Communication Breakdown

-------------------------------------------------

 

            Justin contentedly surrendered to the alluring summons of his bed. Tears burned his eyes at the after thoughts of a particularly harsh confrontation with the man who was once his best friend. He sighed and buried his head underneath the shielded sanctuary of his pillows, thinking back to how his life used to be, before the hurtful shoutings between him and Lance occurred.

 

Upon the inauguration of NSync, the devotion of their camaraderie was impressive. They would ceaselessly watch videos and talk through the night while the older ones were out enjoying the supremacy of alcohol. They knew the other’s every little sordid secret, and Justin was even the only one who knew that Lance was gay. It had happened one night of a monotonous tour when they were entering the end of their teenage years.

 

They had bribed security to smuggle them in some beer and fifty units later, they were plastered. In a drunken swoon and Lance had come out, and admitted he once had a crush on JC. Justin gave him a fumbled hug and considered reciprocating the brave action, but before he could finalise his decision Lance had passed out in inebriation. That night had not been mentioned since, but Justin felt a little relaxed knowing his situation wasn’t unique.

 

---Flashback---

 

"J- *hiccup* Juss- tin!"  Lance slurred, the drinks making his accent so

thick it made Justin shiver. The deep southern intonation could always make him melt.

 

"Yeah, Lance?" he smiled that dazzling smile he had practice with after two years of meet and greets. He leaned into his blond counterpart on the bed.

 

Lance giggled, swatting Justin away.  "have you ever thought about- *giggle* about how hot an ass JC’s gots?"

 

Justin laughed, lightly push Lance away as he let himself fall back

onto the bed, trying to stop his giggling. 

 

"Nooo!  JC’s like my brother! Why? You got a crush on him?"

 

"Nah… nah. No, nope, noperoonies, no,” he repeated under the blur of drunkenness.

 

“I did once though,” he added in a giggly voice, resembling that of a highschool girl. 

 

“When I first met you guys."  Lance’s tone descended in earnestness for a moment, and Justin froze. He looked down at those intoxicated, yet haunting green eyes.

 

"Woah” he breathed as the information weaselled its way past his inebriation. “serious?"

 

Lance nodded coolly, as if he were asked any other question in the world. 

 

"Yup. He’s still fine. I just don't feel like jumping his bones anymore."

 

With a moment of contemplation, they suddenly both burst into laughter before Justin was the first to recover. 

 

"man that's cool. You can totally count on me being there for ya pal" He dramatically threw himself over his friend, who groaned teasingly from the weight.

 

"You don't care I’m gay"  Lance chuckled. It wasn’t a question.

 

Justin shook his head to agree with Lance’s last statement. His grin faded a little as he suddenly feeling an urge to tell of his secret as well. He started to play with the collar of lance's loose shirt, and fidgeted. 

 

"No. I don't care."

 

"Thanks Justin."  Lance said sleepily.

 

"Lance?"  Justin asked, not lookin up from his fingers playin with the

collar.

 

"hmm?" The once laughing voice was now nothing more than a whisper.

 

"I think it’s really great that you told me you’re gay. That’s real brave man... I’m glad ya told me…  cause... well, I’m-"  Justin stopped when he looked up and saw that Lance was fast asleep. 

 

Justin smiled sadly and gave him a gentle grazing of a kiss on his check. With a sad sigh he cuddled close until Lance unconsciously pulled him closer. He then closed his eyes and drifted off into dream land, suddenly feelin less insecure about his own sexuality.

 

---End Flashback---

 

The previous intimate friendship had since gradually deteriorated, resulting in a higher recurrence of arguments that promptly deviated into a deliberation of picking fights. Justin regretted the day the immutable arguments began. More specifically, he regretted the day he started the constant string of fights. Not to say that he hadn’t expected Lance to retaliate, he just hadn’t anticipated huge retribution.

 

He had always admired Lance. For his encounters with being thrown into a group in which he had to coerce friendships added with the removal from his Southern upbringing. Lance had switched from a strict Baptist background to a situation where idealisms and beliefs were very different. Laughingly, Justin had even appreciated Lance’s gift for math. 

 

One day he had woken up and that admiration had turned into something more. It had just hit him and for reasons he didn't like to examine too closely. He loved Lance.

 

Justin once read somewhere that “the greatest pain that comes from love is loving someone you can never have”, and that unquestionably pertained to his circumstances. He was emphatic that Lance did not hate him; despite the times he said he did, for that was just in temper. What hurt Justin most was that he could spend the entire day with Lance and yet he had to remain at a distance.

 

He couldn’t know the more personal details in his life, like what type of man Lance was likely to take as a boyfriend. Sometimes he wondered if Lance was even aware that he knew he was gay. He had been drunk when he had blurted it out, and it made Justin speculate as to whether Lance realised what he was saying.

 

That therefore made Justin consider them less as friends and more as acquaintances. He sometimes thought they were just people who would pass by, perhaps with a ‘hello’ and a smile if they were lucky.

 

Justin wiped a trembling hand over his trail of tears and breathed deeply to relax himself. Their dispute had worsened the distance between them, and he could not get the angry green eyes to disperse from his memory, surrendering and allowing dormancy. He honestly had thought that Lance would hit him and maybe he would have done if Joey wasn’t there to restrain him. Funny enough, Justin could not recall the original subject of the quarrel, not that it troubled him greatly. What did matter to him was the consistency of the arguments, as he desperately coveted for life to return to the normalcy it formerly was, if he couldn’t have exactly what he wanted. He wanted Lance.

 

He wouldn’t dare openly admit his love for his best friend. Lance would follow him to slumber and his dreams would consist of them both confessing their love; emulating sickly sweet scenes from despised romance movies. Justin would almost laugh at the content of his thoughts, knowing they were the type of passionate musings of fans.

 

Captivating laughter would never materialise. He hadn’t emitted a genuine smile or laugh for what seemed like eons, and he knew that was down to the constancy of arguing. Justin hated the churlish words that flew from their mouths, and looks of disdain that would darken Lance’s handsome features. He detested hurting Lance, but most of the time, he had no choice. He either fought or suffered the humiliation of confessing his authentic sadness. He couldn’t bear the thought of rejection, especially from someone as dear to him as Lance. He confessed to himself that he was too proud to turn his back on the clashes and apologise.

 

His whirlwind of notions troubled him and often pressured his mind into taking a more sinister train of thought. On a few occasions when shaving, his eyes would flit back and forth from the razor to his wrists, and would wonder if anyone would truly miss him if he died.

 

Justin gave one last teary sniff and found the most comfortable position, where he motionlessly lay until sleep finally found him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

            The tension had ascended between Lance and Justin, and both had squandered the day in silence; exclusively taking time out to grace each other with an insult from time to time.

 

Justin had resorted to pestering Lance when he was working. He hovered over his shoulder, alertly watching every word he tapped out on the computer before Lance snapped.

 

“How do I set a laser printer to stun?”

 

“Yeah, you’re funny Lance…Disney movie kind of funny. Which dwarf are ya again?” Justin smirked. He knew it was childish, but Lance’s almost bitchy sarcasm always used to make him laugh. He supposed wanted to see if he could bring that sharpness back as Lance had become quite mean over the past few months.

 

“Fuck, I know they say everyone has a right to be stupid, but now you’re just abusin’ the privilege.”

 

After a while of the lateral retorts, Justin would ultimately render himself speechless and recourse the squabble to a much more primitive age.

 

“Bite me.”

 

The three remaining placidity’s had tried to intervene but to no avail. They would say how sorry the other was, but it became common knowledge that they were merely prompting them to speak and that the disconsolation was a lie.

 

“Just talk to him. If not for you then for us. Save out sanity.” JC leaned inside the cosy bunk of the bus and pleaded to Lance, only to have him shoot a glare and turn over. If looks could kill, then JC would have been on the floor with a chalk line ornamented around him, twice, for Justin had already chosen to air his bad mood with a scowl.

 

“Lance?” The bull-headed attitude did not deter JC but made him all the more determined to get a reaction.

 

“He didn’t mean those things.” JC referred to yesterday’s nasty fight. It had ended close to tears with both Lance and Justin shouting how they wished the other was dead and other such pleasantries.

 

“You used to be such good friends. What happened?” JC knew he was being blunt but felt it compulsory, as for one; the rows tired him, and for two; those kinds of comments seemed to strike a nerve. Lance tensed his body in what JC could only hope was regret.

 

“If I throw a stick, will ya go away?” JC wanted to laugh at the pure sarcasm that emanated from the still figure. He repressed it however, not wanting to push Lance into worse dejection.

 

“Alright buddy, I get the point. I’m goin’.” JC withdrew from the bunk but not without first reminding Lance of his support.

 

“If you ever wanna talk…”

 

“I won’t,” he muttered, giving JC no choice but to let him wallow in his faulted temper.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

            The tour bus had begrudgingly taken them to a studio pit stop for another tiresome photo shoot, courtesy of some blur of a teenage magazine. They were ready to begin when Lance’s irritation had decided to rear its ugly head; disguised in vocal indignities.

 

“Well, your day was a waste of makeup, huh?” Lance said in announcement; scowling at Justin to make sure he knew that the he had pointed the scorn towards him. 

 

Justin morselled his bottom lip and renounced Lance the satisfaction of an abundantly rehearsed “shut up”. He was aiming for a new tactic. Guilt. He flashed him a hurt expression, gazing up from under his eyelashes with a solemn simper and a lip tremble.

 

The look concluded merely three seconds, but was long enough to create an impact; saying more than conflicting words ever could. Justin wasn’t confident of Lance’s thoughts, however his circa faked facial cast sprung a reaction in him that Justin hadn’t seen before. Maybe it had worked.

 

“What?” he asked, after the stares became intense. Green eyes were fixed in an almost eerie lull.

 

“Oh, nothin’. I'm just tryin’ to imagine you with a personality is all,” Lance replied imperturbably, before deeming his cellular phone more piquant.

 

JC swept him a look of sympathy and Justin contiguously recognised its meaning. He had exhausted a multiform of nights crying on JC’s shoulder to fathom the parlance that would instinctively follow. It would include notions such as; “he’ll come around” and the typical; “he doesn’t mean any of it.”

 

Justin would bite his tongue to prevent his entire tale of woe from flooding out. He would tell of how he was gay and that his entire relationship with Britney was about as fake as her orgasms. How he was in love with Lance, and only acted like a jerk to conceal his natural sensitivities. He would have to admit to how terrified he was of showing his emotions. Rejection panicked him and compelled him to keep his secrets under lock and key.

 

He took his lone place in front of the camera, suddenly feeling quite desolate. He missed the security of the group shots, goofing around with the others. He sighed and swapped his upset grimace for a look of seduction, as it became necessary to constrain the enshrouding of his upset. Ignoring Chris’s slight affray with Lance that he could see out of the corner of his eye and kept his mind focused on the photographer’s instructions.

 

“Why do ya gotta be such an ass to him?” Chris asked, hoping Lance hadn’t completely withdrawn himself from speech.

 

“Huh?”

 

“Don’t play dumb with me buddy. I’m better at it.” Lance snorted with something that resembled laughter and Chris felt a little relieved on the inside if he still had a sense of humour. Maybe there was still a glimmer of hope to repair the cracks in Lance and Justin’s relationship.

 

“I’d like to give a damn Chris, really I would… but I don’t.” Or maybe the glimmer was Chris’s imagination.

 

“Seriously Lance, sometimes I think you should put a condom on your head. If you're gonna act like a dick, you might as well dress like one too.”

 

Lance looked virtually shocked at the scathing words. The disturbance in his previously unconcerned demeanour partly hid his guilt because he knew Chris was right. However, he quickly recovered, refusing to swallow his pride and do something as downright low as apologise.

 

“Yesterday was the deadline for all complaints Chris,” he said, eyeing him almost dangerously, before skulking towards the couch while Justin was finishing off his solo shots.

 

“Whatever kinda look you were goin’ for Just, ya missed” he called maliciously, allowing the photographer to snap a shot that pried into Justin’s seemingly tough exterior, producing an image of pure torment and repentance.

 

Before confiscation of the film imminently shown, the click of the lens reciprocally captured Justin’s fist connecting with Lance’s cheek. The camera still snapped; seizing a floored Lance’s stupor turned anger, then Justin’s back as he walked out.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

            “All I’m sayin’ is, try to see it from his point of view.” Joey jogged behind Lance as, fuming with anger; he tore across the private car park and towards the bus in a desperate need for the soothing of ice.

 

“I can’t get my head that far up my ass.” Lance headed directly for the freezer, reeling off a strong of cusses upon discovering the vast emptiness of the icebox.

 

“Fuck, damn it to hell shit stupid fuckin’ cunt fuck!”

 

Joey’s eyes widened. His ears had never received such obscenities from Lance.

 

“Ok, just calm down. Yanno he’s real-”

 

“Calm down?!” Lance’s irate cries interrupted Joey. “Calm down? The asshole gives me a black eye and you want me to calm down?” he cried; wiping the cool drips from a refrigerated cola can on his forming bruise, transferring the wetness to the beginnings of purple tinted skin. 

 

“No disrespect or nothin’ Joe, but cram it.”

 

“Lance, just listen…”

 

“Don’t fuckin’ start with me Joey, you will not win,” he said through gritted teeth, heading towards his bunk in the hope that a nap would relieve some of the pain. Lance had scarcely taken a step, before Joey tightly grasped his arm.

 

“Buddy, don’t go to sleep pissed off…”

 

“I’m not, I’m gonna stay awake and plot me some revenge.” Lance convulsed loose Joey’s grip, but was grabbed again within seconds.

 

“Joe? Did I mention the kick in the groin you’ll be receivin’ if ya touch me?”

 

Joey smiled; an act that was always infectious and although Lance did not reciprocate the grin, he visibly relaxed.

 

“Take all the shots you want Lance. I’ll just follow you around until ya listen to me.”

 

Lance shrugged his shoulders. His melancholy cue gave Joey the go ahead to begin his lecture.

 

“He’s under a shit load of pressure right now, with the group, the press, Britney.”

 

Lance sighed. They were all under pressure but Justin seemed to receive more sympathy.

 

“Why are ya tellin’ me this?”

 

“To make you think about Just’s problems before ya kill the little fucker.” Lance rolled his eyes; an accomplishment that removed the smile that wanted to shine through.

 

“I know there’s some nice stuff in ya right now bud, use it to go easy on the kid.” Joey sighed at the dejected cast on Lance’s face.

 

“Look I know he pisses you off…”

 

“He doesn’t always,” Lance interrupted with his objection. “Sometimes he’s asleep…”

 

Joey smirked, wondering if the witticism was a classic approach of Lance’s old persona, before his sarcasm made an appearance.

 

Lance nodded and Joey slung his arm around the smaller frame.

 

“But I still get a free shot at him” Lance said, smiling slightly even though the freshly formed bruise pained him to do so.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

           

“What the hell did you hit him for?” JC paced the cut off room in the studio that they had found solitary in.

 

“Sometimes you can just look at someone and know how good their face would feel hittin’ the back of your hand.”

 

JC didn’t listen to the hostility and instead proceeded with his rant.

 

“I mean what justifiable reason did you have to fucking hit him?” He was yelling now, procuring Justin to shrink back in apprehension.

 

He shrugged. “He was really startin’ to get to me. I just lost it.”

 

JC sighed and put a hand to a weary head that was starting to ache.

“Just because someone annoys you, doesn’t mean you hit them. If I hit Chris every time he pissed me off, he’d be dead by now.”

 

Justin rolled his tear-filled eyes. JC was captivating his father figure role too intensely at the moment. The lecture caused Justin to stare at his hands, but the red impression on his knuckles broke him down into tears. The incessant arguing had finally worn Justin to his last bearings, and the fistfight had been the final straw.

 

JC dashed to him, drawing him into his arms as Justin’s tears intensified.

 

“I’m just fed up with hatin’ him Jace. This is killin’ me. I don’t really hate him.”

 

“I know,” JC soothed. Justin abruptly sat up, showing off his tear-streaked face.

 

“No, you don’t know Jace. Ya don’t know how much it hurts when we fight.”

 

JC grimaced in the predicament. “Why’s it any different to when me an’ you fight?”

 

Justin took a deep breath. His sobs turned into sniffles as he prepared himself to confess his secrets in their entirety. He bowed his head, doubting he would be capable to look at JC when all was uncovered. JC's small unpredictable side scared Justin, as he was uncertain to his reaction upon receiving the news. 

 

“Because I love him. I love you guys too, but… I love him Jace.” Justin babbled his way through his admission, his cheeks burning with the red curses of embarrassment and his heart violently pulsating against his chest.

 

“You…you’re gay?” JC asked, his voice small and almost scared. Justin didn’t trust himself with words, and substituted words of conformation with a nod of the head.

 

“What about Britney? She’s just for show?” Again, Justin agreed. 

 

“And you… like, you love, Lance…” JC trailed off, frowning slightly as he sanctioned tranquillity, in order for his convictions to narrow into congruence.

Just as he thought the silence itself would kill him, JC spoke.

 

“Okay,” he said sincerely, smiling as Justin jerked his head up to stare him in the eye, hunting for any suggestions of disapproval or disgust, only discovering a void of contrariety.

 

“Okay?” Justin asked, assuring that he had understood precisely.

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“You mean, you’re alright with this?”

 

“What, with you being gay? Sure.”

 

“Why aren’t you yellin’ at me?”

 

Confusion had a strong grip on Justin as he struggled with the notion that his homosexuality was not frowned upon.

 

“Did you want me to yell?” JC smirked.

 

“No! God no, I don’t… it’s just… Crap I can’t believe you’re really okay with this.”

 

“Justin, as long as you aren’t becoming a male whore, and being gay isn’t a new fashion trend of yours, then I’m okay.”

 

Justin laughed a little and fell against JC in a relieved heap, torn between laughter and tears of ease.

 

“Gonna tell Lance?” Justin slumped his shoulders slightly, not wanting his main problem to confront him. He had forgotten it for a few seconds and had enjoyed that weight off his shoulders. Justin shook his head and JC smiled.

“Just, we both know you’re gonna tell him. Any idea when?”

 

“Lets see…it’s a quarter to ten…so…never.”

 

“Just… c’mon. You gotta tell him.”

 

“I dunno Jace, I mean I kinda want to, but after today I don’t think I’ll be able to be within thirty feet of him and not fear for my life.”

 

“This is Lance we’re talking about. He’d forgive anything.”

 

Justin shrugged and wished he could believe those words.

 

“Crap, “ he swore, wiping away the remainders of the tears he had stopped crying a few minutes ago.

 

“I used to have such a handle on life.” Justin shrugged. “Guess it broke.”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

            The tour bus was uncommonly silent, but it wasn’t the peaceful stillness of people resting. It was awkward and tense and hung over the inhabitants like a black rain-cloud.

 

Glares flashed across small spaces, hurting anyone who got in their angry path. The little conversation that there was, was merely polite and endured all but a minute's length.

 

Justin had tried to talk to Lance but merely met a stone cold gaze, and incoherent utterances. Imitating his reaction prior to the physical fight, Justin snapped at the recurring irksome behaviour. He stormed into the lounge area of the bus like a bull in a china shop.

 

“Okay, that’s it! I can’t fuckin’ take anymore of this!”

 

Joey, Chris and JC exchanged glances before they all hurried to escape the intense argument. Slamming the door behind them, they crowded round to listen to the fight. They might not want to visually witness the confrontation, but an air of curiosity still possessed them to listen.

 

“Talk to me dammit!” Justin screamed as Lance once again ignored his mere existence.

 

“And say what? How sorry I am that the aliens forgot to remove your anal probe. How the more time I spend with you, the more I like Busta? Whatever I say Justin, you won’t like it.”

 

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been a complete jerk to you,” Justin had been the one to start the continuous bickering, but Lance had fought back with more venom and sometimes made him think that it should be Lance apologising.

 

“But there’s been a lotta shit goin’ on…sometimes I can’t deal with it.”

 

Lance laughed bitterly. “Yeah, must be a real bitch being loved by everyone. I can’t imagine what you’re goin’ through.”

 

“I’m not talkin’ about any of that stuff!” Justin cried frantically, willing for Lance to listen to him.

 

“Then what? This had better be good. You’re gettin’ in the way of my sittin’ around time.”

 

Justin sighed, and resolved to blurt out everything, just as he had done to JC. He couldn’t exactly turn back now. Lance could be even more unpredictable than JC, and that terrified him. Lance could alter between the extremes of embracing him with a hug, or beating him with a baseball bat.

 

And with a single breath.. “I’m in love with you.” Those words shook Lance more than anything could. His green eyes flashed wide open showing a mixture of negative emotions among the yellow specks that became more prominent. His face colour waned as if a plug had been removed and it was draining away. He tried to stutter a response but had little success. He ducked his head as he stood up. Without looking at Justin, or the others behind the door, he pushed past them and hid in his bunk.

 

JC ran in to Justin. He was practically torn between his comforting his oldest friend and killing Lance. Justin stood in the middle of the lounge area, completely non-expressive.

 

“That went well,” he whispered, before falling into JC’s open arms in unrestrained sobs.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

Lance,

 

Someone once said that the greatest pain that comes from love, is loving someone you can never have. Since meeting you, no quote has been truer in my life. I’ve been close to many people, but not one of them made me feel the way you make me feel. I love waking up because it means I get to see you. I love how you make me so happy and content with myself. You make me a better person.

 

In interviews we’ve been asked if we have any regrets, and my answer had always been the same. Life is for living, not for regretting. But my answer’s changed now. My regret is losing that close friendship I had with you. To put it bluntly I was an ass. I argued with you because I was scared of anyone finding out about my feelings for you. I couldn’t have coped with you rejecting me. We would have tried to save our friendship but we both know after something like that, it would never have been the same again.

 

I could fill a thousand pages telling you how I felt and you still wouldn't understand, so now, I leave without a sound, except my heart shattering as it hits the floor.

 

Dying doesn’t scare me anymore. Without you, I am already dead.

 

Justin.

 

With shaky hands Lance pulled the letter closer to her eyes, hoping that the more he concentrated on it, the words would change from a suicide note to a funny little note that they used to send to each other, just to pester a laugh or a smile from each other.

 

His eyes focused solely on the word dead. He read it repeatedly until his tears blurred it. If it weren’t for the earnest and intimate words, Lance would have put the letter down to Justin’s sick sense of humour. He had written a suicide note before, but that had consisted of “Hi. I’m dead now. Bye”.

 

Lance felt sick to his stomach. He wasn’t sure if he could stand up but he had to find Justin. He stumbled into the lounge area to tell the others what he had found, but found it empty. Damn. They must have already gone to bed. As his blurred eyes flitted around the night-filled room his attention was caught by a still figure sprawled out on the floor.

 

“Justin?” Lance could actually hear his heart pounding as he watched the motionless figure, praying for signs of life. His prayers were answered as he heard a faint whimper of pain.

 

Lance rushed over to him, terrified by the pallid complexion his skin had taken. Justin’s once sparkling eyes were now lifeless holes and odd as it seemed, didn’t even look blue anymore.

 

Lance wiped his eyes and only then did he catch a glimpse of the opened bottle of aspirin clutched between limp, trembling fingers.

 

“How many did you take?” Lance asked, too scared to hear the answer.

 

“Don’t know. Few.” Justin answered in choked out almost incoherently. Lance’s breaths came out in tearful jitters as he wracked his brain for what to do.

 

“Shit Justin…shit” he whispered as Justin’s eyes started to flutter and close.

 

“I love you too,” he sobbed. Justin didn’t hear him.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

The first thing Justin noticed was the burning sensation in his throat and the distinct taste of vomit that laced his tongue. As his vision cleared from the bleary blur of sleep that it was, it became apparent he was in hospital. His chest tightened and his breaths increased in rapidity. He hated hospitals.

 

The thought of staying over night terrified him, with all the sight of those pills and needles. It was at that ironic moment he took to notice the needle in his hand, connecting him to a much needed IV unit. Blood oozed from the tiny crevice of his hand which made Justin turn away. He had never been one to stand the sight of blood, particularly his own.

 

As he turned his head the sight of Lance at his side startled him. In all honestly, Lance was the last person he expected to see at his bedside. What surprised him more was the tear streaked face and red, tired eyes that stood out against blanched skin. His messy, unkempt hair was the finishing touch to his dishevelled appearance. Justin wanted to smile. Lance looked as if it should be him lying on the uncomfortable hospital bed.

 

Lance smiled through his tears as Justin turned to look at him. He never imagined he would see those blue eyes again. He saw Justin open his mouth to endeavour speech, but silenced him with a tender finger on his lips.

 

"Ssh. Don’t say anything." he soothed in a low intonation that had always sent shivers down Justin’s spine.  Lance lowered his eyes to the ground and adopted a grave look that was almost worrisome. As he looked back up, his eyes contained even more tears that refused to fall. He looked angry.

 

"Don’t you ever, ever think anythin’ is so bad that you have to take your own life." Justin felt a headache coming on as he remembered what he had done. He felt sick as he recalled the feel of the rough pills sliding down his throat and how relaxed he felt as he waited for the poison to take its toll on his body. He remembered the terrified face of Lance peering over him, then darkness and a shiver ensued him.

 

Lance sighed, knowing that anger was the wrong road to travel. 

 

"I’m sorry for how I reacted.." Justin let a tear slither down his cheek. Lance looked so small and broken.

 

"I’m not gonna burden you with all this now, you need to rest." A hand was running over Justin’s cheek, wiping tears away with a thumb.

 

"I’ll just say that everything is ok now. You don’t worry about anything anymore." Justin let a diminutive smile flicker over his lips as his eyes fluttered to send him back to sleep. Lance had spoken so genuinely he had to believe him.

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 

   Justin curled up under Lance’s arm as both leant back on the couch. Justin smiled, knowing Lance must be uncomfortable, for Justin was getting a little too big to fit under the crook.

 

"How ya feelin’?" a low voice asked, scared that Justin still might ache as it had only been a few days since his release from hospital. They were lucky, Justin could still be in there if the hospital psychiatrists hadn’t been convinced that Justin wasn’t a liability for further suicide attempts.

 

"A little groggy.. but better now we’re.. well.. you know." Justin blushed a little, still shy over his new found love. As soon as he had woken up properly, he and Lance had a long heart to heart. It had resulting Lance confessing his reciprocated love, something he hadn’t wanted to burden Justin with upon his first return into the land of the living.

 

"Good. I’m still not done lecturing you though.." Lance kidded, producing an exaggerated groan from Justin.

 

"Do you have any idea what I was feelin’ when you were layin’ in hospital. I had no idea if you were alive or not.."

 

"I’m sorry.. I-" he was interrupted.

 

"Don’t play a guys emotions like that."

 

"Lance.." Justin was whining now. He hated to be made to feel guilty.

 

"Don’t Lance me! It ain’t nice to raise someone’s hopes.."

 

Justin’s jaw dropped at the unexpected insult before he burst into laughter. He nudged his lover in the ribs with a sharp elbow, creating a loud "oof" that was filled with a giggle. Justin grinned and settled back against Lance, ecstatic that his life was now emulating his dreams.

 

"I’m glad you’re here Lance.." Justin murmured, fatigue catching up fast with him.

 

"Me too.. I didn’t ever think we’d be together though.."

 

"Why not!?" Justin cried.

 

"I’m not your type" Lance stated simply. "I’m  not inflatable."