Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Don't know. Didn't happen.
"Hey," Ace greeted softly, kissing Lance on the cheek as Lance pulled open the door. Lance flinched and then instantly berated himself. This was Ace, just like it had been JC earlier. They weren't going to hurt or touch him in anyway that he wasn't comfortable with.
Still, he felt... Violated...
Parker had spent the entire rest of the day rubbing up against Lance, touching him in sensitive spots that made goose bumps break out all over his body, and when Lance tried to say something or turn around to make it stop, Parker's eyes were so innocent, his face confused when Lance told him to, "Cut it out," in a breathed whisper warning. He had been more than eager to get out of there when it was finally time to go home, practically running out of the room with JC. He was shaking inside and out, and there was a large knot in his stomach that hadn't faded all day. He was exhausted and scared, but he couldn't tell JC, despite all of JC's prodding as they drove home and as they ate dinner. Eventually, a very hurt JC had wandered off to bed, leaving Lance feeling alone and guilty. So, Lance had called Ace to come over, and the boy had automatically agreed, and here he was, and Lance flinched under his touch.
Ace's eyes were wide and confused, and Lance hesitantly met them, wondering if Ace could see how dirty he actually was just through his eyes. He had spent all day thinking that maybe he had done it... Maybe he had made Parker believe that it was okay... After all, Justin had blurted out that he was gay, well, bi, but Justin had said gay. Maybe Parker just picked up on the signals wrong and decided to make a move because they were both gay. But Lance tried to hold him off; tried to tell himself that he hadn't insinuated anything, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that maybe he had let his eyes linger on Parker for just a moment too long. Maybe he had let his hands drift over Parker's while they were dancing. Maybe he had stepped back against Parker. Maybe it was all his fault.
"Sorry," Ace finally said, sounding confused and hurt. "I didn't mean to--"
"No," Lance objected immediately, sparking up and meeting Ace's eyes with trepidation and reassurance. "It's not... I mean, you didn't..." he trailed off, not sure where to take either of those sentences, and as his eyes met Ace's blue ones in the moonlight, he smiled gently. "I'm glad you're here."
Ace's face cleared and he smiled back in relief. "Me too. I'm glad you called."
Lance couldn't resist reaching out and lightly cupping the side of Ace's face, resting his thumb in front of Ace's ear and his palm under it, his fingers lightly touching Ace's hair. Ace leaned into the touch, his eyes on Lance's arm. Slowly he raised his eyes, and Lance watched as those blue trailed up his chest, over his lips, and finally up to meet his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was slightly shaky. "I think we should go inside," Ace suggested softly, and Lance nodded, lightly applying pressure to the back of Ace's head with his fingers to guide him inside.
The door wasn't shut for ten seconds before Lance was backed up against it, his hands pinned out at his sides, and then Ace's mouth was descending on his. Lance felt their fingers intertwine as he kissed Ace, trying to lose himself and all of his thoughts through the action. He didn't want to think, and kissing was good for that. Ace's mouth was soft and sweet, but there was an underlying, almost frantic passion that Lance could feel starting to consume them as they stood in the hallway, pressed up against the door and trying to get as close as possible. Ace's body was hard and muscular, and carefully Lance detached his hands, running them up Ace's arms as Ace's mouth trailed to his neck. Once Lance's hands were on Ace's shoulders, he ran them down Ace's chest and back up again, nearly sighing in delight as Ace's mouth made its way back to his own.
And then, somehow, they made their way from the hallway to the living room, and Ace was on top of him on the couch, and Lance lost himself, trying to convince himself that if he were bad, or dirty, that Ace wouldn't be there with him. He wasn't dirty, he wasn't. Ace was going to show him that he wasn't dirty.
A nagging voice in Lance's head reminded him of the way that Parker's hands felt on his body, touching him the same way that Ace was touching him now. And tears came to his eyes as he flashed between memories of Parker's touch and the way Ace's touch felt at that moment, and they were so similiar and his eyes flew open, wanting to stop now and not knowing how to say it. His heart beat picked up rapidly, his breathing became more and more shallow, and the pit in his stomach that had been there all day tightened so much that it was making him sick and he opened his mouth to scream, "Stop!" but nothing came out and Ace's hands were everywhere all at once and Lance was being smothered alive, the rushing sound in his head drowning out all outside noises, and Lance knew it was going to far, and Ace's face became Parker's and Parker's touch kept flashing through his mind, until Lance finally gave a choked sob and pushed with all of his strength.
There was a loud thud as Ace hit the floor and gave an exclaimation of surprise, and Lance finally snapped back to reality, horror widening his eyes. What had he just done?! Ace wasn't Parker, and now Ace was going to demand to know what was wrong--if he ever spoke to Lance again--and then what was Lance going to tell him?! What had Lance gotten himself into?!
"Oh my god," Lance breathed, reaching down to help a very stunned, very confused Ace up. "Ace, I am so sorry. I-I didn't mean to..."
Ace slowly looked up at him, brushing away Lance's hands as he knelt on the ground, placing his hands carefully on Lance's knees. "If I'm going to fast for you," he began slowly. "Tell me." He smiled slightly. "Throwing me off the couch works, too."
Lance couldn't help it. He grabbed Ace under his arms and hauled him up before throwing his arms around Ace's waist and hugging him as tightly as he could, clenching his eyes shut. He was so grateful to Ace... For Ace. Ace didn't ask questions, he recovered from ackward and embarassing situations easily, and he was such a gentleman. Lance wasn't sure how he got so lucky, but he was grateful.
Ace's fingers lightly stroked Lance's back, and Lance nearly sighed. Very, very grateful.
"Just go home already, damn it!"
Lance glared at Justin darkly. "What's wrong, Curly Fry? Can't deal with me anymore?"
Justin glared back. "Not with this attitude that you've been coppin' all day! What the hell is the matter with you? You're driving everyone nuts!"
"A little late for that," Lance drawled dryly, ignoring the hurt looks of his friends. In his mind, he knew that Justin was right, that he had been purposefully picking fights with everyone, but it was just that he was so cranky and they kept touching him when he made it perfectly clear that no one was to touch him. He'd covered as much of his body as possible, with his khaki's and long sleeved tee shirt, but no one was paying his body language any attention. So they continued to talk to him and he continued to try and get them to go away until he'd said the wrong thing to Justin--Lance didn't even honestly remember what he'd said--and Justin had exploded, and they'd been arguing for 15 minutes already.
"Lance, just go home!" Justin begged, exasperated. "You've already pissed me off, and now everyone else is getting pissed at you, too! Just go home and take a nap and come back tomorrow when you remember not to be such a dick!"
"I don't feel like going home," Lance announced boredly. "And this entire conversation is really getting on my nerves, so if we could, you know, cut it out, I'd really like it."
"Damn it, Lance!" Justin howled. "I'm going to punch you and tear out all of your hair! I swear I will if you don't shut up!"
Lance arched an eyebrow. "Damn, Justin. Violent, much?"
Justin let out a low growl. "Lance, you're driving me crazy! Will you just go home already?"
Lance turned to JC for support. "Jace, am I annoying you?"
"Quite frankly, no. But you are scaring me."
Lance frowned slightly, caught off guard. "I'm what?"
JC slowly stepped forward, deliberately placing his hand on Lance's shoulders. "Lance, look at me," he instructed softly, and Lance met his eyes mistrustfully, trying to figure out where JC was going to go with this. "Is there a reason that you're acting like this?"
Lance scowled at him. "Other than Curly Fry's an idiot? Nope."
"Lance, I swear to god--" Justin began shouting, stepping towards Lance threateningly. Lance turned to him expectantly, only to watch Justin get caught by Chris around the waist and held back.
"Both of you stop," Chris ordered firmly, his hand clamping down on Justin's mouth. "Lance, I don't know what's wrong with you, but stop baiting Justin. And Justin," Chris gave him a little shake, "you stop fighting with Lance. Got it? We just have to get through this day and then we can all go home."
Lance shrugged flippantly. "I don't care. He's the one who keeps arguing." Lance smirked as Justin tried to rush at him but was again held back by Chris. "Temper, temper, Justin."
Justin's jaw clenched and he glared dangerously at Lance. "I suggest you don't talk to me for the rest of the day," he warned darkly. "Otherwise I may hurt Chris just to get to you."
Lance smiled devilishly. "Try it," he suggested.
Justin surged forward again, and this time it took both Chris and Joey to hold him back, and JC even pushed Lance behind himself while Lance could only laugh. He felt cold and empty inside... Justin should, too. "Justin, Justin, Justin," Lance taunted. "You're like a caged animal, right now."
Justin struggled against Joey and Chris, who were using all of their strength to keep him back. "Lance cut it out!" Chris hissed angrily. "Otherwise we're going to turn him loose and let him maul you."
"He'd enjoy it too much for it to be a punishment," Lance announced boredly, then stiffened and paled when he felt a now-familiar touch on his back. He slowly looked up over his shoulder at Parker.
"Let's just get through today, alright?" Parker suggested smoothly, and Lance nearly cringed, his heart-beat picking up rapidly. Why wouldn't Parker leave him alone? What had he done? What had he said to lead Parker to believe that it was okay to touch him? Most importantly, how could he make it stop?
"Sure," Lance agreed, his voice sounding soft in his own ears. It was such a contrast to the brash tone he'd been using only seconds before that JC turned around and looked down at him, but Lance shamefully dropped his eyes, staring at the ground.
"Fantastic," Parker drawled, allowing his hand to trail over Lance's back. Lance repressed his urge to shudder and instead tried to smile weakly, still staring at the ground. He was sure his face was red, and he didn't want to face his friends like that. He didn't want to face anyone like that. He wanted to go home and curl up in his bed and pretend that his skin wasn't marred or dirty from where Parker touched. Pretend, of course, being the operative word.
Lance squirmed away from Parker's touch and crossed to his position, closing his eyes as he tried to regain his self-control. There was a thick pit in his stomach threatening to come back up if he wasn't careful. He slowly counted to ten and when he reopened his eyes, he found that the other guys were in their positions, and Justin's eyes were glaring at him in the mirror, daring Lance to say something so that Justin could rush at him. Everyone was on guard and on edge, but they didn't have to worry. Not right now. Lance was too sick to his stomach to pay any attention to Justin. He had a bad feeling that things were only going to get worse.
Unfortunately, Lance was right. A week later, Justin wouldn't even look at Lance except hatefully. He could barely manage to speak without throwing in an insult at Lance, his anger evident at all times. Not that Lance could blame him--he'd done everything possible to Justin, from picking fights with him on purpose to throwing him off on the dance moves when they had to do something together. His relationship with the other guys wasn't much better. Lance was keeping them all away, refusing to let any of them in on the secret touches Parker often used on him, and one night, when Lance had stayed late at Parker's request, Parker had been so incredibly forward that Lance had told him he wasn't interested. Parker had pretended to feign ignorance, and then laugh it off, but Lance knew the truth. He could see the coldness in those brown eyes, and it scared him. He lived in fear of Parker and Parker's next move, which didn't give him a lot of time for anything else.
Including Ace.
Ace was growing more and more miffed every time Lance would hang up the phone after a simple goodbye. At first he had apologized for being so forward, and then when Lance's attitude didn't change, he grew irritable and the night before had announced to Lance that if Lance wasn't going to be committed to a relationship with him, Ace wasn't going to be, either. Ace had hung up after that, and Lance hadn't bothered to stop him. The boy was better off with someone who was clean, anyway.
It was around noon and they were all exhausted, especially Lance, who on top of working later than everyone else, wasn't eating or sleeping well. JC had actually gone back to his own house, and instead of stopping him, Lance merely gave him rides to the studio. They spent car rides in terse silence, and when JC broke down one night, Lance calmly requested that he get out of the car. He had wanted to pour his heart out to JC, but he couldn't let his best friend know how dirty he was, so he had kept it hidden. After that, JC barely spoke to him.
Lance was an isolated island.
And Parker was delighted.
Lance could tell by the way Parker's grip had become so much more firm. By the way that Parker laughed softly in his ear, and by the way that Parker roughly rubbed his shoulders when the other guys excluded him as they all plopped onto the couch together. Parker had made Lance push everyone but him out of his life, and it had worked beautifully. Lance's resistance had worn thin, and finally, he was ready to give up.
"I brought lunch!" a cheerful, vaguely familiar voice sang. Lance frowned as he looked towards the now open door to the back parking lot. There was a figure standing there, but the sunlight behind him was so bright that they couldn't get a look at him. The boy let the door fall behind him and hurried to Parker, at the front of the studio for once instead of behind Lance, and set down the four McDonald's bags before throwing his arms around Parker's neck and giving him a large kiss on the cheek. "So these are the guys, huh?" the boy asked playfully, an arm around Parker's shoulders. As Lance blinked a few times, the sunspots finally dying from his eyesight, his eyes grew wide and he blinked again, just in case his mind was playing tricks on him. His heart beat began to pick up and pound against his ribcage, and his pulse started rushing in his ears as a cold sweat broke out over his body. It couldn't be... It couldn't be, it couldn't be...
"Yeah," Parker agreed easily, slinging an arm around the boy's waist. "Guys, this is Ace. Ace, this is Joey, Justin, Chris, JC, and Lance."
Ace's head snapped to Lance, his smile falling instantly as his eyes locked with Lance's. Lance felt like his heart was being ripped out, and he swallowed hard, dropping his eyes before slowly raising them angrily. So Ace was Parker's too, huh? Lance was just a playtoy to both of them? Perfect. Fine. He was a playtoy. He was nothing but a dirty, disgusting playtoy.
"Ace?" JC repeated, frowning. Lance slid his eyes from the shocked boy to JC, who was looking between Ace and Lance, his eyes growing wide as his eyes settled on Ace. "Ace?" he said again, sounding astonished. His eyes narrowed and he stalked to Lance's side, wrapping an arm around Lance's shoulders.
Lance winced and shoved him off as he stepped away, scowling darkly at JC, who was now looking at Lance in disbelief. "Don't," Lance warned softly, flushing slightly. He wanted to feel guilty about his actions, but he couldn't. It felt like his entire life consisted of hands touching him, now, and he was helpless against most of them. And JC... JC was so pure, so wonderful. JC was his best friend. He didn't deserve to get contaminated by touching Lance's filthy skin.
"Do you two know each other?" Parker asked, looking between Lance and Ace with a slight frown. Lance almost winced again. Perfect, now Parker was probably going to punish him or something. Lance could only imagine how Parker punished... Oh fuck...
"No," Lance blurted quickly. "I-I mean, he delivered pizza to us, once, right Jace?" Silently he turned pleading eyes onto his best friend, begging him to understand and back him up. He needed JC, he did. Right now he needed him more than anything...
"Right," JC agreed easily, grinning. "Sorry about hittin' on you, man, but you were the cutest pizza boy we've seen in a while. If I had known that you and Parker were together, I never would have tried anything."
Chris burst out laughing. "Oh, JC, that is so like you."
"Always hittin' on the taken ones," Joey teased. "You've got awful taste, JC."
Lance, meanwhile, looked up at JC gratefully. He knew he'd probably owe JC for the rest of his life for this, especially after everything, but JC only glanced down at him and smiled supportively before turning his attention back to the group. Lance again felt a surge of gratitude to his taller, older friend, wondering if he would ever be able to repay him.
Ace cleared his throat. "It's okay," he agreed, his voice decidedly sullen. "I'm used to it."
"That's 'cause you're cute," Parker teased, giving him a little shake. Ace smiled tightly, his eyes pointedly meeting Lance's, who only glared back at him. "So anyway," Parker continued. "What're you doing here?"
Ace's eyes tore away from Lance's, looking at the bags he'd discarded on the floor. "I bought y'all lunch. I wanted to meet the guys you always talk about." He glared back at Lance. "I have to go, though. I'm only on my lunch break."
"Is that bitch still working you to the bone?"
Ace shrugged. "Part of the job."
"How many lines have you written so far?"
Ace glowered indignantly. "Don't even get me started. I'm still trying to figure out a way past those damn private variables." He cleared his throat and deliberately looked into Lance's eyes and then up at Parker's. "Anyway, I gotta go. I'll see you later, okay?"
"Sure," Parker agreed, giving him a gentle kiss on the lips that made Lance's heart bleed. Lance actually had to look away, feeling tears of anger and hurt prick his eyes. So that was it, then. Ace had played him all along. Now not only was he dirty, he was cheap, too.
"It was nice to meet y'all," Ace said to them, but Lance couldn't look at anything except the floor. It just hurt too badly. His stomach had a huge knot in it, and he was sure that his weak stomach wasn't going to be able to handle the situation for much longer.
"Maybe I'll deliver pizza's to you guys again," Ace stated pointedly, and Lance clenched his teeth.
"Maybe," JC agreed. "But we're actually really not big pizza people." A blatant lie, but Ace didn't need to know that.
"Yeah," Justin suddenly chimed in, and Lance frowned, so surprised that he looked up and watched in astonishment as Justin crossed casually to Lance's side and slipped an arm around his shoulders. Lance stiffened but didn't wince, a step up for him. He chalked it up to being too surprised to react. He had no idea what Justin was doing, but Justin looked perfectly normal. "Normally we go for something a little... Spicer, right Lansten?"
Lance looked up at Justin and their eyes met, and in those blue eyes Lance found that despite everything that was happening, Justin was right there for him in his hour of need. Justin wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew Lance needed bailing out, and so that was what he was doing. Lance actually had to swallow the lump forming in his throat as he slipped his arm around Justin's waist. "Right," he agreed flirtatiously, watching as Justin smiled approvingly at him, and then over at Ace, whose jaw had fallen slightly.
"Well, maybe another way, then," Ace amended, his eyes narrowed mistrustfully as he stared at Lance in unhappiness. Lance felt Justin's arm on him tighten possessively, and then Ace was bidding them all farewell, giving Lance one last look before stalking out of the studio.
Justin released Lance immediately and went straight for the food. "I'm starved," he announced. "Absolutely famished." He tore into one of the bags and sighed happily. "Cheeseburgers, perfect." He held one up. "Heads!" As was custom, he threw it out to the center for someone to catch. Joey and Chris both ran for it, but Joey reached it first and Chris pouted even as another one was thrown directly into his stomach with Justin's careful aim.
Lance hesitantly looked up at JC, who was gazing down at him almost sadly. "Yeah," Lance whispered softly, dropping his eyes. "It was him, Jace."
JC hugged him.
"Later, guys!" Justin called, lifting a hand in a wave. Joey and Chris honked their horn and Justin laughed slightly as JC made a begging motion from the backseat of the car. Justin climbed into his car, sticking the key into the ignition. He frowned suddenly, trying to remember if he had stuck his wallet in his bag. It wasn't in his pocket, but he patted it just to make sure. No, it wasn't there. Damn it, that meant it was either in his bag or inside, and it was probably inside because he didn't remember putting it in his bag.
Still, in hope, he reached into the back and tugged his bag through, flipping on the interior lights as he pawed through his stuff. It was a hopeless endeavor--his wallet was not there and he could not go without it. How awful would it look if someone how to bail Justin Timberlake out of jail for driving without a license? Justin made a face just thinking about it. The PR people would kill him.
With a loud, exasperated sigh, Justin yanked the key out of the ignition and climbed out of the car, relocking it and angrily stomping to the studio. It figured that the one night Parker told Lance he didn't have to stay late to work on the dances would be the day that Justin forgot his wallet and so couldn't just knock on the door. He made his way to the front of the studio, then nervously made his way along the silent, dead hallways. The building at night always gave him the creeps, like something was going to jump out of the shadows at him at any moment. It was just unsettling, this building in the dark.
Justin frowned when he reached the studio doors. The lights were on, he could see that around the doorframe, but he could have sworn that Parker said Lance could go--
"Parker, stop it!"
"He called you last night, didn't he?"
Justin frowned in confusion, disturbed by what he was hearing. He pressed his ear to the door, listening to the two arguing. He wasn't exactly surprised that Lance was arguing. He had spent the past two weeks arguing with Lance, to the point where they could hardly speak to one another. Even the other guys weren't being very friendly to Lance. Lance was being a loner, and if someone tried talking to him, he never met their eyes and always got away quickly. No one was sure what was going on.
"No, he didn't--"
"Don't lie to me!" Parker shouted, and even Justin winced and flinched back from the door in shock. "Ace is mine, Lance, just like you are, understand?"
Justin's mind reeled. What the hell was going on?! He pressed his ear back to the door, listening intently. His heart was thudding against his chest, and his pulse was so loud in his ear that he almost missed Lance speaking.
"I haven't seen or spoken to Ace since that day in the studio last week," Lance told Parker softly, almost bitterly. "I've had no contact with him whatsoever."
"Liar!" Parker hissed. "You lying piece of shit! You think that he'd want a dirty fag like you? After you've been tarnished?"
There was no answer from Lance, but Justin's mouth had turned to cotton as his mind reeled. It couldn't be, it couldn't be. Dear god, no... It couldn't be...
"Let's get this off, hmm?" Parker purred then, and Justin nearly gasped as he listened to something fall onto the ground.
"Parker--" Lance protested feebly.
"Shut up!" Parker hissed furiously. "D'you want me to tie you up like the first time? I get fun either way, Lance, but this way is much more comfortable for you." His voice softened. "Lance, you're my puppet. My play toy. You do as I say because I am in charge. Why can't you get that through your head?"
Justin's eyes widened in horror as he heard a clink of some kind, and with that, he pushed off of the door and then kicked it open, storming inside to a sight that sickened him as Parker and Lance's heads snapped to the side and stared at him. Parker in shock, Lance with a sick, horrified expression.
"What the fuck is going on?" Justin roared, swooping down and snatching up Lance's shirt from the ground, where it had landed near the door. Lance was shirtless, alright, and Parker's hands were on his pants, undoing them while Lance stood there, his hands motionless at his sides.
"Justin, I know this looks bad, but--" Parker started, releasing Lance.
"Don't even think about it!" Justin threatened hatefully, stalking forward and grabbing Lance by the arm, ripping him away from Parker and throwing him behind himself, thrusting the shirt he carried into Lance's bare stomach. He grabbed Parker by the shirt, noting the fear in Parker's eyes, and then leaned forward and whispered, "Just how badly have you hurt him, Parker? Has he been jumping and running scared for weeks because of you? Have you done this to him?"
"I don't know what you're--" Parker started weakly.
White hot, blind rage flooded Justin's mind and made his vision black for a moment, in which time his fist came back and flew forward, crashing against Parker's cheekbone. Parker cried out and fell, but Justin simply picked him up again, wanting to make him hurt; wanting to see him bleed. Lance had been hurt... Lance... By this... thing... And now this thing was going to pay. Simple.
Punch after punch, kick after kick, Justin dismantled Parker's body, until he was suddenly thrown off balance by another body hitting his. As he went crashing against the ground, sound returned and his senses all came flooding back all too painfully as the back of his head smacked against the ground, and his world went black.
"Don't try to sit up," a soft voice instructed gently. "You've got a nasty bump on your head."
Justin's eyes flew open in a panic and he stared at Lance. "Lance?" he asked in disbelief, looking around their surroundings. The lights were all out and the only source of light whatsoever was what was streaming in from the moonlight and lights outside his window, but he could still tell that it was his room. "Are you okay? Parker? Is he--"
"Justin," Lance interrupted softly. Justin's eyes sharply caught a hold of the tears in Lance's eyes as Lance looked down. "You can't... I mean... It's not as bad as it looks..."
"What the fuck do you mean, it's not as bad as it looks?" Justin demanded, ignoring the throbbing in his head. "Was he, or was he not about to rape you?"
Lance flinched. "Please don't say it," Lance begged quietly, his eyes downcast in such a way that Justin's heart ached. "You don't understand."
"Understand that forced entry is called rape? I get it, Lance. Do you?" Justin gritted his teeth against the red hot pain behind his eyes as he struggled to sit up. "God damn fucking bastard. I'm going to kill him. He's fucking dead. I don't care if he's in jail or not."
"Justin, don't," Lance ordered, and his head came up as he placed a hand on Justin's chest to push him back down. Their eyes met and Justin felt the fight and resolve leave his body, wanting simply to hold Lance and take away his pain while the police did away with Parker. Lance nervously cleared his thoat and Justin slowly slumped back down, his eyes still trained on Lance's face. Lance looked away, removing his hand as if he'd been burned, and stared at the carpet. "He's not in jail."
"What the fuck do you mean the fucker's not in jail?" Justin shouted, sitting up so quickly his head spun. He ignored the pain, he ignored everything except for Lance and his anger. Lance had about three seconds to explain, and then Justin was going for the gun and some target practice.
"I can't jail him, Justin," Lance whispered softly, cringing away from Justin as if it were Justin who was hurting him. The sight broke Justin's heart. "His dad... He's the owner of Jive. A-and he's..." Lance's voice wavered and he swallowed hard, turning his face away from Justin. "Please, Justin, just... I can't--"
"Lance," Justin begged desperately, picking up Lance's hand off of his lap. Lance jumped so high that he actually jumped off the bed, his eyes wild. Justin felt tears spring to his eyes, and the hand that had taken Lance's now covered his mouth in his horror. He was choking on sobs as he stared at Lance. This disgusting creature had violated Lance... Had turned him into this frightened animal and there was no way to make Lance better... This wasn't some nightmare that he was going to be waking up from. This was real life. Lance was being raped, and the fucker doing it to him wasn't in jail.
"Oh Jesus, don't look at me like that," Lance begged, sounding almost panicked. "Don't... Justin... Not you... Please... Oh god..."
The strong man Justin had always known was crumbling right before his eyes, backing away towards the door in terrified horror, and Justin could only stare at him and try to sort through his spinning thoughts. Why Lance was letting this go on, why Parker wasn't in jail, why Lance was backing away, why Lance was speaking in some strange, chopped up jargon...
"Lance, no!" Justin cried out, jumping out of the bed and darting out of the room after Lance, who was running down the hallway and to the stairs. Lance was ahead of him, though, and Justin's head was throbbing so badly he could hardly see straight. "Lance, stop!" Justin called desperately, trying to keep up and see while his eyesight was blacking out on him. "Lance! Lance, don't go!" Lance, however, wasn't listening, and he was already throwing open the front door as Justin was still making his way down the stairs that he couldn't see. A cold sweat broke out over Justin's body. He couldn't see... His world was black... And Lance was leaving. "Lance!" Justin pleaded, still running down the stairs and holding onto the handrail to guide himself as quickly as he could. "Lance, no!"
Justin shook his head and did the most daring thing he could think of: he threw himself as Lance's back. They collided against the ground, Justin landing on Lance, and Lance cried out in pain and something that sounded like raw terror, and Justin pushed up off of him as quickly as he could, jumping over Lance to the door and bolting it shut with all six locks on the door. When he turned to face Lance, Lance was still on the ground, sitting on it with his legs drawn up to his chest and his face buried in his knees.
Justin felt tears cascading down his cheeks as he slowly knelt down beside Lance, tentatively touching his shoulder. Lance flinched but he didn't lift his head. "Don't look at me," Lance begged softly. "Please, Justin. Please don't look at me. Don't touch me. Just leave me alone."
"No," Justin whispered, wrapping both arm around Lance, who stiffened and then began to struggle. Justin held firmly, fighting Lance back. "Lance, stop it. I'm not going to hurt you!"
"Justin, don't! Let me go! Justin! Please! I'm dirty; you'll get dirty, too! Don't touch me!" Lance gave him one last shove, and in his stunned state, Justin's arms fell limp and Lance scrambled away, climbing a few steps and staring at him through miserable, pained eyes. "Stay away from me," he pleaded. "I just wanted to get you home and make sure you were alright. Please leave me alone."
Justin slowly crawled to the foot of the stairs on his hands and knees, looking up when he reached the bottom step to see Lance looking down at him with tearful, frightened eyes. "Why isn't he in jail?" Justin asked, trying to control his sobs.
Lance's face crumpled and he began to sob hysterically. Justin longed to touch him, longed to wrap his arms around Lance and comfort him, but that would probably only upset Lance further. "P-pictures," Justin managed to understand through Lance's hysterics. "Of him... and me... To the press..." Justin's eyes widened in horror and pain as he realized what Lance was telling him. Parker had pictures of the two of them... Parker and Lance, fucking, and he was threatening to go to the press with them.
"It doesn't matter," Justin exclaimed, begging Lance to understand. He was only vaguely aware of his own tears. His heart felt like it was being ripped out of his body. Lance... Lance was hurting, and he couldn't help. Lance was hurting. Lance. No one hurt Lance. Ever. "Lance, who cares? It's not your fault!"
"It is," Lance sobbed. "I-I led him on! I let him touch me when I knew it wasn't right. This is my fault!"
"No!" Justin whimpered, tears coursing down his cheeks. "No, no, it isn't, Lance! Oh god, no, this isn't your fault! You didn't do anything wrong! You didn't! He's just a sick fuck, Lance. Please, please, Lance, listen to me! This isn't your fault!"
Lance let out a choked sound and buried his face in his hands, sobbing so painfully that Justin's chest ached just from listening to him. Or maybe his chest ached because he himself was crying almost as hard as Lance? He wasn't sure, and he didn't care. He wanted to take away all of Lance's pain--wanted to comfort him somehow, but there was no way. He didn't know how.
"Lance, let me call the police--" Justin begged.
"No!" Lance exclaimed, so vehemently that Justin stopped short and stared at him. Lance's head had snapped up and his green eyes were glaring into Justin's. "I'll deny it. I'll just say that it wasn't rape. And then the entire thing will have been for nothing because the group will be ruined and so will all of our lives."
"It's worth it!" Justin screamed at him. "I will not let him lay another finger on you ever again!"
Lance's strong face crumpled. "Don't, Justin," he begged. "Don't say things you can't back up."
"I'm not going to let him hurt you," Justin objected, looking up at him through his tears. "Not if I can stop it."
"You can't," Lance told him brokenly. "You can't, Justin. And neither can I. Please, please, let me just handle this. I-I'm okay. Really, I am. It sounds much worse than it actually is--"
Justin was up the few stairs separating himself and Lance within seconds, wrapping Lance up in his arms. Lance flinched and pulled away, and Justin let him go, sniffing and looking down at him in pained hurt. "That's not okay, Lance," Justin stated softly, trying to control his tears with heavy breathing and choked words. "I can't even touch you. You are not okay!"
"I don't want you to be dirty, too," Lance whispered softly, his head hung in shame. "Please, Justin. Don't touch me."
"You're not dirty!" Justin howled, hating Parker more than he ever hated anyone in his entire life. He hated Parker not even with thoughts, just blind, raw, animalistic feelings. He wanted to kill Parker, he truly did. He wanted to kill Parker slowly and painfully, torturing him the whole time. "Lance, you're not."
"I am!" Lance insisted, practically begging Justin to agree with him. Slowly his haunted eyes came up and met Justin's, and Justin sucked in a breath. "If you ever cared about me at all," Lance began softly, his voice lower than normal. "You will let me go."
The request, or question, broke Justin's heart. It truly did. Nothing had ever felt more painful than Lance's statement, and Justin reacted the only way he knew how when he was helpless: he cried. He cried, and he sobbed, and he reached out and hugged Lance, ignoring Lance's flinching and squirming. "I love you," he sobbed. "I'm not going to let you go. You're not dirty, Lance, but if you think you are then I'll give you a fucking bath! But I'm not letting you go!"
Lance slumped in his arms, as if the fight had vanished from his body, and there on the stairs, Justin cuddled him as tightly as he could as they both cried.
"Hullo?"
"Justin? You sound like hell."
Justin winced against the harsh outside lights. "JC?" he croaked, then rolled over quickly to see Lance all the way on the other side of the bed, his back to Justin. Still, the sight of him laying there relaxed him, and his heart resumed its normal beating speed.
"Yeah. Listen, there's no practice today. Parker fell down the stairs. He's in terrible shape. Broken nose, black and blue cheek bone and eye, cracked ribs, and bruises every place. Apparently he has a lot of crap on his stairs, 'cause he says he looks like he was in a fight or something. So there's no practice today or tomorrow or the next day, but after that, we're going to meet with him again, even if he's not teaching us."
Justin frowned. Why hadn't Parker called the police on him? It didn't make sense. Justin sat straight up in bed and stared in horror at Lance, realization dawning on him. Yeah, it didn't make sense, unless Lance had done something to convince Parker not to... Oh god... Justin was going to throw up. "Okay. Gotta go. Bye JC." Mechanically he went to hang up the phone.
"Wait!" JC called, and Justin hesitantly brought the phone back to his ear.
"Yeah?"
"Have you seen Lance? I called his house and his answering machine keeps picking up. That's not like him at all."
"He's with me," Justin admitted slowly. "He, ah, locked his keys in his car and we just decided to crash at my place."
JC sounded surprised. "You two didn't kill each other?"
"No," Justin snapped angrily. "We'll see you later. Bye."
"Justin--"
Justin hung up the phone, glaring at it before looking over at Lance. He gasped in surprise when he saw those green eyes looking up at him from where Lance's head rested against the pillow. He worked for words, but none came out until he finally blurted, "Did you do something to keep Parker from turning me in to the cops?"
Lance's eyes slowly lowered, away from Justin's, and the sick feeling in Justin's stomach grew as Lance's eyes slowly came back up, met his fleetingly, and then looked down again, curling up in the covers further. Justin pursed his lips, telling himself repeatedly that he was not going to cry, and then patted the pillow beside his own, one of the two pillow lengths separating him and Lance on the king size bed. "Come lay beside me," Justin requested softly. Lance hesitated, and then slowly he inched over to rest on the pillow beside Justin's body. Justin lowered himself back under the covers, and stared at Lance until Lance slowly raised his eyes and met Justin's.
The world flashed and spun and it was total deja vu all over again. Clips of those eyes staring at him when they were younger and in different hotel rooms all around the world flooded Justin's memories, between each picture in front of his eyes, the current scene of Lance's eyes gazing into his own at that moment. It seemed to last forever and yet it wasn't long enough, and soon Justin's vision cleared and he realized his jaw had fallen slightly.
Memories of gazing into those green eyes while JC slept between them flooded Justin's mind, remembering the feel of Lance's hand on his waist and his hand on Lance's as they attempted to fall asleep and comfort the man inbetween them all at the same time.
"This is familiar," Justin finally whispered, trying to manage a soft smile for Lance.
To Justin's delight, Lance smiled back tenderly and nodded slowly. He blinked and then reopened his eyes, and Justin lost all conscious thought as he surrendered himself to that light green gaze.
"Feel better?"
Lance frowned slightly as he emerged from the bathroom in a large white bath robe that covered him from neck to toe. He'd been in the shower from the moment the water was warm until it had frozen, and yet he still didn't feel clean, no matter how many times he'd washed. And he'd used up practically all of Justin's body soap.
"Didn't think so," Justin sighed, sitting up on the bed and setting his book aside. "I set some clean clothes out for you," he offered, gesturing to the desk chair. "They'll probably be a little big and long, but I can't help that. I tried to find some of your clothes, knowing how mixed up all of our stuff gets, but I didn't find any of yours."
"You threw it at me," Lance murmured off-handedly as he gingerly picked Justin's clothes up off the chair. He couldn't believe that Justin was being so good to him, even after everything they'd been through and how dirty Justin knew he was. His mind still reeled from it.
"What?" Justin asked, sounding surprised.
Lance glanced up at him. "My orange Abercrombie shirt ended up in your bag and you threw it at me as we were on the bus at the end of our tour."
Justin frowned. "I'm sorry."
Lance dropped his eyes to the carpet, shrugging. "Don't be. I wouldn't be." He let out a soft gasp of surprise when he saw two feet step into his view and a presense touch his personal space, and he looked up to see Justin staring down at him.
"I am," Justin stated softly, but firmly. "Lance, you and I have been through a lot together. We were never that close, and after you came out, things just got worse..." he trailed off, looking pained, and dropped his eyes to the carpet guiltily. Lance frowned in confusion and waited, silently wishing that Justin would hurry up and spit it out so Lance could take a step back. Justin was too close. Justin hesitated, and then met Lance's eyes, and Lance actually forgot about wanting to step away when he saw the pain in Justin's eyes. "I know that it's my fault that we've spent the past year arguing like we hate each other," Justin admitted in a rush of air. "It's my fault our friendship took a nose-dive for the worst and went drastically off in the wrong direction. A-and... And maybe someday I'll be able to explain it. Not now, but maybe someday. But Lance..." He hesitated, and then carefully took Lance's hands. Lance stiffened slightly but allowed Justin to hold them, swallowing hard. "It's not going to happen anymore. This fighting shit... It's over. I'm not going to fight with you anymore, under any circumstances. I am going to protect you, and watch over you, and make sure that no one harms you. Consider me your shadow."
Lance smiled weakly at him. "Don't make promises you can't--"
"I can," Justin interrupted softly. "I can and I will, Lance, and I'll prove to you that our relationship for this past year has been the biggest mistake of my life." He pursed his lips, and Lance realized that Justin was trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, Lance. It's insufficient, but it's all I've got. That, and I'm not above begging for forgiveness or throwing myself at your feet."
Lance couldn't help but smile slightly. "That's not necessary," he assured Justin softly. "I don't need a pity party, Justin, I need--"
"A friend," Justin finished. Lance nodded slowly, and Justin smiled tightly and nodded back. "Me too." He swallowed hard, and hesitantly brought his eyes up to fleetingly meet Lance's. "I'm sorry, Lance."
Lance hesitated. "I'm sorry, too," Lance admitted, his voice several octaves lower than normal. Justin's blue eyes lit up, and Lance paused curiously, trying to figure out why that seemed so familiar. He shrugged it off and smiled weakly at Justin, who smiled broadly at him.
When neither one of them looked away, Justin cleared his throat. "You'd better get dressed," Justin suggested, and Lance suddenly remembered that he was in a bath robe and blushed. "I'll be in the living room."
Lance nodded and waited until the door was shut before slowly sinking onto the bed, his thoughts whirling around in his mind. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to trust Justin. Not immediately, anyway. Justin's first rejection of him had hurt him so badly that he had become bitter and jaded for quite some time. They had never been best friends, but they had done a lot together when they were younger and would get left behind by the others. Now Justin wanted to suddenly be Lance's deemed protector? Granted, Justin had always watched out for him, no matter what. But still... Would they be able to even be nice to each other? Lance supposed that they would find out soon enough.
He dressed quickly and tossed the robe into the dirty clothes basket, running his hands through his hair a few times and completely messing it up, then hesitantly walking out to the living room. He could see the back of Justin's head leaning against the couch, and the tv in front of him was on. As Lance silently stepped into the room, however, the tv went on mute and Justin looked back over his shoulder at him.
"You okay?" Justin asked, studying him. Lance frowned slightly and nodded, slowly crossing to the other side of the couch and sitting down on the seat cushion beside Justin, but being sure to keep one between them for distance's sake. Justin was still studying him worriedly, but Lance simply gazed at the tv and willed Justin to believe him.
"Hungry?" Justin asked. "There's plenty of--"
"No," Lance admonshed immediately, the thought of food entering his stomach already making it start to turn. He embarassedly met Justin's eyes. "I-I haven't been keeping it down very well."
"I'm going to hug you now," Justin told him seriously, and Lance did a double take of surprise. "Don't hit me." Lance's heart pounded as Justin slowly slid to his side, closing the distance Lance had left until their sides touched. Justin slipped an arm around his shoulders, and one across his stomach. Lance stiffened only slightly, still nervously glancing at Justin, who was gazing so tenderly into his eyes that Lance paused and just studied them, allowing Justin to pull him into his arms. He leaned against Justin's chest and closed his eyes, the arms around him not quite as harsh as they could have been. It was actually sort of nice. Part of him panicked at Justin becoming contaminated, tainted goods like himself, but Justin didn't seem ready to let him go.
"I won't do it again, Lance," Justin whispered. Lance studied Justin's closed eyes and saw tears hanging on the lashes. "I-I..." he swallowed hard. "I made a really, really big mistake. I thought I was... I thought I was protecting both of us. But I never should have treated you the way I have been. I never should have acted the way that I did."
Lance looked at him, his thoughts spinning around in his mind. He had no idea what Justin was talking about, but he did know one thing: he wasn't uncomfortable.
Justin gazed at the back of Lance's head as they lay in bed. There was no smile on his lips, but inside, he felt better than he'd felt in a long time. Lance had allowed Justin to touch him all day, and towards the end, before they'd gone to bed, he stopped jumping. He stiffened slightly, but that was only to be expected and Justin had to repeat again and again to himself that it wasn't anything personal that Lance was flinching away from him. Lance had been hurt by Parker.
Justin was calmly plotting his death.
At any other point in time, that could have been considered a joke, but Justin was very, very serious. Someone had hurt Lance, and someone was going to pay. It was as simple as that. Justin didn't care how Lance wanted to justify Parker's actions, or what Parker would do if Lance ever told. If Parker was dead, Parker couldn't do anything. Justin figured the direct approach would work just fine: he'd walk in, pull a gun out, and shoot Parker straight in between his eyes, because when Justin looked into Lance's eyes he saw pain. Justin wanted Parker's eyes to be ruined forever.
Without warning, Lance turned over, setting his face on the same pillow Justin was using. His eyes were open, and while Justin was surprised to see Lance awake, Lance didn't look at all surprised to see Justin with his eyes open. Lance's eyes searched Justin's, and Justin waited calmly for Lance to finish his inspection. Their faces were only about five inches away, but it felt like forever when all Justin wanted to do was to hold Lance and protect him forever. He repressed the shiver he felt go through his bones at the thought. That was precisely why Justin had ended their friendship, and not one day back into it and he was already having the same thoughts. But really, if he was truly honest with himself, had they ever gone away? Of course not. That was why his heart had hurt for the past year.
Lance's green eyes were glowing in the darkness, as they always did, and Justin lost himself in them, allowing his mind to wander to places he had long forgotten... Places he didn't want to dredge up but that wanted to face him. And he was helpless to stop them. Memories of Lance's smiling face as he tried to reassure Justin that they would have fun even if they did get left behind. He and Lance had never gotten the chance to be especially close, but Justin was sure that if they had, their lives would have been a lot different. Especially since when they got as close as they had, Justin had been almost unable to keep his hands to himself. Hence the reason their friendship had turned to hate.
Justin had fallen for him.
~~~~End Part Five~~~~