Hi! It's me again, after a long, LONG break and pause...I'm really sorry about that. School just decided that it would pounce on me and keep my so incredibly busy as to prevent me from sleeping, and so every moment I could find to sleep was used for that exact purpose. I know I'm behind on my last projection, but...hey, here it is, OK? Break was spent traveling, and so I didn't have TOO much time to devote to this thing. For those of you who know me, you know the extent of my break. I'm really sorry if this chapter took a downward turn in quality...if it did, and it's really noticeable, please tell me! You can find how to contact me in the next paragraph. And now, for my thank yous: to Ryan, who's always able to put a smile on my face despite our political clashes, to Ken, who's just there to rant to, to Michael (go read Lance and Michael if you haven't!) who has been bugging me about this...including while I'm writing this, to Jeff (JLS! Twist of fate is FINALY out) for being an interesting chat whenever he's on, to Gabriella's story (My Surprise Romance) for inspiring me to get back to writing (although it prevented me from writing while I busily read). And finally to my bf who, although kept me way up past my bedtime on some nights, has been a great help in everything, including clearing my head after hectic days. Thanks for just being there. I can't give you a projection as for when my next chapter will be out. Like I've said in many prior author's notes, I am a student first, a musician second, a sleeper third, and a writer fourth. Sorry guys. One very time consuming part of my life just finished, but another one just took it's place, so...we'll see.
Oh, yes, please, please, PLEASE give me a heads up if you notice any changes for the worse in my writing...I'm not sure if I can keep up with the quality I had over the summer. And just general criticism! Please, nothing like "Good story, keep writing." I want something like REAL literary criticism...and don't worry about sounding like a jerk (which, by the way, is defined as delta a over delta t) because I'm used to really cutting remarks...it's called the music department, theater, and photography. If you're involved in the arts, you KNOW how harsh some of that criticism may be. So don't worry! But mail me, address is at the top, or IM me at MooToYou42!
OK, and here are the boring, various disclaimers. This is a FICTIONAL story involving the band NSync, specifically member Lance Bass. I do not know NSync in any way, shape, or fashion with the exception of what I can get off of fan pages, their official site, various interviews, and the like. I do not know the sexual orientations of any members, although a guy can dream, can't he? :-) I do not claim to know the personalities of any member of NSync either, and all reactions are the product of one deranged author.
If you're part of NSync, please e-mail me! If you're not, e-mail me anyway!
Iff (test your math/science terminology here!) you are offended by homosexual relationships, or are under 18 or the legal age in your area, or your local laws/customs do not permit the reading of such material, then don't continue. This is (hopefully!) a real story with emotions beyond passion. If those rules apply to you, then don't get caught reading this if you do decided to go on and read it.
Previously in "Every Little Thing I Do"...
"Odd, I thought we were the only people on this floor. And I don't recognize him from any of the crew," commented JC.
"Maybe he's a hotel employee, or a temp on one of the crew," suggested Joey.
"Maybe, but I don't like that," responded JC. "I'm gonna give Mel a call." He pulled his phone out of his pocket as we descended toward the lobby.
"C to M, over."
"M here. What's up?"
"We just had some person walk out onto our floor, and none of the guys recognized him. Did we get a new crew member?"
A pause. "Not that I know of. I'll have security check the floor right away. M out."
JC returned the phone. "Weird," was all he said as we picked up our tickets at the front desk and walked into the humid August night.
Every Little Thing I Do
Chapter 12
By Mahka
"No day but to-DAAAAAAYYYYYY!"
The 15 cast members took their positions and lifted their arms to thunderous applause as the band struck the final chords. The took quick bows and ran off stage, only to return second later for another curtain call, despite the lack of a curtain. They returned one more time before finally disappearing from the stage permanently, and the band played the exit music. The loud rock beats came through loud and clear.
"Man, that was AWESOME! I can't believe I never bothered to see it before!" exclaimed Justin.
"You like?" I was grinning, having seen my sixth show, but my first in New York.
"Yes! Can we see it again?" Justin was practically climbing on the chairs as we left the theater.
JC chuckled. "Maybe, depends. We've got our own show to do, remember?"
"Ah, Mark can fill in for me. I'll come back here." Justin slung an arm around me. "You know all the dance steps and notes, right?"
"Uh, first, no, and second, I have a hurt ankle!"
"Oh yeah, that's right."
"So what do we do now?" asked Joey. It was nearly 11, but none of the guys looked tired.
"Go stand by the stage door! Get the autos!" I responded. I always went to the stage door after the show, and by the third show in Philadelphia, the cast knew who I was. Of course, this was a different cast, but hopefully they would be just as pleasant.
"All right, let's go be the star struck ones for once in our careers," said JC.
"Woohoo!" crowed Chris. He grabbed his program tightly and made a dash for the door leading outside.
"Hey! Don't leave us here!" shouted Joey. He followed Chris, and he disappeared from view as he exited the building.
"Shit," muttered JC. "C'mon, we gotta follow them." The four of us briskly walked through the exit and looked around for the two delinquents. They were busy waiting at the door along with ten or so fans. I was surprised to see that they didn't get recognized.
We walked up to them and started talking with them, acting nonchalant just in case some eagle-eyed fan managed to look beyond the simple disguises the guys wore. In fact, the disguises were obsolete, considering the conditions. Hats and sunglasses were not needed when it was dark. Most of the guys had ditched the sunglasses, but Chris had kept them on for whatever reason.
A few minutes later, the door opened and the first cast member stepped out. I tried to place his face, but I couldn't remember what role he had played. Wasn't Mark, Roger, Collins, or Benny, although it might have been Angel, considering the drag worn on stage. Who cares? We surged ahead as a group, compliments flying through the air, hugs being exchanged, pictures taken. None of the guys had brought a camera, and I had left mine at the hotel, but we shrugged it off. The cast member left, not recognizing any of the guys.
A little later a couple of members came out, laughing and chatting, the mandatory water bottle in hand. You can always tell a singer just by the presence of a water bottle near by. They started signing autographs, chatting and laughing, posing for pictures. Once again, they were part of the supporting cast, although in Rent, there was no minor cast member.
Chris, acting completely goofy, pushed his way to the front and shoved his program out. He was like a little kid. Scribble, scribble, brief exchange of words, a laugh, and they were done.
As the two members mingled with a few groupies, the door opened once again. This time I recognized the cast member, since I had seen him four times in Philadelphia. He did the same thing that the previous three had done: a few autographs, photos, a bit of chatting.
I pushed my way up this time, and he spotted me.
"Hey! Aren't you that kid who saw us like five times in Philly?"
I laughed. "Yes, I guess! 'Mark, Mark, I'm Mark!'" I quoted.
"Ah yes, that's right! What brings you here?"
"I'm here with a few friends, and they brought me over to see Rent. Actually, I suggested it, and it seems like they enjoyed it! Good job tonight, by the way. Sounded better than Philly."
"Hehe, thanks. Who are your friends? Actually, where are they?"
I looked over my shoulder and found three of them in a little circle. Joey and Chris were busy working the crowd, finding autographs. Crazy. "Well, three of them are back there, and the other two are talking with that girl over there."
Lambert looked toward Joey and Chris first, then glanced to the other three.
"You want to introduce them to me? After all, any friend of yours is a friend of mine!" See? I told you that I had gone to see it in Philly WAY too many times!
"Hey, Justin! Bring yourself and those two with you over here," I called.
He came trotting over, with JC and Lance a few feet behind. They were busy chatting, and the expression on Lance's face wasn't exactly the happiest.
"What's up?" asked Justin. He looked at me, then at Lambert.
"Justin, this is Lambert, one of the cast members. I met him in Philly when they were playing there. Lambert, Justin."
"How ya doin'?" asked Lambert, sticking out a hand. Justin shook it firmly, a smile on his face.
"Good, thanks! And those two back there are Josh and James." I gave Justin a confused look. Who? He returned my look with his eyes saying just to play along. It then dawned on me that Justin was using JC and Lance's real names instead of their nicknames, which is what they used for Nsync. It probably helped them keep their profile down.
Lambert glanced back, noted the two and flashed them a smile, then returned his focus to us.
"So, wow...what brings you here?" he asked.
"Ah, we were just up passing through New York and decided to catch a show. The guys have never seen Rent before, so I decided that we should see that and initiate these virgins to the show."
"Hey! We're not virg-" interrupted JC. "I mean, uh, we're just not virgins to the music industry, yeah, that's it." He turned a funny shade of red and slunk behind Lance. Lambert laughed.
"Yeah, sounds like a couple of real music people! Hey, I realized that you didn't get this in Philly, but...do you want to get a backstage tour?"
"Really? That would be awesome!" I answered for the group. The look of horror on their faces was quickly replaced with false smiles. "Oh, c'mon guys, it'll be interesting!" And probably better looking than your own backstages, I added silently, thinking of the mad house backstage always was.
"OK, well, give us a few seconds to grab those two star-struck ones over there," said Justin. He trotted off to get Joey and Chris with JC in tow. Lance leaned on my shoulder. I looked over at him.
"What's up?"
"Nothing," he whispered. "Just thinking how great you are."
I slowly and gently removed his chin from my shoulder. "First: SAP warning, and second: not now."
He looked hurt, but quickly got over it, and I chatted briefly with Lambert about how the show was, how he was liking working with the Broadway cast and all. Justin and JC returned with Joey and Chris, and the six of us followed Lambert through the stage door into the theater.
Thirty minutes later, very close to midnight, we finally left the theater, the seven of us laughing and joking around. It had been an interesting tour, with many, many tangents that brought us to nearly every subject imaginable. Lance had followed me through much of the tour, never moving more than two feet away. We said our good byes and let Lambert head home while the six of us headed back for the subway station.
"So, what'd you guys think?" I asked as we waited on the platform, staring at the advertisements on the opposite wall.
Silence.
I looked around, and noticed that two of them were asleep on the bench, and the other three were ready to fall asleep. They looked so cute, sprawled on a bench all over each other. If I only had a camera...
A screeching noise brought me out of my thoughts and a light down the tunnel indicated that a train was fast approaching. I woke the five of them up and managed to get them all onto the subway without losing one to that little gap they always warn you about. Really, who's going to fit through that thing? You'd need to be about two inches thick, and last I checked, nobody was only two inches from front to back.
As the doors closed and the subway started moving, the five of them came alive, surprising the hell out of me.
"Whoa! You guys were asleep ten seconds ago!" I shouted as Chris, who had been sitting next to me, suddenly gave a whoop and leaped from his chair. He pranced around the empty car, doing some weird dance with Joey and Justin. Lance, who was sitting on my other side, leaned his head on my shoulder.
I looked down at him, and saw his green eyes looking up at me, a pleasant smile on his lips.
"Where did I find you?" he whispered, still leaning on me.
I felt uncomfortable answering the question there, in the subway, with the other members in the car. I knew that we couldn't do what we were doing without raising suspicions unless we told them. Dammit, why did I always have to have the mood-killing thoughts?
Still, I pushed those aside and answered him with a fake tone of cheeriness.
"At the mall, on sale," I joked. "Only $4.99!"
He chuckled lightly, and closed his eyes, pretending to sleep. Ah, the joys of love. Love? Did I really just think that? I stopped my train of thought and backed up. Yes, I did. And I meant it. Not only that, but it love suddenly had a different definition, something that was deeper than any previous definitions. Wow, so this is what it's like, I thought.
A body stumbled into me, jostling Lance awake and breaking me out of my little reverie.
"Sorry!" shouted Justin as he pushed himself off of me. He ran back into the fray that was going on. JC was peacefully sitting on the opposite side, looking out the window into the darkness of the tunnel.
I wonder what he's thinking, I thought. I felt a familiar weight on my shoulder, and Lance's head was right back where it was as he snuggled up and closed his eyes. I let myself become entranced in the view of this sleeping person, looking like a child in his peaceful slumber.
We went through our multiple stops, nobody entering or leaving the train, and our destination was finally reached. We headed up out of the station toward the hotel in high spirits. It seemed like there wouldn't be much sleep that night, but one never knew. Frankly, I felt like I was going to drop on the spot. I just wanted to get to our room, take a shower, take out my contacts, flop into bed, and sleep for the next twenty hours. But lo and behold, that didn't happen, as prescribed when three guys have way too much energy. The ride in the elevator was so bumpy, I was surprised that the cable didn't snap from the bouncing. And as the doors opened to let us out, Justin and Joey went screaming down the hall, Chris frantically chasing after them. JC, Lance, and I just exchanged looks and headed for our respective rooms.
I stopped at the door, fishing in my pockets for the key. Not there, again.
"Lance?" I called. He was further down the hall, talking with JC. They both looked over in my direction, a curious look on his face. "I still don't have the key, I need yours!" I leaned on the door handle, shaking it to punctuate my point. To my surprise, the door swung open, and I stumbled in, landing hard on my bad ankle.
"SHIT!" I cried, collapsing in pain on the floor. I hit a solid mass as I went down, and I could hear thuds of footsteps as Lance and JC bolted over.
"Whoops, sorry!" said a voice above me.
I saw the silhouettes of the two Nsync members in the doorway. One was immediately by my side, the other suddenly leaping over me.
"Who are you?" shouted JC, grabbing the unknown person and shoving him against a wall. "And what the hell are you doing here?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" said the man, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. I rolled over to face the unknown person, Lance crouched beside me, a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I'm Ken, Mark's new PA."
"Ken who?" asked JC, his voice dripping with suspicion. "And since when did Mark get a PA, and why are you in his room?"
"Ken Offred. I've been on the crew for a while, and Evan recently asked me to become Mark's PA since he has a bum ankle and all. I was up here to check if he had everything he needed, and enough medical equipment to take care of his ankle."
I looked at Ken, a pang of recognition growing in my mind. It suddenly struck me - this was the guy who we had bumped into as we left for the show, the one no one knew about, including Mel. But that was nearly five hours ago. What was he still doing here?
"Wait a minute," said Lance, slowly standing. His touch left me feeling alone, but I was feeling better by then, the pain having subsided, and I struggled to stand as well. "You're the guy we called Mel on. If you're Mark's new PA, how come Mel didn't know about it?" Good man, thinking the same thing I was. Logically, we were on the same wavelength. Emotionally, it was a different story. Maybe. I wasn't sure yet.
"Yeah, I was detained by security for about three hours," explained Ken. "I wanted to come up and introduce myself earlier, but I hadn't realized that you guys were leaving. I was pretty intent on rehearsing what I wanted to say and my duties as a PA, so I didn't really notice you. Security showed up, and they held me for three hours while Mel questioned me. Evan wasn't around, and we couldn't reach him on his phone. Evan had told me of my new assignment just before I came up, as he was leaving, so I guess he didn't have a chance to tell Mel." He stopped, looking at us. JC released his shoulders, but I could tell from the look in his eyes that he was still wary of Ken's story. And to be honest, I was wary as well, and Lance was too, based upon the tension I could feel coming from him.
"OK, well, why are you in my room this late at night? Hell, how did you GET in my room?" asked Lance.
"Your-? Oh, right," Ken said, shuffling his feet. "You and Mark are sharing a room. Like I said, I was making sure he had enough medical equipment for his ankle. I didn't want to bother you too late at night, or, rather, in the morning. And I had a security guard unlock your room."
I saw JC look at his watch. It was well beyond midnight, more along the lines of one or even two. I was tired, hurting, and just wanted to sleep. Lance opened his mouth to say something, but I cut in.
"Yeah, well, now you're done, we know who you are. We'll check with Mel and Evan on this in the morning," I said crankily, shoving JC and Ken towards the door. "But now I'm tired, and I want to sleep, and you have bothered me late at night." Ken visibly cringed at that last remark.
"I'll see you tomorrow then," he said, turning down the hall. "Have a good night's rest." He trotted away, JC looking at him. After he had turned the corner, JC returned to face us.
"Well, I'm glad that - HEY!" JC's handsome face was cut off as I slammed the door. I turned on my heel, heading into the room and shoving by Lance, whose face was open in shock.
"Marky, that wasn't very nice," he admonished. Knocks started coming through the door, as well as JC's voice.
"I don't care. He could be the President, and I'd still slam the door in his face. I'm tired, I'm going to bed." I gathered my things, and walked into the bathroom as Lance opened the door for JC.
"Mark! That was NOT very-" He was cut off for the second time as I slammed the bathroom door and locked it.
The next morning found me wrapped tightly in my sheets, like a mummy. I was alone in my bed, Lance sleeping peacefully in the one over. I figured that I had tossed so much during the night that I had wrapped myself in. I had done it before. My sleeping habits were beyond erratic, one time leaving me in a different bed than the one I started in, another time having turned a full 180 so that my feet were on the pillow.
I struggled against the sheets, moving against them, hoping to break free. I thrashed for a good five minutes, rolling around, worming my way around. I gave up, realizing that for whatever reason, the sheets were not coming undone. I decided that it might be good to open my eyes again and look at my condition. I looked down at myself, and did a double take. Sitting neatly on my chest was a giant knot of rope. The remainder of the rope was wound somewhat loosely around my mummified body, loose enough that it would seem natural, but tight enough that I wouldn't be able to get out of the tangle of sheets.
My blurry vision fixed on the numbers of the clock, telling me that it was most certainly time to get up, and then slid over to the sleeping angel a bed over.
Or rather, the devil in disguise. Despite my blurred vision, I saw Lance shut his eyes quickly as I looked at him, and a smirk disappeared from his face, but not quickly enough, nor quick enough. He started to snore, that fake snoring sound people always make.
"LANCE!" I shouted from my tied up state. He rolled over, pretending to sleep. "James Lansten Bass! I KNOW you're awake! Get your lazy ass out of bed and help me!"
Lance rolled over again, initiating a fake yawn and stretch routine and looked at me with what should have been sleepy eyes, but were rather eyes filled with mirth and trickery. Yes, all that sans my glasses.
"Oh, good morning Mark. Sleep well?" he chided.
"Lance, what did you do? Or was it JC?"
"Well," he said, getting out of bed and sitting down by me. He ran a hand through my tousled brown bed head, and then started tracing a finger over my face. "Someone was rather rude last night to a rather large pop star, and that star, with the help of one of his friends, decided to have a little fun and exact revenge at the same time." His finger continued its downward path, over the sheets toward the knot. "And this," he said, patting the knot, "is the result. Like it?" He gave me one of those patented devilish smiles.
"What do you think?" I asked. Still, I couldn't help but smile at the situation. They must have waited until I was dead asleep, so well beyond two or even three. That, and Lance knew my sleeping habits well enough in the four days we had been together to know that I would wrap myself in my sheets.
"Well, now the challenge, my dear, is to get yourself out of it." He placed a quick kiss on my forehead, and got up, walking around the room. He walked into the bathroom, and I heard him on the phone. "JC? It's Lance. Our prey is awake. You wanna see him try to get out of his plight?...OK, door's open when you're ready." I head the door open, and the sound of the security bar being placed between the door and the frame reached my ears. Lance returned to his position between our beds. I looked at him with daggers in my eyes, his face a blur. But I could still make out the smirk on his face.
"Well, if anything, can you at least put my glasses on my face so I can see this knot?" I figured it wouldn't hurt. He removed my glasses from the table and set them on my nose. He, too, was wearing his glasses, looking much better than myself. The fact that his were much thinner might've helped.
"Hey, I can see you, too!" I gave him the once over, examining him from his messy hair to his bare feet. But I never got that far. His boxers were as far as I got. A noticeable bulge was present through the wild print of the fabric. "And," I added, looking at him slyly, "I can see that you've got a problem that hasn't been taken care of yet."
He gave me a confused look, and then followed my gaze towards his crotch. His face turned a funny shade of red as he jumped back in his bed, drawing the sheets up. Odd odd odd, him being ashamed of something like that. Just the other day he was ready to let me at it while we were in the midst of our make out session, and now he was hiding.
The door creaked open, and JC entered the room.
"So, let's see what he looks like, eh?" he asked, briskly rubbing his hands together. He caught sight of me, trussed up like a pig ready for the fire, and promptly broke out in a fit of giggles. JC pulled a little disposable camera from his pocket, and snapped a picture of me. I just glared.
"Looks like we did a good job, Scoop!" JC turned to look at Lance, who was still under the covers. "Uh, dude, why are you under the covers?"
Before he could answer, I answered for him. "He's got a little problem that he hasn't taken care of yet, or maybe, a rather big problem." JC had an incredibly confused look on his face. Maybe it wasn't late enough for the gutter portion of his mind to be working. "Down there," I added, motioning down Lance's body.
"Huh? Dude, Lance, you've seen us all in various states of undress in the dressing room and what not. Hell, we've even seen each other naked a couple of times..." His voice trailed off as realization swept over his face. "Oh," he said, his face turning a bit red. Lance's face only turned redder. "Umm, Justin's gone off to the gym if you wanna use my room - oh wait, no..." JC shuffled his feet, looking funny. I smiled smugly, knowing that I had finally gotten the best of them.
"Well, if you guys untie me, I can get into the bathroom long enough for Lance to take care of his business, and JC can go back to his room..."
Without another word, JC was by me, undoing the knot that weighed heavily on my chest. Bit by bit, the weight lessened as rope fell away. As the bonds loosened, I squirmed a bit more, and soon I was free. I sat up, and thanked JC. With a few hurried good byes, JC left the room, closing the door properly behind him.
I sat on the edge of Lance's bed, and looked at him. His face was slowly returning to its original color.
"Well, Mr. Bass. You gonna cross me again?"
"I don't think so," he replied. I kept looking at him as my hand started to scoot down on top of the covers. I felt a change in altitude, and my hand stopped moving. Instead, my fingers started to dance, and as expected, Lance's penis grew harder, the bulge growing larger.
"Is someone getting excited, Mr. Bass?" I kidded, a smug smile forming on my face.
Without warning, Lance's face switched into pure animal desire, shocking me for the brief second before he pulled me down into a massive kiss. His tongue darted along my lips, and at the same time, I found myself being drawn into the sexual frenzy that had engulfed him. I opened my mouth, accepting his tongue as we made out. His hands were on my back and on my head, and he kissed me as if he was a suffocating man who suddenly found an oxygen tank. Bit by bit, the covers separating us moved down as he kicked them away. Our glasses clinked, and we paused for a brief moment to remove them and set them on the table beside the bed. We resumed our hungry consumption of each others tongue, and we rolled on the bed, with myself suddenly under him. He pushed himself up slightly and peeled off my pajama T, exposing my flesh to the cold air of the room.
"Yes, someone is getting very excited, and someone is going to join in the excitement," he said in a husky voice, as if his voice could get any lower. What a change from before, unless he knew that JC was going to come in, and therefore decided to hold it until JC was gone. I had played right into his game, and frankly, I enjoyed it. Actually, I was enjoying the results of the game a hell of a lot.
My hands slid up his T-shirt, and we broke once again as his shirt came off over his head. We continued to make out, with him on top of me. Despite the cold air, I didn't feel cold as his warm flesh pressed upon me from above, his arms encircling me. I slowly slid my hands from his head down his strong back, being careful not to leave any scratches. It wouldn't be good if a wardrobe person noticed later on. I reached the elastic band of his boxers, the border, and the point of no return. In response, his hands slid down my sides to the elastic band of my pajama pants, and a finger on each side entered the borders. I took it as my cue, and both hands were suddenly under the fabric, joining the soft flesh of his ass. His kissing intensified, his tongue darting deeper into my mouth. I massaged his cheeks, parting the crack slightly, just enough to tease him. I could feel the fine hair on his thighs, soft and downy. I moved to the sides of him, approaching the pleasure center on the lower half of the body. I stopped short, not knowing whether or not he wanted me to continue. His hands slid down my pants, feeling my legs, and moving toward my own rock hard cock.
I moved in, taking his cock into my hands and massaging it. He did the same, our hands pressed between our bodies. He started to grind slightly, but I stopped that with a little excess pressure to his cock. I moved my hands and fingers skillfully over his growing manhood, enjoying the feel, and the squirming above me told me that he enjoyed it as well. I felt his hands, large but smooth, roaming toward my cock, and gasped as his fingers wrapped around it. This was the first time we had ever become this intimate, the first real sexual contact.
And then the inevitable happened, again. A knock came at the door. We quickly pulled apart, disappointment crossing my face and Lance's. We scrambled for pants, and as we pulled them on, Lance called out "Who is it?"
"Ken," came the muffled reply.
"What the fuck?" I muttered. Lance's PA had never knocked at his door. Hell, Lance's PA usually didn't even see Lance except at the concerts or rehearsals. I stormed to the door and flung it open, ready to start screaming.
What met my eyes as I opened the door shocked me. Piled on top of a cart covered by a white table cloth were several plates, a carafe of orange juice, and glasses. Breakfast. My PA had brought me breakfast.
"I thought you might like some breakfast," he said meekly, seeing my state of partial undress and the look of fury in my eyes. I instantly calmed down.
"Aw, thanks Ken. That was very thoughtful. But um, next time...could you tell me first so I'm somewhat ready for breakfast?"
"Oh, OK, no problem." He shuffled his feet, and then pushed the cart inside the room, setting it up at the foot of the bed. He noticed Lance in his partially undressed state as well, and I couldn't help but notice that his eyes seemed to linger a bit longer than necessary on my boyfriend.
"I brought you guys bacon, eggs, toast, french toast, waffles, OJ, water. I hope you like it." He started to back out of the room, not taking his eyes off of Lance. Lance nonchalantly put a shirt on quickly, pretending that he was just getting dressed.
"Well, I'll let you two enjoy your breakfast. Just leave the cart outside when you're done. Have a good day, guys." Ken backed into the hall and closed the door on his words.
"Lance, I'm sorry...so sorry, about that whole thing." I went over and gave him a hug, knocking him back onto the bed. "Can you forgive me?" I looked into his green eyes, the same eyes that first trapped me. The glint told me he would, but was still disappointed about our interruption.
"Of course, it wasn't your fault. Come on, let's eat and get on with our day." He pushed me off, and sat up, and looked at the food. I grabbed a shirt, slid it on, and pulled up a chair opposite him. We dug into our food, eating in silence for a while, just looking at each other. Lance was so cute, with his spiky hair with blond tips, that angelic face. I noticed that his eyes were also wandering around my face, from my own light brown hair to the bottom of my chin, across my face which had seen plenty in the nineteen years I had been alive.
As Lance finished off the french toast and washed it down with a glass of OJ, he looked at me once again.
"So, what's up with that Ken? Did you notice how he looked at me that entire time he was in the room?"