys are back from dinner, Lance," Josh said, a bit gravely. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to them, or what..." he let his voice trail off, unsure of what else to say. Josh looked at me and smiled.

"Hey, Stephen," he said, waving at me, "Feeling better?"

"Much," I replied. "Thanks for dragging me into the building,"

"Hey, no problem. It's just that a certain person," Josh said, letting his eyes slide towards Lance, "thought they'd try to carry you in by himself." I looked at Lance, who just shrugged and began to blush.

"Oh, Laance," I said, my voice mimicking a high, southern accent. "You are such a gentleman."

He leaned over and slapped me on the the thigh, his face turning red. "Stop it," he warned me. He looked up at Josh. "And thanks for keeping a secret there, buddy."

"Hey, no problem--thought your boyfriend would like to know," he said with a grin, looking at me. Then he turned back to Lance. "So, Scoop--are you ready to tell the rest of the guys?"

Lance let out a bitter laugh, and it was a little surprising to hear it. "I guess I have no other choice--I mean," he said, while getting off the bed, "the rest of the guys'll probably want to know why Stephen and Cynthia are here, right?" Josh nodded wordlessly, and watched his bandmate with worry. Just as Lance was about to leave the room, he turned to Josh .

"Hey, man, I'll be down there in a minute, okay? I need to talk to Stephen for a second." Lance shut and locked the door behind him, and walked over to the bed, pulling me off of it.

"Stephen, I want you there with me," he said, softly, pulling me closer to him. "I need you in there with me when I talk to the guys."

"Are you sure? You're positive that you want me there? What if the guys get mad at you?" I asked frantically, as he ran his hands up an down my back.

"They won't," Lance said confidently, but deep down, I could tell that he was unsure and more than a little worried. "I need you there. I wouldn't have come out in the first place if I hadn't met you, Stephen. And the guys have a right to know who I'm seeing and why I ran off like that."

"Alright," I said, a little uncertainly, as Lance unlocked our door and we walked down the hall, hand in hand. We stopped at a suite, a few door down from ours and Lance knocked on the door.

"Guys?" he called out. "It's Lance." Almost immediately, the door opened and Joey was standing there. His eyes looked at Lance and then moved over to me. I guess some of the concealer over my bruise had worn off, since his eyebrows shot up when his eyes passed over my cheek. But still, he remained speechless. He opened the door wider to let us in, and with Lance and I still holding on to each other's hands, we took seats on a elegantly upholstered couch that sat in the corner.

Facing us, were Justin and Chris, who were sitting on individual chairs. Joey sat on the floor next to them. I suddenly felt as though I was in an execution. It was a weird, creepy feeling being looked at by six inquisitive eyes. I saw Chris' eyes fall down to Lance's hands and mine, which were locked together even tighter.

At first, no one said anything, until Lance broke the silence. "Okay, guys--I'm not mincing words with you. We've known each other for ages, and I mine as well tell you--I'm gay." Lance looked at me, finally beginning to smile. "And," he said, looking into my eyes, "I'm in love."

I couldn't help but smile back at Lance, as we just stared at each other. I noticed that his lower lip was trembling, and as much as I wanted to lean over and kiss him, I couldn't. I wasn't comfortable enough yet with the other guys watching--to me, Lance and I weren't a `public' couple, and we never could be. We still had to be as private and secretive as we always were, for fear of getting caught and exploited.

While these thoughts whirled around in my mind, I realized that the guys were still quiet, just staring at Lance and I. I was waiting for someone to yell something...I was almost anticipating it in a sick sort of way.

Justin was the first one to speak. "So you're gay--and..." he let his words trail off, looking at Lance and I curiously.

"And what?" Lance asked, clearly confused by his casual response.

"And what else? You're gay--big deal," he said, slowly and carefully, as not to sound as though he didn't care. "How many people in the music business have we met that are gay."

I looked at Justin with an admiring glance. He had taken it surprisingly well, I thought as I felt Lance's hand loosen its grip on mine. I looked over at my boyfriend, whose face looked a little less nerved up. My eyes immediately went to Chris and Joey, who were still silent.

"Well?" Lance asked them, waiting for their answer. Chris and Joey looked at each other and shrugged.

"I told you man," Joey said to Chris, "I always told you I thought Scoop was gay. I told you and told you...but you couldn't believe it."

"You thought I was gay?" Lance said incrediously. "You mean, you always suspected it?"

"Sure," Joey said with a devilish grin. "You're the pretty one, aren't you?" He fluttered his eyelashes at him, while Lance threw a pillow at him in retaliation. It landed squarely on Joey's head, completely taking him by surprise.

"Don't throw like a pretty boy, do I?" Lance shot back, as Joey rubbed his head where the pillow had hit him. Justin and I began to laugh at Joey's cross expression, as he hucked the pillow back at Lance, who caught it squarely in his hands.

"Nice try," Lance laughed, placing the pillow back down on the couch. He then grabbed my hand again and smiled at me, a little more relieved. Yet, there was one person left who hadn't said a word--Chris.

Chris had been the one that we were most nervous about. He had been the one who interrogated me when I had come for Lance that one day. He was also the one who had thrown my phone number out the bus window. He was the one whom I thought would be the hurdle, the one who would reject Lance flat out. Instead, he took both of us by surprise, by walking over and giving Lance a hug.

I could see the bewildered expression on Lance's face as Chris hugged him for a long time. So long, that I tapped Chris on the back.

"Excuse me," I said, "that's my man there you're hugging," I told him, and to my surprise, he let out a long laugh and slapped me on the back. Lance and I looked at each other, more than confused--we were bewildered.

"Chris," Lance said. "You were the one who was so angry about me hanging out with Stephen. You even threw his phone number out the window. So what gives?"

Chris ducked his head in embarrassment, and shook his head. "It's a long story, I guess. Look, Stephen--I have nothing against you. Nothing at all. I was even surprised that I got so angry with you that day in the hallway."

"I guess," he began, sitting back down on his chair. "that I was just concerned that this outsider was hanging around so much with one of our guys. We've been through so much shit these last few months, with the album and our contract and everything, that it's hard to trust people. So when you see someone that you just met, suddenly becoming the Siamese twin of Lance here," he went on, motioning to him, "It's a little suspicious."

I nodded. "I think I can understand what you're saying," I said. "I just come waltzing in out of nowhere."

Chris nodded. "Exactly. And then Lance starts missing interviews and appointments--hell, he's our businessman. He knows everything better than all four of us combined," Chris stated, which drew protests from Justin.

"Hey, I know what's going on!" Justin complained, looking disbelievingly at Chris.

Joey smirked. "Yeah, Just--you really know what's going on. You're too busy shaking your ass to every girl that you meet," Joey said slyly. Justin just shot him a dirty look, as Chris ignored them both and went on with his explanation.

"Its weird--for some reason, I never guessed that Scoop might be gay, although now that I look at it, all the signs were pointing to it. It was only when you started acting funny--during those two weeks--" he said to Lance. "--that I thought something was wrong. You were out of it, rehearsals, interviews--like you lost your best friend. And to tell you the truth, I was really worried when you disappeared."

"No, you weren't--you were drunk when we came back from the club," Joey brought up. "You were really worried the next morning, when you were hung over," he said helpfully.

Chris shot him a dirty look. "We all were worried, Lance. I'm just surprised that Josh knew what was going on when the clerk handed us the letter."

"Speaking of Josh, where did he disappear to?" Justin asked. Lance and I looked at each other and shrugged.

"He was supposed to be here, he even came to get us," Lance said in wonder.

"And where is my cousin?" I said, suddenly remembering her. "I need to talk to her about nearly killing me with those pills."

Just then, Justin looked as though a lightbulb should have appeared over his head. "Hey, I remember Josh saying that he had to meet someone in the hotel bar later on. Maybe that's where he went," he said helpfully. I shrugged, not exactly worried. My cousin was a big girl--she could take care of herself, I thought, as I looked at Lance. The look of immense worry and frustration was gone from his handsome face, and a broad grin had replaced it.

"So you guys are okay with it?" he asked happily. "Not gonna kick me out of the group or anything like that?"

"Nah," Chris said, shaking his head, "Just promise us though that you won't get personal in public--I don't think any of us will be too happy to see that." Chris looked at my face carefully then.

"What happened there?" he asked, moving my chin for a closer look.

"One of your goons by the name of Josh felt that it was fit to come to my house and slug me in the face. Seems like someone put my address in the letter he left you guys," I said, looking at Lance with a disapproving look on my face. Lance looked down guiltily at the carpet underneath him, as Chris let out a slight laugh.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," I said, as Joey got off the couch and came over to us and gave Lance a reassuring hug.

"It's alright with me," he said, "Just as long as you don't hit on me or anything like that."

Lance laughed and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Joey--you are definitely not my type. I don't like redheads--at least not your red" he added, before breaking into a fit of laughter. I personally thought that Lance was so relieved, at that moment, anything would have been funny.

"Besides," Lance continued, a smile playing on his lips. "I prefer curly-headed blondes to redheads," he joked, looking over at Justin. Justin didn't answer Lance's joke, instead, he was kind of in a daze, and wandered off into the next room. Lance looked at the three of us with question marks for eyes, but we could only shrug at Justin's strange behavior. Shaking that off, Chris and Joey decided to go look for Josh, while Lance and I agreed to retreat back to our room.

"Hey, you two--" We turned around, and saw Chris standing there, a mischievous grin on his face. I rolled my eyes, knowing that the comment about to leave his mouth would be a tawdry one.

"If you guys get down to business in there, please be a little considerate of the rest of us, alright?" he called out, about ready to burst out laughing. Lance just popped him the bird, as he unlocked the door and let us into our new room. Once we were inside, and had locked the door, Lance pushed me up against the wall and wrapped his arms around my neck.

"That went well," I whispered, before giving Lance a kiss.

"Yeah," he said, clearly surprised. "I thought that Chris would make a big deal about it and stuff, but he was pretty cool about it." Another kiss. "So...should we celebrate?" Lance asked me softly, his green eyes full of arousal and hope.

I rolled my eyes in jest. "Geez, Lance--I'm not a machine," I laughed quietly as we kissed again.

"You're not?" he asked, pretending to be disappointed. "Well, that's a let down." We walked out to the hotel's balcony instead, which overlooked the back of the hotel. There was a jazz trio playing romantic music, as couples below us swayed back and forth. Lance and I stood there, his arms wrapped around my waist as we enjoyed watching and listening to the world below us in anonymous darkness.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, and softly kissed the back of my neck. I shivered, not because of the cool night breeze that swept through the air, but because of the way his lips felt against my skin. That was one feeling that I would never get sick of, I thought as Lance's hand found its way up the front of my shirt.

I let out a sigh, louder than I had expected it be. "Happy?" Lance murmured as he began to rub my stomach.

"Definitely...I'm really glad that I came here with you," I said, closing my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy his caresses. Suddenly, he let out a chuckle.

"You're not the only one," Lance said, pointing downwards. "Look."

I opened my eyes and looked downwards onto the ground, even though I was still a little dizzy from the medication. To my surprise, I managed to make out Josh and Cynthia, who were wrapped in each others arms, acting as though they only existed to one another.

"You've got to be kidding," I said, shaking my head. "Trust my cousin to go from hating someone to falling in love at the drop of a hat."

"I don't think that's so bad," Lance murmured in my ear as I turned to face him. "The world needs love..."

"Too true, my dear, too true," I agreed, as we stood there on the balcony for a few more seconds. He continued rubbing my stomach his hands working their way up my shirt. I couldn't stand it anymore, he was driving me crazy...

"Hey," I said softly. "You know what Cynth and Josh together means?" Lance looked at me, confused.

"What?"

"That means my favorite 'N Sync member isn't available anymore," I pouted. "What am I gonna do now?" I asked in despair, leaning over to passionately kiss Lance, not only letting him know I was teasing, but to let him know that I wanted him.

"Maybe I can change your mind," Lance whispered, getting my change of mood. "Come on, I still wanna get you while you're a little doped up there."

"Taking advantage of me, Mr. Bass?" I asked him, as he pulled me back into the room and gently threw me onto the bed. He fell next to me, rolling over onto his side and stared at me for a moment. For one brief second, I felt like a giddy-in-love-teenager, who couldn't control his emotions. Lance leaned down and kissed me, and I never wanted the moment to end.

"Definitely," he finally answered, meeting my lips once more.

I hope to get the next installement out as soon as I can! I make no promises, but it shuld be out in the next day or so (cross your fingers!!) Thanks for reading!--Gabriella.

sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

Next: Chapter 8


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