Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Don't know. Didn't happen.
"Call me?" Lance asked hopefully, his low voice quiet in the cold night air as he stood in the doorway, holding onto the doorframe as Ace stood a step below on the porch, looking up at him, which was a first all night.
Ace grinned slightly. "You won't be able to get rid of me."
"You say that like I'd want to," Lance tossed back softly, teasingly. His heart skipped as he watched Ace's eyes light up in the moonlight.
"You don't?" Ace asked, his voice low and quiet as he leaned forward a few inches and peered up at Lance through his eyelashes.
"Not exactly," Lance teased, leaning forward and back a few inches as he swung on the doorframe.
Ace smiled impishly, and leaned forward. Lance's smile vanished as his heart picked up rapidly and his heart caught in his throat. Ace's lips gently touched Lance's cheek, and Lance closed his eyes against the sensation, inhaling an almost startled, pleased breath. Ace's lips were soft and sweet and lingered on his cheek even after Ace pulled away and Ace smiled up at him. Lance's lips had fallen apart and he was staring at Ace.
"Night," Ace offered softly, a small smile gracing those lips that were still tinglying against Lance's cheek.
"Night," Lance breathed, still dazed. He watced as Ace flashed a shy, amused smile, and then Ace was turning away, walking down the steps and through the yard, glancing over his shoulder and walking backwards a few steps to look back at Lance, who wasn't sure he didn't want to call after Ace and make him come back. Ace had admitted during their four hour conversation that he wanted to surprise Lance and so parked on the other side of the street, and in the blue lights surrounding the road he waved at the house, and Lance lifted a hand in return, still staring after the boy, who climbed into his car--a JAG, for crying out loud--and then proceeded to drive off.
Lance slowly shut the door, leaning back against it and remembering to lock the ones that JC would be able to open with his key. He bit his lip and repressed his excitement the best that he could, wishing JC was there so that he could gush and go on about Ace. The 18 year old, blond hair, blue-eyed, 6'0 foot, skater-prep was a computer programmer during the day, and he had only been delivering the pizza for his friend because his friend was sick. He was a freaking computer programmer, earning easily a 6-figure paycheck, and they had just snatched him up out of high school! Lance had been so dazed when he saw the boys' id card for the computer company that his jaw had fallen, and Ace had started laughing.
They had spent four hour talking and laughing, eventually moving from the kitchen to the living room and sitting on the couch together. Ace's arm had been on the back of the couch, behind Lance, but he had never tried anything, though Lance was pretty sure he wouldn't have stopped him if he had. No, Ace had been a perfect, innocent, adorable, sweet boy. He was so cute... Cute was just the best adjective for him!
With a dreamy sigh that Lance knew he should have been embarassed about, he pushed off of the door and practically floated to his bedroom, dropping down into his bed and curling up under the covers. He couldn't wait for JC to come home so he could tell his best friend all about his day. Undoubtably, JC would be thrilled for him. Lance just knew it.
Justin glared at his reflection in the mirror. Lance was practically bouncing excitedly as he went through the day, and Justin was just mad. He had no idea what Lance had to be so happy about, but whatever it was, Justin hated it. He had been miserable the night before, trying to avoid 3 girls that stalked him all night, and when he finally tried to dance with someone, they actually surrounded him and the girl and practically pulled the other girls' hair out.
He had left immediately.
Lance being in an excessively good mood didn't help at all, and Justin couldn't help but scowl as he saw Parker resting his hands on Lance's waist as he guided Lance through the movements. Lance sure seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, which again ticked Justin off. Justin was miserable, why wasn't Lance?
That was when Justin got his cruel idea. He purposefully stumbled and smacked his arm back against Joey, which sent Joey flying into Chris. Together they crashed into the ground as the others watched, Justin feeling slightly guilty but a quick glance at Lance and Parker, who were now broken apart, made him feel better. If he wasn't happy, why should Lance be?
Okay, maybe that was a little mean, even for him, but he still didn't feel guilty.
"God damn, Justin," Joey growled unhappily, struggling to sit up. Parker leaned down and grabbed one of his arms while JC took the other, and together they pulled Joey up off of Chris, who was sprawled out on his back and just looking up at the ceiling with a dazed expression. It was Chris that Justin leaned down to get, because it really wasn't Chris' fault. Justin had smacked Joey's arm, but Joey should have been able to keep his balance. Chris, on the other hand, had gotten toppled against by Joey, and that wasn't anything Chris could have helped.
"And they call me klutzy," Justin heard Lance tease. He looked up and over his shoulder with narrowed eyes, watching as Lance settled his arm on JC's shoulder, leaning against JC for support. Justin glared at him.
"You are," Justin tossed back.
"At least I don't take other people down with me when I have a spaz attack," Lance reminded, smirking.
Justin clenched his teeth. "I don't recall any 'with'," he spat. "There was me hitting Joey, Joey falling down and bringing Chris along for the ride, but miraculously I remained on my feet. There was no 'with' involved."
Lance shook his head in mock-disbelief. "Always innocent, Curly Fry," he commented dryly, and Justin glared dangerously at the use of his hated nickname. They had been eating at a Jack-in-the-Box soon after Lance and Justin started fighting all the time, and Justin had accidentally tossed a ketchup packet in Lance's lap. Lance retaliated by throwing his seasoned curly fry, and it blended so well in Justin's hair that the guys started calling him 'Curly Fry'. Justin hadn't been able to eat his once-favorite food since.
"You're asking for it," Justin warned darkly. "Be able to back up your words."
Lance arched an eyebrow. "You challengin' me, Curls?"
Justin scoffed at him in disgust. "You couldn't handle yourself even if I was."
Lance shrugged innocently. "Probably not."
Justin paused and studied him warily. Lance had just admitted that he wouldn't be able to defend himself against Justin, and yet he was still cheerful about it? Did he miss something? "You're rather useless, Lance, aren't you?"
Justin heard a few gasps of surprise, but his eyes were trained solely on Lance, who simply took it all in stride. "Not everyone thinks so," Lance assured him softly, a bit mysteriously. There was a small smile gracing his lips, and Justin's eyes narrowed further. What the hell was Lance being so cheerful about?! Justin had just finished insulting him, and he was smiling! And wait a second... Who was Lance talking about, 'not everyone'?!
"This is ridiculous," Justin muttered, shaking his head in disgust. He turned on Parker, who was looking at him with slightly wide, trepidation-filled eyes. Justin nearly rolled his own in exasperation, then decided that he wanted Parker to be afraid of him. The more Parker was afraid of him, the less he would try to piss Justin off. "Can we go?" Justin asked, looking at the clock against the wall. It was only 11:30, and they were scheduled to work until 12:30, break for an hour, and come back, but the studio was suddenly feeling stuffy and Lance's presense was, quite frankly, putting Justin on edge.
Parker opened his mouth to reply, but Lance cut in. "Of course we can't go, Justin," Lance reminded condescendingly. Justin almost cringed. He knew that Lance was kidding around--mostly--when he called Justin "Curly Fry" or something of the like, but when he used his full name, it was serious. "We've still got another hour. Just because you want something, doesn't mean you're going to get it."
Justin glared at him. "Wanna bet, Poofu?"
Lance's own eyes narrowed. "Careful, Justin," he warned. Justin merely cocked an eyebrow, indicating to him to bring it on. But that was all Lance said, and the longer the silence drew out, the more uncomfortable Justin became. What was Lance planning? Whatever it was, Justin was sure it wouldn't be good.
Parker cleared his throat, probably to stop the deafening silence, but Justin's eyes never wavered from Lance's green ones, which were trained blankly on his. As Justin continued to stare, the rest of the world almost seemed to fade away, and he was suddenly taken back to a time long before he and Lance ever started fighting... Back when JC had broken up with Stan and Lance and Justin, two boys who never really got along all that well anyway, would crawl into bed with their miserable friend. Justin always on the right, Lance always on the left, and always they would throw their arms around JC in the middle. Justin could remember the night his hand had been thrown too far and it had touched Lance's side. He had felt Lance stiffen and when Justin started to pull away, embarassed, he felt Lance's hand sliding up onto his own waist.
They had slept with their arms encompassing each other ever since. At least, for that period in time. And sometimes Justin would lay awake, listening to JC and Lance fall asleep, and then reaching up past JC to peer over his head at Lance, against the pillow, and sometimes he would just watch Lance sleep peacefully. But sometimes--the best times--Lance was still awake, and those bright green eyes would turn onto Justin's, seemingly glowing in the darkness of the hotel rooms. And Justin would rest his head against the pillow over JC's head and stare at Lance, neither ever uttering a word as they stared into each other's eyes for sometimes hours on end. And, a few times, they had even stayed awake the whole night staring into each other's eyes, not even aware that it had gotten daylight out until JC woke up between them and they gave mutual starts of surprise, unsure of where the time had gone. Time had never seemed to exist when he was staring into Lance's eyes, just like it wasn't existing now.
Which meant, that just like what had happened before, he had to go, and he had to do it now.
"You guys can take off an hour early," Parker announced, and Justin shook himself, wondering if he was as white and pale as he felt. To his horror, he discovered that he was shaking slightly, and he couldn't bring himself to meet Lance's eyes again. He couldn't. Parker shrugged and smiled. "It's really not that big of a deal, and you're catching on really quick."
Lance cleared his throat. "I'm staying the full time," he told Parker, and Justin knew without looking that Lance was glaring at him. "Unlike some, I fulfill my commitments."
Justin's anger flashed through him like lightning and he whirled on Lance, glaring at him. "You just need the extra help," he snapped darkly. "You suck so you need as much practice time as you can get, unlike me, who can actually catch on without having to redo something fifty times."
Lance snickered. "You're not as perfect as you think, Rings. And one of these days, you're going to get a very harsh, very painful reality check."
Justin could feel his furiousness building up inside of him, threatening to bubble over, and he knew he had to get out of there, quickly, before he said something really nasty to Lance. He clenched his fists and glared at Lance, hardly able to even put his anger into words. Lance was incredible. How dare he have the audacity to even think he could cast disbursions on Justin's character?! He didn't even know Justin! He knew less than the freaking fans did!
Justin took a deep breath and glared at Lance. "You're lucky," he told him simply, using all of his self control to avoid saying anything more. He wanted Lance to know just how close he had come to being ripped apart from the inside out, but he wasn't even able to verbalize his anger. He stalked to the side of the room, threw his bag over his shoulder, and stormed out of the studio without another word, pushing out of the back door and being slammed immediately by cold Florida air. It was sunny out, though it didn't help the wind at all from being practically frigid.
"Justin!"
Justin froze; stopped short in his tracks as he turned around and warily eyed Chris, who was standing in the studio doorway, holding the door open. Chris looked concerned, and then he looked towards the inside, said something to the guys still in there, and then ran out, joining Justin in the parking lot.
"So where're we going?" Chris asked conversationally, falling in beside Justin. Justin arched an eyebrow in confusion.
"Where do you want to go?" he asked back, and he had to admit he was a little relieved. He hated to eat alone and he didn't know where to go.
Chris sighed contentedly. "I don't care. Anyplace with good food. This is on me. I'm feeling generous."
Justin glanced at him and couldn't resist smiling slightly. Chris had always been there for Justin, especially when he and Lance had ended their tentative friendship so long ago.
Wait... Did he just say that he and Lance weren't friends?
Justin frowned, his heart skipping into his throat. No, that couldn't be true. He and Lance were friends. They just enjoyed taking stabs at each other, and occassionally pulling out a large sword and chopping at the other person's body. But they never actually killed each other, metaphorically speaking. So then why did he suddenly feel nausiated and scared?
"Justin?" Justin was pulled to a stop by Chris' hand on his arm, and he looked up into those warm brown eyes, still stunned at his revelation. "Are you alright? You look awful."
Justin, for once, didn't have any words.
Justin was strangely silent when he and Chris came back from lunch, and when Lance took some jabs at him, he mildly acknowledged them, but he never fought back. At first it provoked Lance into fighting more, but when Justin continued to not register, Lance frowned and left him alone, finally getting a chance to speak to Chris at the break. Chris said that at lunch Justin had been really weird and quiet, like something was really bugging him, but that Chris didn't know what caused it. No one knew, least of all Lance.
Lance mechanically moved his body through the dances, feeling Parker's hands on his waist and occassionally his arms or legs, but he didn't pay Parker any attention. He was, quite frankly, worried about Justin. Justin wasn't even concentrating on the dances, that much was painfully obvious, and when someone told him to get with it, he barely nodded and went back to his blank way.
When the practice was over, Lance considered heavily going to Justin and asking him what was wrong. But Justin was already surrounded by Joey and Chris, and so Lance turned away, stooping down to pick up his bag off of the ground and taking JC's up in the process. JC was standing behind him, one of his hands reaching for the bag and the other resting on Lance's back. Lance smiled at him, wanly greatful for the presense and gesture, but he just wanted to get home and talk to Ace for a while. JC had been happy for him when he'd told him that morning, and Lance was appreciate of his support, especially when JC suggested that Ace come over for dinner sometime soon.
Lance met JC's eyes and then looked out at Justin, who was practically ignoring Joey and Chris, who were almost hanging on him. He hesitated, the temptation to go to Justin's side and place a hand on his arm and ask him what was wrong almost overwhelming. But he couldn't. He just didn't have that kind of relationship with the youngest member of their group.
"Bye guys," Lance called at them and Parker, who was strangely staring at Lance. Lance offered him a smile and Parker returned it.
"Later, Lance; JC," Joey tossed back before returning all of his attention to Justin, who didn't even notice. Lance studied them for a second longer, offered another weak smile at Parker, who was still staring at Lance, and to Lance's confusion, Parker's eyes slowly went to Justin and then back, frowning slightly. Lance returned the frown and then allowed JC to pull him out of the studio, still bewildered at what had appeared to be a gesture. He didn't want Parker to think there was anything between him and Justin. There had never been anything between them.
Though every now and then...
Lance shook himself quickly, his eyes burning brightly into the linolium floor as he and JC walked along the deserted hallway to the front of the building. He would not think of any times he had been insane enough to think he may have feelings for Justin. It stirred up too many emotions and problems and he was not going to deal with it. Not right now.
Justin didn't deserve the time.
"Are you okay?"
Lance shook himself and looked up from where he was gazing out the living room window, curled up in the large chair near the window and watching darkness fall. He smiled weakly at JC, a bit embarassed and a bit annoyed at being interrupted. "Yeah," he assured his best friend, forcing away his annoyance. He patted the bit of chair left and gestured for JC to join him. "Come sit with me, Skinny."
JC smiled, but it never touched his eyes. He slowly lowered himself onto the couch beside Lance, wrapping an arm around Lance's shoulders. Lance, greatful for the warm body, curled up against JC's chest and leaned the back of his head over JC's heart, gazing out the window. "He really got to you, today, didn't he?" JC asked softly, and Lance frowned, knowing perfectly well what JC was referring to. He almost pulled the stupid innocent act, but JC probably wouldn't appreciate it, and Lance wasn't in the mood for a lecture.
"Only after they came back," Lance sighed. "I don't understand what happened to him."
JC nodded, resting his cheek on the top of Lance's head. "You guys always had a strange relationship," he reminded quietly. "No one could ever figure out why."
Lance didn't want to think it. "Justin and I are friends," he stated cautiously. "But that's all we are. We will never be anything more. Never close friends, never best friends, never anything more than just friends. Hardly above acquaintances."
JC cringed at Lance's harsh words, and even Lance hated the way they felt falling out of his mouth. "I'm sorry you two never got along, Lance," JC whispered, and by that time Lance was adjatated and annoyed, and pushed up out of the chair, using JC's stomach to propel himself up and face off against the man still in the chair, his eyes compassionate.
"Don't, JC," Lance warned, but it felt like a plea. "I don't want to think it. We were never that close, we just got along better. It's not fair to keep throwing that back in my face. It's over. It's done. He's a stranger to me, now."
"I don't think he is," JC objected softly, standing as well and looking into Lance's eyes with those piercing blue ones. Lance frowned slightly in confusion, but he waited for JC to continue. "I think that's the problem." Lance's eyes widened in surprise as what JC was saying sunk in, and then JC was patting his arm and leaving the living room, leaving Lance alone to his thoughts. Thoughts he did not want to be having.
The phone rang, thankfully interrupting Lance's mind before it could really start spinning. He snatched for the phone and picked it up, answering it thankfully. "Hello?"
"Hey babe."
Lance smiled instantly at the cheerful voice, blushing at the sweet endearment. "Hey yourself!" he greeted Ace back, glad that it was he on Lance's phone and not some sales person, or worse, Joey and Chris wanting to discuss Justin. "How was your day?"
"Oh, man, you don't even want to know. I wrote 4 lines of code today. Did I say four? Oh yes, I said four. If I was any less of a person I'd go on to explain why it wasn't my fault and it was stupid Gregory's fault for making his damn variables private and not declaring his strings, but you don't really need to know anything about that."
Lance had to laugh. "Did you get it all figured out?"
Ace groaned. "Oh no. Not even close. Gregory is refusing to declare his variables public because he doesn't want me changing them, but he won't write any methods to allow me to even access his information. This makes my job incredibly difficult, because I need Gregory's information to be able to run my own methods and constructors, and my strings are linked in through his and through Sage's, but Gregory is being a punk ass and won't help us out, so Sage and I have to figure out a way past his barriers, which is essentially what declaring those variables private creates." Ace paused. "Do you even understand a word I'm saying?"
Lance blushed sheepishly. "No, but keep talking anyway."
Ace laughed, and even though the phone distorted his voice slightly, Lance still thought he had a great laugh. "You really want to hear about how Sage and I have to try and recreate Gregory's variables and hack into his part of the code?"
Lance had to laugh. "Well, maybe," he offered, grinning. "You could tell me about something else."
"Hmmm... Okay, this chick two floors down... She's a temp, hit on me today, and my coworker told her that I didn't swing her way and she freaked out. Now she won't talk to me anymore."
Lance felt his heart go out to Ace partly in sympathy, and partly in fear that the same reaction would be had of him. "I'm sorry," he apologized softly. "That's terrible. It's amazing how close-minded some people are."
Ace scoffed on the other end of the telephone. "I'm fairly used to it, Lance. It doesn't really bother me anymore." His voice took on a teasing tone. "Besides that, I've been thinking of you all day and that hasn't left me much time to care what other people think."
Lance was glad that Ace wasn't there, because his face was flaming in embarassment and pleasure. "I've been thinking of you, too," he admitted softly, his mind flashing back to that morning when he and Justin got in that fight and his thoughts were merely of Ace's playful smile.
"Well way to make a guy feel good!" Ace laughed. "You just made my day right there. See, who cares about that girl on the 12th floor when I've got you to boost my ego?"
Lance laughed. "Good philosophy," he agreed playfully, curling up to the phone as if Ace were there himself.
"I think so. And speaking of 'having you', what're you doing tomorrow night?"
Lance's heart skipped and plummeted into his stomach before jumping up to his throat. His pulse was racing and he was in shock with pleasure. "I-I-I... Nothing. Why?"
Ace laughed out loud. "Well I was going to ask you to go out with me. I'm thinking dinner, a movie, and... Uhh... Maybe an after-movie snack?" Lance laughed and Ace joined him. "I dunno. Any way to stall you." Lance blushed. "So how about it?"
"Sounds good," Lance agreed embarassedly. "I-I mean, it sounds like fun."
Ace laughed again. "Great! Then how about I pick you up tomorrow night around 5:30?"
Lance sucked in a breath. They didn't even leave the studio until 6. "Ah, it has to be later. I can't get out until... Uhh... 8?"
"Okay. No problem. Then I'll pick you up at 8?"
"Yeah." Lance grinned to himself happily.
"Great. Well, I'll see you at 8 then, because as much as I'd love to keep talking to you, I gotta go."
Lance smiled sweetly. "No problem. Tomorrow, eight, here."
Ace laughed. "Right. Bye."
"Bye." Lance returned softly, listening for the click of Ace's phone. When he heard it, he slowly hung up the phone and sank back into the big chair with a dazed, goofy grin curling his lips up. Ace was so cute and adorable, and he liked Lance. It was actually mind boggling when he thought about it. What someone like Ace would see in someone like Lance was just confusing, but Lance was thrilled.
Lance gazed out the window towards the dark night sky and smiled at his reflection in the glass. Maybe things were finally looking up for him.
Lance frowned as he went through the movements with his arms and legs and body, but he wasn't really concentrating on his dancing. He was completely focused on the hands that were seemingly running up and down his body. He knew that Parker was just trying to be helpful, guiding him through the dances that he was always screwing up, but Parker was so close. So close, in fact, that Lance could feel Parker's breath on his neck. He could feel Parker brushing up against his back occasionally, and it set Lance's teeth on edge as he gritted them together every time he felt Parker's body against his own. He knew that Parker was standing unnecessarily close to him, and when Parker's hand slid from his waist to his stomach to straighten him out, Lance nearly gasped and ended up stumbling backwards, away from the hand, but that only pushed him back against Parker, and then went toppling down.
Lance nearly gasped when he felt Parker's hand caressing his thigh and he looked up quickly into Parker's eyes, his heart pounding. Parker was smiling slightly, and it suddenly dawned on Lance how badly this looked. It looked like he was throwing himself at Parker. Which he had, but it had been an accident, and it wasn't to encourage his actions. It had actually been meant to discourage them, but now that he was laying on top of Parker, there was no way for Parker to have known that, and that scared Lance. He didn't want Parker to get the wrong idea. He didn't even know that Parker swung that way!
"Hello, Clutz," JC greeted playfully, reaching down under Lance's arm and pulling him up to his feet. Lance looked over at him gratefully, noting the surprise and confusion that flickered in JC's eyes, but JC was too conscious to say anything about it right then. Lance knew that he would ask later, though, and he wasn't sure he wanted to discuss it. Maybe... He'd probably just been imagining things, he reasoned, even as Chris and Joey helped Parker up. He'd probably just imagined Parker's hand stroking his leg like it was his own possession. Of course. Just a mistake.
Lance shivered and cautiously met Parker's eyes, which were not only on him, but his lips were curled into an amused smile. Lance's words died on his mouth. Was Parker hitting on him? Jesus, he hoped not. "Sorry," Lance finally apologized, finding his voice. "I just got thrown off."
"No problem," Parker assured him cheerfully. "No big deal." His eyes were almost pointed in the way that they held Lance's, and Lance shifted uncomfortable, smiling weakly. He really hoped he was just reading too much into Parker's actions. He really, really did.
"Can we do this?" Justin demanded impatiently. He was still at the front of the studio in his position, having never moved to help Lance or Parker up. Lance nearly bared his teeth at Justin, tempted to continue to talk to Parker just to piss Justin off. Justin was back to normal, and with a vengance. He had been verbally attacking Lance all morning, and at first it had hurt, but then it just wore thin and provoked Lance's own anger. They'd already been in three shouting matches since 8, and it was only 11.
Still, Lance wasn't in the mood to keep avoiding Parker's eyes, so he turned to the front and faced off against Justin, trying to ignore the feeling of being watched. "What's the hurry, Curly Fry? Got someplace else to be?"
Justin glared at him. "No, I just don't want to waste my time watching you throw yourself at guys. Getting a little pathetic, aren't you, Lance?"
Lance's eyes widened in shock as his jaw fell slack. He could not believe Justin's audacity. Not only that, but he was blushing in embarassment. How dare Justin be so rude? Lance's feelings bubbled up into anger, and he glared at the one at the front of the room. "I don't have to throw myself at anyone," Lance snapped, his hands clenching into painful fists. "Unlike you. How's the slut?"
Justin stalked forward and glared down at Lance. "At least I'm with girls, Lance."
"Hey!" JC protested, but Justin ignored him.
"You're going straight to hell," Justin told Lance coldly, and Lance felt a sinking feeling of dread fill his body. These words... These hateful words, spilling from Justin's mouth... They hurt. They hurt and ached so badly that Lance wanted to cry, and to his horror, he discovered that his eyes were pricking painfully with tears just dying to be shed.
"If I am," Lance whispered darkly, stepping forward so that he was only inches away from Justin's face. "Then I'm taking you with me." With that, he spun and stormed out of the studio. The door wasn't shut behind him for more than ten seconds before his brave bravado fell to pieces and his expression crumbled, shaking his shoulders and wetting his cheeks with tears. He could hear his friends yelling at Justin, and Lance took off running down the hallway, unable to listen for even a second longer. He ran around back hallways, brushing past people that stared at him and trying to shield his face from their view. He wanted away, he wanted privacy, and the god damn guard was following him. Finally he found himself at a dead end and in the corner he crumpled, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his forehead on his knees.
Justin... Justin telling him that he was going to go to hell. Lance had often thought that the reason he and Justin had stopped being friends was because Lance had finally admitted to being bisexual, and even now he wasn't sure, though if what Justin had just said was any indication, it probably was.
"Lance," someone breathed in relief, dropping to their knees in front of him. He stiffened, purposefully keeping his head out of sight, but he said nothing, knowing that his voice would be shaky and thick with tears. "Lance, please, talk to me. I'm so sorry. I... I'm so sorry. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking. Lance, please. I'm sorry."
Lance didn't answer. To answer he'd have to lift his head so Justin could hear him, and he knew that Justin would be able to recognize the tear-coated voice any day of the week. So instead he kept his arms wrapped around his face, shielding it from Justin's view, and sat there, listening to Justin's pleas for forgiveness. And then his hand was on Lance's arm, a tenative touch, and Lance jumped, startled and angry at the same time, finally looking up hatefully at Justin. "Careful, Justin, you're touching a fag," he spat furiously, shoving Justin's hand away from him. He did a small double-take when he saw Justin's cheeks wet with tears that were still pouring from his eyes.
"No," Justin whispered softly, shaking his head and closing his eyes, but tears still continued to slip past them. "No, Lance." He opened his eyes and revealed a bright blue. "No, I'm touching you." He placed his hands on Lance's knees, pushing them slightly apart, and then leaned against Lance's chest between them before hugging Lance's waist tightly. "I'm so sorry, Lance. Please forgive me. I'm so sorry."
Lance didn't want to forgive him. Lance wanted to hurt him... To make him feel the same pain and emptiness that he was. And so he shoved Justin back away from him, ignoring the small pang he felt at the loss of contact, and glared into Justin's tear filled eyes. "Get away from me," he ordered darkly, menacingly. "I don't want to see you."
"You're in my hallway," Justin objected quietly, sniffing. Lance frowned, caught off guard, and looked around. It was true, actually. This was the hallway that Justin had run to the other day when Lance pissed him off. "You must have wanted me to find you."
Lance glared at him. "No," he snapped. "Get away. Go. I wouldn't want you to get seen with someone that's going straight to hell. Now get away from me." When Justin opened his mouth to object, Lance reached out and shoved him on the chest. Hard. So hard, in fact, that Justin went sprawling backwards, and Lance was tempted to throw himself against Justin again and take a few good wacks. "Go away!" he barked.
Justin sat up, his eyes narrowing in anger. His tears were already disappearing, and snidely Lance wondered how fake they were. Justin was famous for saying stuff he didn't mean. "I'm trying to apologize for something I shouldn't have said," Justin shot back.
"Yeah? Well, let me borrow a line from your book," Lance suggested, then leaned forward and spoke with his face only inches from Justin's, glaring dangerously into Justin's eyes. "I really hate you sometimes, Justin."
"You look..." Ace faltered and Lance blushed. "Hot. Damn. You are sexy, you know that?"
Lance flushed bright red. "I-I-I... Thank you?" Like Ace should be anyone to talk. He looked perfect, standing there in khaki's and a long sleeved, all one color dark blue shirt with white stripes going down the sleeves. Lance had never seen anyone look quite so fine before.
Ace laughed out loud and held out a dozen roses. Lance laughed and took them happily, smelling them. "I wasn't sure what you'd like," Ace explained, and Lance peered past the red blooms to the boy on the front porch, who was grinning up at him and leaning against the inside doorframe. "So I thought I'd just go traditional."
"They're beautiful," Lance assured him gently. "I'll go put these in water. Want to come in?"
"Sure," Ace agreed easily, and Lance smiled and stepped back from the door even as Ace stepped in. They smiled at each other and Lance turned, leading the way to the kitchen. JC was in the bedroom, purposefully making himself scarce. Lance had been a nervous wreck for the past hour and a half, and without JC to calm him down, he'd probably still be a nervous wreck. As it was he was shaking, but not quite as violently as he had been.
"So how was your day?" Ace asked, dropping down fluidly into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. He had the grace of a dancer, Lance thought, studying him, and then flashed a smile when he realized that Ace was waiting for him to answer. He blushed and quickly turned to the sink to get a vase.
"It was a day," Lance sighed, thinking back to his fight with Justin. Justin had refused to talk to him after that, not that Lance had tried talking to him. They didn't even look at each other for the rest of the day, and the other guys just walked around on eggshells. When it was time to go, they practically ran out in opposite directions.
"Sounds like it," Ace commented sympethetically. "I'm sorry."
Lance sighed. "Me too." He stuck the roses in the vase and smiled at them, turning to face Ace with the same expression. "Thank you. They're beautiful."
Ace grinned. "Glad you think so." He stood and held out his hand for Lance to take. "C'mon," he urged playfully. "Let me take your mind off of your day."
Lance slipped his hand into Ace's.
"Did he kiss you?"
Lance gasped in surprise as JC's quiet, tired voice filled the bedroom. He stumbled against the dresser, his foot caught in his pajama bottoms, and he cried out as his shin hit the corner. "Owww..." he moaned, sitting down on the ground in his boxers and with his pants half-way down his legs, clutching his shin. "Damn, Jace, I thought you were asleep."
JC grunted something like half-sleep gibberish before Lance was able to make out actual words. "I was. You're in late."
Lance immediately looked to the clock beside the bed. It was pretty late, almost 2 a.m. And they had to be at the studio by 8. Still, as tired as Lance was physically, mentally he was wide awake and excited. "Not too late," he disagreed softly. "And yes, he kissed me, but only on the cheek. We're going slowly."
"Well where did you guys go?"
Lance rubbed his throbbing leg one more time before painfully standing and dragging himself up using the dresser, pulling his pants up all the way before limping to the bed and dropping down beside JC, sliding over until his head rested on JC's shoulder and throwing an arm over JC's stomach. JC wrapped his arm over Lance, kissed his head, and listened as Lance spoke. "We went to dinner at the Pao Lawrence. He paid. Then we went and saw, 'Dude, Where's my Car?' and he paid. It was really good, by the way. And then we went out for coffee at this little diner and had some ice cream and pie and laughed the whole time." Lance sighed happily. "He's so much fun, JC. And he paid for the entire date, even when I tried to tell him that it wasn't necessary."
JC chuckled softly. "But he paid. That's great. You're a guy, you know what that means."
Lance laughed. "I know. It means that he likes me. But I knew he liked me, Jace. He's being so careful and gentle about everything. It took him almost half an hour to put his arm around my shoulders at the movie. And he's so playful. Like, at the coffee shop, he kept nudging me with his foot to make me smile." He sighed contentedly. "Jace, he's amazing."
JC laughed and hugged Lance, kissing his forehead. "Good. I'm happy for you, Lance." He hesitated, then continued. "I talked to Justin while you were gone. He's a mess, Lance. He really does feel bad about what he said. He's been apologizing to me all day, and being as he said it to you, I'm sure he feels even worse that you won't accept his apology. He doesn't know what to do to make it better."
"Let's see... He could start with leaving me alone," Lance suggested mock-brightly, then his entire demeanor darkened as the days' events flooded his mind, and he snuggled up against JC further, trying to block out the memories of Justin with Ace. "I don't want to talk about him, Jace. I don't even want to think about him."
JC sighed softly, against Lance's hair. "Alright, you don't have to. I just thought you should know that he feels really bad." He cleared his throat. "Really bad, Lance. He, umm... Look, he made me promise not to tell you, but he was crying."
Lance's heart panged, but he hardened it as soon as he felt it. It was probably just a ploy, he told himself. Justin was just trying to make JC feel sorry for him, like he had with Lance earlier that morning. But Lance wouldn't fall for it. Lance would be strong against Justin's meaningless, empty words. Because that was what Justin was. Meaningless. Empty. Hateful.
"Go to bed, JC," Lance muttered, suddenly not wanting to curl up to his best friend anymore. He wanted to scoot to the farthest part of the bed, away from the warm body beside him, and feel cold and empty inside, just like Justin. Heartless and alone. He would wait until JC was asleep, and then he would move away, because he didn't want to be warm anymore. He wanted his body to feel as his insides did.
Like Justin.
Lance's heart was in his throat when he and JC calmly walked down the building's sterile hallways to the studio. Lance was scared and nervous and shaking all at the same time, trepidation building with every step he took towards that door. Justin would be inside, and he would have to face him. There would be no way to avoid it. He would give anything to do so. He had hardly gotten any sleep that night, thinking about Justin when he should have been dreaming about Ace. So not only was he cranky, he was scared, and that was always a volitile combination.
"Forgive him," JC whispered in Lance's ear before pushing open the door. Lance froze at the soft breath on his ear, and met JC's eyes. "For both of your sakes," JC continued softly, and Lance hesitated before following JC inside.
The first thing that Lance noticed was that there was music playing. The second thing he noticed was that Joey and Chris were sitting in the middle of the floor with Parker and Justin, who was leaning his elbow on his knee and his chin in his palm. He looked terrible. His hair was tied down in a bandana and he wore a baggy tee shirt with baggy khaki's, and he had large bags of exhaustion under his eyes. Lance's heart broke at the sight of him, which only made him shake himself to try and remain strong.
Still, he could feel his defenses crumbling, and he knew that if Justin looked up at him that he wasn't going to be able to resist.
But Justin didn't look up. His eyes remained fastened on the floor. Chris and Joey were exchanging wary looks, and Parker was just flat out staring at Lance, making him more uncomfortable than he already was. He really wished that Parker wouldn't do that, but he was too polite to say anything.
Finally JC cleared his throat. "Well," he began with forced brightness as he clapped his hands together. "We're here! Let's get started!"
Lance was still studying Justin, who didn't lift his eyes the four in the center stood and took their positions. Lance hesitantly set his bag down on the ground with the other guys, then made his way to his spot, still looking at Justin and still feeling Parker's eyes burning into him. He grew hot and agitated, shifting nervously. Parker needed to cut it out, and he needed to do it now.
They weren't ten minutes into the practice when Parker was beside Lance and reguiding his arms. Lance swallowed hard, knowing that the caresses Parker was placing on his body weren't normal. He'd worked with enough choreographer's to know that. He pursed his lips to keep from saying something, nearly gasping and staggering forward when he felt Parker practically grind against him. As it was he lost the beat, and Parker stepped back, smiling slightly as they all looked at him. He flushed bright red, still shocked, and rubbed his forehead as Parker went to go reset the music.
"Sorry," Lance finally muttered, stiffening when he felt JC's hand on his shoulder. He felt JC in turn stiffen in surprise, and then his grip became possessive, worried.
"Happens to the best of us," JC assured him, and Lance could feel the forced cheerfulness of his tone. His hand was clamped down firmly on Lance's shoulder, and Lance wasn't sure how long he could keep the smile on his face with the way that his shoulder was throbbing under JC's grip.
"Ready to try again?" Parker asked, and Lance nodded.
"Absolutely," he agreed, with fake-enthusiasm that he just hoped the others bought. They seemed to, and after a hesitation, JC's hand slid down his arm as he went to his spot, and Lance looked up at him as he walked away. JC knew something was up, and JC wasn't going to let Lance get away without explaining what it was.
It was going to be a long day.
~~~~End Part Four~~~~