Welcome to "Lance's Search," a multi-chapter exploration of a young man discovering himself. As much as I would suspect otherwise, I have no actual proof of the sexual orientations of Lance Bass, Justin Timberlake or JC Chasez. Consequently anything you read in this story is the product of the mind of its author. That said, this story attempts to take a realistic look into the thoughts and feelings of a guy as he discovers the pains and the joys associated with loving his fellow man... or his fellow band mate as the case may be.
The feedback from y'all has tapered off badly, so if you have any comments, please e-mail them to bjluver@gay.com. Either way, enjoy the story.
BJ
Previously on Lance's Search...
Lance was a bit upset, but he knew something must be wrong. So for now, he kept silent as he and Justin made it back to the parking lot and to Lance's vehicle.
Once they were both seated, Lance stared over at Justin. "What's the deal? How come we had to leave without talking to JC?"
"It was that guy," Justin began slowly. "The one who picked up JC."
"What about him? Do you know him?"
"If I tell you, promise me that you won't be upset with either me or JC?"
"What?"
"Just promise me."
Lance was thoroughly confused by now, but also more curious than ever. What could possibly have Justin freaked out like this? "I promise. After all we've been through, of course I'll promise. Now what's this guy's story?"
Chapter 18
Lance could tell Justin was reluctant to talk about the guy who picked up JC at the airport, but Lance had no intention of moving from the parking lot until he got some sort of explanation. Fortunately they were in the parking garage, sheltered from the hot Florida sun, so Lance didn't see any need to rush out of there until he got some answers.
"Please, Justin. I need to know who that guy was and why we couldn't even so much as say hello to JC," Lance said plaintively.
Justin turned his head away from Lance and stared out the window of Lance's vehicle. "Remember back when we first came out to each other? Remember when I told you I'd had some experience with other guys?"
"Of course I remember."
Justin smiled to himself slightly. "Yeah, of course. Well, you know this lifestyle we lead being in the band. If we're not out on concert tour, we're on the road for promotions or in the studio. We don't have a lot of time to ourselves."
"I know."
"Well, that makes it rough trying to build a relationship with anyone. It ain't easy for a straight guy living like we do. It's gotta be at least ten times harder for a gay boy."
"You know you're depressing the hell out of me."
Justin turned his head back toward Lance and looked at him. "Sorry, that wasn't my intention. Anyway, you know neither one of us can just go up to a guy we meet and say, 'would you like to sleep with me?' Not only might you end up with a black eye, but pick the wrong person and the story is spread around faster than the speed of light."
"That guy JC met in the airport, did he hurt you or blackmail you or something?" Lance asked excitedly.
"No, no. Not at all. Nothing like that. But sometimes, when you just gotta have sex and you have to do it discreetly, there are ways."
"Ways? What ways? I'm not following you. You're not talking about some public restroom or adult video store are you?"
"No. No way. Too risky even for this puppy. I remember what happened to George Michael. I don't need that kind of publicity."
"What then?"
"You know, the Internet is a wonderful thing."
"You meeting people in chat rooms to have sex with?"
"No. I've done various chat rooms, but I've never hooked up with anyone I've chatted with. You never know who you're really talking to. They might say they're 18 years old and really be 78. But I'll chat with them. After all, I'm not being honest about who I am when I'm online, how can I judge others?
"Anyway, online you can also find a wide range of guys who offer services."
Lance had a blank look on his face.
"Hmmm. Let me try another way of putting it. Have you ever heard about escorts, and I don't mean the car."
"You mean prostitutes?"
"I prefer the word escorts."
"But that's what you're talking about, isn't it? You've hired male prostitutes, right?"
"Yes. A few."
"God, Justin, isn't that illegal? That's not exactly a good PR move either. You're worried about another George Michael incident, but not about hiring prostitutes? And what's to stop them from telling everyone."
"Lance, man, calm down a minute. This is why I was so hesitant to tell you. I was afraid you'd act this way. Damn, I'm sorry I ever told you," Justin said angrily.
The two were quiet for a moment. Then Lance spoke up.
"Justin, I'm sorry. I was wrong to go off like that. We've shared so much with each other. We've been open and honest about things, for which I have been so grateful. It's made me feel better about myself. And instead of being a good listener and a good friend, I flew off the handle. Forgive me?"
"I'm sorry too. I should've told you earlier. This wasn't exactly the best way of doing it. I'll forgive you if you forgive me."
Lance reached for Justin's hand. Justin willingly opened his hand to accept the grasp of his friend. They intertwined their fingers. "Forgiven?" Justin asked. "Forgiven," Lance responded. "You?" "How can I stay mad at a guy who's had so much peroxide applied to his spikes?" Justin said with a big grin.
"Hey! I ain't the only one here who's hair wasn't exactly natural for a while."
"Could we maybe finish up this conversation at your place instead of here in the parking lot? The air is getting kind of stale in here and I think I've got to visit a sandbox soon."
Lance shook his head, smirked and started up the engine and heading out of the parking lot. Neither one got into heavy conversation during the ride. They sang along to a couple of tunes on the radio. They made comments about other drivers and vehicles. And every once in awhile, Justin would use his little boy voice to ask if they were there yet.
Once they arrived at Lance's place, Justin sprinted to the bathroom. Lance could hear Justin's stream breaking the surface of the water in the toilet for what seemed like an eternity. "That boy is gonna have to cut back on the coffee," Lance said to himself.
Justin wandered into the living room and exclaimed, "Man, that feels better."
"I'm not surprised. By the sounds of it you shouldn't have any fluids left in your body."
"Trust me, I've got plenty of love juice waiting to be released."
"Leave it to you to take a simple statement and turn it into something dirty."
"That's me!"
"Now that you've relieved yourself, let's get back to these prostitutes."
"Escorts."
"Whatever. Aren't you afraid that one of those guys would tell other people about you paying to have sex with them?"
"Not really. The few guys I've hired are pretty professional about it. It's their living. They don't get much business if they aren't discreet about it. Word gets around and they lose clients. Heck a couple of them mentioned they regularly service some other guys in the music business, including so-called boy band members."
"Such as?"
"I don't know. Wouldn't tell me. They respect the privacy of the people who hire them. I respect the fact that they wouldn't give me any names."
"And so this guy JC met at the airport?"
"Chris. His name is Chris. And yes, I've been with him a few times."
"Does Chris have a last name?"
"I'm sure he does, but I don't know it. I doubt that Chris is his real first name. Generally these guys seem to give themselves assumed names to keep people from knowing who they really are. I never suspected for a moment that JC might be doing the same thing. Heck, I never even thought JC got into guys. Guess I've been blind or something. You ever think JC might be gay?"
"Well, to tell you the truth, yes."
"Get outta here. If I couldn't figure it out with my advanced gaydar, how did you?"
To be continued...