My Surprise Romance

Hi y'all!

Okay, okay, okay..it seems like forever has passed since I've updated MSR. And I always promised that I would update on a regular basis and I myself used to get mad at authors who never updated their stuff.

Well, the tables have turned kids. I've turned into one of those people and it's not because I'm lazy and I don't want to write. It's because I have more graphic design things than you can shake a stick at. And tests in my non-art classes. Life has become hell in a handbasket for me and I'm sorry for not updating sooner. Thank you to the people who have worried about me! Y'all really made my day for caring.

Okay, enough bitching and moaning! Time to get onto the story!

A quick thank you to lots of people -- Dale, Damon, Ethan and a lot more, but especially John, Killian, Val, and Justin for all of the emails, chats and everything else. I love you guys so much...remember, email is sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com. Use it, love it, know it.

Visit my website! Updated! New JC/Lance story to boot! http://sweetheart.homepage.com

Oh, I've been nominated for Best Use of Lance in the NSYNC Fabrication Fan Fiction Awards!!!! Wow! Someone nominated me! And now I'm up for an award. Make my Christmas (since Lance with a strategically placed bow doesn't seem to be a gift option)--vote for me? Please?????? Pretty please???? Vote at http://jump.to/nsync_stories

And now...DISCLAIMER: Look, this is fiction. Complete and total fiction. I don't know if Lance is gay. I'd like to and if he was then I certainly know some nice boys who'd make good boyfriends for him. If you're not 18 or 21 then don't read it (or read it and don't tell anyone--but who am I do be encouraging naughty behavior). And last thing: Chapter 47 is a little kinky...just warning you....

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 46

Substitute for Mourning

Oscar Wilde once described gay sex as "the love that dare not speak its name" and for ages I had attempted to analyze those words. I used to lay in my bed at night, staring at the dark ceiling, my mind reeling...I had never gotten what the quote meant. I had heard it, but I never got it.

And now I did.

Sex. Plain and simple, sex can change everything. And I, of all people should have firsthand knowledge about that subject. It's not like I was a nymphomaniac, but even I could admit that last night's tryst at the pond between Lance and I had changed the dynamics in our relationship. Every time our eyes would meet, I could tell that Lance's eyes were filled with a passion that I hadn't seen lately. Something that had been missing ever since my mother died and I had held out on him. It wasn't as thought Lance had been pressuring me--in fact, he was more supportive and caring than I could have ever imagined. But last night...last night, that spontaneous romantic act was one of the most incredible experiences of my life. And something inside of me had snapped. Something about being with Lance had changed my whole outlook on life. And I couldn't explain it--words failed me when I had to describe my emotions, especially when they involved Lance...

And now I knew what Oscar Wilde had meant by that quote. I was a changed man, but yet I couldn't run out onto the street and tell everyone. I couldn't say out of the blue, "Hey, guess what? Lance and I had sex last night. Yeah...by a pond. It was great...changed my life. I feel like a different person now..." Yeah and let's see how fast I could be roped to the cross--come on, people, I'm not that stupid. You just can't go out and tell everyone that you're gay--but if I were, let's say, Cynthia, and I wanted to tell everyone about my passion filled nights with JC, no problem. People would accept it, without even blinking. But to tell people that Lance and I had sex--I'd receive weird stares and rude comments. It's not fair, but who am I to argue with the taboos of society? Not me, that's for sure. And not Lance either--so life moves on...

These complicated thoughts were running throughout my head as I packed up my belongings. We (we meaning Cynthia, Josh, Joey, Lance and I) were leaving Mississippi and heading to Florida tonight. We planned to drive there, and I think part of this reasoning was because Lance remembered my airplane phobia. Plus driving, gave Lance and I a little more time alone together, which as I folded up my shirts, was a nice thought. Lance and I alone in his 4-Runner? Come on, that scenario just writes itself out.

I continued to organize my suitcase, folding up my clothes, when Cynthia walked into the room. A huge smile was spread out on her pretty face as she took a seat on my bed and watched me pack my stuff up. Placing her hands on her lap, Cynthia watched as though what I was doing was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Cynthia," I said as I placed a t-shirt into my luggage. "What's up with you? You're acting weird..."

"Weird?" Cynthia asked, her violet eyes growing round with innocence. "I'm not acting weird...at least I don't think I am."

"Trust me," I said with a laugh as I walked over to the closet, where I had hung up some of my shirts. "You're acting weird. Your mouth isn't going a mile a minute, you're not giggling like a maniac--don't tell me something's not wrong." As I stood inside of the closet, I absentmindedly began to scratch my arm. Dammit, I thought with a grimace, I had quarter sized bug bites all over my body, and there was no doubt in my mind where I had gotten those from. That was one of the drawbacks of getting all hot and heavy outdoors. Bugs. Mosquitoes that just want to take a chunk out of your skin and God only knows what else, ready to suck out your blood. Take into consideration those stupid scratch marks that I had down my back and you have one itchy person on your hands. I was going insane...

Emerging from the closet with some of my shirts in hand, I began to removed the articles of clothing from the hangers and folded those as well. Cynthia took one from me and examined it.

"Stevie? Are these new? Abercrombie?" she asked suspiciously, as she noticed the logo on the front of the shirt. "They don't have any paint on them...none of them do. Are these Lance's?"

"No," I said a little too defensively. "I bought those one day when we were out on tour...can't a guy have any nice clothes in his wardrobe? Maybe for once in my life, I don't want to look like a slob."

Cynthia looked at me, and judging from the look she was giving me, she was clearly impressed with my new wardrobe. A little disgusted by the store that I had patronized, but impressed nonetheless. "Is Lancey-poo's style rubbing off on you?" she asked sweetly while folding up the shirt that she had just examined. "Huh huh? Is he?"

"Cynth--stop it," I admonished her, my face growing red. The truth was, I was dressing nicer and a lot of it had to do with Lance. First of all, I wanted to look good for him. I mean, that's not such a bad thing. He had a nice sense of style and I just didn't want to always look like a bum off the street when I stood next to him. Second, I was getting older. I was twenty one years old and it was time for me to stop dressing like a high school punk who didn't give a shit about anything.

"Oh come on, Stephen," Cynthia said, briefly stretching out on the bed, before sitting back up again. "You've changed so much since you've started seeing Lance...you're happier...you're not so depressing--"

"Hey," I cut her off, a little taken aback by her words. "I was never depressing." I paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Pessimistic, maybe, but depressing? No."

"Sweetie," Cynthia said, giving me one of her trademark smirks. "They mean the same thing." Her face grew serious and I knew she was about to give me one of her `Cynthia' lectures. And I was right. "Look, don't act stupid with me...I know you Stevie. I grew up with you. I know your personality. And everytime I see you, you have this stupid grin on your face--" She caught herself for a second. "Well..not lately...." I could see an image of my mother conjuring up in her mind, and a frown appeared on her face. Quickly pushing that thought aside, she smiled once again at me as another, more pleasant one entered her mind.

"Oh Stevie, come on--I saw you and Lancey in the kitchen today..." Cynthia mischievously raised her eyebrows at me. "You know, after we came in from outside?"

A blush crept over my face as my mind reeled back to that incident. "You saw?" I asked meekly as I looked away, outside the window. Ahh, the kitchen...after Cynthia, Josh and Joey had arrived at the Bass residence and we had all gone inside to discuss what the hell we were going to do that night. Josh and Cynthia were playfully arguing with each other, Joey was talking to Jim and Diane and Lance...Lance had decided to try and embarrass me by brushing a certain part of himself against my thigh, giving me a look in the process of doing so. I knew what that look meant. It was the, `Stephen-everyone's-busy-so-let's-go-upstairs-and-have-a-little-fun' look. Instantly, my body reacted to his touch and I had to get out of the room, before anyone noticed. Lance would have followed, except that Diane had asked him to do something for her and the mood was shot, leaving me in immense pain. He was going to kill me if he kept doing things like that to me.

And Cynthia had seen everything. I swear to God, nothing escapes her hawk eyes. Nothing. And sometimes, I wish she wasn't so attentive to little things like that. It seemed like Lance and I had nothing personal, nothing to ourselves...the lake was the first time that we had been alone in ages, without a single soul around. He had been right in his persistence when he wanted to spend time with me at then because now I wanted that alone time with him. That time was special. I had realized that I was happiest when Lance and I were alone...

It wasn't as though I didn't want my rambunctious cousin, her boyfriend and another `N Syncer there with us. No, I just wanted some more down time with Lance. That was a wonderful feeling in itself. We had achieved it last night and knowing what that felt like, I wanted to feel like that all the time. It was like a drug, I had concluded. Meeting Cynthia's gaze once more, I found she was was still staring at me with that somewhat annoying, bemused expression on her face.

"Yes, Stevie--I saw. Lance is the frisky one, isn't he?" Cynthia purred as she got up from the bed and walked over to the dresser. "And bold as well..right in front of his mom and dad..." A deeper blush crossed my face as she said this. Her knowledge of my sex life bothered me something fierce. I never asked her how many times she and Josh had got it on, nor did I want to know. That was personal. Why couldn't she understand it?

Cynthia turned away from the dresser, walked over to me and suddenly slapped me on the back. Wincing at her touch, I felt the sting of her touch radiate throughout my body. That hurt. Not to mention those painful scratches I had on my back. As much as I liked the idea of Lance marking me, I was sure there had to be a less painful way. I couldn't lie on my back, my shirts felt rough against my skin and now Cynthia had to go and slap me for no reason. Nice. Real nice.

She was babbling about something or other. Something about Lance and how everytime she saw us, we were always doing something of a questionable nature, when all of a sudden, she let out a fear-inducing gasp.

"Stevie?" she asked, sucking her breath in. "Stevie...your back...oh my God...you're bleeding..." Disappearing from the bedroom, worry began to course through my body. I knew very well why I was bleeding, but I didn't want my nosy cousin to see. One look at my back and she would tell everyone. I knew how uncontrollable Cynthia's mouth was and that was the last thing I needed...

Cynthia emerged a few seconds later, a wet cloth in her hand and a very worried expression on her face. I attempted to stop her pursuit by holding my hands out in front of me and waving her away, but that didn't work. Once Cynthia thinks that you're in trouble, forget it. Wild horses can't keep her away. Grabbing the hem of my shirt, she yanked the cotton material upwards and I heard another gasp leave her lips, this one more shocked than worried.

"Stevie...your back...it's all scratched up...oh my God, what happened to you?" I could feel her eyes roaming over my skin, taking in the deep red scratches that marked me up. "It looks like someone dragged a rake down your back."

"Cynthia," I said, my voice frantic with worry. "Leave me alone. I'm fine and nothing is wrong...just drop it, okay?" I pulled my shirt back down and resumed packing up my clothes. I didn't want to be scrutinized like a bug under a microscope. And suddenly, the light bulb over my cousin's head clicked on and an observant smile appeared on her pink glossed lips.

"Oh Stevie...don't tell me that Lancey-poo did that to you?" she asked, her voice coming out in a excited shriek. "Oh my Lord! He's a wild one, ain't he! Woo-hoo!!! Wait until everyone hears about that!" That was it. I had my breaking point with my cousin.

"Cynthia!" I screamed, turning around to face her. She jumped at the angry sound of my voice and I couldn't blame her. I sounded really pissed off and I was. I didn't need her to go and tell Josh and Joey about my back. That was personal. That was something between Lance and I and once again my persistent cousin had butted her two cents in where they didn't belong.

"Cynthia!" I repeated, my voice still harsh. "You will NOT tell everyone. You will keep your mouth shut about this--my back is none of your business, okay? Let's get that straight. And what Lance and I do is none of your business either. You're so nosy sometimes it's sickening." Scowling at my cousin, I was about to turn back to my suitcase when another thought crossed my mind. "So just drop it, Cynth. Leave me the hell alone already."

Silence. A resounding silence had filled the room and as I stood there, my slightly bleeding back facing my cousin, I heard nothing. And then a soft sobbing filled the room.

`Oh no,' I thought, a sense of dread filling my stomach. Slowly, I turned around and saw my cousin standing there, tears silently slipping down her cheeks and a hurt look on her face. I had made her cry. Cynthia wasn't used to being yelled at--everyone loved her and no one dared to scream at her. But I had. It was as though I had crossed some unspoken rule of Cynthia's law--don't make her cry. And I did. It wasn't as though I had enjoyed it, but I had had it with her. She enjoyed seeing me squirm whenever she pried into my personal life. I didn't like that. Maybe my cousin was right--maybe I had changed, and maybe some of that change wasn't for the better.

"Cynth," I began slowly, walking over to her. "Look, I'm sorry..." I reached out and wrapped my arms around her feeling my cousin's lithe body relax in my arms. "I'm sorry to have snapped at you like that, Cynthia...I really am..." I meant it. I didn't want to see my cousin cry, no matter how much she annoyed me at times.

"Stevie...I was just worried about you," Cynthia sniffed, her tears stopped as fast as they had started. Tipping her face up to mine, she peered at me with worried violet eyes. "I mean, you were bleeding...and I was worried. And ever since..." She took a deep breath and wiped a tear that fell from one of her eyes before continuing. "Ever since your mom--"

"Don't even say it," I cut her off, my voice sounding much more stern than I had intended it to. Cynthia looked at me, surprise clearly written all over her face. "Don't even say it" My voice had taken on a warning tone once more. I didn't want to think about my mother. Sure, you might say that I was being somewhat cruel by trying to forget my mother, but I wasn't. At least I didn't think I was....

"Okay," Cynthia said slowly, looking at me with apprehension. "I won't...it's just that." I looked at my cousin quizzically. It wasn't like her not to say what was on her mind. In fact, she was the type who never thought before she spoke and was always regretting what she said. And now, here she was, standing there, sputtering her words...

"Don't forget your mom, okay?" Cynthia suddenly blurted out, her eyes filling with tears once more. "Don't try to push her memory out of your mind because of what she did to you--everytime I've talked to you, you never want me to mention her name. It just seems like you want to forget her--don't." She took a deep breath and reached up to hug me. "You're just really tense and weird, and if you're not being tense and weird--" A smile appeared on her face. "You and Lance are really horny. One of the three."

"Cynthia," I said, trying to hold my laughter back. "You've only been around for a couple of hours--how do you know if Lance and I are," I felt a blush creep across my face. "Um, horny?" I hated talking about sex with Cynthia--I really did.

"Because," she said, the sadness finally disappearing from her eyes. "I've seen the way you look at each other and Stevie--" She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow at me. "I can just tell...you and Lance did it last night. I can smell it on you--and your back doesn't lie." I felt the blush on my face turn even redder as I busied myself by fixing my clothes in my suitcase. `How did she know everything?', I thought incredulity as I turned to face her. She was staring at me with this strange, protective look on her face and it caught me off guard. I was just about to ask her if she was alright, when Suddenly, Cynthia surprised me by reaching up and giving me an impulsive hug, nearly knocking me over onto the bed.

"Sweetie," Cynthia laughed. "Does Lancey like it when you blush like that?" The tone of her voice was light, full of happiness and I knew that the awkward moment between us passed for good.

"Cynthia--stop it," I said, laughing harder and harder by the second. How could I have yelled at her like that? She was my cousin, my friend, and one of the only people who stuck by me when things were rough--not to mention that she was full of great advice, even if she was the nosiest broad around. Cynthia response was to hug me even harder, almost strangling me while spinning me around.

"Come on, Stevie--does Lancey get all turned on when he sees you all embarrassed?" Cynthia continued to tease me, enjoying how she made me laugh. And as she continued to rib me, a deep, male voice cut into our goofing off.

"Leave my boyfriend alone--you have your own man downstairs, girl." Cynthia and I stopped our clowning around and looked up to see Lance standing there, arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the doorway. His eyes were watching us, with a clearly entertained look in them.

"Ooh, Lancey--I never knew you were the jealous type," Cynthia giggled as she walked over to him. She placed a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving a mark of lip gloss behind as she did so.

"Well, you're lucky I'm not," Lance scowled, pretending to look angry, ruining it by cracking up as soon as he had said it. "Hey, Cynth--get downstairs--Josh is looking for you. I think he misses you when you're not attached to him or something." He rolled his eyes good-naturedly at her. "Makes me sick to see you two kids in love."

Cynthia jostled him as she began to leave the room. "Oh puh-leeze...you and Stevie are practically glued at the hip so much you two should see how much Siamese twin attachment costs," she called over her shoulder as she began to make her way down the steps.

Lance looked at me from his spot in the doorway, and I watched as his eyes moved over me, as I stood there, fixing my shirts so that they wouldn't crush. The blush from my face still hadn't faded, and Lance noticed this with amusement.

"You okay?" he asked with concern. "Everything okay between you and Cynthia? I thought I heard you two arguing before..."

"Nope--we we're just talking...my back was bleeding and of course, Cynthia saw it and she was really worried about me." I shrugged my shoulders, as I closed up my suitcase. "No big deal."

"That's good," Lance said approvingly. "That you're not fighting, I mean,"he corrected himself. "Not your back--I'm really sorry about that. I know I apologized last night, but I really am." I looked up at him and noticed that a somewhat mortified look crossed his face. "Just got caught up in the moment..."

"I know...people do funny things when they get caught up in something," I said absently, as my mind concentrated on the idea of pulling Lance into my room and throwing him on my bed. What was happening to me? All I thought about was sex. I mean, I'm not acting like I was so innocent and good, but my mind usually thought about other things besides getting it on. But for the past few hours, thoughts of Lance naked, lying on the bed and beckoning me with those beautiful eyes of his were clouding my mind. And I'll tell you--that wasn't such a bad image to have permanently etched into my brain. It certainly was much more pleasant than the thoughts that had been poisoning my mind lately... I felt a burning heat shoot up my neck, much worse than when Cynthia had teased me. And Lance noticed...

"All flushed, I see," Lance noted as he walked over to me, but not before kicking the door to my room shut and locking it. I felt my face turn even redder as Lance stepped close to me, his body only millimeters away from mine. He wrapped his arms protectively around my waist and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his warm breath on my neck which sent pleasurable shivers down my spine.

"So Stephen," Lance whispered in my ear, his simple words stirring a reaction inside of my soul. "Miss me?" I felt like my entire body was on fire, and for a couple of seconds, I forgot how to move my mouth and how to speak.

"Of course," I answered as I felt his hand find its way up my shirt. Why were we like this again? It seemed that neither Lance nor I could think of anything else besides hopping into bed together--not that it was such a bad thing, but...geez, lately we were unstoppable. "I always miss you when you're not here."

Lance's hand moved upwards, creeping up the smoothness of my chest until I felt the pads of his fingertips brush against my nipples, hardening instantly at his touch. "Aww, you're being so sweet..." I felt his hands move lower, and rest on my waist once more as a dreamlike gaze fixated in his eyes. My breath caught in my throat as Lance began to play around with the buckle on my belt. "I missed you and I was just downstairs..." A shy smile appeared on his lips. "I did, y'know....and then my mom asked me if I would help her with dinner--she wants to feed all of us before we leave--and all I could think about was you." Lance punctuated his words by placing a long, lustful kiss on my lips. My knees buckled and my arms instinctively held onto him for dear life, knowing that if I hadn't done so, I would have fallen straight to the floor.

"Lance," I murmured against his lips after we parted, lost in the moment. "You're bad you know that? There is a whole living room of people downstairs and we're up here doing stuff that we shouldn't even be attempting." Giving me a devilish smirk, Lance began to lift my shirt over my head.

"Yeah? So what? I'm sick of being such a good kid..." Lance pressed his mouth to mine once more. "So what if we're doing something we shouldn't? I want to be bad, Stephen," A strange look replaced the dreamy one in his eyes as Lance yanked the shirt over my head. He threw it carelessly to the side, all the while pushing me towards the bed. I felt something poking into my thigh and that only turned me on more.

"We have five minutes," Lance whispered as we fell onto the bed together, a tangle of arms and legs and messy kisses against each other's skin. "And we have to be quiet..."

And we were.

Lance and I appeared downstairs roughly ten minutes later--so we had gone a bit overtime, but could you really blame us? I tried my best to keep the goofy, blissful smirk off my lips as Cynthia, Joey and Josh came into view, while the sounds of Diane and Jim could be heard coming from the kitchen. I attempted to avoid any and all eye contact with my cousin, who with her seemingly magical powers, knew when Lance and I had sex. Maybe she was right--maybe Lance and I were obvious, although we had done our best to camouflage the fact that only a few minutes ago we had been completely naked, rolling around on the bed and doing what people do when they're in that situation. Giving me one last smile, Lance walked into the kitchen, while I decided to remain in the living room. I plopped down on the couch next to Joey, still refusing to meet everyone's suspicious gaze. Keeping my eyes focused on my hands, I found out that my plan wouldn't last very long.

"Hey Stephen..." Joey said, his voice casual as it broke the heavy silence in the room. He watched his friend disappear into the kitchen, before turning his gaze back on me. "What were you two doing up there?" As I looked at him, I noticed the smarmy grin that appeared on his lips, while he attempted to hold back his laughter. I felt my face turn red once more....Oh, Lord...they knew. Slowly, I looked at Josh and Cynthia and the same, bemused knowing expressions was on their faces as well. `We're we really that loud?', I thought as a wave of humiliation swept over me. Or did Cynthia just assume that Lance and I were having a little fun time and decided to take it upon herself to tell Josh and Joey. Whatever it was, all three of them knew what Lance and I had been up to and that made it all the more embarrassing...

Just then Lance walked back into the living room and almost immediately, the watchful gazes that had been rained upon me were now directed at my boyfriend. Lance immediately noticed the fact that three pairs of eyes had been staring at us as though we had sprouted extra arms, and his face immediately took on a deer-in-the-headlights look.

"What?" he asked, not getting why everyone was staring at him as though he had gone insane. "What's wrong?"

In response, Cynthia let out a soft peal of laughter and immediately clamped her hand over her mouth. The laughter was contagious because soon enough, Josh was doubled over from laughing so hard as was Joey. Oh really funny, I thought as my face turned even hotter.

"Uh..." Lance looked around the room, still not sure was was so hilarious to everyone but us. "I just came in here to tell you guys that dinner is ready..." I don't even think the three of them heard Lance, since they were laughing so hard. "Uh, guys? Dinner...is..." Lance's words trailed off, now completely lost in a sea of uncontrollable laughter.

`Oh Lord,' I thought as I pulled myself off the couch and walked over to Lance. Brushing past him, I nudged him gently, trying to get his attention in the most inconspicuous way possible. "Lance...they know...what we did upstairs," I muttered as I passed him by.

Wordlessly, Lance followed me, leaving the laughter behind him. "You mean they know?" Lance asked in horror. "But we were so quiet...."

"Not quiet enough," I said, a soft smile spreading across my face. "But to be honest with you? I really don't care if they know..."

"Yeah," Lance agreed, giving me a happy grin. "Let `em laugh...I don't care...I think they're just jealous they didn't get any. I mean, you have to admit--what we did was pretty exciting, right, Stephen?"

"Right," I agreed, nodding my head firmly as I thought of the sparse intimate time we had just spent. I still felt funny, like I was floating on cloud nine. That sense of post-orgasmic bliss was still coursing throughout my body and not even the jokes and taunts that my cousin showered us with could change that. As I stared into Lance's beautiful, intense eyes, I just felt my heart fill with these strange emotions that I couldn't explain even if you wanted me to. "Yeah, jealous," I laughed, reaching out to give Lance's hand a light squeeze. "I think so too..."

"That's gotta be it," Lance said as the apple's of his cheeks turned a faint, cotton candy pink. "Just thank God that my parents didn't hear, you know."

"Exactly," I said, nodding enthusiastically. "Can you imagine if your poor mother caught us again?"

Lance rolled his eyes and let a small laugh slip out of his mouth. "My mom--that poor woman...she keeps catching us, you know. She has to think that we're completely oversexed, you know? We're always kissing, or doing something suspicious...and your back," Lance added, a mischievous grin appearing on his lips for the hundredth time that day.

"I know, I know," I groaned. "Please don't remind me. My stupid back itches and hurts like crazy. Thanks a lot, Lance," I said dryly.

"Ooh, I'm gonna have to take care of that later on," Lance whispered eagerly as he stepped closer to me and placed a quick kiss on my lips. "Now, what do you say we go into the dining room where my mom and dad are waiting and have some dinner? Who cares about Curly, Larry and Moe in the living room, right? Let `em starve."

It was amazing, I thought as Lance gave me another kiss. Whenever he was around, all of my inhibitions disappeared. My embarrassment faded into happiness and life was perfect...what falling in love could do for you, I thought as Lance and I walked into the dining room, side by side, ready to take on anything that life threw at us.

"Lance be careful," Diane warned as her son threw his suitcase into the back seat of his 4-runner, and then looked at the dusky, red-streaked sky around us. "It's getting dark out...and people drive like idiots on the thruway this time of night." Yeah,' I thought, stifling a sigh. And it's a safe bet to say that Lance is one of them.'

"Don't worry mom," Lance comforted his mother's by giving her a charming grin, while slamming the back door shut. "I'm a good driver..." When I heard those words, I found it was impossible to restrain a snort of laughter. My commentary was rewarded with a dirty look from Lance and a look of anxiety from Diane. Once a mother, always a mother, I thought as I watched the persistent look of concern on her face. Her son might be a multi-millionaire, world famous pop star, but in her eyes he was still her baby boy.

"Oh Lance, I don't like you driving so late at night," she fussed, absentmindedly reaching out to fix a lock of his hair. Lance good naturedly rolled his eyes at her concern, and wrapped her in an assuring hug. I stood back to watch them and couldn't help but be a little envious by their affection. Diane loved her son. She hadn't disowned him like my mom did. Catching my bitter thoughts, I pushed them out of my mind, refusing to be brought down by negativity. I was ready to spend some more time with my boyfriend, we were going to be alone...I don't think I could ask for anything more.

Lance pulled away from his mother, whom I don't think wanted to let go of her son. Patting her shoulder reassuringly, he did his best to comfort her uneasiness. "Mom, it's only seven o' clock--it's not that late--and besides, we have to get going now. I think they want to leave." Lance motioned to where Josh, Joey and Cynthia were waiting. "They're waiting for us to leave." I looked over at the car sitting in front of the Bass's house and noticed the bored, yet antsy look on my cousin's face, while Joey and Josh were discussing something that didn't even interest her. She wanted to get going already. It must have been the Peterson bloodline, I thought with a smile, because to be honest with you, getting out of Mississippi seemed like a great idea to me.

"Okay, okay," Diane smiled at her son's impatience. "I can see that." She paused for a moment, deep in thought, and a funny look passed across her face. "Just...Lance...be careful, okay? Buckle your seat belt, drive the speed limit..." I rolled my eyes at that one, while Lance reached out to hug his mother once more, this time not to comfort her, but to say goodbye.

"Mom, I love ya--don't worry about me," Lance murmured into her hair. "I have Stephen here to keep me in line." Raising his hand and looking over her shoulder, Lance raised his eyebrows at me, hinting at the promise of things to come. Giving her another kiss, Lance and her separated. "I'm sure I'll swing back down soon enough..."

"Okay, Lance...I love you..." Diane said as she watched her son climb into his 4-runner and started the engine up. Giving me a smile, Diane walked me around to the passenger's side and we stood there for a couple of seconds, not sure what to say to each other. We hadn't exchanged many words since last night's incident. I could tell that everytime her eyes looked at me, all she could envision was my state of half-nakedness and the scratches that covered my back. Not the best impression you want to give your mother's boyfriend, especially when the relationship is odd to begin with.

"Well...it was good seeing you again, Stephen," Diane began slowly, while she picked a speck of imaginary lint off my shirt. "You take care of yourself--you're a wonderful person....and you and Lance..." Diane took a deep breath, while she weighed the impact of her next words in her head. "Take care of each other alright?" She did her best to control the waver that her voice had taken on, but I still heard it. And hearing that emotion nearly broke me down inside and a heartfelt smile appeared on my lips. The envy that had coursed through my body only a few seconds ago was now replaced with a mixture of sadness and longing. `What a wonderful woman she is', I thought as I reached out to hug her. I felt the inner sadness threatening to merge into actual tears, but I managed to keep myself composed.

"We will, Diane...thank you. Thank you for everything that you and Jim have done for me," I said as we parted. "I don't think you'll ever know how much I truly appreciate what you've done for Lance and I." As I turned to open the passenger door up, I noticed Lance watching the exchange between his mother and I and I could tell that it had touched him. Giving him a happy grin, I was about to climb into the SUV, when the sound of Diane's voice suddenly stopped me.

"Oh Stephen?" I craned my neck backwards to see her standing there, the soft smile she wore before now replaced by a much more goofy one. As she pulled something out of the pocket of her shorts, Diane took a few steps towards me.

"Yes? Anything wrong?"

Diane's face turned an interesting shade of pink as she shoved a tube of Neosporin into my hands. "Here...it's for your back..." The light pink glow turned to a darker beet red as she did this. "I wouldn't want you getting an infection or anything..."

I stared at the ointment for a couple of seconds, a look of complete disbelief growing on my face. `Oh my Lord,' I thought while wanting to sink into the ground. My embarrassment was soon replaced by gratefulness. She had seen my back, and in a true motherly fashion, worry had overcome her discomfort. That was sweet of her and completely unexpected. But then, my whole life was a ball of unexpectedness. "Thanks Diane," I said with a laugh as I climbed into the seat. "Thanks for thinking of me..."

"No problem," Diane called out as I slammed the door shut. Pulling the car into reverse, Lance gave his mom a final wave, before backing out the driveway. "Bye Lance...call me when you get down there!" She began to wave as we pulled onto the street.

"I will!!" Lance yelled back as he shifted the vehicle's gear into drive. Passing Josh's car, Lance gave him the signal to follow him. Giving his mother one last wave, we took off down the quiet street, finally heading off for the Mississippi highway.

"That was nice of her," Lance remarked as he turned on the radio. Looking up at me, my boyfriend flashed me a somewhat mortified smile. "Little embarrassing, but definitely nice of her. She didn't want you to get an infection...that's my mom--always worrying."

"Yeah," I laughed as leaned forward to throw the ointment into my knapsack. "I think I've said it before, but I'll say it again. Your mom is great."

"I know," Lance grinned as he turned onto the main road that would lead us out of his home state. "Must be the Bass name, I mean--look at how great I am." Looking over at my reaction, he gave me a knowing wink, while I groaned at his response. As we took off down the road, my eyes became glued to the dashboard, as I watched the speedometer began to steadily climb, surpassing number on the roadsign that we had just passed. Grabbing onto the door for support, I settled into my seat and closed my eyes. It was going to be quite a ride...

You would think that by the time eight o'clock at night rolled around, the highways and thruways of Mississippi would be practically empty. Wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The traffic that night was as backed up as a Monday morning during rush hour. Bumper to bumper and headache inducing traffic, the lanes filled with angry motorists who honked horns thinking that would make traffic go faster. That certainly didn't work, I noted as I sat in the passenger seat and watched Lance moved his 4-runner up a millimeters, stopping short of ramming into the car's bumper in front of us.

"What the hell is going on?" Lance asked crankily as he ran a hand through his wayward hair. "I mean, that's why we left at night and not tomorrow morning. I thought that we were supposed to avoid all of this...." I rubbed my throbbing temples while a frustrated Lance pounded his hand on his steering wheel, honking the horn in the process of doing so. In return, the driver of the car in front of us, raised his hand and flipped us off.

"Fuck you," Lance muttered under his breath as he noticed the drivers crude signal. "Like you're the only one who doesn't like traffic back up, right?" Looking over at me, a somewhat agitated smile replaced the angry expression on his face. "Sorry about this Stephen."

"Sorry for what? It's not like you caused all this traffic--or you did and now you just don't want to tell me?" I narrowed my eyes towards him in a mocking fashion, which caused Lance to burst out laughing.

"Yeah, Stephen--I did just that," Lance nodded, motioning his hand to the vehicles around us. "I backed up traffic so that we couldn't get to Florida and so that we could sit in the same spot for the past half-hour....you're so silly sometimes." Another smile punctuated his words as he held down a button on the door's control panel, causing the vehicle's tinted windows to roll up.

"Lance," I said, a bit confused to why he was doing this. "I thought you said your air conditioning was broken and that's why we had to have the windows down....why are you rolling them back up?" He waited until the windows completely his us from the eyes of the other motorists, before turning to face me, an adorably crooked grin on his lips.

"I know...but I don't think that we could do this if we didn't," Lance whispered, moving his face closer to mine. He reached up and traced a faint path from my pounding temples, down my cheekbone and traced around my mouth before meeting my lips in a soft kiss.

"Always thinking, aren't you?" I asked him, a smile looming on my face as I stared into his eyes. "I like that." I leaned over and placed another kiss on his mouth, this time allowing my lips to part, granting access to Lance's tongue. I felt him search around for a few seconds, until the rude, staccato honks of the car in back of us, suddenly jolted Lance and I back to life. He whipped his head up from mine, only to see that a huge gap had formed in front of us. Traffic was moving again and cars from the other lane were swerving wildly in front of us, thankful that Lance and I were two idiots who hadn't noticed the movement. Slamming his foot on the pedal, Lance gunned his 4-runner ahead, only to stop suddenly as the traffic came to a halt once more.

"Oh goddammit," Lance muttered under his breath, reaching for the button to roll the slightly steam covered windows back down. The heavy air of the night met our skin once more and I crankily rested back into my seat, disappointing filling every inch of my bones. Stupid traffic, I thought with disdain. Couldn't they see that Lance and I had been busy?.

We were sat there, choosing to sit in silence, when all of a sudden, the sound of a female screaming caught my attention. Craning my neck backwards, I noticed that a car was flashing it's headlights on and off, on and off. I looked over at Lance with a humored expression.

"Some crazy nut," I laughed, shaking my head. Lance smiled thinly at my remark, and went back to wearily staring at the traffic in front of us. I tried to ignore the screaming, but found it impossible. I turned back around in my seat to see the lane next to us moving forward. Soon that came to a halt and the screaming grew even more shrill and grating. I turned back around in my seat, desperately needing to know who was screaming and what it was all about.

As the lane inched forward, I soon got my answer when the car containing Cynthia, Josh and Joey pulled up next to us. Josh was driving, the expression on his face mirroring that of Lance's--weary and aggravated. It was no fun being the driver in this situation. Joey was stretched out in the back seat. If I didn't know any better, I would have said that he was trying his best to look up my cousin's miniskirt while Cynthia was sticking halfway out of the car's sunroof, a huge grin plastered on her face, flailing her arms wildly.

"Are your guys deaf or something?" she yelled between laughs. "I've been yelling your names for the past fifteen minutes or so back there....Lord, Stevie--what were you two doing in there?" A breeze blew in the air, causing her short red hair to fly around her head in the breeze. For a couple of seconds, I marveled at Cynthia's appearance. At that moment, my cousin looked like a goddess--her slender frame silhouetted in the headlights of other cars, violet eyes glowing with happiness and exhilaration....Cynthia really was like no other girl that I had ever known. However that image of her was shattered as she started to loudly sing, "Lance and Stevie sittin' in their car--K-I-S-S-I-N--"

"Cynthia!" I screamed loud enough so that I would be heard over the engines and honks of other cars. That was all we needed--to be heard out, for someone to see that the driver of the car I was in was none other than Lance of `N Sync--just because Cynthia thought it was funny to tease us. "Stop it!"

"Oh please," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Like anyone knows. It's almost as black as velvet, and I doubt if anyone cares." Another giggle escaped her lips as she tipped her head down to listen to something that Josh was saying. "Oh yeah--what was going on in that car before, Stevie? We saw how you two were holding up traffic....little drivers education going on in there?" Cynthia teased us, a sardonic grin lighting up her face.

I felt my face turn crimson at her suggestive comment. Were Lance and I really becoming that blatantly obvious in our little intimate moments? Her comment was meant to be good-natured and humorous, but part of me had reverted into old Stephen again. The one who stammered and stuttered instead of coming back with a witty, smart remark. Part of the problem was that my mind was more on Lance and not exactly focused in reality. And another part of it was that I just wasn't good at comebacks, no matter how hard I tried.

By the time I finished my little mental soliloquy, Lance had noticed my discomfort and leaned over so that he could yell out the window at Cynthia as well.

"Oh yeah, Cynth--like if Josh wasn't driving the car and Joey wasn't there, you and him wouldn't be having a little drivers education of your own," Lance retorted as he nodded his head to the backseat of their car, giving her a knowing wink.

A charming smile fell on Cynthia's face at Lance's suggestion. "Like a third party watching ever stopped me!" she exclaimed, brushing her short hair back as she fell into the car, promptly wedging her lithe body in between Josh and the steering wheel. I saw Josh look at her with this, `what-the-hell-are-you-doing' look on his chiseled face. Before he even had a chance to say anything, Cynthia firmly placed her mouth on top of his. From his place in the backseat, Joey began to laugh wildly, slapping his thighs until he noticed that the car was rolling forward while the traffic wasn't. Leaning forward, Joey grabbed Josh and started yelling at him--obviously, Cynthia had distracted Josh so much, he had taken his foot off the brake. Abruptly pulling his mouth away from my cousin's, Josh looked in horror as he was about to crash into the bumper of the car in front of him.

As Lance and I watched the events unfold in front of us, we couldn't help but laugh at my cousin's antics. Only she could cause Josh to lose control of the car, I thought as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Cynthia was a trip--even if I wanted to strangle her at times. Untwisting herself from the wedge she had placed herself into, Cynthia popped back out of the sunroof and extended her arms in a flourish of sorts.

"Ta-da!" she yelled as our lane started to move forward. "Told you nothing would ever stop me..." Her voice faded away as Lance moved the car up a few spots, only to be followed by them a few seconds later when their lane moved them up right next to us again. For the next hour or so, our two vehicles were neck and neck with each other and we played the game of volleying insults and jokes back and forth, much to the disgust of the drivers around us. I could see the weary looks on their faces as we shrieked with laughter and had a good time. We had to. What else was there to do instead? Sit there and stare at traffic? Trust Cynthia to turn anything into a party...that girl, I'll tell you--she was amazing at times.

When traffic finally started to pick up and started moving at normal speed, our party ended and the driving marathon began. We passed the tipped over beer truck that had stopped traffic, as cleaning crews were doing it's best to clean up the foamy alcoholic liquid off the pavement.

"Hey!" I exclaimed as we whizzed past the site of the accident. "Lance--stop! Free beer!!" Laughing at my comment, Lance just pressed his foot to the gas, free to pick up speed on the thruway once more. I let out a sigh of disdain, which didn't escape Lance's ears.

"My driving scaring you already?" he teased me as he eased up a little on the gas. "You're such a wuss at times, Stephen."

"Wuss?" I asked in surprise. "I take great offense at your choice of words there Mr. Bass...that's just being mean."

"Oh come on," Lance said, his voice full of amusement as he leaned over and turned on the radio. "You know I love you." He took his eyes very briefly off the road to smile lovingly at me. "You know I do."

"I know, I know--I've just always been a little cautious when I drive, that's all," I explained as we reached the toll booths. Glancing in the side mirrors, I noticed that Josh's car was still behind ours. Still watching them, I noticed a black car swerving in between, rudely cutting off their car, rendering it out of sight as it pulled into the toll booth next to ours. A few seconds later, I noticed that Josh's car pulled into the third one, and a clearly agitated Cynthia was shooting poisonous daggers at the driver of the car next to us. Another one of Cynthia's many peeves are impatient drivers who cut her off. I watched as my cousin's pretty face twisted up into a grimace. I knew what Cynthia was going to do, because she does it whenever it happens to her when she drives. Collecting his change, the man turned to look at the car he had cut off, just in time to catch Cynthia snarling at him. A shocked look crossed her face as the man stared at her with a clearly amused expression on her face, smiling at her before he drove off.

Laughter escaped my lips as I watched Cynthia bury her face in her hands, embarrassed that she had finally been caught. I always told her that one day she would. Before she could look over at our car, Lance hit the gas once again, politely thanking the toll booth collector as we drove off.

"What's so funny?" Lance asked, stealing a quick glance at me, a smile playing on his lips. "Come on, Stephen...share."

"Nothing," I said, swallowing another laugh back as I settled in my seat, watching the scenery fly past us at amazing speeds. "You just had to be there."

Here's a scene You're in the back seat laying down The windows wrap around To sound of the travel and the engine All you hear is time stand still in travel and feel such peace and absolute The stillness still that doesn't end But slowly drifts into sleep The stars are the greatest thing you've ever seen And they're there for you For you alone you are the everything

A couple of hours later, Lance and I were still driving down a practically deserted Alabama highway, save for the few cars that appeared in and out of our sight. We had lost Josh's car a few hundred miles back, but I wasn't particularly worried. The three in that car were adults and they certainly could take care of themselves, I thought as I stared out the window. It was pitch black outside and bright twinkling stars illuminated the night sky. The isolation of where we were was kind of creepy, yet a bit romantic as well. I looked over at Lance, whose face was a little run down looking and then shifted my gaze to the green glowing numbers of the car's clock. 2:07. It was really late. Later than I had thought and I was incredibly tired as well. And by the looks of it, so was Lance.

"Stephen?" Lance asked suddenly, his deep voice almost indiscernible from the silence that filled the car. "Are you tired?" He didn't wait for me to answer before continuing. "Because I am....I'm exhausted..."

"I was just going to ask you that," I said, my eyes still glued to the images that were passing my eyes outside the window. "Wanna find a hotel or something to stay at? I'm sure there are some around here..."

"Yeah, I'm sure there are," Lance agreed as he switched lanes, heading off on one of the exit ramps. "There's gotta be one...I hope," he laughed. "Anyways, what d you think happened to Cynthia and Josh and Joey? They just seemed to disappear, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but their big kids," I said, finally turning to face Lance. "They can handle themselves...I think. Hmmm," I scratched my slightly stubble covered chin. "Cynthia...Joey...wait a sec..I'm wrong. That's not a good combination there."

"Exactly," Lance smiled as he leaned down towards where his cell phone was sitting. "Why don't you give them a call? Just hit star 11--that's the line for Josh's phone." He offered as he handed me the small electronic device. As I took the phone from his hand, I felt Lance's soft skin brush against mine, and a strange spark of excitement rushed through my blood. It was at this touch that Lance took his eyes off the winding highway in front of him to give me an affectionate smile, before turning his attention back to the road. I stared at his silhouetted side view for a moment, my mind preoccupied by thoughts of Lance. Shaking myself out of the daydream, I looked down at the phone in the palm of my hand and punched in the numbers. Gingerly, I held the phone up to my ear, listening to a couple of rings before the other end picked up. A soft, gentle female voice answered it. It sounded like I had waken her up. And the voice certainly didn't belong to Cynthia.

"Hello?" the girl questioned, sounding completely out-of-it. Her voice was lethargic, almost as though she was drunk. "Hello?" she repeated, this time, her voice a bit more demanding.

"Hello?" I asked, more than a little confused by the strange girl at the other end of the line. "Who is this?"

"Who's this?" she shot back, sounding a little haughty now.

I paused for a second, my mind spinning in wonder. What the hell was going on?? I was tired and I certainly didn't need any shit like this in my life. "Look," I said a bit sharply. "Is this the cell phone of JC Chasez???"

Silence greeted my question. "Wait a second..." The girl said, her pretentious tone of voice replaced by confusion once more. "Joey??? Joey???" The following words were a little muffled and I guessed that she had placed her hand over the mouthpiece. "Joey--there's some guy on the phone and he wants to talk to JC..."

"Shit," I heard Joey say. "Amber, give me that..." Amber? "Hello? Who is this?"

"Joey?" I asked in surprise. "Is that you? Where's Josh? And Cynthia? Where's my cousin?" I asked, trying not to sound too demanding. But I was curious. Immediately, I felt my heart begin to race and the mode of worry that had dogged me throughout my life kicked in automatically. Did something happen to my cousin? Or to Josh? I seriously doubted that anything had happened, but hey, you never know....in this day and age, anything goes.

"Stephen?" Joey asked. "Or is this Lance...I can't believe I can't tell you two apart..." He sounded tired and a little drunk. I could hear the girl cooing something to him, and I hoped that Joey knew what was going on when I talked to him.

"It's Stephen," I told him, trying to keep the agitation out of my voice. "And where are you guys? Lance and I are in Alabama--you guys crossed the tolls with us--where are you?"

An embarrassed pause filled the next few seconds of phone time. Tapping my foot, I impatiently waited for some answer. Even Lance grew concerned by the lack of talking that was going on and pulled over to the side of the road. I had no clue where we were now--it seemed like we were in the middle of farm country. Fields of wheat surrounded us. A dilapidated barn sat across the street. The few streetlights that lined the road only gave off so much light and suddenly, I almost expected to be killed by some strange machete welding manic. Perfect, I thought bitterly as I waited for Joey's answer.

"Uh...New Orleans."

"WHAT???" I exclaimed. "New Orleans? What the hell--I mean...how the hell--" I was speechless. How did the three of them wind up even further South in a matter of only a few hours? And what happened to Florida? How did they get off track?

"Stephen, Stephen...calm down,"Joey said, and I could imagine him waving his hands while saying this. "Don't worry--Cynthia and Josh are okay. It's just...Cynthia distracted Josh a little and somehow he got onto the I-49, headed South and before we knew it, we were at the tolls to New Orleans. I thought something was funny when we passed through the tolls an hour later..." Joey paused. "I guess we passed back through Mississippi...I don't know what happened."

"It seems impossible," I argued, rubbing my temples wearily. "Where is my cousin?"

"She's at the Luxury Suites with Josh--the two of them went gambling and left me alone...," Joey said. He sounded a little sad and I thought that was weird. He was usually so happy-go-lucky and funny. Unless he was just drunk or tired--or both.

"Oh wow," I muttered as I looked over at Lance. In the dark, I could tell that his eyes were filled with curiosity and confusion. I could see the questions spinning in his mind--New Orleans? "So who's the chick?"

"Uh...." I could heard Joey's blush over the phone. "I met a girl..her name is Amber--she's a real sweetheart..."

"I bet she is," I said, trying to stifle a yawn. Trust Joey to find a girl right away, I thought, this time giving into the yawn. "Well, Joey--whenever you see Cynthia and Josh, tell them to meet us at--" I looked over at my boyfriend, who was still watching me with an intent, forest eyed gaze. I marveled at the way his eyes changed color in different shades of light and dark. Now his eyes looked almost black with concern... "Lance's house?" I looked at him questioningly and he nodded.

"Okay man," Joey said, and I could hear Amber talking to him. "I gotta go now, okay? Talk to you later, Stephen and tell Lance I said `hi'."

"Okay, Jo--" But before I could finish my sentence, Joey had hung up the phone. Obviously Amber was a much more important priority than Lance and I, and to be honest, who could blame him? If I were straight, a hot chick would be much more important to me that my friend and his boyfriend.

But I had Lance, I thought as I mentally took in his features. He was beautiful...almost perfect. Sure he had his imperfections, but that was part of what made him so appealing to me. And he was all mine. I didn't care where we were, as long as Lance and I were together. I hoped that he felt that same way...

"Stephen?" Lance asked quietly as I shut the phone off. "What's going on? Where are they?" Sighing, I relayed my newfound information to him, which to my surprise, caused Lance to laugh.

"Only they could do that," Lance sniggered under his breath, looking down at his lap before meeting my eyes once more. A happy, intoxicated look had filled the pupils of his eyes and a smile played around the corner of them. "Hey, wanna get out for a few seconds and stretch out our legs? I know mine are cramping up terribly." Leaning over, Lance rubbed his calves for a few seconds before looking back up at me with a pitifully sad expression on his face. Smiling, I nodded and opened up my car door, jumping out of the SUV. It felt good to have my feet on the ground, I thought as I met Lance on his side of the vehicle. Getting out of his side, Lance stretched his arms out, allowing his t-shirt to lift up ever so slightly, exposing part of his stomach as he did this.

"Hey," I laughed, poking his somewhat pale middle. "Indecent exposure there..."

"Oh please, Stephen," Lance rolled his eyes at me, before giving me a toothy grin. "What were you looking there for then? Huh?" Unable to come up with a good response, I just allowed my feelings to take over my body as I pushed Lance against his 4-Runner and placed my mouth frantically on top of his. I felt his arms wrap around me, as we stood there in the pitch black darkness, kissing for what seemed like forever. I just wanted him...and not even in a sexual way. I just wanted a kiss--was that too much to ask, I thought as I gently explored his mouth. I could feel his breath against my skin, the raspy breaths that left his throat, as they punctuated the air between us. Every kiss was magical and special. I liked kissing Lance...I liked it a lot.

Suddenly, Lance pulled away from me, his eyes sparkling while he looked me over. "Stephen...come here," he whispered, his eyelids drooping a little as he motioned me closer to him. "Come on..." He opened the back door of the 4-runner and climbed in, with me following very closely behind. I shut the door behind me and locked it, and before I knew it, Lance practically attacked me before I had a chance to even get myself comfortable.

"Ever do it in the backseat of a car?" Lance whispered in between kisses, before pulling away from me, a very naughty glint in his eyes while he said this. "Because I never have."

"You're terrible," I breathed as Lance shifted himself on top of my body, moving lower and lower, lifting my shirt and placing sweet, passionate kisses on my stomach. "Just terrible." He looked up at me then, concerned by the reprimanding tone my voice had taken on, his green eyes wide with apprehension. I reached down and ran my fingers through his hair, letting them linger there for a moment. "I didn't say stop, did I?" I asked teasingly. With a relieved laugh, Lance began to kiss my stomach once more, trailing lower and lower, his kisses turning into slow sucks as he pulled off the layers of cloth that separated him from what he sought out. The night was a good concealer of things that shouldn't be seen by prying eyes, I managed to think as Lance tugged my pants lower until they were bunched around my ankles. His mouth worked itself over me, torturing me through the feelings of pleasure and pain. I closed my eyes, letting my body relax in the moment, while Lance's hands trailed down my thighs. Seconds later, I felt my nails dig into the soft velour covering of the seats as my mind exploded into an array of dizzying colors. I think I let out a strangled cry. I'm not sure what happened to me at that moment, but whatever happened, Lance was responsible for it.

Lance had done what he needed to, taken what his body sought out, which left me panting and gasping in slight exhaustion. I looked down at him, a look of contentment in his eyes. A sleepy smile formed on those beautiful lips of his, shiny from saliva and other things. I lay there, unable to move my limbs, as Lance crawled back up to me, and placed a single, solitary kiss on my lips.

"How was it?" Lance asked serenely, as he kissed me once more, reaching up to wipe a lock of damp hair out of my eyes. "Did you like?" Did I like? Was he insane?

"Sweetie? That was a stupid question," I laughed as I pulled him closer to me. "Stupid, but cute..." Resting his head on my chest for a few seconds, I allowed my thoughts to meld into absolute nothingness as we lay there. My mind tuned out the crickets chirping and the rustling of leaves that blew in the slight, hot Alabama breeze. It was weird. Here we were in the middle of nowhere, in the backseat of Lance's car, holding each other. Weird? Yes. Romantic? Definitely.

As we lay there, I noticed that I could hear Lance breathing. I stared at his face in the dark shadows of the moon for a couple of seconds. His eyes were closed, and his lips were curved upwards just a little. He looked like an angel, I thought...a very bad angel, but an angel nonetheless. He must have felt my gaze burning into him, because Lance's eyelids flew open just then, staring at me with a quizzical look.

"What?" he asked defensively, like I had accused him of something. "What did I do?"

"What didn't you do?" I asked lightly, letting him know that everything was alright. I moved closer to his face, and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. "What brought on the sudden display of affection?"

Lance shrugged his shoulders and gave me another angelic grin. "I don't know...lately, Stephen..." His face colored slightly as the thoughts flew through his mind. "I've just been so...so..."

"Horny?" I interjected, trying not to laugh. Lance nodded, looking a little ashamed by his admittance of his true feelings.

"Yeah...I guess that's the best word for it...I just...want you so much, Stephen. It's almost embarrassing." He raised himself out of my arms just then and pulled himself into a kneeling position, steadying his hands on the driver's seat. "You're all I think about lately, Stephen--not that I never think about you, or anything. It's just that all I think about is...you. Sex." He stopped himself, and bit his lip before continuing. "You know? Am I making sense here?"

"Yup," I nodded. "Lots of sense. Because I feel the same way. You're my everything lately, Lance." I shook my head. "I know how tacky this sounds, but when I wake up..." My voice dropped to a whisper, not wanting to reveal my feelings to the person that they centered around. "You're the first thing on my mind. I can't help it..."

Lance smiled at me and ran a finger under my chin. "Nope, doesn't sound tacky at all...in fact..." I sat up then, pulling up my pants and also allowing the two of us to sit side by side on the backseat. "Lately...I can't even remember what my life was like before I met you. I mean...I was in `N Sync...I still am, but Stephen..." His green eyes burned intently into mine, turning darker as the seconds ticked by. "I don't know if I still want to be."

I felt a sense of dread fill my stomach just then. What was he saying? "Lance...." I trailed off, not sure what to say next. But he cut me off before I could continue.

"I'm not sure if I still want in the band...you know?"

"No, I don't know," I said angrily, praying that he really wasn't saying these words. "What are you talking about?"

"Look, Stephen," Lance said, slamming his hand on the seat between us. "I'm on vacation now and you know what? I can see how great it is to not have any responsibilities, not to worry about getting to an arena on time for a concert or talking with a reporter from some teeny magazine...I like being with you."

I took a deep breath, a little offset by the words that had just left Lance's mouth. Where had this come from? Five minutes ago, Lance was making me the happiest man in Alabama, if not the world. And now, he was talking about quitting the band...the thing that had allowed me to meet him in the first place. The thing he loved doing--his career...this was crazy.

"I like being with you too, Lance," I said, my words soft as I intertwined my fingers with his. "You know I do... but quit `N Sync? Is that what your saying?" The silence spoke louder than any other words could and I took it as a yes. Breaking the frozen stare between us, Lance looked down into his lap, as he meekly nodded his head up and down.

"You can't do that and you know it," I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. I sounded much more calm than I felt inside. Oh Lord, Lance was going to quit N Sync just because of me. I needed to convince him not to... "You know you can't quit N Sync, Lance...then the rest of the guys would have to change their name to just Sync." That managed to get a laugh out of him, but soon enough, Lance just grew silent once more.

"I know," Lance finally sighed. "I guess I just had a moment of insanity there...I've just grown so accustomed to being with you and I know--I know--once September rolls back around, our schedules are going to be crazy. We're gonna be lucky to see each other once every nine months..." He let out another forlorn sigh and the expression in his eyes and on his face was so sad, I just wanted to hug him, to let him know that everything was going to be alright. So I did.

"Lance," I murmured into the soft skin in the crook of his neck, causing his body to shiver in my arms. "Don't worry about the future...just think about now...We're gonna be fine." Judging from the elated smile on his lips, I knew I had reassured Lance.

"Thanks, Stephen," Lance whispered as he adjusted his body, so that he sat in my lap. "You always know the perfect thing to say, don't you?"

"Me?" I asked in surprise, pointing to my chest. "I always thought you were the one who made me feel better."

It was Lance's turn to be caught off guard. "I make you feel better? When?" Rolling my eyes in expasaration, I brushed my lips against his forehead, before moving to the tip of his narrow nose and finally his lips.

"Lots of times," I murmured against his lips, looking deep into his eyes while I spoke. "You've been there so much for me in these past two months, I don't know how to even begin..." Slowly, I slid my hands under his shirt, running my fingers over the muscles in his back before moving downwards again. My touches weren't ones of desire, but instead more of an attempt to channel my feelings to Lance--to let him know how much I appreciated him and that I just didn't think of him as an outlet for my sexual urges.

In the dark, I watched as Lance's eyes slowly moved over my face, slowly drinking in my features, reducing my insides to nothing but mush. Depending on his mood, there were times where Lance could look so much older than his 21 years, eyes filled with wisdom and worldly knowledge. There were those times when he looked his age, ready to go out and party with the best of them. And then there were the times when Lance just looked so vulnerable and innocent...like he would break if you said the wrong thing to him. I had tapped into one of those moments and I didn't want it to ever end.

"You wanna go now?" Lance whispered, breaking the silence inside the car. "Or do you just wanna stay here for a few more minutes--I don't really care...whatever."

"How about a few more minutes?" I asked softly, hoping that Lance would say yes. I liked it here. It was peaceful. Silent. Special. I had chalked up so many moments like this with Lance, that you'd think it would be hard to distinguish one from the other. But it wasn't. Each one held a special significance in my heart. I could file this one under that category. As he peered into my eyes, staring into the depths of my soul, Lance just nodded and pulled me closer to him. I leaned my head against his chest, ears tuned to the gentle thumping of his heart. Listening to the slight breaths that escaped his lips...and we sat there, entwined in each other's arms, content to stay that way, I think, forever.

Lance and I finally arrived at some second rate, run down motel an hour or so later. It was late and both of us were extremely tired. Granted, an impromptu stop on the side of the road wasn't in the plan, but neither was a trip to New Orleans and Josh, Cynthia and Joey found that they could fit that change of schedule into theirs.

Driving up and down a strip of hotels and restaurants, Lance and I decided on the cleanest looking motel, a little place called The Green Light Inn. To me, it sounded like the name of some lame porno film from the seventies, but who really cared? All I wanted was clean sheets and a place to rest my head. So did Lance.

"Bet those fancy hotels and room service are looking pretty sweet now," I quipped as I got out of Lance's 4-runner. Flashing me a fatigued grin, Lance had enough strength to only nod his head.

"Yup...I can't say I disagree with that one," he quipped, slamming his door shut before opening the back door. Grabbing our knapsacks out of the backseat and locking the doors, Lance and I then made our way to the brick building marked with a flickering neon sign, reading: "Manager--see me for service."

"I can't wait to get to sleep," I sighed wistfully as I flung my knapsack over my shoulder. "I'm exhausted..."

"There you go again with the sleep," Lance laughed as we crossed the half-empty, brightly illuminated parking lot. "Always sleeping--what if I don't feel like sleeping--what if I feel like doing something else?" He arched an eyebrow suggestively at me, causing me to let out a mock groan.

"And I thought you were tired," I bantered, letting a slight laugh leave my throat. "If I'm not mistaken, you wanted to get some sleep too, right?" Lance shook his head with such determination, his blonde spikes moved.

"Hey, I think I just caught my second wind," Lance smiled, as he stepped closer to me. "What can I say?"

"Yeah, yeah--I know I need to get some sleep," I said as we approached the manager's office. "I love my sleep."

"Oh you can sleep," Lance began, seriousness filling his voice. But then he couldn't his poker face any longer, and a devilish grin broke out on his lips. "Right after I get you in that room and finish off what I started in the car before."

"Ugh...Lance...don't you ever stop thinking about the dirty stuff?" Though I tried to act as disinterested as possible, my ears (as well as something else) perked up at hearing Lance's provocative words.

"Honestly?" Lance asked as quickly bumped his hips into mine, causing me to nearly fall over. "Nope--not as long as your around me, I don't. In fact, Stephen--I'd say you inspire me to think about even more dirty things--so in all honestly, my thoughts are completely your fault." Laughing once more at his words, the two of us stepped onto the sidewalk and entered the motel's office. The man on duty was fast asleep, his feet propped up on the desk in front of him. His head was tilted back while a thin line of drool seeped from the corner of his mouth, onto his dirty beige shirt. Lance and I looked at each other and I managed to restrain myself from rolling my eyes at him. In all honesty, the sight that had unfolded in front of Lance and I, was reminiscent of some old B-movie scene that had been long forgotten. This place was giving me the creeps and any second, I expected a cockroach to crawl over my shoes. Not able to hold his patience any longer, Lance reached out and tapped the dull silver bell that sat on the desk.

"Excuse me?" Lance called out when the `ding' didn't wake the man up. "Sir? Excuse me, sir?" Lance's words finally woke the clerk to life, knocking a pile of messy, haphazard papers off his desk in the process.

"Yes? Um....yes...I wasn't sleeping..." the manager announced groggily, as the papers fell to the floor with a gentle crash. "How can I help you gentlemen tonight?" Picking up a pen, the manager made a pitiful attempt at looking formal, but to be honest, it wasn't working. He still looked like a sleeping schlub, with nothing better to do with his life than work the graveyard shift some low-cost motel.

"We'd like a room, please," Lance told the manger. He pulled his black leather wallet out of the back of his pants and opened it up, fingering the green bills inside of it. "Whatever you have available--we'll take it." The manager's steely gray eyes examined us warily for a second, as though we we're two punk kids who were shitting around with him. Finally he reached for his dog-eared notebook (Ooh, a notebook--now we're talking real technology), flipped open to a specific section and reached for a pen.

"Two singles?" The manger asked Lance as he began to jot down the date. Lance was silent for a second, thinking to himself, before answering him.

"Um, no..." Lance corrected, clearing his throat. "One room. A regular--double bed." Hearing Lance's request, the man sitting before us stopped writing and gave both of us a strange, suspicious look.

"Double room? Double bed?" he repeated as though he heard wrong. "For you two?" He pointed his pen first at me and then at Lance, the dumbfounded look on his face turning into a slightly entertained one as he realized that two guys wanted to sleep in the same bed together.

"Yes," Lance answered a little testily, and I noticed that his hands at his side, were clenched into tight fists, his knuckles turning white with anger. I had rarely seen Lance become furious unless something really bothered him. This was definitely one of those incidents. Holding the managers gaze, Lance continued to stare at him with a challenging gaze until the manager finally backed down.

"Alright..." he sighed, shaking his head as he ran a finger down the listings in his notebook. "I've got room thirty-five open...that's a regular room, double bed..." He spit the word out as though it were poison, before spinning around in his chair to grab for the room key

"That'll be fifty dollars," he told Lance as he handed him the keys. Pulling the money out of his wallet, Lance politely handed the money to him. In return, the manager tossed the keys at Lance and without even a thank you' or have a nice night', he repropped his feet on the desk and shut his eyes. I looked over at Lance and found that his mouth was as agape as mine. Without a word spoken between us, Lance spun on his heel and briskly walked out of the office. As I turned to follow him, I could have sworn I heard the clerk mutter some choice, derogatory words about Lance and I under his breath. I felt my blood boil at his ignorance, but didn't bother to make a big deal about it. That would just make our circumstances even worse and right now, I didn't need that.

I walked out of the office and noticed that Lance was a good distance ahead of me. His steps were brisk and angry, the keys jangling as they swung from his hand, while he strode towards our room for the night.

"Hey Lance," I called out, as I ran to catch up with him. "Wait for me..." Finally catching up with my boyfriend, I grabbed onto his shoulder, trying to stop him "What's wrong? Lance?"

"Stephen, not now," Lance muttered, shaking my grasp off of him. He continued to walk towards the motel room with the brass numbers, thirty-five, tacked onto the door. Placing the key in the lock, Lance ferociously opened the door up, nearly tearing it off it's hinges. I stood back, watching as he walked into the surprisingly clean room and fell onto the bed, rubbing his tired eyes. I was unaccustomed to Lance's bitter demeanor...especially when I hadn't done anything to him. I hate when people take their anger out on an innocent bystander and I didn't care if Lance was my boyfriend. He was no different. I didn't say anything though--I didn't want to agitate Lance even more than he was already.

Passing Lance by, I dropped my knapsack next to the bed and headed towards the bathroom. I did my business, washed my hands and splashed a little cold water on my face. I stared at myself in the mirror for a couple of seconds. I looked tired. I looked sleepy and ready to drop dead any second. Oh well...Taking a deep breath, I shrugged my shoulders before heading back out to where Lance was probably still throwing a fit.

But to my surprise, Lance was calmly lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He must have flipped on the nightstand lights next to the bed while I was gone, because the room was filled with a a soft, almost iridescent glow. Upon hearing my footsteps, Lance looked back up at me, a calm smile on his face.

"You okay now?" I questioned as I took a seat next to him on the soft, fluffy bed. Lance pulled himself up, scooting his hips closer to mine. I lifted my hand up and ruffled my fingers through his blonde hair, causing an even wider smile to break out on his lips.

"I'm good..." Lance sighed, placing his face in his hands before looking at me once more. "Sorry I got all mad at you back there, Stephen," Lance apologized. "I really am. I just got angry that's all."

"I know," I said quietly, as I took one of Lance's hands into my own. Lifting it to my lips, I placed a soft kiss on each of his knuckles, causing him to close his eyes in enjoyment. "It's okay."

"Eh...it's not." Opening his eyes, Lance cocked his head to the side, looking deep in thought, while I massaged his palm with my thumb. "Maybe I've been spoiled...you know? I mean, we've been together for the past two months and no one's ever really harassed us like that--not that the guy really did, but...Jesus, he made me feel like a freak." Meeting my gaze once more, Lance gave me a soft smile, causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle up. "You handled it pretty well, though...didn't even say a word."

"Life's to short to argue over crap," I said philosophically. "The way I looked at it, we got our room, we're together and that's all that matters, right?" My gentle touches turned heavier as I allowed my hand to work up his arm. He closed his eyes once more, this time letting a gentle moan translate what he felt inside of him.

"You're right," he whispered, before his eyes flew open again. "You're so right..." Moving his body even closer to mine so that he was practically sitting in my lap, Lance hooked his leg over mine. "Stephen...I love you. You're so smart, you know that?" He asked before placing a passionate kiss on my lips. A spark went off in my heart, and I suddenly felt my pants grow a little bit tighter. He was doing it to me again...

"I guess so...I mean, I'll agree with anything if you kiss me like that again," I laughed after we parted.

"Rea-lly?" he asked slowly, drawing out the word leisurely. He shifted his body fully in my lap and then maneuvered his legs so that he wound up straddling my waist. "Well then, how sexy do you find me at this moment?"

A hot fire of lust swept throughout every inch of my body as those words left his mouth. Sexy? Lance? Those two words went together like peanut butter and jelly. "Do I really have to answer that?" I whispered as Lance knocked me backwards on the bed, running his hands under my shirt. I felt my hips involuntarily thrust into his as the pads of Lance's fingertips came into contact with my hardening nipples.

"Yes," Lance breathed while placing a trail of kisses down my neck. "You have to answer it--in fact, that's an order, Stephen. I'm not gonna do anything else if you don't answer me. " A cocky grin spread across his lips as he observed the furious blush that crept across my face.

"Ooh, an order," I sighed. The weight of Lance's body on mine felt comforting and I found myself becoming more and more aroused as the seconds ticked by. "I like the sound of that...well, Lansten..." I closed my eyes as Lance began to place soft kisses along my collar bone. "I find you incredibly sexy, but..." He looked up at me, frantic worry in his eyes at my warning tone of voice.

"But what?" he asked panic-stricken. "What? Tell me? You don't find me sexy? Or you find someone else even sexier?" I was enjoying the look of dread and anxiety that had appeared on his face. Pulling his anguish out as long as I could, I finally saw fit to give him a teasing grin.

"But Lance...if you ever ask such a stupid question like that again, I'm going to have to give you a spanking, you know that." His face lit up at my ultimatum, and a soft laugh escaped his throat.

"Oh Lord, Stephen," Lance whispered as he began to nuzzle my ear with his lips. "Forget it. If that's my punishment, I'm asking you as many stupid questions as I can." He looked up at me once more, while his fingers began to undo the button on my pants, his eyes turning emerald with lust.

"Well then," I began, my voice full of mischief as I suddenly needed to feel Lance's naked body pressed against to mine. Slipping my hands up his shirt, I caressed the small of his back, before sliding my hands down the waistband of his loose jeans. I gently raked my nails over the delicate flesh of his behind, causing a small moan to fall from his lips. Placing his mouth over mine once more, I managed to mumble the rest of my sentence. "Let's get started, Lance....ask away." And as Lance's mouth covered mine once more, I knew that I wouldn't have to say another word for the rest of the night.

I was jolted out of my sleep, feeling as though someone had electrocuted me. I looked over at the clock that sat bolted down to the nightstand. Nine A.M. Reaching up to wipe the sleepiness out of my eyes, my fingertips suddenly came into contact with a light wetness. I was confused. Why were my fingertips wet, I asked myself groggily. Lance's head was resting on my chest, so he hadn't drooled on my face. I peered at the ceiling and found that the tiles weren't leaking...

And then I realized what the mysterious wetness was: I was crying. I had waken myself up because I was crying. The tears were uncontrollably streaming down my face. I sat up with very suddenly, knocking Lance's head off of my chest and back onto the sheets. I had dreamt about something so horrible and so sad, my subconscious decided to tell me by allowing me to cry.

As Lance's head hit the bed, he instantly woke up and pulled his body into a sitting position. Reaching up to scratch his wayward hair, the expression on his face was full of confusion and worry as he watched me frantically examine our motel room.

"Stephen...Stephen, what's wrong--you're not having one of your attacks again, are you?" he questioned urgently as his eyes took in my tear streaked face. I didn't bother to answer him, and instead chose to wave him away, swinging my legs off the side of the bed and I buried my face into my hands.

"Stephen?" Lance asked and I felt his fingertips run across my back, trying to calm me down a little. It didn't work. "What's wrong? Tell me, please?" Lance begged. I could feel his gaze burning into the space between my shoulder blades, as he watched me get off the bed and anxiously began to search the floor for my boxer shorts. I didn't want to be naked anymore. I felt extremely vulnerable at that moment and my nudity only added to that uncomfortable feeling. Within seconds, I had dressed myself, while a confused Lance continued to shoot curious questions at me. Questions that I refused to answer. I had to gather my thoughts and while I attempted to do this, fragments of my dream began to enter my mind at lightening speed.

There had been blood. Lots of Blood. More tears rolled down my face as I placed my hand on the cool doorknob, turned it and stepped outside. The sun was beating down an immense, almost burning heat that bounced off the pavement of the parking lot. The tears on my face began to dry, but I wasn't finding the relief that I sought so much. More images from my dream began to haunt my mind. More blood. My mother. What was happening to me? I felt sick to my stomach. Nauseous. I continued taking blind steps across the parking lot, until I felt someone's arm cover my own. I looked over to see Lance standing there, holding on to his pants so that they wouldn't fall off his hips. He was breathless from chasing me and the look of worry on his face was so evident, my heart wanted to break into half.

"Stephen...where are you going? What's wrong?" Lance cried out, his hand on my arm so that I would stop walking away from him. Quickly he buttoned up his pants and then placed his hands on my shoulders and stared directly into my eyes, trying to read my actions."Why did you leave so suddenly? Why were you crying?" All these questions, I thought as I stopped short of rolling my eyes at him. Lance's face was twisted up into the exact definition of worry and I didn't want to see him like this anymore. So I decided to spill it. He'd find out eventually, right?

"I had a stupid dream," I muttered, sticking my hands deep into the pockets of my pants. "You don't want to hear about it...I had a stupid dream and it made me cry. Happy?" Lance's eyes filled with panic when he heard my shoddy explanation. He ran a hand down my arm and took my hand in his.

"Tell me...please?" Lance pleaded, his eyes filled with a tenderness that I had never seen before. "Please??"

Another sigh escaped my lips. "Okay," I heard myself agree and Lance and I began to walk back to our motel room. My footsteps sounded heavier and heavier with every step I took and I focused on the shadows that Lance and I costed on the ground in front of us. For some perverse reason, I was intrigued by the simple shapes, concentrating on them with such an intensity, I would have nearly bumped into the door if Lance hadn't caught me in time.

"Stephen...the door..." Lance's deep voice floated into my mind as the wooden barrier came into eye shot. Shooting him a grateful look, I opened it up and made an immediate beeline for the bed, and fell onto it with a flop. Shutting the door behind him, Lance stood over the bed and for the next few seconds, he examined my body lying there, before falling next to me as well. I stared at the dirty white ceiling for a couple of seconds, before turning my head sideways, only to see Lance watching me, waiting for me to speak. Part of my froze and I suddenly felt the need for comfort. Reaching out, I extended my hand towards his and once I felt his soft fingers close around mine, I let out a breath I didn't even know I had pent up inside of me. Finally, I opened my mouth and the words just seemed to fall out on their own.

"I had a dream about my mother."

The caring expression on Lance's face changed to one of shock and I watched as his eyebrows nearly shot clear off his forehead. But he didn't say a word and instead, gave me a gentle nod of his head, urging me to continue on with my story. I felt his fingers tighten around mine, as though he was trying to mentally tell me, `I'm here for you.' Another wave of comfort overtook my body and I sunk deeper into the fluffy mattress.

"She was yelling at me," I continued, my voice monotonous and void of any emotion whatsoever. "...and her wrists were cut open....she was bleeding and she was standing in front of me and there was nothing I could do..." I closed my eyes and saw the horrible image of my mother standing before me. I saw the blood dripping down my her arms, onto the white flowing gown that she was wearing and the tears began to form in my eyes once more.

"It was horrible," I said opening my eyes so I wouldn't see her anymore. I turned onto my side, away from Lance, breaking my grasp from his hand. My knees met my chest as I curled up into a fetal position. "I couldn't do anything about it...I just stood there and watched her bleed. And she kept yelling at me...that it was my fault she had killed herself. She told me that if I would have been normal, she wouldn't have killed herself and Natalie would have a mother..." My words trailed off as my voice broke off into uncontrollable sobbing. It hadn't been fair. The dream hadn't been fair to me. I felt Lance place a hand on my back, as he began to stoke up and down, in an attempt to soothe my guilt racked body. Why had I dreamt about her? Was she trying to send me a message from beyond the grave or were the thoughts I pushed out of my mind, simply reentering my subconcious in dream form?

"Stephen..." Hearing the sheets rustle, I felt as Lance moved his body closer to mine. His arms embraced my waist, and the lower half of his body pressed against my backside. He hooked one of his legs over both of mine and I felt his hand slip underneath my t-shirt, his fingers gently stroking my stomach.

"You still feel guilty, don't you? No matter what we've talked about....you still feel like it's your fault, don't you?" Lance whispered into my ear, nudging my earlobe with the tip of his nose. As usual, Lance's analysis was right on the money. Nodding, I let out a sad sigh, just wanting some closure to my whole ordeal. Was that too much to ask?

"Yeah," I agreed, aware that Lance's lips were slowly trailing down my neck, racking shivers down my spine. "I still think it's my fault. I just can't get that idea out of my mind, Lance." I paused, not sure what I wanted to say next. "I want to--you don't know how much I want to and I still can't..."

"It's gonna take some time," Lance whispered wisely. "It's not gonna disappear overnight, sweetie....even though we both want it to. And you know that I'm always here for you." There was a lapse in his words, as he brought his hand out from under my shirt and began to slide it up and down my arm. "Please don't hide anything from me, Stephen...you know I'm gonna get it out of you somehow, someway." His voice turned light at the end of that sentence, and I knew that he was trying to get me to smile. Well, it worked. I found my lips curving upwards as I began to turn my body around so I could face my boyfriend, instead of the dull and boring wall.

"I know. Thank you." Once I was facing him again, I noticed those light green eyes intently searching my face, checking to see if I was truly okay. I was. And to tell you the truth, I felt one hundred percent better since Lance had forced me to talk. But a small part of my mind nagged at me. It wasn't right for me to put Lance through all of my personal shit, it really wasn't. But...he was here for me. And I was eternally grateful for that. We had made a promise to take care of each other, and here we were, fulfilling it right at that moment. There was something wonderful about keeping a promise like that. I felt secure and safe...funny how one person could do all of that for you, isn't it?

"Thank you, Lance," I repeated as I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I'm just sorry that I woke you up like that. I mean wouldn't it have been nicer to wake up like this?" And with those words, I allowed my lips to meet his. "Morning, by the way."

"Nice," Lance commented after we parted. "Better than nice, in fact." A cozy smile appeared on his face as he snuggled closer to me. "Good morning to you Stephen--and let me tell you--I was planning to wake you up this morning--and it was not with a good morning kiss." He arched an eyebrow suggestively, as he said this, causing me let out a genuine laugh, although I will tell you, once I heard that little plan, I was truly disappointed.

"Stupid mind," I murmured under my breath. "Figures. A nice wake up call and I have a stupid dream that ruins it for me." One of my infamous sick thoughts ran rampant through my mind. "Hey maybe my mom really is trying to communicate with me," I chuckled. "She knew what you were up to and she wanted to stop it."

Lance smiled at my theory, staring into my eyes as he reached up and stroked his fingers through my hair. "Oh well...you know the old saying though--no time like the present..." I felt his free hand move lower, his fingers grasping hold of the zipper that opened up my pants. I felt as his fingers drew the metal lower, allowing his hand to slowly work its way inside of my pants. Moving his lips to mine, I felt as though our bodies became magnetically drawn to each other. Wordlessly, I allowed my hands slide up his shirt, touching his warm, silky flesh. I felt his hand wrap around a certain part of my body, causing me to shut my eyes in anticipation. Lips parting, a strangled moan flew out of my throat as my hips began to thrust forward.

"Stephen," Lance whispered huskily, as he began to slide his hand up and down my erection. "Do you know how gorgeous you look right now?" Placing another kiss on my lips, Lance began to quickly move his hand, applying a firmer pressure as he did so. The excitement began shooting through my body...and then wouldn't you know it, his cell phone rings.

Abruptly, Lance stopped moving his hand and my eyes flew open, only to see a look of pure torture appear on his face. "God damn it," he swore as I felt his hand leave my body. "I can bet you that it's either your pain in the ass cousin, or my pain in the ass friends calling me." Lance muttered as he slid out of our bed and walked over to his knapsack. Poking around in it for a few seconds, Lance grumbled some unintelligible words to himself until he found the still-ringing device and switched it on.

"Yeah?" he barked into the mouthpiece, his ferocious nature taking me completely by surprise. I guess he had really wanted to make me happy...I continued to watch as Lance listened intently to the voice on the other line. A look of disbelief crossed his face and without saying a word, he walked over to the motel window and parted the curtains.

"I can't believe them..." Lance moaned as he slapped a hand to his forehead. Turning back to face me, an aggravated, yet amused smile flashed across his face. "Stephen..come over here...look..." Curiously, I rose from my place off the bed and joined Lance at the window. Parked in front of our room were Josh, Cynthia and Joey, all three of them waving at the two of us. Cynthia had donned a pair of oversized sunglasses to mask her eyes, but they didn't prevent me from knowing that she was completely hungover. And while were on the subject of hangovers, I'll add here that neither Josh nor Joey looked too hot themselves. Closing the curtains, I helplessly looked at Lance, who just shrugged his shoulders in response.

Not able to move, I shook my head in disbelief. What are they doing here', I thought angrily as Lance passed the cell phone to me. Boy oh boy, did I have some choice words for Cynthia. The first thing I was going to do is tell her off, I said to myself. I'm going to ask her why she keeps showing up at the most inappropriate times. Then I'm gonna tell her to bug off and leave Lance and I alone.'

"Hello?"

"Stevie?" My cousin's voice crackled through the static connection of the phone. "Is that you? Geez, I'm really sorry that we kinda got lost from you two last night...." Cynthia apologized, her voice slightly garbled from exhaustion. "Josh took a wrong exit--"

"Your fault," I heard Josh snap, sounding like he just wanted to be buried six feet under.

"Oh shut up," Cynthia shot back. "Just because you're a lousy driver, who doesn't know where we're going--anyways Stevie," she continued on without missing a beat. "Josh and I found a casino and decided to go gambling. I won two hundred dollars on slots," she said proudly. A thought stuck me then--Cynthia was only 20--the legal age to gamble is 21...

"Wait a sec, you're not old enough to gamble--unless they were having teen night," I said sarcastically. Cynthia just chuckled at my comment and in my mind's eye I could just see her rolling her eyes at me.

"Wouldn't you know, Stevie, dating a member of one of the world's best known bands gets you into a lot of places that you shouldn't be in," she explained sweetly. "Anyways, we hit the casino and then checked into this really swanky hotel....and then when we woke up this morning, we realized that we lost you and Lance, so--" She took a much needed breath and then continued on "--we drove like maniacs to get here. That's our story--what's yours and Lancey's, hmmm? Is it suitable for virgin ears like mine?"

"Virgin ears," I snorted. "Yeah, right--the trailer trash queen herself." My words had come out much harsher than I had intended them to, but I couldn't help it. Why had they followed Lance and I here? Why couldn't they have enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at the hotel instead? Why couldn't anyone find it in their hearts to leave Lance and I alone? "How'd you know where Lance and I were staying at?" I asked, not bothering to apologize for my slightly rude behavior.

"Oh, we kinda ran a search on your cell phone. Joey's girlfriend knows someone who can track down cell phones--it's a complicated story." Cynthia explained, her voice filled with a surprising amount of disgust once she mentioned Amber. "Oh, who am I kidding? Girlfriend? One night stand I should say..."

"Hey!" I heard Joey's voice cut into the conversation. "Cynthia stop it already! She was not a one-night-stand! She was...nice...." I heard Joey defend himself pitifully, but he was no match for Cynthia, who was already spouting her opinion on groupies.

"Well, what would you call her?" Cynthia shot back as she placed her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. "Easy lay? Quick fu--"

"Cynthia?!" I called into the phone, wanting to end this odd conversation right now. "Look, are you three gonna sit outside and duke it out while Lance and I get ready?" She didn't even hear me, as she was too busy screaming at Joey. Rubbing my temples, I looked over at Lance who was staring at me with a sad look on his face. The conversation that Cynthia and Joey were having came through the cell phone loud and clear, but I didn't care. All I wanted was to be alone with Lance for a little bit longer. Was that really too much to ask for?

I thought back to yesterday, when a impromptu trip to Florida seemed to be such a good idea. Now looking back on it, I don't think a worst idea could have been pitched. Everything seemed to annoy me, except for Lance. Cynthia was annoying. Josh was annoying. Joey was annoying. The cell phone in my hand was...well, you get the idea. But the whole point of our Florida trip was to get away from our troubles, not walk face first into a set of new ones....realizing I had to take matters into my own hands, I placed the phone back to my ear where Cynthia and Joey were still going at it, and this time, Josh was throwing his two cents in as well.

"Cynthia!" I screamed into the phone, my chest hurting from the pressure that I had exerted."Look...you and Josh and Joey...go to a diner or something. Have breakfast for a couple of hours..."

Hearing my desperate words, Lance curiously looked up at me. He didn't know what I was doing--hell, I had just decided what I was doing two seconds ago. "When Lance and I are ready to meet up with you, we'll give you a call and let you know, okay?"

"Okay," Cynthia muttered sullenly as I walked back over to the motel window. I got there just in time to see my cousin slap Joey across the face. He stared at her for a brief second, shocked by what she had just done to him. Obviously, the idea of him using a girl for a one-nighter really bothered her. She was a feminist in an odd way, I thought silently, as I moved away from the window, not wanting to see the three idiots any longer.

"We'll see you three in a little while, Cynthia--see you later." And without waiting for her answer, I hit the cell phone's `power' button, placing the electronic device on top of the nightstand. An overwhelming seductiveness came over me as I turned to face Lance, whose perplexed expression clearly reflected his confusion at my actions.

"Stephen..why'd you tell them to go to a restaurant? Why didn't we just leave now and.--" Stepping close to Lance, I cut off his words of protest as I cradled his face in my hands and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"Because," I whispered softly against his mouth. "Because I said so. Because I want to have some more time for ourselves...and because...I..." The trail of words stopped flowing from my mouth then, as my coffee colored eyes locked with his. There were so many things I wanted to say to Lance, but my mouth just refused to move. I just wanted to stand there all morning, staring into his eyes, holding on to that connected feeling that Lance and I had....the power of my feelings suddenly overwhelmed me then. My knees grew weak as I continued to stare into Lance's eyes, feeling as though I was losing myself in his soul. I saw so much in that look...

Lance finally broke the spell between us by quickly pressing his mouth against mine, and as he did this, I felt his body relax in my arms. Embracing my waist, Lance began to slowly back me up against a wall.

"So..." Lance sighed as he flashed me an intriguingly shy smile. "What do you say we go get ourselves cleaned up a little, hmmm?" Judging by the lust existent in his green eyes, I could tell that he wanted to do much more than just get cleaned up. And I didn't mind that one bit.

"Sounds good," My voice came out soft as Lance quickly pulled my shirt off. "And maybe," I said as Lance threw my shirt off to the side. "We could pick up where we left off?" I asked him hopefully, as we began a slow walk to the bathroom.

"Well, wouldn't you know I was planning to do that all along," Lance giggled as he placed another kiss in the crook of my neck. "I mean, we were just getting started on the good stuff before we were so rudely interrupted, right?"

"Right," I agreed, tracing a path down Lance's cheek. As I stared at him, my mind couldn't get over how beautiful Lance was. It seemed that the more time we spent with each other, the more beautiful he became. "We think alike, don't we?" I managed to ask breathlessly as Lance stripped off his pants before getting to work on mine. His fingers slowly toyed with the metal button on my pants, before unbuttoning them and allowing them to drop to the floor.

"Yup," Lance agreed. "And if we think so much alike, then I'm sure you know what I want now, right Stephen?" He playfully arched an eyebrow at me, while grabbing my hand, leading me into the bathroom. "We're gonna have a nice long shower...get all cleaned up..." Pulling me into his arms, Lance placed another kiss on my lips. "And hopefully, no one will interrupt us this time." And with that, we disappeared in the bathroom, happily uninterrupted for the remainder of the morning.

So that's it. I got another Biology test coming up (I got a 76 on the last one!!!! Woo-hoo! That's good for me...) so who knows when the next chapter will be out. But it will be a good one...Wisconsin bound! Remember, I love feedback....sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

Love ya poodles (it's the Karen Walker in me coming out :) --Gabriella