Disclaimer: Again, not mine. Don't know. Didn't happen.
Author's note: I'm sorry.
"Let me help you--"
"Don't touch me."
Justin's body shook with silent, tearless sobs as he watched Lance rise slowly and painfully out of the car. He stood beside the door, helpless. Lance had not spoken to him until that very moment, let alone look at him. And it was his fault. He had raped Lance, and now Lance didn't trust him. He didn't blame Lance. If he were Lance, he wouldn't trust him either. Lance had counted on Justin to take care of him... And not only had Justin failed, but he had done the ultimate wrong to Lance.
"Lance, I'm sor--" Justin tried desperately.
"Don't talk to me," Lance ordered, his tone the same blank, cool one as before. Justin winced as if he'd been hit. Lance's words burned like red hot coals into Justin's soul. He opened the door and stepped back, allowing Lance to enter first, and then watched as Lance took a step up the stairs and gasped in pain, clutching the handrail to support himself.
"Lance!" Justin exclaimed, horrified. He slammed the door shut and wrapped his arm around Lance, trying to help his best friend while his eyes filled with tears.
"Don't fucking touch me!" Lance shouted, giving Justin a strong shove. Justin slammed back against the wall, staring at Lance, who still refused to look at him. Slowly Justin slid down the wall, his tears so painful that his chest squeezed and he couldn't breathe. He made no sound, however, as he watched Lance stagger painfully up the stairs. A few minutes later, he heard the pipes being turned on, and the shower going.
Somehow, Justin made it to the front door again, and after locking every lock on it--he'd had four more installed just the other day, for a total of ten locks--he made his way up the stairs to his bedroom.
He changed quickly into his pj's, then curled up into bed, as far onto his side as he could get. The bed felt empty and cold without Lance's presense in it, causing Justin to suddenly realize just how used to Lance he had gotten. Life without Lance wasn't life. It was auto-pilot.
The shower ran for a good hour before Lance finally appeared in the bedroom, already covered in a long sleeved shirt and pants. Justin watched him as he entered the room, grabbed a sweatshirt, and then turned to go.
"Lance, don't!" Justin begged quickly, sitting up so fast his vision blacked. Lance jumped and dropped the sweatshirt in his surprise, his eyes wide as he stared at Justin. "Please," Justin whispered, tears flooding his eyes. "I'm sorry. Don't leave me here alone. I know I hurt you, Lance. I know that you can't even look at me right now, and I don't blame you. I hurt you, and that's unforgivable. But don't leave me here alone. Please, don't go."
Lance swallowed hard, staring at the mattress. Then, slowly, in the light spilling into the darkened room from the hallway, Justin watched Lance's eyes raise and hesitantly meet his. "That's why you think I'm upset?" he asked softly. "You think I'm angry at you because you think you raped me?"
Justin's shoulders slumped with his shaking shoulders. "I know you can't look at me," he sobbed. "I wouldn't be able to look into my rapist's eyes, either. I didn't want to rape you, Lance. I never want to hurt you."
"Oh fuck," Lance whispered. Justin looked up slowly in confusion and surprise, only to see Lance's eyes closed. Tears slipped past them anyway, sliding down his cheeks. After a moment, Lance's eyes opened, and stared into Justin's. "Justin, you didn't rape me. For rape it's got to be unwanted. It..." Lance swallowed hard. "It wasn't unwanted." He dropped his eyes. "I can't look at you because I'm fucking ashamed. You had to sit there helpless while Parker raped me. I've never been more embarassed or mortified in my entire life. But Justin, I'm not angry at you."
Justin's mind reeled from overload. If he wasn't wrong, Lance had just said that he wanted Justin to... Sleep with him. That meant that Lance liked Justin. And Lance wasn't angry at him. Lance... Lance wasn't angry at him. And... Who cared about anything else?! Lance wasn't angry at him!
Lance turned away. "I'm gonna go sleep in the other room," he stated softly. "I'll see you tomorrow morning." He started out the door.
Justin blanked. Lance was leaving?! Where the hell was he going?! The only thing he could think of was stopping Lance. If Lance wasn't angry at him, then he had to get Lance. He was out of the bed within seconds, catching Lance around the waist and grabbing him tightly.
Lance let out a soft whimper of pain, stiffening, but Justin held tight. "Don't," Lance begged. "Please, Justin. I'm not clean. I'm--"
"Beautiful," Justin whispered, feeling how hot his breath was against Lance's ear. Lance froze. "Tell me," Justin began softly. "That I didn't rape you."
Lance's voice sounded choked. "You didn't rape me."
There. He'd said it again. It wasn't rape because it wasn't unwanted. He hadn't raped Lance. It had been fucking, under animalistic circumstances at best, but it wasn't rape. He let out a soft sigh of relief. "Come to bed with me," he instructed gently, whispering in Lance's ear. "Come to bed with me. Sleep in my arms for the rest of our lives. Never leave my side again. Be mine as much as I am yours."
"Justin, don't say things out of guilt--" Lance protested, swallowing as Justin lowered his mouth to Lance's neck.
"You know I'm not," Justin objected softly, hugging Lance tightly back against him. Lance liked him. Lance said so. Lance wouldn't lie. Justin hadn't hurt Lance. He was going to take care of him, and love him, and show him that it didn't always have to be brutal and painful. He was going to make Lance's mind explode and forget all the bad things that had ever happened to him. Not tonight. Definitely not tonight. But someday. Right now, he was just going to claim Lance. He was going to tell Lance exactly where Lance belonged, and to who Lance belonged.
"Justin, I can't--" Lance tried again, but by that time, his words were feebled gasps as Justin sucked at his neck.
"You don't have to," Justin whispered, meeting Lance's eyes. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do, Lance." He smiled slightly. "Unless you don't want to fall asleep in my arms, and then you're just s.o.l."
Lance's serious face broke out into a smile, and just the sight of it made Justin's heart sing and his entire demeanor light up. "You mean it?" Lance asked quietly, his eyes searching Justin's.
"I mean it," Justin whispered back. He knew that they had a lot of things to talk about, but that could all wait for the morning. "We're going to have a long talk tomorrow morning about everything," Justin told him softly. "But tonight, suffice it to say that you and I," he joined their hands together and leaned his forehead against Lance's. "Are officially never going to be apart ever again."
Lance woke up slowly the next morning, sore and tired and cold. He shivered and opened his eyes, looking at Justin's white bedsheets. Wait... Bedsheets? Where was Justin?
Lance bolted straight up, looking around the room wildly. Justin wasn't there. Where was he? Had he decided he didn't want Lance? Was he too disgusted by Lance's presense to stay there? Lance's chest squeezed the very breath out of his lungs as he panicked, clenching the sheets between his fingers. His entire body was sore and screaming protests, but he needed to see Justin. What if Justin had left? What if Justin never wanted to see him again? Parker was right, Parker was right, no one would ever want him. He wasn't worth anything more than a fuck. He was useless. Utterly useless. No one wanted him. He was alone. All alone.
"Hey!" a soft voice greeted brightly. Lance's eyes snapped to the door to see Justin standing there, holding a cup of coffee. "You're awake! I was just going to come lay beside you!" Justin frowned at his face, and then set the steaming mug down onto the table and sank down beside Lance on the bed. "What's wrong?"
"I-I thought that you had left--" Lance started, his words sounding desperate and choked.
"Oh no," Justin warned, leaning back a few inches. "I've waited since I was 14 for you. I'm not blowing my chances while I've got 'em."
Lance swallowed doggedly. "Justin, we gotta talk..."
"I know," Justin assured him gently. "We're going to talk. I promise. We'll talk for as long as you want about anything you want. We have the rest of our lives to talk. Right now, however..." Justin leaned forward and wrapped Lance up tightly in his embrace. "I want to look at you and hold you and make you forget that the outside world exists."
"But we've got work--" Lance protested weakly, falling back into Justin's arms anyway.
"Ha!" Justin snorted derisively. "Like you honestly believe I'm going to let you go to work today after you were hurt so badly last night, not just by that bastard but by me as well? Hardly, Lance." He softly kissed Lance's cheek. "I'm going to spend all day in bed with you making up for it."
Oh, that did sound nice. With a soft sigh, Lance leaned the back of his head on Justin's shoulder, allowing Justin to guide him into a reclining position on the bed. Lance gazed into Justin's eyes and smiled at him gently. "You don't have to make up for anything, Justin," he told him softly. "I told you before, you didn't--"
"I'm making up for it being so bad our first time," Justin interrupted smoothly. "Next time it will be better. A long, long time from now, when you're feeling better. But it won't be anything like that, Lance. I promise."
Lance smiled weakly. "I know," he whispered. "I know, Justin." He closed his eyes. "But it wasn't so bad. Really it wasn't."
"Yes, it was," Justin whispered hoarsely. Something in his tone made Lance turn over and look at him closely. Justin's blue eyes were filled with tears. "I tried to be careful, and I tried to be gentle--"
"Justin. You didn't hurt me," Lance assured him, realizing for the first time just how much agony Justin was in over what he had been forced to do. "If anything, you were raped." Justin's eyes betrayed confusion, so Lance explained. "You didn't want to do it. Parker forced you. Even if you weren't the one... receiving, doesn't mean that you were any less raped than I was." He sighed softly. "You didn't rape me, Justin. I really don't know how to explain it. I wish it hadn't of happened under those circumstances, but it was not rape in you raping me. It was Parker raping both of us."
Justin's eyes closed as tears slipped down his cheeks. When he opened them again, Lance stared into those deep blue oceans, leaned forward, and lightly kissed the tear trails. He felt Justin shiver and try to hold him without hurting him. They had taped up his back last night, and while he was sore and it ached, he was better than he'd been while they were taping. Actually, while Justin was taping. He had just laid there. Though Justin had kissed his wounds, which was really sweet.
When the tears were gone, Lance moved his mouth to Justin's. Justin let out a soft sigh and opened his mouth, gently pushing at Lance's lips with his tongue. Lance allowed him immediate access, using his tongue to massage Justin's, and then explore the rest of Justin's mouth. The warm haze surrounding them made Lance realize why there was such a difference in being with Justin and being with other people. Lance was never afraid in Justin's arms. He supposed that he was dependent on Justin, but if this was what being dependent on someone felt like, then he didn't mind. He wanted every piece of Justin, and while occasionally parts of his stomach turned at the thought of any sort of intimate contact, thinking of Justin just made it all better.
Lightly Lance trailed his tongue down Justin's throat, placing gentle, tender kisses in the hollow of it. Suddenly he was desperate to taste Justin; to feel every part of him, and without a second thought, began tugging Justin's shirt off. Justin seemed much more reluctant and hesitant about it than Lance did, and as soon as the shirt was off, Lance pressed his mouth against Justin's urgently. Justin broke away, panting, but Lance was far from done. He kissed his way down the center of Justin's body, pausing only when he reached his waist band. Then he trailed his way back up, occasionally pressing his tongue against Justin's flesh with the kisses.
Their mouths touched again, and after several more breathtaking minutes, they both pulled back, gasping, and stared at each other. Justin smiled and reached out for him while Lance collappsed into his arms, pillowing his head on Justin's shoulder.
"Are you okay?" Justin asked softly, holding him tightly.
"Yeah," Lance breathed. "Are you?"
Justin nodded immediately, then hugged him. "God I've wanted to call you mine for so long. I can't believe I finally can."
Lance frowned slightly. "I thought that you stopped being friends with me because I admitted to being bi," he said softly.
Justin froze, took a deep breath, and let it slowly out. "I did," he told him hoarsely. Lance froze and pulled away, looking into Justin's eyes with confusion and horror. "I-I mean, that was part of it..." He sighed and leaned his head back against the pillow. "I've always wanted you Lance, from the very beginning. That was why I was never very nice to you. I knew that if we became friends, any closer than we were, then I would just lose control completely. I was 14 years old and in love with another guy. There were a lot of things I was too scared to accept back then, and by the time I was willing to come to terms with it, you and JC were already best friends. And then when you admitted to being bi, I thought I might stand a chance and then I knew I was in trouble, because if the media found out or something happened with us and then we broke up, the group would be destroyed. There was just so much to risk and every day, looking at you... The temptation drove me insane. There were times I'd scream at you just to hear your voice or to cover up for the fact that I wanted you. I couldn't let anyone know, so I disguised it the only way I could." Justin hesitated, then went on. "I do love you," he confessed softly. "I have always loved you. Since I was 14 I loved you."
Lance gazed at him, troubled by Justin's words. "I never knew," he murmured softly. "I just figured you thought I was too geeky for you. And then after I came out, you actually seemed to hate me."
"I hated that I couldn't have you," Justin clarified quietly, his eyes sad. "I hated that the one thing in my life I wanted more than anything was forbidden."
"Not completely forbidden," Lance corrected gently. Justin smiled weakly at him.
"I was constantly terrified that you would figure it out," he continued softly. "Because one minute I would be screaming at you, but the second anyone tried to hurt you or talk to you or look at you wrong, I'd be down their throats. I figured I was just obvious."
"Not so obvious," Lance assured him dryly, unable to believe exactly what Justin was saying. He believed Justin, of course, but it was just... Astonishing. Justin had spent five years hating him because he loved him? Lance had known all along that he liked Justin, even when he hated Justin, he still had the underlying like of him. Was it too good to be true that they were together?
Justin sighed quietly, placing a light kiss on Lance's lips and then settling back against the pillows again. "I'm done running," he promised, his eyes meeting Lance's seriously. "I'm done being scared, and I'm done being afraid. And I will do everything I can to prove it to you, as well."
Lance rested his chin on his hands on Justin's chest. "You don't have to prove anything to me," he assured Justin calmly. "I believe you." And he did, too, because he didn't think Justin would be able to lie to him like this. He felt too much in Justin's embrace for it to be all a lie.
Justin smiled slightly. "I'm going to show you because I want to," he told Lance softly. "I want to make you smile and laugh and take care of you."
Lance couldn't resist smiling back. "Well, if you insist," he teased, leaning forward. Justin reached up to meet him, and after only a few seconds, the phone rang and Justin groaned loudly.
"Damn it," he muttered, causing Lance to laugh as he watched him slap a hand to his eyes. Justin lifted his hand away and looked up at Lance. "Oh, I'm glad you think this is funny. I'm going to rip the cord out of the wall."
Lance smiled shyly, again resting his chin and hands on Justin's chest. Justin gazed at him with the strangest look in that Lance had ever seen before in his entire life. It was like the looks those girls gave them at meet and greets. Almost... Adoring. Astonished. But that wasn't right, was it? What would Justin have to adore in Lance?
The phone rang several more times, and with an exasperated growl Justin looked away from Lance, reaching out and picking up the telephone. He wrapped one arm lightly around Lance, hissing, "What?" into the telephone. Lance smiled playfully up at him, liking the idea that Justin hated them being interrupted. His smile died, however, when Justin's scowl hardened and he began clenching his jaw. "I told you," he stated simply, his voice an angry growl. "We're not coming today. Deal with it."
Lance couldn't help but shake slightly at the idea of going back. He purposefully avoided Justin's piercing gaze, leaning his head to Justin's chest and resting his cheek over Justin's heart, closing his eyes and willing the memories that were trying to flood his mind away. He didn't want to remember how painfully Parker slammed into him, or how badly it hurt and ached. He didn't want to think about how sore his body was, or how the wounds on his back throbbed when touched too harshly. He couldn't even look at his arm, anymore. Justin dutifully bandaged it every night, along with the rest of Lance's body. Lance couldn't look at any part of himself.
"Fuck you, Chris," Justin spat. Lance cringed and actually slid backwards from Justin, not wanting to hear that loud, harsh voice. Justin's arm on him tightened as he tried to hold him in place, but that only applied pressure to Lance's back. Lance cried out in pain and pushed and squirmed away, to the other side of the bed, where he lay panting with his eyes clenched shut tight, trying to will the throbbing in his back away. He vaguely heard Justin saying goodbye quickly, and then felt the bed shift as Justin crawled to his side, but didn't touch him.
"I'm sorry," Justin whispered, his breath running through Lance's hair and giving him goose bumps. "Lance?"
Lance turned his head to face Justin, taking in Justin's worried, sad eyes, leaned forward, and lightly kissed him before resettling back with his hands at his sides, still not moving. "It just hurts," he explained softly. "It's not your fault."
Justin's eyes were filling with tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his body mirroring Lance's. "I wish that I could stop all of this."
Lance closed his eyes as a particularly painful throb shook through out his back, and then reopened them to find Justin's cheeks damp. He wanted to take away all that pain. He wanted to reassure Justin that everything would be alright, but he didn't know how, because he didn't know that everything would be alright. So he tried the best he could.
"You can't cry," Lance told him lightly, a bit shakily. "Our first day together and you want to spend it crying? That doesn't sound like a lot of fun to me, and knowing that this is all about me, you should be trying to make me happy."
Lance's efforts were rewarded with a smile from Justin. "It is all about you," he agreed softly, leaning forward and pressing his lips lightly against Lance's cheek before settling back, gazing at him. "How do you want to be made happy?"
"I wanna watch a movie," Lance proclaimed, already feeling the pain in his back starting to subside. "A comedy."
Justin paused as he concentrated. "I've got Clue," he offered.
Lance's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?" he asked, startled. "You hated that movie. Everytime I make you guys watch it you always complain."
Justin smiled weakly. "It was your favorite movie. I learned all the lines."
Lance took a moment to process what he had just heard. Justin really had cared about him for quite some time. Amazing.
Justin laughed at the look on Lance's face. "So how about it?" he asked playfully. "I can offer you a good movie, popcorn, Cokes, and a lap to sit on."
Lance blushed and grinned. "Sounds good," he agreed shyly.
Justin's fingers lightly brushed over his back, looking between it and Lance's eyes. "It still hurt?"
It did, a little, but it was fading away quickly. "No," Lance told him. "I'm fine."
Justin lightly kissed his forehead. "Yes, you are." He pushed up off the bed, then the phone rang again and he crashed back down onto it, burying his face in the pillow. "Can't I just let it ring?" he moaned.
"No."
Justin peeked at him past the pillow. "You're kind of a pushy boyfriend, aren't you?"
Lance blushed. "You haven't seen anything, yet."
Justin flashed a grin, gave another quick kiss to Lance's cheek, and then rolled over and snatched up the telephone. "Justin's." Lance smiled at him, watching as Justin sat up and leaned against the headboard, drawing his knees up and gazing at the wall across from the bed. "Hey," Justin greeted, his voice sounding cool. Lance frowned, trying to place who Justin used that tone with. "I'm busy," Justin stated calmly, avoiding Lance's eyes.
Lance settled back. He was talking to Britney. Lance knew it. He didn't know why Justin was bothering to hide it, until it finally struck him that Justin was now dating both Britney and Lance. Lance frowned slightly, resting further into the pillow. Well that wasn't going to work out at all. Justin couldn't have both of them. Though, Lance mulled, Parker had both Lance and Ace. He didn't see why Justin couldn't have a guy and a girl.
Speaking of, when the hell had Justin become gay?
Justin's tone became harsh and clipped. "I said I'm busy," he reminded. Lance flinched at his tone, picturing Parker using it on him. The idea made him nausious, and he slid off of the bed to go into the kitchen. He didn't want to listen to Justin talk to Britney, and Justin mentioned popcorn. He liked popcorn.
He wasn't quite sure where Justin kept the popcorn popper, but Lance knew that he had one because Joey had gotten it for him for Christmas last year. Something about Joey and Chris tired of not having any popcorn in the house when they came over to watch movies. Honestly, Lance never really paid that much attention to anything concerning Justin in previous years. Well, he had, but he had tried not to.
The popcorn popper was, coincidentally enough, in the cabinet where it belonged. Lance gave a little stunned scoff of surprise, then pulled it out and set it up, searching for the oil. He was pouring that in when Justin came into the kitchen, almost hesitantly. Without looking over his shoulder, Lance ordered, "Make yourself useful and get the popcorn."
"You mean I'm not just here to be eye-candy?" Justin asked. Lance couldn't help but smile as he turned around, recapping the bottle of oil and watching Justin go into the pantry, emerging a second later with a rather large bag of kernels.
"Not quite," Lance admonished softly, smiling at him. Justin grinned at him, and slowly stepped across the kitchen until he was in front of Lance, then reached around him and set the bag onto the countertop. Justin settled back in front of him, and they stared at each other. Lance couldn't believe how fast his heart was pounding, but it was actually painful. He was sure he was going to go into cardiac arrest because his heart was going so quickly.
"You mean I actually have to work with you?" Justin pouted, his body only inches from Lance's. His blue eyes were glinting mischeviously, which only made Lance's heart speed up some more.
"Not everything is free," Lance explained quietly, looking up at Justin through his lashes.
"Not the good things," Justin agreed, then slowly lowered his mouth to Lance's with a smile.
It was a sweet, gentle kiss, one speaking of playfulness and joy, just at being together. Behind him, Justin's hands gripped the countertop, probably to keep himself from touching Lance and possibly hurting him. Lance reached back and covered Justin's hands with his own, and not a second later their fingers were intertwined. Justin slowly broke away from Lance's mouth, kissing all the way down his throat in one of the softest, most precious feelings that Lance had ever known. He dropped his head to Justin's shoulder, lacking the strength to keep it up anymore, but turned his face to capture Justin's lips in his once more.
"That sound is driving me nuts!" Justin exclaimed suddenly, breaking his hold on one of Lance's hands and ripping the cord to the popcorn popper out of the wall. Lance turned and watched as the rod along the bottom stopped spinning and grating across it. Then he smiled up at Justin, who was looking sheepish. "Sorry."
Lance flashed a grin. "It's okay. But now that you mention it..." He stepped away, plugged the popper back into the wall, and then patted the bag of kernels and looked up at Justin. "How much?"
Justin sighed. "Figures. Not only do I get droven insane by an annoying grating sound, but I lose my kiss, too."
Lance smiled and gave him a quick kiss, pulling away before it could get any deeper. "You do this," he instructed Justin, gesturing to the popcorn. "And I'll get Cokes and the movie." Honestly, he didn't think he'd be able to pour the popcorn. He didn't have the strength.
Justin gave an exaggerated sigh. "Fine," he agreed, then flashed a devilish grin. "But only if I get another kiss."
Lance blushed. He had never been like this with anyone he'd ever been out with before, and briefly he wondered how many of Justin's ex-girlfriends got this treatment as well. Deciding not to think about it, he gave Justin one more quick kiss, and then went to the refridgerator and pulled out two Cokes. He shot a glance over his shoulder as he stepped out of the kitchen to go to the living room, smiling as he saw Justin dutifully pouring in the popcorn, a silly smile on his lips.
Lance set the Cokes on the coffee table in front of the couch, and then went to the rows of tapes that Justin kept. He didn't remember ever seeing Clue there before, in the few times that they had actually agreed to meet at Justin's house. Hell, Justin's nearest neighbor was a mile or so away. He was way out in the country, and while at one point in time that bugged Lance, he now liked the idea. He didn't have to worry about anyone else invading their little world. It was nice.
After ten minutes of searching, scanning, and pulling out tapes to see if it was somehow stuck behind some, Lance gave up and went searching for Justin. He hesitated before stepping into the kitchen, frowning as he saw Justin sitting at the table with his head in his hands. The popcorn sat in the bowl, already done, which meant that Justin was just sitting there for a reason. He was thinking something over carefully, and whatever it was was stressing him out.
Doubt and panic immediately flooded Lance's mind. What if Justin was just pretending to care about him? What if Justin was only acting this way because he wanted to comfort Lance? What if Justin really didn't love him? What if Justin didn't want him? What if this was all just a facade to make Lance feel better? Oh Jesus, that was probably it. Justin probably didn't really like him at all! Justin probably just felt guilty and wanted to make it better so he was pretending to care... But he really didn't!
Lance's stomach began churning, and silently he backed away, turning and running to the bathroom as quickly and silently as he could. He locked the door, got onto his knees in front of the toilet, and heaved.
He had been wrong. The whole morning was nothing more than a sham. Guilt overtook Justin, and he had lied to try and make things better. Justin didn't want him. No one would ever want him! That was what Parker had said. Parker said that the only way someone would want him was for a fuck toy, and that's exactly what he was. He was worthless, and no good, and no one would want him for anything except a lay. But Justin... Justin had lied and hurt him, and really, should he be that surprised? Justin had always hated him. Always. God. Justin probably thought this was some sick, funny game. "Screw with Lance's mind." The prize was probably the smug satisfaction that Justin would feel when Lance started crying. But Lance wouldn't cry. Lance wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Lance would break it off first. Right now. Before it even got started. And then Lance would be the one with the last laugh.
Lance brushed his teeth, washed his face, and was fixing his hair when there was a knock on the bathroom door.
"Lance?" came Justin's worried voice. "Are you alright?"
Lance sneered at the mirror. Justin sure was good. He almost had Lance convinced that he was really worried. "Fine," Lance sang back. "Just fixing my hair."
There was a pause, and then a confused, "Why?"
"I just felt like it," Lance snapped sharply. "Do you have a problem with that?"
There was silence. "N-no," Justin replied warily. "Are you sure you're okay?"
His hair was spiked the way that he liked it, so Lance opened the door and faced off against Justin, who truly did look worried. Lance had to conceede that Justin really was a great actor. He wondered if Justin could see his anger through his eyes. "Fine," he stated simply. "Ready?"
Justin's hand came up and touched his cheek, and it took every urge in Lance's body not to smack it away. A second later, however, it fell back to Justin's side, and Justin nodded, his eyes looking hurt. "Yeah. Did you manage to find the video?"
"No," Lance said cooly as he breezed past Justin. He had to at least wait until tomorrow before he could go to his own home, but then he was never going to stay with Justin again. Oh, Justin's tricks had been good, skillful, even, especially with the way he was pretending to be hurt right now, but Lance had caught onto his sleezy games. Betrayal brought tears to his eyes, but anger pushed them away. He would not be fooled again. Justin wasn't as masterful as he thought.
"Yeah. I forgot to tell you. It's behind the tv."
Lance dropped uncerimoniously onto the couch, giving a soft hiss of pain as his back roughly touched the cushions, and ignored Justin, who immediately turned around to look at him in worry. Justin looked ready to say something, but Lance gave him a level gaze, and Justin turned back to the tv, his expression hurt and confused as he popped in the tape and hit play, joining Lance at the couch. They sat side by side, a few inches between them, with only Justin's knee touching Lance's leg.
Professor Plum was hitting on Mrs. Peacock when Justin finally blurted out, "Are you mad at me?"
Lance stiffened and looked over at him. "No," he answered, his tone clipped. "Why?"
"Because you're acting mad at me," Justin explained, looking bewildered. "If I did something, you'd tell me, right?"
"Right."
Justin reached out and took Lance's hands inbetween his. "Lance," he started, his tone sounding almost pleading. "I have waited a really, really long time for this. If I do something to upset you, you have to tell me. I want to make this work."
Justin should definitely consider an acting career. The boy was astounding. If Lance hadn't walked into that little scene in the kitchen, he'd probably still believe him. God. He'd been so sappy that morning. But Justin wasn't going to get him to do it again. He ignored the pangs in his heart and shrugged. "Nothing's wrong," he assured Justin easily. "I'm just tired."
Justin's eyes searched his, and for a moment, Lance felt his resolve slipping away. Maybe Justin wasn't just playing with him? But then Justin suddenly released Lance's hands and slumped back against the couch, not saying a word. Lance clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to the tv.
They didn't speak again for the remainder of the movie.
Justin lay awake in bed that night, staring at the black ceiling. Lance was resting in his arms, but even together, he had never felt that Lance was farther than he was right now. The thought brought tears to his eyes, and he covered them with his arm, taking care not to disturb Lance. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong, but Lance was treating him like a stranger. When Justin had tried to kiss him after the movie, Lance had responded, but it had been... dead. Almost as if he weren't even there. It reminded Justin of when Lance was with Parker, and he had haistly broken the kiss and looked away, not wanting Lance to see the tears in his eyes. He had not tried to kiss Lance for the rest of the day.
He wanted to protect Lance, and keep him from any sort of harm. He wanted to curl up in bed with him and hold him and treasure him for the rest of his life. That morning, it was a dream Justin thought could be achieved. In the span of ten minutes, however, the entire idea seemed to be shot down the drain. Silently he went over what had happened between the time Lance left the kitchen and the time Justin found him in the bathroom. He'd made the popcorn, caught sight of one of the towels that he'd used when Lance's wrist wound had reopened and he had to clean it up, gotten sick to his stomach, and sat down at the table. Then he'd gone out to the living room, found the tv off and Lance not there, got worried, and went looking for him in the bedroom. He wasn't there, but he heard the water in the bathroom going, so he went there and found Lance inside, and when he opened the door, Lance was fixing his hair, something he hadn't done in weeks. It didn't make any sense. And since then, Lance had hardly spoken to him.
Tears were slipping past his eyes more rapidly now, and his shirt was starting to get soaked. His chest felt tight and ached as he tried to breathe, a luxury that he wasn't being granted at the moment. Perhaps it had been better when Lance didn't know how he felt. Perhaps they were better off yelling and "hating" each other. At least then Justin could still love him, and not know the pangs of having him and then losing him. Because in the span of ten minutes, Justin had lost the love of his life. Nothing had ever hurt more than that.
Not even when he thought of Parker hurting Lance.
"Mmmph..." came a soft moan, almost of pain. Justin quickly removed his arm and looked to where Lance was shifting in his arms, a pained look on his face.
"Lance? It's okay, sweetie," Justin soothed softly, a large lump in his throat.
Lance twisted a few more times, and then slowly opened his eyes. They were unfocused, still in his dream world, but he smiled at the sight of Justin. "Love you," he breathed, reaching up and kissing Justin firmly. Justin couldn't help the tears that slid down his cheeks. Lance pulled away after a few minutes and fell promptly back into slumberland. Justin stared at him for a few seconds, then slipped out of the bed, taking special care to avoid jarring Lance. He shut the bedroom door and then leaned against the wall beside it in the hallway. Slowly he slid down it, his knees pulling to his chest before he broke down and sobbed.
Justin was a mess inside. Lance had been avoiding him all morning, and when they got to work, he went straight for JC's arms. It made no sense. Lance was supposed to be his boyfriend, and yet he was sitting in JC's arms, in JC's embrace, in JC's fucking lap. He was more outgoing than he'd been since Parker started fucking raping him. His hair was done, he was actually dressed like he cared about what he was wearing, and he was moving from flirting with JC to actually flirting with Parker. The only one that Lance wasn't speaking to was Justin. Justin had tried to talk to him, on several occasions, but Lance just brushed him aside. Justin was confused, hurt, and ready to go insane. Lance's behavior was completely illogical, and eventually Justin gave up and slumped onto the couch beside Chris, resting his head on Chris' shoulder as he watched Lance clowning around on JC's back.
"What happened to him?" Chris asked, nodding at Lance.
Justin shook his head. "I don't know."
Chris paused thoughtfully. "Don't you think it's a little odd," he hedged. "That Lance is perfectly happy and fine when you two aren't speaking, but when you guys got buddy-buddy he totally shut down and wouldn't let anyone look at or touch him except you?"
Justin pulled away so quickly he saw black. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he hissed furiously, ready to rip Chris' throat out. He knew vaguely that JC and Lance had stopped playing, and that all eyes in the studio were on him, but he was too angry to pay them any heed. How dare Chris even imply that Justin was hurting Lance? Especially since the thought had crossed Justin's own mind. Maybe Justin was the one hurting Lance, keeping him down. Maybe Lance was fine. Maybe Lance liked Parker, but Justin had convinced him that it was wrong. Maybe this was all Justin's fault.
Joey actually put an arm between Chris and Justin. "Back off, man," he told Justin quietly. "We've all been wondering the same thing."
"I don't believe this," Justin shouted, jumping to his feet and whirling on them. "I don't fucking believe this. I can't believe that you guys would dare think..." he trailed off in disgust, his rage so great that he actually had tears in his eyes. "Fine. You know what? Think whatever the fuck you want." He whirled on his heel and stormed out of the studio as quickly as he could. As soon as the doors were closed, he started to run off, until he heard shouting in the studio, and then he hesitated, listening.
"What the fuck did you guys say to him?" Lance screamed. Justin's eyes widened in surprise, and he paused, listening closer.
"Just that it seemed odd that when you two were all close, you were miserable, but that now you're back to not talking to him, you're fine," Chris defended. "Jesus Christ, Lance, we're just worried about you! You've been acting miserable for weeks!"
"This is fucking bullshit!" Lance shouted, so loudly that the doors actually shook. Justin took a reflexive step back in surprise, glancing up at the body guard, who had done the same, his eyes wide as well. The body guard met Justin's eyes, and then he frowned in confusion. "You guys better pray to god that he's not crying, because if he is, I am going to kill you both!"
"Lance--" JC started.
"Get your fuckin' hands off me!" Lance screamed. There was a thudding sound, loud footprints, and Justin stepped backwards as the door was flung open to reveal Lance with wide, worried, angry eyes. The short glimpse Justin got of the inside showed JC on the ground, staring in horror at the doorway and Lance's back. The door fell shut with a loud thud, and Lance stiffened, closing his eyes. He slowly reopened them and looked up at Justin. And then, wordlessly, he fell into Justin's arms.
"What's going on, Lance?"
Lance looked up as JC approached him. Lance was sitting on the couch, trying to avoid Parker, who he'd spent all morning flirting with, and Justin, who after kissing him desperately in the hallway had disappeared and not come back. So far he'd been gone for two hours, and no one knew where he was. His cell phone was off, leaving no way to get a hold of him.
Lance sighed and studied the ground, shaking his head slowly. JC sat down beside him, resting an arm on the back of the couch as he gazed at him, troubled. "I don't know, Jace," Lance whispered softly. He looked back up, hopeful. "Did you get a hold of him, yet?"
JC frowned slightly. "No. He's still got his cell off." He hesitantly placed a hand on Lance's leg. "What is going on with you two, Lance? Why won't you talk to me anymore?" He swallowed hard, touching his heart. "You are killing me, here. You're my best friend, Lance. A-and I know I promised to give you up without protest, but Jesus, I didn't think that you would push me out of your life completely!"
Lance reached out and took JC's hand off of his chest, holding it in his lap between his. He stared at their joined hands, a million thoughts racing through his mind. He was hurting JC, he was being raped by their choreographer, he was going out with the boy he had spent five years arguing with and who had disappeared without word, he was insane to think that Justin was just using him, he was ruining his life, and he was taking everyone else with him.
The door to the studio opened, and everyone looked up. Justin stood there, looking exhausted, but god, he looked perfect. For a moment Lance could only stare at him, and their eyes met. Justin's eyes landed on Lance's hands, joined with JC's, and Lance stood automatically, releasing his hold on JC and crossing the room to Justin until he stood in front of him. He looked like a god damn golden angel, he really did. Lance had never loved anyone more than he loved Justin right then.
Wordlessly, Justin took a step backwards, pushing the door open without letting his eyes leave Lance's. Lance followed, stepping out into the hallway. Justin moved away from the door, letting it fall shut, and then led the way down the hallway, his back to Lance. Lance followed dutifully, feeling like a little puppy as he trotted along behind him. The guards followed them, to the hallway they had each run to before. Justin went straight for the corner and sat down, and after a hesitation, Lance knelt beside him, gazing at Justin's forlorn, exhausted face.
"This isn't going to work."
Lance's eyes widened as he stared at Justin, who leaned his head back against the wall and had his eyes closed. He was speechless and terrified, his heart wrenching in his chest. Already? Two days? Granted, Lance knew that this was all his fault, and he quickly opened his mouth to plead with Justin to give him one more chance, that he wouldn't fuck up this time, but Justin was continuing.
"I can't sit here and watch you hang all over JC or Parker," Justin spat the name, and opened his eyes to gaze into Lance's. Lance leaned back a few inches at the vehemence he saw there, and then averted his eyes, cringing slightly. "You can't ignore me, and then expect me to be okay with it. It's not okay, Lance, and there's no way that I can be in a relationship like that. I love you, Lance. I have always loved you. It took a lot for me to realize that. But unless you stop keeping secrets from me, this isn't going to last. If you can't be honest with me, then we're fucked from the beginning."
Lance let out a soft sigh, then swallowed when he realized there was a large lump in his throat. "I saw you yesterday," he mumbled finally. "In the kitchen. You had your head in your hands and you looked terrible. I-I thought that..." he trailed off, swallowed again, and gazed at the ground. "Guilt. I thought that--"
"You thought I wanted to be with you out of guilt," Justin finished in a breath. Lance nodded numbly and stared at his hands, ashamed. "Oh Lance," Justin sighed softly, his voice sounding choked. Lance hesitantly raised his eyes to see Justin's blue ones trained on him, filled with tears. "No. No, that's not it at all. I don't know how to prove it to you--"
"You did," Lance interrupted shakily. "When you yelled at Chris. I just knew. I don't know how. But..." He pursed his lips, then forced himself to meet Justin's pained blue eyes. "Justin, I'm fucked up right now. I can try to deny it all I want, but the truth is that I am just plain fucked up. I don't know what's going on in my mind half the time. I'm paranoid as hell, as you can tell..." He clasped his hands together as if in prayer and held them to his mouth. "I want this to work, Justin, I swear to god that I do. But I don't know if I can right now."
Justin swallowed hard and nodded, smiling weakly. "I had a feeling that was the way this was going to end up," he whispered softly, his voice breaking. Tears brimmed his eyes. "But hey, it's not like there's not a future, right?"
Lance shook his head mournfully. "I don't want this to end," he assured Justin softly, his own voice cracking. "But I don't know what to do. I won't be good to you, Justin. I won't give you what you deserve."
Justin's eyes flooded with tears. "Tell me that you love me," he pleaded softly.
"I love you," Lance whispered, taking Justin's hands in his. "I love you so much, Justin."
Justin whimpered quietly and then captured Lance's mouth in a long, soul searing kiss. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. He loved Justin, Justin loved him, and yet because his mind was so screwed up they couldn't be together. No matter how much they wanted it to work, it just wouldn't.
Lance couldn't stop his sobs.
"We're going back on tour in one week!" JC proclaimed as he rushed into the studio. Lance's head snapped up from where he was working on the dance moves with Justin and gaped at him in disbelief. It was too good to be true, wasn't it? Was it actually possible that he was going to get away from Parker?!
From the way Justin's hand tightened on Lance's shoulder, he thought that it was.
"When'd you find that out, Jace?" Chris asked, from where he and Joey sat on the couch together. Joey's arm was around the back of the couch, behind Chris, and Chris had his head back on Joey's shoulder.
"About ten minutes ago. Johnny called me and told me that they rescheduled their dates, so we're going a week early." JC shifted happily from foot to foot. "This is awesome, guys! We're finally going back out there!"
And away from Parker, Lance added mentally, grinning happily. He was free, free! Parker wouldn't be able to touch him anymore! Oh god, this was perfect! Absolutely perfect!
"That's great news," Justin agreed, grinning as well. Lance smiled up at him, and Justin grinned back.
"So we've got a lot of work to do," JC continued, nodding at Justin and then turning to Parker. "Let's do this!"
Parker was not smiling.
"Oh Jesus," Justin breathed in horror, watching as Lance staggered out of the building. He was in terrible shape. He looked like a truck had just run him over, except for his face and neck. He was shaking and having a hard time walking. Within seconds of seeing him, Justin dashed to his side and tried to hold him up, tears of anguish stinging his eyes. He wanted to help Lance, by god he did. One of these days, he was going to kill Parker.
"Don't," Lance pleaded, pushing feebly at Justin's hands. "You're hurting me."
Those words, as often as he'd been hearing them lately, never ceased to sting and hurt. Justin clenched his jaw and nodded, stepping back a bit from Lance. "Can you walk?" Justin asked softly, his voice cracking. He never got used to the sight of Lance after Parker had had his way with him. He didn't think he ever would; could.
Lance mumbled something incoherantly. Before Justin could ask him to repeat himself, his knees buckled out from under him and Lance started to fall. Justin surged forward and caught him desperately, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared down in panic at Lance. Lance was certainly unconscious, and he wanted nothing more than to take Lance to the hospital. He had to take Lance to the hospital. Lance could be... He could be bleeding to death. Or-or he could have something internally wrong with him. He could die and it would be all Justin's fault, and Justin wouldn't be able to live with himself--
"Home," Lance pleaded quietly, his eyes opening with a struggle and meeting Justin's. Justin nearly broke down at the pain he saw in those beautiful green eyes. "Please?"
Justin swallowed hard. "Alright," he agreed softly. "I'll take you home." He didn't want to take Lance home. He wanted to take Lance to the hospital where someone trained in this sort of stuff would be able to help him. God damn Lance's stubborn streak!
Carefully Justin picked Lance up, cringing as Lance let out a soft moan. He silently debated just taking Lance to the hospital anyway, but if Lance never forgave him... Then again, wasn't Justin just an accomplice by letting Lance continue to be raped? It was a lose-lose situation. If Lance hated him for the rest of his life, at least Lance could stop being hurt. And then Justin could cry every night, miserable and alone, but at least Lance would be okay.
One look at Lance, slumped in the passenger seat unconscious broke Justin's resolve. He was so beautiful... So god damn beautiful, that Justin wouldn't be able to take it if Lance hated him. He needed Lance. He had to be with him. Lance was his obsession and he knew it, but he couldn't do anything against Lance's wishes. If Lance wanted to be taken home, then he would take Lance home.
And he'd do the best he could on his own.
~~~~End Part Eight~~~~