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....

Author's Note: Chapter 47 is dedicated to Clarkey, for without him, there would be no Harris. I love ya sweetie.

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 47

In My Arms

I think I've said it before, but this summer should have been nicknamed, `the summer of firsts' for me. I had delved into my first sexual relationship, felt things that I had never felt before, I had gone on my first tour (and hopefully, not my last) and now, I was experiencing my first time in Florida.

Unlike other people my age, I had never been privileged enough to have visited the Sunshine State. And now, here I was 21 years old and exploring Florida for the first time ever. So far, as Lance drove through the sunny, tree lined streets, it seemed nice enough. Friendly. Beautiful. And if I were a straight boy, more bikini clad girls than you could shake a stick at.

As Lance continued to drive through the streets, a happy smile appeared on his face. "I really love this place, Stephen," he said as he rounded a corner at top speed. I felt my heart fall to my shoes...no matter how much I loved the man next to me, I still hated the way he drove. "I just can't wait for you to see my house....I love it." He let out a slight laugh. "Love it, but haven't been there since the tour began...funny, huh?" Lance asked as pressed the accelerator once more, causing the car to go even faster down the quaint side street.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna bust a gut that was so funny," I muttered under my breath as my fingernails dug themselves in the faux leather of the door. Luckily, either Lance hadn't heard me, or had blocked out my comment--one of the two, when he suddenly turned down a more secluded, private road, lined with property blocking shade trees. There weren't many houses on the block, and they were spaced out so that they weren't on top of each other. Clicking on his blinker, Lance suddenly turned into the driveway of a large, Spanish styled house. It was modestly sized, a bit angular in form and covered in dark, multicolored stone--simple, yet elegant. I liked it a lot.

Parking his 4-runner in the house's driveway, Lance cut the engine off and turned to me, a somewhat expectant look on his face. "So...this is my house...what do you think of it so far?"

Nodding, I felt a smile creep onto my face. I could have joked and said that I hated it, but by the look on my boyfriend's face, I could tell that he was really proud of his house. And I didn't want to burst his bubble, so I just smiled even wider. "I love it," I said honestly. "I really do...Lance...it's wonderful."

A small breath left his lips and I could tell that he had been counting on my opinion. "Thanks," he said, a relieved look crossing his face. "I like it a lot--I had a lot of stuff remodeled inside--oh, what am I telling you for?" He laughed and swung open his car door. "Let's get out of this car and get inside so I can show you around."

Jumping out of the 4-Runner, I grabbed my knapsack and joined Lance as we walked up the cobblestone path that led to the front door. Fumbling with the keys, Lance tried a number of them before finding the right one that unlocked the entrance.

"There!" he exclaimed triumphantly as we heard a `click'. "Got it! See what being away for so long does to you?" Opening the door, Lance walked inside and I followed him, closing and locking the door behind me. For a few seconds, I just stood in the hallway and marveled at my surroundings. The ceilings were high and arched, while pine colored beams ran across them for support. A stone tiled pattern led the path into the living room, where Lance had thrown his knapsack down on the plush, navy blue couch.

"So...what does my boyfriend think of my place?" Lance flopped down on the couch, crossing one leg over the other as he waited for my answer. A smirk forming on my lips, I walked over to the couch and fell on the empty space next to him.

"Well, Lance..." I sighed, looking around the room with a critical eye. "It's really great and can I say one thing?" A worried look appeared on his face.

"What?" Lance asked, concern flooding his voice while he waited for my answer. His eyes grew round as I continued to inspect the elegant looking accessories and furniture that he had picked out. "What's wrong?"

Biting my lip to hold my laughter back, I attempted to give Lance a serious look."Well...you really are gay Lance--you've got great taste. Nice design sense..." Hearing my comment, Lance pulled one of the couches throw pillows from in back of me and promptly bonked me over the head with it. "Sorry," I apologized, as I rubbed my head where he had hit me. "I just couldn't help myself...it's really a great place that you've got here....well, what I've seen so far. I've only seen the hallway and the living room--" I arched my eyebrows upwards at him. "When are we gonna get to the good stuff--like the bedroom?"

"Oh, aren't we the eager one?" Lance teased me as he got up and pulled me off the couch. "Well, if you're so eager, why don't we just go upstairs and see it?" His eyes took on an almost dreamlike appearance as he leisurely looped an arm around my waist, waiting for my answer.

"Okay," I answered immediately, causing him to smile. Lance pulled me towards him and our lips met. Not breaking apart for quite awhile, we lost ourselves in the spontaneity of our passionate kiss, and I allowed myself to enjoy the way his lips felt pressed against mine. Fingers quickly running through my hair, Lance allowed them to trail down, cradling my cheeks in his hands. I felt my muffled breaths increase and my pulse quicken, as his hands slowly began to work down my back...

The sudden ring of the doorbell jolted Lance and I out of our kiss, nearly causing me to fly straight through the ceiling. Looking startled, it took Lance a couple of seconds to gain his composure, lost from our impassioned embrace that we had been enjoying.

"I wonder who it is?" Lance growled as he walked over to the large panel windows that were covered by sheer light blue drapes. Parting the fabric, a scowl appeared on his handsome face when he saw the interrupter.

"Guess who?" he muttered bitterly as he walked into the hallway. Giving me a look, Lance rested his hand on the doorknob, waiting to see what my answer would be.

"Who?" I asked, completely clueless to who might have felt the need to bother us. Looking back, I realized how ditzy I truly was. Shaking his head helpless, Lance just turned the doorknob and in a matter of seconds, I received my answer: it was none other than my wonderful cousin and her boyfriend. Yup, thank you Cynthia and JC for ruining another soon-to-be-perfect moment between Lance and I. `Great timing, you two--Bravo', I thought resentfully, trying not to let my disappointment show on my face.

"Hi Stevie!" Cynthia squealed as she rushed into Lance's house, nearly knocking him over with her pent-up excitement. "Isn't Florida great??? I love it so far!" Wrapping her arms around my neck in a welcoming hug, Cynthia reminded me of someone who had way too much sugar and caffeine. Her hangover had all but disappeared, and her violet eyes were bright and shining as she pulled away from me, turning to give Lance and impromptu hug.

"Hey Cynthia," Lance said, trying his best to sound cheerful. But I could attest to how he felt inside--completely let down, like a balloon who had just been deflated. "How are you two doing?"

"Oh great!" Cynthia exclaimed speaking for the both of them. Her voice was bubbly and excited as she backed up towards Josh. "Just wonderful..." Flashing a secretive look at he boyfriend, Cynthia suddenly burst out laughing. "Aren't we???" she exclaimed between giggles.

A shy, sneaky grin crossed Josh's face and his face soon took on an expression that matched my cousin's. "Yup, we certainly are." He reached out and encircled her waist, drawing my cousin's hips next to his and for a few seconds, Lance and I were lost as the two of them shared a long, lengthy giggle over a secretive, private joke.

I quickly glanced at my boyfriend, and shared a look of my own with him. I just wanted the two of them to get out of there--let them giggle and laugh over their own little affairs by themselves. We had much more serious business to get down to...

"Anyways," Cynthia finally said, trying to recapture a normal look on her face. "We dropped Joey off before at Chris's apartment--we kinda had a fight at the diner," she sighed, rolling her eyes at her past events of the day, before continuing on, "--and then Josh and I were planning to go out to lunch--" She glanced downwards at her elegant silver watch. "Oops, I mean dinner--it's getting kinda late--and we were wondering if you two wanted to come along with us." A knowing look appeared on her face once more. "That is, if you two don't have other plans--dinner in bed, eating off of each other's ass or something." A self-satisfied smirk appeared on Cynthia's lips, knowing that she had zinged us good. Daring to sneak a look at my boyfriend, I saw that his face was the color of a fire engine, looking like he wanted to crumple to the floor and die at any second.

If I had a dollar for everytime that my cousin made some sort of sexually suggestive commentary regarding Lance and my relationship, I would never even have to worry about my mother's will, I thought as my face began to match Lance's. But the worst thing about her comment, was that it was true--Lance and I probably would have stayed in bed the entire night and she knew it. "No, we aren't," I lied through my teeth. "In fact, Lance and I were planning to head out to dinner ourselves--I think we'd love to go out with you two, right Lance?" I asked pointedly, turning my back to Cynthia and Josh so that I could cross my eyes and stick my tongue out at him at the same time.

"Uh...right," Lance said lamely, averting my gaze. He was trying his damnest not to laugh at my goofy expression by staring at the carpet underneath his feet. "In fact--why don't you two get comfortable and Stephen and I will go and get fixed up, alright? Stephen?" He nodded his head towards the staircase, making his way up them.

Looking over my shoulder at Cynthia, I noticed the savvy grin on her face that clearly read, `I know what you two are going to do up there'.

"Don't take too long Stevie," she teased me, while taking a seat on the couch next to Josh. "Although I'm sure you and Lancey have mastered the art of the quickie, right?" Snickering, Josh slapped a hand over his mouth while Cynthia accentuated her wisecrack with a big wink. I tried to hide the sigh that desperately wanted to leave my mouth. As much as I could have happily strangled my cousin at that moment, I did my damnest to just ignore her, while trekking up the staircase. Getting angry would be hopeless, I told myself. I might as well expect these sort of comments for the rest of my life--or as long as Lance and I would be together.

Once I reached the second floor, I found that my boyfriend was nowhere in sight. "Lance?" I called out, looking at the various doors that lined the hallway. I noticed that Lance had a lot of rooms, and my heart swelled when I remembered his offer for me to live with him. Smiling to myself, I thought of waking up with Lance everyday...that would be heaven. Not going to happen, but heaven nonetheless. Turning my attention back to finding Lance's whereabouts, I called out his name once more. "Lance? Where are you?"

"In here--second room on the left, Stephen--" Lance's voice rang through the stark air of the second floor. Following the sound of his voice, I stopped dead in my tracks once I stood in the . doorway of his room. It was a beautiful, I noted as my eyes took in the perimeter of the space in front of me. Cream colored walls, a thick black rug covering the floor and Lance standing in the middle of it all, thoughtfully examining a couple of shirts he had laid out on the bed.

The bed, I thought dejectedly, noticing how comfortable it looked. It was king sized, covered with tasteful black and burgundy trimmed satin sheets. It looked so cozy and inviting, I momentarily thought about running downstairs and telling Cynthia and Josh that there was a change of plans. But knowing that that excuse wouldn't go over too hot with them (as well as opening Lance and I up to a plethora of jokes and taunts), I held back the sigh that desperately wanted to slip my throat and forced myself to enter reality once more.

"What do you think?" Lance asked, noticing that I had entered the room."Do you think I should go with the white shirt or the brown one?" Walking over to him, I took a place in back of him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and rested my head on his shoulder.

"I think you look better in nothing," I told him honestly, placing a tiny kiss at the nape of his neck. "But that's just my opinion."

Laughing, Lance turned around so that he could look at me. He placed his strong hands on my shoulders and chose to gaze into my eyes for a couple of seconds. "Funny isn't it? I happen to think the same thing about you," he ruminated, before placing a quick kiss on my lips. Suddenly realizing that I had finally made it into his bedroom, an interesting look entered his bright, luminescent eyes. "So...." he trailed off, drawing my body a little closer to his. "This is my bedroom...you like?"

"Like?" I asked, pretending to look a little taken aback. "Whatever happened to the word `love'? And when do we get to christen the bed?" I asked eagerly, acting like a kid on Christmas morning. "Huh? Huh?"

"Patience, Stephen," Lance sighed, looking forlornly at the bed in back of him. "Patience..." He looked back at me and I saw a glimmer in his eye. "Christen the bed, huh? Nice term there...wonder why I didn't come up with it sooner?"

"Hmmm, I wonder," I murmured, not really concentrating on his words, as my concentration focused on just getting that dinner with Cynthia and Josh over as soon as we could. "I wouldn't worry about it though...I'm sure we'll get to do it soon enough, right?"

"We better," Lance commented, his expression one of dead seriousness. "Cause if we don't, I will be a very unhappy boy....very unhappy." He followed up his words by sticking out his lower lip out in an adorable pout.

"Now now, we wouldn't want that, would we?" I questioned, while unwrapping my arms from his waist and walked over to the two shirts he had laid out. "So which shirt are you wearing?"

"I don't know--I think the brown one--I have no idea what restaurant Josh and Cynth have in mind, so I think it's safer to go with the dressier one," Lance said sensibly as he took the shirt off the hanger. He looked over at me and smiled. "Do you need a shirt to wear? There's plenty in my closet--go and knock yourself out."

"Thanks," I said gratefully. I walked over to the open closet and marveled for a couple of seconds, stunned by the sheer amount of clothes Lance had stockpiled in there. All kinds of shirts and pants and jackets...very nice, I thought as my eyes were drawn to a light blue button down shirt. Pulling it off of the rack, I realized that it was exactly identical to Lance's, save for its color. A smile crossed my face at the idea of us wearing matching outfits--that would have been way too funny, I thought as I pictured the two of us looking alike.

"Hey Lance?" I called out, backing out of the closet, shirt in hand. "What do you think? Twins?" I held up the shirt, modeling it against myself. "We could play that game."

"Oh please, Stephen," Lance rolled his eyes good-naturedly, getting my joke. "There are tons of games I have in mind, but dressing alike is definitely not one of them." He looked at me pointedly and his deep voice had taken on a somewhat tempting tone, making me weak in the knees. His eyes ran over my body as I stood there, and before I could become too enticed by Lance's oh-so-seductive words, I took it upon myself to disappear back into his closet. I had to keep my mind focused on finding a shirt and not on what kind of games Lance had in mind...although that thought was much more entertaining.

After a few seconds of deliberation, I picked out a lightweight crimson colored shirt. Stripping off my shirt, I quickly changed into the new one and found that it fit me perfectly. Reveling in the feeling of wearing something that had touched Lance's skin, I couldn't help but smile. I had been doing a lot of smiling lately and I liked it. Humming to myself, I turned to walk out of the closet, only to find Lance standing almost on top of me.

"Ack!" I exclaimed in surprise. "You nearly scared the pants off of me!" Realizing the words that had automatically popped out of my mouth, another blush passed over my face. "Nice choice of words, huh?" I asked Lance sheepishly. " See what I have on my mind?"

"Yup," Lance nodded, his voice thick with desire. "And don't think I don't like it, Stephen." His voice had dropped a few notches, as walking over to meet me halfway. Before I could respond, Lance had placed a very passionate kiss on my lips, not even allowing me to utter a word. For the next few seconds, my mind concentrated on the feeling of Lance and I pressed together, the way his tongue slowly met mine until they touched and the feel of his hands supporting the small of my back. You'd think after two people kiss so many times, the feeling would have lost all meaning. But everytime Lance and I kissed, it felt as wonderful as the first time our lips had touched.

"Whoa," I gasped after we parted, feeling as though someone had whisked the rug from under my feet. My head was swimming and my skin was crawling with pleasure. `Did Lance really have to go and do that?', I asked myself, while he examined my feverish appearance. We remained silent for the next few seconds, not wanting to ruin the perfect moment between us.

"Wanna get going?" Lance finally asked, his eyes growing dark with emotion as he slowly slid his hand up and down my back. "I don't want Cynthia and Josh getting all suspicious down there..."

"Okay," I managed to squeak out, my voice coming out about six octaves higher than normal. How one person could wreck havoc on you, I thought as Lance and I left his bedroom and began to head back downstairs. But then, that was Lance...and that was why I loved him so much...

The four of us had dinner at a very nice, moderately fancy Italian restaurant. Once we had arrived there (Josh had driven Cynthia in his car, while Lance had taken his 4-Runner) and we were hidden in the shadows of the parking lot, Lance took my hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze as he did so. As we entered the restaurant, a couple of the teenage patrons dining there had immediately noticed the two members of `N Sync and began screaming their heads off. I saw the deer-caught-in-the-headlights look that appeared on suddenly appeared on Lance's face as the shrill maniacal shouting hit our ears. Immediately, Lance dropped my hand like a hot potato and shoved his hands into his pockets. Being the gracious gentlemen they were, Lance and Josh (excuse me, JC to the teenagers) signed a couple of autographs while Cynthia and I looked on. A few seconds later, the four of us were whisked off to the restaurants roped off, VIP section, away from the still-screaming mob of girls.

"Forgot what that was like," Lance murmured, shaking his head as we took our seats at one of the restaurant's elegant cherry wood tables. "I just got so used to being with you..." Looking at me, I could see the weariness of the whole ordeal in his eyes. I knew what he meant. Seeing those teenage girls wanting a piece of my boyfriend to take home with them, just reminded me who I was dating. It wasn't some guy from school or some guy that I had met through a mutual friend: Lance was a pop star, on the cover of magazines, seen dancing and singing in videos. Millions of girls and gay guys fantasized about him, being his significant other, but I was the lucky one. I was the individual who got to kiss Lance every night before we went to bed. I was the one who slept with him. And I was a regular, normal guy plucked out of anytown USA. That kinda shook me back to Earth, no matter how much I didn't want to face reality. I had forgotten just how huge Lance's public persona really was and suddenly, the experiences of sex alfresco by a pond and in the backseat of his 4-runner seemed more than just naughty--they were risky, dangerous threats to his career. Had we gone insane those nights before, giving in to what our bodies desired instead of thinking sensibly??? It certainly was something to think about...

"Stephen?" Lance asked as he gently nudged my leg with his foot, in an attempt to bring me back to life. "Stephen? Hello...."

Shaking myself out of my trance, I was greeted with three concerned stares. "Hey," I said, a bit agitated by my thoughts. "What's up? What's going on?"

"I asked you if knew what you were ordering?" Lance repeated, frowning at me. Worry had crept into his eyes as he watched me pick up the leather bound menu sitting in front of me.

"Oh," I said, opening it up to the section of expensively priced entrees. "I'm not sure yet....what are you having?"

"I don't know," Lance said, switching his gaze from me to his menu. "I could go for some lasagna or something. Not sure." His eyes fell on me once more, distress clearly evident in them. "You sure you're okay, Stephen? It's not like you to not answer me..."

"I'm fine," I said a bit too harshly, as I flipped the laminated pages of the menu with force. "Don't worry, please," I added, my voice growing slightly resentful. I desperately wanted to reach over and pick up his hand to show him how much I cared for him, but I didn't. There were other people in there and if I picked up another man's hand, wouldn't that be obvious that Lance and I weren't just friends??? How many guys do you see pick up another guy's hand when neither of them are gay?

I remained quiet throughout most of the meal, even when Cynthia managed to spill half a plate of Fettuccini Alfredo all over our waiter. My mind had focused in on the past events of the last few days, where, after enough examination, it seemed that Lance and I had engaged in more sex than we had ever had before. That was more than little embarrassing, I thought as I took a sip of the red wine that the waiter had just poured for the four of us. I had gone from being celibate to being a nymphomaniac in a matter of hours. Why? I asked myself as our orders came and were placed in front of us. Why had I decided that sex was the answer to everything? It wasn't. And though it felt wonderful (especially when I knew that the person I was doing it with, loved me), it wasn't the answer to the problems in my life, but merely a substitute for crying over my deceased mother and the mess that she had left me in.

And it made Lance happy. Hell, it made me happy. I'm not going to deny that, but there had to be a time when you say, Stop it already and get back to real life.' Those rabid fans had reopened up my eyes. Lance was my boyfriend, yes, but we each had responsibilities and commitments that we had to remember. Didn't Lance even say that he wanted to quit N Sync last night? That itself was wrong for so many reasons, I'd need fifty hours just to explain them all. As I shoved the first forkful of noodles into my mouth, my mind reeled itself back to the night that Lance and I had double dated with Justin and Harris. They had made us extremely uncomfortable with their overtly sexual behavior, and now look at Lance and I. We had turned into them...you know what they say--What goes around, comes around...

As I twirled my spaghetti around on my fork and became oblivious to my surroundings, I sank deeper and deeper into my pool of thoughts. Over the past few days, Lance had made me feel desirable and dare I say it, sexier? He had made me feel good...it was that moment after the exciting part that I loved the most. The part where I would hold Lance, or he would hold me, and we wouldn't say a word to each other. He was at his most breathtaking right after he came...the look of sheer vulnerability that lingered in his beautiful chartreuse eyes as he stared at me. Seeing that moment made me the happiest man on Earth...it made me forget about everything that bothered me and allowed me to sink into a world where Lance held the number one position...We had a bond that I had never ever experience in my life. Why should we wreck it just because we needed to feel it all the time, every moment of the day...night...it didn't make sense anymore. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

"Stephen???" I shook myself out of the fog that I had sank into and looked over at my boyfriend, the man who the thoughts rolling around in my mind were about. As I met his eyes, I noticed Lance just wasn't looking at me with concern, but dead-on worry.

"Yes? What's wrong?"" I asked, placing my fork on the edge of the plate. I reached for my napkin and wiped my lips off before turning back to him with a cold stare in my eyes. Don't show any emotion to him...we're in public', I told myself. I have to keep remembering that we're in public. There might be photographers around.'

"Nothing's wrong with me, but I am a little worried about you." Lance kept his voice low and quiet, so that I would be the only one able to hear his words of alarm. "You've barely said anything throughout the entire meal...are you okay?" His light emerald colored eyes sparkling in the dim light of the restaurant, Lance began to reach out for my hand. But just as his fingertips brushed against my skin, I pulled my arm away as though his touch burned me.

"Stop it," I hissed, as I shifted my seat even further away from his. Why in God's name was Lance doing this to me? He was turning into the snake who teased Adam and Eve with the forbidden fruit--and we all knew how they ended up. Did Lance really want to get caught, just because he couldn't wait until we back to his car? Doing my best to avoid Lance's bewildered gaze, I couldn't possibly miss the clearly hurt expression that lingered in his eyes. I just wanted to tell lean over and whisper in his ear why I was acting like this, that I was only doing it for the good of his career. But for some reason, the words refused to leave my lips and for the rest of the meal, I kept to myself, shoving the pasta into my mouth so that I would have an excuse for not speaking. It was an uncomfortable meal, to say the least. And the bottles of wine that the waiter kept bringing us didn't help one bit. It only made me more paranoid, made Lance crankier, and Cynthia and Josh a little more uncontrolled. Great, one freak, one grouch and two drunks. Fabulous.

Where there was a lull in the conversation that Cynthia and Josh were engaged in, he leaned back in his chair and eyed Lance and I, with a drunken gaze."I have an idea--" he suddenly announced, his speech a little garbled from the after effects of the alcohol. "Well, it's not a great idea, but...what do you say we go and drop by Justin's house now? I know that was the original plan, but..." His shaky words trailed off into an incoherent drunken babble, as he polished off the last drops of his wine.

"Now?" Lance asked in surprise, his pale eyes flashing bewilderment. "Jayce...it's..." He checked his watch. "It's nine o'clock...what if he's not home...and I thought we were going over to Justin's house tomorrow..."

"So what?" Cynthia asked, her voice just as slurred as Josh's, if not a little more. "Just a little drop over, say hello and that's it...what do you say?" I looked over at Lance, waiting for his response. I expected him to meet my gaze, checking to see if I wanted to go too, but his eyes never left the table in front of him. I felt stung by his rejection, but I realized that I deserved that treatment. I was the one who pulled away from him. I turned my attention back to my very unhappy looking boyfriend.

"Sure," Lance agreed, unconsciously tapping his utensils against his plate. A funny look crossed his face as he continued to talk. "Why not? We'll drop by and say hello...it's not that late..." He stood up suddenly, pushing his chair away from the table with a sickening scrape. "Excuse me everyone...I have to go to the bathroom." A little tipsy himself, Lance began ambling towards the men's room, and as much as I wanted to follow him, I didn't. I knew that if I did follow him, we would only fight. We both had alcohol running through our bloodstreams--I needed to talk to him when we were alone and away from the prying eyes of the public surrounding us.

As I sat there and stared at my hands, which I had neatly folded in my lap, I noticed that Josh and Cynthia were peering drunkenly at me. They knew that something had happened between Lance and I and that it wasn't good. But I certainly wasn't in the mood to digress....

A few seconds later, Lance came back to the table and looked at Josh and Cynthia. "Well? Are we going?" Nodding, my cousin and her boyfriend managed to stand up without falling straight down to the ground, looked at each other and giggled at their unsteadiness. Rolling my eyes, I looked over at Lance and noticed that he was staring down at his feet, looking utterly dejected. Feeling my gaze on his, Lance picked his head back up and offered me a small smile. I didn't return it though and instead focused all my concentration on Josh and Cynthia. They were really drunk, I thought as I stood up. I was a little buzzed, but I could still see straight and immediately, I came up with an excuse so that Lance and I wouldn't be seen leaving together.

"You know?" I said, turning to Lance. "I think I'm gonna drive them two over to Justin's--I don't think neither of them are in any shape to drive."

Lance was struck speechless for the second time that night, his mouth dropping clear to his shoes. "Stephen..." he trailed off, shaking his head in wonder. "Why...I don't get it...why are you acting like this?" Not bothering to answer Lance, I walked around to where Josh was giggling his head off and took his car keys from the pocket of his jacket. Looking back at my boyfriend, I saw an angry look pass over his face as he yanked his car keys out of the pocket of his pants and stormed out of the restaurant, without even saying good-bye. As I watched his figure disappear out of the restaurant's VIP section, Cynthia stumbled over to me.

"Stevie...did you and Lancey have a fight?" she whispered, her eyes round with shock. She of the all-knowing gaze and hearing, had heard my decision to take them over to Justin's and had seen Lance leave the restaurant without me in tow.

"No..." I sighed. I closed my eyes briefly and still saw Lance's despondent face staring back at me. I didn't want to hurt him, I said to myself as the three of us began to leave the restaurant. I didn't...I had hurt him before, and I had just done it again. And things had been going so well between us...why had I thought those things? What happened to my "fuck it" attitude?

With one last sigh leaving my lips, Josh, Cynthia and I left the restaurant just in time to see Lance drive off in his 4-runner. Standing on the curb, I watched his taillights disappear in the night, the sinking feeling in my stomach ballooning out into full-blown torment. What had I done???

"I can't believe that Justin is living with Harris," Cynthia marveled as she adjusted her car seat, so that she was in a laying position. "I mean--it would have been nice if he told us, right?"

I sighed and held myself back from stopping the car and walking back to Lance's house. This night, with it's promise of me Lance having a little fun at his house, had suddenly turned into a nightmare. Lance and I had somehow wound up fighting, no thanks to me, and now Justin. We had driven over to Justin's house, only to find his mother, Lynn, saying that he had temporality moved in with his best friend--Harris.

"Best friend my ass," I muttered to myself, as I rounded the car around a corner. "When the hell is he going to tell his mom?" I was cranky and grumpy. I had a fight with my boyfriend and I was not in a good mood. Being social was the last thing I wanted to do right now.

"A man's gotta have his privacy," I said, returning my thoughts back to Cynthia's statement. As I came to a red light and tapped my foot on the brake to stop the car, I craned my neck backwards to see if Josh was okay. He had taken the position of lying flat on his stomach in the back of his car and was still giggling to himself about absolutely nothing.

"Josh, man? You okay?" I called out. I'll admit, I wasn't really worried about him. I only asked because it was polite and I didn't want to find a dead member of `N Sync when I stopped the car. Imagine the headlines with that story...

"I'm fiiinnnneeee," Josh answered in a singsong voice. "But I wish my girl was back here--you don't mind being a chauffeur do you, Stephen? Because if you do, then I'll keep my mouth shup--whoops, I mean, shut." I heard Josh rustling around in the back, before suddenly placing his face next to mind. "I meant shut." He repeated, trying not to laugh while he repeated his words. "Shut, shut, shut. That's a funny word--shut. Right, Cynthia?"

I did my best to ignore his drunken ramblings while driving to Harris's house. I didn't think this was a good idea--crashing his house just to see Justin. Why were we doing this?', I asked myself as Cynthia and Josh began to repeat the word shut' over and over in unison.

This is not funny, I heard myself saying. This is NOT funny anymore. I want Lance. I miss Lance. Why couldn't I just have told him to keep his hands off of me until we got back to the car? I was so stupid sometimes, I could kick myself.

"Stop it you two," I blurted out, ready to scream at the top of my lungs. "Josh, I have no idea on where Harris lives--could you help me out here instead of acting like a jerk?"

Josh stopped his giggling and began to grumble under his breath, but obligingly helped me out. As he gave me directions, I soon found the street that Lynn had told me Harris resided on. As I turned the car, I immediately noticed the change in my surroundings. The houses gradually turned into mansions and grew more secluded from view, hidden by oversized trees and well-placed shrubs. Tall wrought iron gates surrounded each mansion and I would have never found Harris's house if I hadn't seen Lance's 4-Runner parked in the driveway of one of the mansions. And even that was a little hard to see.

Pulling into the driveway, I saw Lance standing at the door, talking animatedly to a curly haired man. After I parked the car, and helped my cousin manage to stand on her own two feet, the three of us made our way up the expansive lawn and to the doorway to where Harris was standing. And believe me, he did not look happy.

"JC? Stephen? Cynthia?" he called out in disbelief as Lance slipped inside of the mansion. "What are you doing here?" His voice was filled with anguish as his aqua eyes watched us walk up to the doorstep.

"Hi Harris!!!!" Cynthia squealed as she rushed up to meet him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she jumped on him like she's done so many times to so many different people. But Harris never knew what was coming, and wound up falling backwards onto the floor, Cynthia still attached to him.

"What are you doing?" he cried out as Cynthia rolled off of him. Helping him up, Cynthia began to laugh quietly to herself as he brushed off his expensive looking clothes.

"Just saying hello," she said sweetly. "You know, I haven't seen you since the tour ended, sweetie--and I don't want to lose touch with you." Looking at my cousin like she had gone insane, Harris could only stare at her for a few seconds like he was in the middle of a bad dream.

"Well...hello then," Harris said, more than a bit flustered by our surprise visit. "What are you doing here on such short notice?"

"We just decided to say hello," I said, speaking for all of us. Cynthia and Josh were too involved in each other to pay attention to what Harris was saying, and Lance had disappeared somewhere, leaving me to answer questions. "Actually, it was more of Josh's idea--we were planning to visit you tomorrow. Sorry that we didn't call ahead or anything."

"Well..." Harris trailed off, looking backwards up the black, towering spiraling staircase that led to the upstairs. "Just and I did have something planned..." His handsome face turned bright red at what he had just said and a clearly uncomfortable look crossed his face. I had seen that look before. I had seen it on my own face when Cynthia or Josh or someone interrupted Lance and I just when we were about to have a little `downtime' to ourselves. And I hated when they did that. Judging from the unhappy look on his face, I knew that Harris was probably ready to murder us.

"Well then we'll leave then." Harris spun around to see Lance walking down the steps, his face the color of a beet. Raising my eyebrow, I noticed the somewhat queasy expression that had popped up on his face, as he joined the four of us at the doorway. He looked like he had seen something that he would have rather not wanted to see. I was dying to ask him if he was okay, but was cut off as Lance began to speak once more. "Look, we'll come back tomorrow, don't worry..."

"No, no," Harris muttered, closing the door behind Cynthia and Josh, who were now passionately entwined in each other's arms, sucking face like they hadn't seen each other in days. Hosting one of her perfectly shaped legs over one of Josh's arms, the two of them completely lost each other in their drunken moment of passion. Letting out a sigh filled with a mixture of disgust and sadness, Harris turned back to Lance and I and gave us a sickly smile.

"Why don't you two make yourselves comfortable in the living room," Harris said as he began walking towards the staircase. "And I'll go get Justy--" He stopped suddenly, slightly embarrassed at using his boyfriend's nickname in front of us. Not that Cynthia or Josh even noticed, since they were groping each other in ways that I didn't care to see.

Turning away from the two lovebirds, I slowly began to walk to the living room, with Lance following behind. My footsteps were shrouded in silence, save for the soles of Lance's shoes going clack-clack against the tiled oak wood floor. I attempted to put my spat with Lance behind me, as my eyes examined my surroundings. Harris's house was elegant, expensive--beautiful art deco paintings hung gracefully on the walls, marble statues sat on top of magnificent pieces of furniture. My head began to swim with amazement. I wondered how he managed to afford all of this. I mean, I knew that Harris had a good amount of money under his belt, but I never imagined that he was able to afford this. Not when he was just starting out as an opera singer--but then, you never know about people. Not until you get to know them.

I finally reached Harris's living room and it had seemed to me that the walk took forever. Making a beeline for one of the leather couches, I practically threw myself on it. And as I did this, I noticed that Lance had taken a seat in a leather armchair perpendicular from where I was, not bothering to meet my gaze.

`Fine,' I fumed inwardly, doing my best to ignore him sitting there. Once again, Lance and I had entered a ridiculous realm of petty fighting, that was no doubt, my fault. I had pulled away from him at dinner, and while I could have apologized for that, I didn't. We were both a little stubborn in nature, so why should this be any exception?

Just as I was sinking deeper into my black mood, Justin walked into the living room, his face turning scarlet as he met Lance's eyes. Jerking his head away as fast as he could, Justin noticed me sitting there, alone. For a second, his eyes briefly drifted to Lance, who was now staring at his hands, folded in his lap before looking back at me once more.

"Stephen?" Justin asked tentatively, the blush on his cheeks fading slightly as he noticed Lance and I sitting apart.. "How have you been...are you..." He paused for a second, as he unconsciously reached up to pat his kinky hair. "Are you mad at me?"

I frowned momentarily at him, confused to what he just said. "Mad at you?" I asked, bewildered by his words. "What are you talking about?"

Right as Justin was about to speak, my cousin and Josh noisily came crashing into the room, giggling to themselves as they fell onto another empty leather couch. Resting her head in Josh's lap, she looked up at her boyfriend with an adoring gaze, while he gently stroked her hair away from her eyes. I looked at them with a twinge of envy...they were so close. They were happy...Lance and I had been like that only a few hours ago and now--now we were sitting a few feet away from each other, not even speaking. Nice. Florida was really nice now, I thought sarcastically as Justin took a seat next to me.

"I'm talking about me telling Lance about your mom," he said softly, looking downwards. "I was kinda nervous when I heard that you guys dropped in. I know you said that you didn't want Lance knowing about your mom, but Stephen..." He looked into my eyes for a moment, his normally cocky demeanor fading fast. "I had to tell Lance. I had to. It wasn't right..."

I gave the worried `N Syncer a soft smile, touched by his caring behavior, his normal cocky demeanor gone. "Justin...To tell you the truth--I completely forgot about you telling Lance," I said, my voice low so that my boyfriend wouldn't hear us. "And I was mad a first--but now? Now I'm just glad that Lance has been with me through this whole ordeal--so really, I should be thanking you," I finished up.

"Whew," Justin sighed, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead. "I was kinda worried that you'd kick my ass or something....thanks for understanding, Stephen." Just then, Harris strode into the room, looking elegant in a pair of brown shorts, and a matching long-sleeved ribbed t-shirts with the Prada name emblazed across it. Justin got up from the couch, instantly forgetting me once he laid eyes on Harris and rushed over to him. As he did this, I did a double take and realized that Justin's outfit was exactly identical to his boyfriend's, except that his was red. `They matched', I thought, amused at the sight of them. Remembering my earlier comment to Lance about us wearing matching t-shirts, I looked over at him, hopeful that he would be looking at me, with the same amused look that was present on my face. But instead, I saw Lance staring at Cynthia and Josh, with what could only be described as a look of bitterness on his handsome face.

I hated the way he looked just then. And I knew why Lance looked that way--because of me. I had made my boyfriend miserable once more. Good going, Peterson, I thought resentfully as I shifted in my seat. Fuck my stubbornness. I needed to apologize to Lance. And I needed to do it now.

Just as I was about to get out of my seat, Harris cleared his throat, trying to get our attention. Wait, let me rephrase that--he was trying to get Cynthia and Josh's attention, since Lance and I were just sitting there, looking bored as bored could be. It was at that exact moment, I realized how truly boring my life was without Lance.

"Hey...hey," Harris did his best to raise his voice above the giggling and cooing of Cynthia and Josh, but it was no use. It wasn't until Harris walked over to what turned out to be a liquor cabinet, that Cynthia sat up suddenly, springing to life.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, watching as Harris opened up the cabinets mahogany doors, revealing more liquor bottles than you could ever dream of. "Where did you get all that booze?" she asked, clearly interested, her eyes gleaming with the anticipation of drinking some more.

"Oh, all this alcohol isn't mine," Harris laughed as he began to remove some of the bottles from their place on the shelves. "This is really my uncle's place--he spends the summers in Italy and he promised me that I'd have full run of this place in the summer." Lifting an eyebrow, Harris gave the five of us a smirk. "But knowing my uncle, he won't care if we take a few of these..." Closing the cabinet back up, Harris turned to face us. "Well....I have an idea...who wants to play a drinking game?"

"A drinking game?" Cynthia exclaimed, her head still in Josh's lap. "Aren't we all a little old to play a drinking game?" Looking at the four of us, her pretty face crumpled into a pout when she saw the rest of us smiling.

"It might be fun," Josh laughed as he continued to stroke his fingers through Cynthia's soft red hair. "I mean, come on Cynth--you like to drink." Holding back a snort of laughter, i realized that Josh's words were the understatement of the year. Unconsciously, my eyes slid back over to Lance, who I found was looking at me with a small grin on his lips. We exchanged a look, as though we were saying, "Cynthia? Turning down a drink? Pshaw..." And then our connection was broken, as Lance suddenly darted his eyes back to the floor in front of him. It was as though he had realized that we were still not speaking to each other. Feeling like my heart now weighed a ton, I bit my lip in disappointment as I turned my attention back to Harris who was now spreading the bottles out on the coffee table, while Cynthia, Josh and Justin sat around it. I waited until Lance had taken a place as well, and then I followed suit.

"Rules are simple," Harris announced, as he took a seat next to Justin. "One person picks a victim of their choice and asks them a question--if that person refuses to answer, they have to do a shot of the beverage of their choice." Giving us a charming grin, Harris eyed us, picking out his prey.

"Cynthia?" he finally asked, raising his eyebrows. "Ladies first--Why don't you start?" Sitting herself up, and resting her elbows on her knees, I could see the wheels in my cousin's head turning as her mind flipped through the various questions that she could ask us.

"Okay," she finally spoke. "Stevie, I'll start with you." Flashing a evil look in her eyes, "How many times have you and Lancey done it since you started going out?"

A look of horror crossed my face as Cynthia's question hit my ears. "What!?!?" I exclaimed as everyone around me, save for Lance, burst into laughter. Oh really funny', I thought angrily. That's no one's business at all.'

"Come on Stevie--you gotta talk or drink, one of the two," Cynthia laid out her ultimatum as she rubbed her hands together. "We don't have all day, you know." She leaned forward and waited for my answer, and I felt a blush creep up my face at lightening speed.

"Give me the drink," I said indigently, as I reached out for a shot glass and the bottle of vodka. "I refuse to answer that one." Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Lance giving me a relieved look as I poured my drink into one of the clear shot glasses. In one tilt of my head, I had quickly thrown the shot of alcohol back, as it burned a path down my throat. "Gahhh!" I exclaimed, shuddering at the taste, while everyone around me clapped wildly.

"My cousin the wuss," Cynthia announced as she giggled. "But I think we all know the answer--about sixty times--one for every day since they met--maybe a hundred twenty--twice a day..." I tried my best to shoot her a dirty look, but I just couldn't. I really didn't care what she had to say--I hadn't told anyone about Lance and I, and that was all that mattered. "Okay, Stevie--it's your turn--ask a question."

I took a deep breath, eying the five people around me. It would have been too easy to get Cynthia back, so I went to the next best person. "Josh, this ones for you..." I said, propping my elbows on the seat of the couch in back of me. "Tell me...is my cousin a big tease? Or does she give you exactly what you want?" Justin, Harris and Lance began to laugh uncontrollably at my question, while Josh's face turned as bright red as mine did before.

"Awww, come on, Stephen--" he said. "I'm a gentleman--I don't kiss and tell." Before he could say another word, a sly smile crossed his face. "But I'll say this much about your cousin..." He leaned forwards towards me, "Cynthia is very flexible."

"Josh!" my cousin shrieked as she punched him in the arm, while the four of us were laughing so hard by now, I'm surprised I hadn't peed in my pants. "I can't believe you!"

"It's part of the game, sweetie," Josh snickered as he looked around the room, his eyes lighting up as they landed on Justin. Cringing to himself, the blonde lead singer hid his head in his arms, waiting for Josh's question. "Okay, Curly," Josh began. "I gotta know something. The one night when we were in Houston, you disappeared between songs and when you came back, I asked you where you had been. You refused to answer me...where did you go?"

"What?" Justin asked innocently and I could tell by the nervous look in his blue eyes that he was lying through his teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about Jayce..." Sliding his eyes to his boyfriend, Harris refused to meet his gaze, opting to stare at the bottles lined up in front of his instead.

"Oh yes you do, Josh said knowingly. "You came back from one of the dressing rooms--me and the rest of the guys never thought you were gonna make it back on time....your shirt was hanging out of your pants...where did you go?"

"I plead the fifth," Justin said indigently as he reached for a bottle of whisky. "I'll have a drink instead." Uncapping the bottle, Justin poured himself a shot of the brown liquid and downed it fast as lightening. "There!" he announced, sticking out his tongue. "I did it. So there."

"Must be one hell of a secret," Josh chuckled, as he poured himself a glass of whisky as well. "Okay, Just--now it's your turn."

We continued the game, sometimes copping out at the naughtier questions that were asked (Lance refused to answer whether he liked getting or receiving, Josh refused to answer whether or not he's ever `disappointed' Cynthia in bed) or brazenly answering the easier ones (Cynthia had once spent a weekend in Cincinnati when she was 16 without her parents ever knowing, I admitted that I had stolen a CD once from a record store--only to send the retailer the money back anonymously because I couldn't handle the guilt) and so on.

By the time all of the good questions were exhausted, all six of us were completely shit-faced drunk, sometimes drinking for no reason at all. I could barely sit up straight and as I kept sneaking secretive looks at my boyfriend, I noticed that he wasn't in any better shape than I was. His face was splotchy, his hair was messed up even more than usual, and he kept mumbling nonsense under his breath.

But the far worst of everyone was my very own cousin--surprise surprise. Standing up, she walked over to Harris and threw herself in his lap.

"Why do you have to be gay?" she bemoaned as she stretched her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his curly hair. Looking around at us, a scowl crossed her pretty, drunken face. "Look at you guys--four of the best looking guys I've ever seen and you like boys!" she spat out, looking like she wanted to kill all of us.

"Cynthia," I broke her wailing, wanting her to shut her big trap, as my head was pounding like a kettle drum. "Shut up already. Just shut up."

"No!" she exclaimed, lifting herself from Harris's lap. "I won't...in fact..." In one spirited leap, Cynthia jumped up onto the coffee table, knocking some of the now-empty bottles to the floor. They landed on the carpet with light thuds, as Cynthia looked down at us.

"Cynth..." Josh called up to her. "Get down from there and back here." He motioned to his arms and gave her a sad lipped pout. "I miss you."

"Oh Joshy," she cooed drunkenly. "You're so sweet." She looked back at us, her violet gaze full of love--or confusion. One of the two. "Isn't he sweet? I think he's so sweet..." And with that, Cynthia suddenly pulled her top off, revealing her lacy bra underneath. It didn't leave much to the imagination. I slapped a hand to my forehead, suddenly remembering my cousin's wonderful habit of stripping whenever she got really drunk.

"Come on!" she exclaimed, looking at Lance. "You mean to tell me that you don't like these?" She pointed at her chest, which if she asked any other guy in world, they would have given her a very enthusiastic yes. Instead, my very intoxicated boyfriend, just let out a very uneven giggle.

"Oh Cynth--you don't do a thing for me," Lance laughed, before falling flat on his back, still giggling to himself. "Ask Harris or Justin--but don't ask....Ste-vie," he mimicked before sitting himself back up and gazing at me with that look in his eyes. In a matter of seconds, I went from depressed and drunk to happy and drunk. And it was all because of that look. It was the look that said, `Stephen I want to go home now--and jump into bed with you.' We locked eyes for a couple of seconds, while Cynthia continued to demand an answer from Justin and Harris about her breasts, before falling off the table.

"Oh my God!" I heard Josh exclaim, as the three of them rushed over to my drunken cousin. "Cynthia? You okay?"

I heard her mumble, "I'm fine....but Justin...Harris...you never answered me..." Still staring at Lance, he nodded his head in the direction of where the staircase was, his eyebrows lifting into a mischievous expression. Returning his look, I slowly got to my feet and checked to see if the other people in the room were even paying attention to us. They weren't. With secretive grins creeping across both of our faces, I raced out of the room with Lance following close behind me. Running into the hallway, Lance and I managed to stumble up the staircase, nearly falling down from the amount of alcohol in our bloodstreams.

When Lance and I had made it to the second floor, we stopped in an attempt to catch our breath. I began to steady myself, by holding onto a wall, only to pulled into Lance's arms.

"Missed talking to you," he mumbled as he placed a sloppy kiss on my lips. "I really did--Stephen, why are you mad at me?" His mesmerizing pale eyes stared at me, slowly filling with tears. That's one thing I hate about drinking--sometimes when you're really drunk, your emotions get all screwy and mixed up. And it was happening to Lance and I, because before I knew it, tears were streaming down my face as well.

"Lance," I whispered, as some of the wetness streaming down my face, dripped onto his shirt. "I was only trying to protect you...I didn't want anyone seeing us together in the restaurant--I was only trying to protect you from the press...I mean, if they were around--" My wasted ramblings were cut off as Lance pressed his lips against mine once more.

"Oh cram it, Stephen," Lance slurred against my mouth. "Just shut up, kiss me and let's go see the bedroom." We kissed again and again, each kiss growing more and more erotic as our tongues entwined together, all the while my head began to spin and my pulse began to gallop like wild horses.

"Stephen," Lance murmured, pulling away from me. "You wanna hear something funny?" The tears that had been running past his cheeks, stopped and as I looked at him, I noticed that Lance was biting his lip in a vain attempt to not laugh.

"What?" I asked, as my hands ran up his the back of his shirt. "What what? Tell me."

"When I came upstairs before," Lance began, the laughter now escaping his lips. "You know what I saw?" Not waiting for me to answer him, Lance forged ahead. "Justin. And he was naked, holding a whip."

It took all of my composure (and let me tell you, there's not much when you're drunk) not to laugh right in Lance's face. "What? A whip? Lance, you're so drunk..."

"No!" Lance exclaimed, shaking his head so hard, I'm surprised that his eyeballs didn't fall out of their sockets. "Justin was naked--and I saw something that I didn't want to see...and he was holding onto a whip." Nearly falling backwards, Lance steadied himself on my shoulders, pulling my body closer to his. "And he was so embarrassed...the poor boy. He nearly jumped me when I came upstairs--I think he thought I was Harris."

"So that's why you looked so uncomfortable when you came downstairs," I remembered as I gave him a soft kiss on his forehead. "Poor baby--your virgin eyes seeing something they shouldn't have."

Lance snorted and began tugging on my hands. "Virgin eyes...ha ha, very funny Stephen." He kept pulling me down the hallway, urging me to follow him as he stepped backwards, all the while keeping those incredible, slightly bloodshot eyes focused on mine.

Finally he stopped outside of a room and swung me around so that my back was pressed up against the wall. Lance gave me a shy smile and then moved in for another kiss, pressing his groin against my thigh.

"Someone wants something, don't they?" I teased him, as his kisses worked their way down my neck.

"Yup," Lance answered thickly. "How'd you guess?" And with that, Lance pulled me into the room, and kicked the door shut behind him.

"Where are we?" I asked Lance as I looked around me. The room we were in was gorgeous. Spacious with thick, plush ivory carpeting under my feet. The walls were lined with unlit candles and thick, intertwining ivy plants.

"I think this is their bedroom," Lance whispered as he threw me down on the bed. Climbing on top of me, I noticed that we were bouncing around comfortably. It felt like we were on the ocean. "Hey!" he exclaimed happily, as he patted the mattress around me. "They have a waterbed!"

"Cool," I agreed before reaching up and pulling Lance's face closer to mine. I needed to kiss him. I needed to feel his lips against mine, wanting the same thing I did. Lying there, Lance and I kissed for a few more minutes before I felt his fingertips brush against the hem of my shirt.

"Kinda fun doing it in someone else's house, ain't it?" Lance asked, as he tugged my shirt off my body. "At least I think it is." And then, Lance rolled off of me, my shirt in his hands.

"Where are you going?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows. I watched Lance pad across the room, slowly removing his shoes and his pants, letting them drop onto the carpet.

"The closet," Lance said matter-of-factly, looking over his shoulder at me. Giving me a wink, Lance walked to the closet and opened it up. "I wanna find that whip Justin had."

"Very kinky," I remarked as I laid on the bed, enjoying the up and down feeling from being on a waterbed for the first time in my life. "Did you find it?"

"Stephen?" Lance said, his voice filled with amazement and awe. "Come here--now." Sitting up, I did my best to roll off the water filled contraption. It took me a little longer than normal, since I was bouncing around on that stupid bed, but I finally made it onto my feet and stumbled over to the closet.

"What?" I asked, a little cranky that Lance had called me off the bed. "What--" My words came to a halt as Lance pointed in front of him, where a box filled with...um, a variety of naughty items were sitting. There were things in there I wouldn't have a clue what to do with...but obviously Justin and Harris liked them. A lot.

"Well," Lance said, amused by his findings. "Looks like the boys downstairs like it a little rough." Bending over, I gingerly poked through the box. The aforementioned whip was sitting on the top of the items, but as I dug deeper, my fingers brushed against something cool.

"Lord," I laughed as I pulled a pair of leopard print, fur-lined handcuffs out of the box. "These are just..." I trailed off as I struggled to find the right word. Looking up at Lance, I noticed a funny look on his face as I swung the cuffs back and forth in front of his face, as though I was a hypnotist.

"What?" Lance asked a little defensively, watching the swinging restraints like they were from another planet. "You think their sick or something?"

"I never said that," I said, as I ran my finger unconsciously around the soft fur. "I never said anything about them."

"Well, okay," Lance murmured, taking the cuffs from me. "These are kinda interesting. I never knew Justin had such a wild streak in him." I watched my boyfriend examining the handcuffs with perverse interest and then it dawned on me.

"Lance," I said slowly as I took the handcuffs back from him. "You don't want to..." I waited for some kind of response, but all I got in return was an ominous silence.

"No!" He finally exclaimed like he had been shot. "I mean, yes..I mean..." Eyes softening as he met my mine, I could practically read his mind. His gaze traveled downwards as I unsnapped one of the cuffs, the clicking of the metal sounding rather seductive in the quiet of the room. I heard Lance's breath quicken as I grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the closet, shutting the door behind me.

The closet was practically empty, save for the box of `fun' things and one or two coats. I reached up, feeling for the light's pull chain and clicked it on. Lance and I were bathed in a soft, white light while I stared at him, still playing around with the metal contraption in my hands. We remained speechless, while Lance's eyes were glued to the the handcuffs, still staring at them, lust growing in his eyes as the seconds ticked by.

"Do you trust me?" I asked him softly, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. I saw a lump form in Lance's throat as his head slowly nodded up and down, his eyes still intently focused on the item in my hands.

"Of course," he whispered, his voice echoing off the bare walls. "I don't think there's anyone else in this world that I trust more." Punctuating his words with a smile, Lance extended his wrist out to me and I grabbed for it, snapping one of the cuffs around it. Pulling that arm up in the air, as well as the other one, I snapped the other cuff around it. The handcuffs were looped over the bar that one would have hung an article of clothing on. I took in the sight of Lance with his arms restrained and away from his body for a couple of seconds, and I think I finally learned the meaning of `breathless'. I could barely take in a gasp of air as I stood in place, watching Lance tug helplessly on the handcuffs. For the briefest of seconds, I saw a frenzied look pass over his face, before a smile settled on his lips.

"I'm all yours Stephen," Lance remarked quietly, as I stepped closer to him. Placing my mouth over his, I gently parted his lips with my tongue and wrapped my arms around his torso. I moved my hands to his shoulders and ran them down the front of his shirt. Overcome by the amount of lust flaring up inside of my body, I ripped it open and pulled it off his body. Buttons flew in various directions, hitting the walls around us and, removing my mouth from his, a laugh escaped from my own.

"Sorry," I apologized meekly, embarrassed at how out-of-control I had just become. "I just ruined one of your shirts."

"Oh well," Lance sighed, moving his face to mine once more. "I don't care about some shirt. I need you, Stephen." And with that, we kissed again. I began to hurriedly unbuckle my belt, kicking off my shoes and undid my pants, stepping out of them once they hit the floor.

My breathing grew heavy as I reached up to trace a slow path over Lance's face. Tracing over his eyebrows, moving down his nose, over the outline of his lips...my touch was light and gentle, causing Lance's body to shiver slightly in the dim light. My fingertips started in on his chest...down his neck, circling around each of his nipples as I watched them form into tight, hard buds, receptive from my touch.

"Oh my God," Lance whispered, his breathing now raspy with satisfaction. I trailed away from his nipples and moved, began to move down his stomach, briefly resting my finger in his navel before trailing my fingers to his sides. And that's when I began to tickle him.

"Stephen!! " Lance gasped, his once breathless voice now filled with laughter. He began to squirm uncontrollably underneath my touch. "Oh my Lord..stop it... please..." Helpless due to his binded wrists, his face twisted up into an expression of immense agony, as he tried his best not to laugh. And yet, my fingers continued to mercilessly move over his sides, delighted that I had found one of his weaknesses.

"Oooh, is my baby ticklish?" I squealed, as Lance twisted his body one way, and then another in a pursuit to stop me. It didn't work at all. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!!"

"Stephen," Lance cried out, twisting his arms as he tried to kick me away. "I swear to God-- I'm--going--to kill you." He managed to gasp out in between laughs as tears began to stream down his face. "This isn't funny...keep doing this and you're not getting any tonight, mister." Watching the tears of pain flow down his face was not what I wanted, so I slowed down my touches until he stopped laughing.

"Sounds serious," I quipped as my hands left his sides for good. With that, I fell to my knees and looked up at him. I gently ran my hands up his body and then brought them down, until they rested on the waistband of Lance's boxers. Placing my face close to his groin, I could feel an unbridled heat emanating from that area, watching as the fabric began to lift into an aroused tent. I needed Lance. I needed to feel him. And slowly I began to tug the boxers off his hips, a little at a time, placing tiny kisses on his pale, exposed flesh before finally yanking the flimsy material down to his ankles.

Slightly opened mouthed by how excited my boyfriend was, I looked up at Lance, only to find him smiling down at me, his eyes alert and interested to what I was about to do next. With a grin, I began to nuzzle my lips against the smooth flesh of his thighs, before finding a way to slowly wrap them around the tip of his swelling member, before pulling away.

"Lance," I murmured thickly as I looked back up at him, desire clearly etched in my eyes. "You're beautiful, you know that?" My eyelids were heavy with the effects of the alcohol as I slid my hands back up his sides. "Absolutely beautiful to me..." And with those words, I began to run the tip of my tongue along the underside of his penis, licking it as though it were a lollipop. My hands ran back up the length of his torso so that I could slide my fingers over his nipples once more. Lance let out a groan of pleasure as my mouth engulfed the hotness of him over and over, until he was shaking from all of the tension building up inside of him. Unable to use his hands, Lance began to uncontrollably thrust his hips towards my face.

"Stephen," Lance moaned out loud, his hips now bucking wildly from what my mouth was doing to him. "I want to touch you...you don't know how much I need to..." Ignoring his pleas, I continued to work my mouth up and down his hardness, dropping my hands back down to his hips and cupping his ass in my hands. Running my tongue over the swollen, leaking head, I felt my body begin to quiver as the taste of him filled my throat. I could feel his body tense, working itself to the edge, but I knew I had to refuse him the right to come. I wanted to prolong his pleasure as long as I could and I did that by slowly removing my mouth from Lance.

"Stephen," Lance gasped, as I rose from the floor and to his lips. "You're evil...you're so evil to me." A small smile creeped across his face, despite the agony that I had left him in. "I didn't say I didn't like it though."

"I know," I breathed, as I brushed my lips across his face, fluttering my eyelashes against his soft skin. "Are you okay? You're not in pain or anything are you?"

"No!" Lance exclaimed quickly, tipping his head back as I placed a couple of kisses at the hollow of his throat. "Stephen...I love you. And this is absolutely incredible. I almost wish it would never end."

"I know," I sighed as I placed a couple of kisses along his chest. I moved away from my boyfriend as the box filled with naughty items caught my attention. Heading back, I began to rummage through it, while Lance continued to moan in frustration. Leaving him on the brink of ecstasy hadn't been nice of me, but I realized that Lance and I were playing some sort of game, where I held all the power. And part of the fun was watching him squirm under my control.

I continued to sift through the items, shaking my head at some of the things that Harris and Justin were into. I never would have guessed this aspect about them, I thought as my eyes latched onto a certain item. My heart raced at the thought of using it on my boyfriend and before I could deliberate any longer, I pulled it from the box and stepped in back of Lance.

"Stephen?" Lance asked, his voice spotted with anxiety at my disappearance. "Where did you go?"

"I'm right here, Lance," I whispered while running the item slowly down the middle of his back. He shivered as the cool wood slid against his body, causing his back to arch in response. "I wouldn't leave you...and tell me, how would I have gotten out of here if I didn't open up the door?" Enjoying Lance's response, I felt my own aching member twitch in my boxer shorts, as reminder to how much I desired him. Forcing my own needs out of my mind, I diverted my attention back to the man in front of me.

"I don't know," Lance sighed pleasurably as I leaned over and placed a tender kiss between his shoulder blades, before sucking on the soft flesh. I left a small red mark there, before leaving another one, only inches away. "I'm not thinking right...whatever you're doing to me right now...you're driving me insane, Stephen..."

"I know," I said with a little laugh that resounded throughout the enclosed space. I trailed my lips lower down his warm skin, until I reached the small of his back. Pulling away from Lance's body, I found my eyes fixated on my boyfriend's sensitive skin and I'm not sure if it was because I was drunk or if I was so intoxicated with love for Lance. At that particular moment in my life, I was boggled by the overwhelming amount of passion that was coursing through me. And it was all for the person in front of me. For a brief moment, I wondered why those feelings of love made a person want another person physically, to hold them, touch them...it was strange why the mind worked in such mysterious ways.

I looked back down at the paddle in my hands and slowly ran its edge up Lance's back once more, causing him to shiver in the growing heat of the closet. He trusted me so much...and suddenly, like a mechanism that had just kicked in, the romantic lyrics to some song I had heard ages ago, came tumbling from my lips, spilling into the air encircling us.

"You gave me all your love in one day..." I moved the paddle down once more, gently running it over his behind, my eyes mesmerized by the sight of Lance in front of me, naked and handcuffed. It was as though I had stepped into someone else's fantasy, never expecting that Lance and I would ever be engaged in this sort of thing. "You gave it all and almost faded away..." Stretching myself upwards, I brought the paddle around to the front of Lance's body and began to run it over his chest. Bits and pieces of the song were fading in and out of my memory. Why was I singing this? Was this the work of my subconscious once more, trying to tell Lance how much he meant to me at that exact moment? Or was I using the song as a soothing device to calm Lance down, so he knew that I loved him? I wasn't sure, and yet the lyrics to the song kept leaving my throat as I whispered them into his ear.

"So if you should feel a bit out of place...This vision not unlike a shooting star..." My wobbly sounding voice continued to sing. I ran the smooth, thin wood past his neck and back down over his chest again. "So I offer you a place to rest...And forget yourself...In my arms tonight ..."

I saw Lance look downwards, his eyes widening as they recognized the object in my hand. He twisted his neck backwards to look at me and for a moment, I froze. I knew I had freaked him out by showing him the paddle. He didn't want this--handcuffs had been one thing, but this? This was another.

To my surprise, the look in Lance's eyes wasn't one of fear. Instead, I felt his hips thrusting backwards, hitting the front of my body. A look of wanting was swimming around in those green eyes of his as he batted his eyelashes seductively at me. Wordlessly, Lance gave a single nod of his head, encouraging me to go on with what I was about to do. My hand shook and a seed of nervousness began to sprout deep in the pit of my stomach. I had to do it to him. I moved the paddle back to his ass and with a quick flick of my wrist, I hit the wood against his soft flesh.

He flinched slightly and a small groan of pleasure left his slightly parted lips. "Stephen..." Lance moaned into the air. I felt a sheer layer of sweat forming between our bodies as my hand held onto his shoulder, while I struck him once more with the paddle. I made sure I did it hard enough for him to feel the pressure, but not hard enough for tears to come to his eyes. I bordered on the thin line between pleasure and pain, hoping that he would never forget the experience that we were going through. I spanked him two more times before dropping the object back to the ground. Hitting the floor underneath us with a clatter, I moved my body closer to Lance, skimming his backside with my own pulsing erection. Doing that to Lance had turned me on more than ever...I felt incredible...

"You okay?" I whispered in Lance's ear, gently biting on the earlobe before nuzzling the tip of my crooked nose in his hair. Inhaling the spicy scent of his shampoo, I felt myself become even more needy than ever. Lance let out another moan before answering me.

"Fine," Lance choked out and I realized that there were, in fact, tears running down his cheeks, down his neck and onto his chest. My worst nightmare come true. I had hurt him.

"Oh my God, I hurt you," I sucked in my breath, worry filling my entire body at that moment. "Lance, why didn't--"

"No, Stephen," Lance began to sob, trying to move his body against mine, needing the friction that would allow him release. He continued to tug helplessly at the handcuffs that were keeping him from touching me. "I want you now...I wish I could touch you, hold you...but I can't. I need you, Stephen...you're driving me insane...please, I need you inside of me," he added urgently, sounding as though he was about to crack at any second.

It was with those words that I gave in to what Lance needed. I quickly pulled off my boxer shorts and pressed myself against Lance's backside. A gasp of relief left his lips, as my hands fell down to Lance's ass, gently running my hands over the soft, slightly reddened flesh, before parting his cheeks. I took a deep breath as my hips involuntarily moved forward, slipping me inside of my boyfriend. The heat from the spanking I had just given him, radiated like the sun onto my body. He let out an almost animalistic groan of satisfaction, craning his neck back so that his lips could meet mine. Resting my hands on his hips, I began to work myself...pulling completely out before slamming back in. I don't know what came over me just then, except that I wanted to give Lance an experience he would never forget. In any other light, I would have never went for what Lance and I were doing. I had always assumed that anything outside of pure romanticism was wrong...but this was different. I loved Lance and what I had just done seemed perfect....right...a matter of trust between two people. And I suddenly knew that Lance and I were meant to be together. As they say, it was written in the stars for us to have met, because there was no way I could even imagine my life without Lance, nor could I have imagined doing this with anyone else.

I continued to move in and out of my boyfriend, letting one of my hands drift to the front of his body, where I wrapped my fingers around Lance's pulsating erection. I ran my fingertips over the head, which was dripping precum like a leaky faucet. Taking some of the sticky liquid, I began to run my hand down the length of it, stroking him in time with my thrusts.

"Oh Stephen..." Lance moaned, dropping his head back onto my shoulder. "Oh God..." I watched his face contort into a mask of rapture as my hand moved faster and faster. Placing a kiss on his cheek, I bit my lip to control the pressure building inside of me. I couldn't take it anymore. The feelings spiraling throughout me were too intense to take anymore, and moving my lips to Lance's ear, I whispered, "Sweetie...I'm gonna come..." The words barely left my mouth before they came true, my body spasming as I held onto Lance for dear life. My knees weakened and my throat went dry as Lance managed to extract everything from my body. Moments later, Lance let out a strangled cry as his body tensed in my arms and he finally came. Closing his eyes, I noticed that his breath was leaving his mouth in uncontrolled pants, while he attempted to regain his lost composure.

"That was...just...I can't explain...Lord..." Lance trailed off incoherently as he turned his head backwards to kiss me again. "I love you, Stephen...I really do..."

"I know..." I said softly as I wrapped my arms around him, the sweat on our bodies beginning to cool us off. I felt that familiar satiated feeling come over my body as I sank into a state of post-orgasmic bliss. The feeling of Lance's body next to mine was indescribable. Soft and wonderful...perfect. We stayed that way for a few minutes before Lance finally broke the heavy quiet between us.

"Stephen?" Lance whispered, his voice filled with regret. "I hate to ruin a perfect moment, but could you find the keys to these things?" He tugged once more at the silver handcuffs. "My arms are killing me from being up like this for so long." I let out a gentle laugh and nodded, kissing his neck once more.

"No problem," I said as my arms left Lance's body. I turned back to the cardboard box and rummaged through it. Panic began to fill my body. I emptied out the contents and sifted through the odd contraptions and toys that had been in there. Oh no...this wasn't happening to us--was it?

"Lance?" I called out, trying to hide the alarm in my voice. "Uh, sweetie?"

"What?" he asked, automatically picking up on my fear. "What's wrong Stephen?"

"I can't find the keys." The words hit the air like a lead balloon. For a moment neither of said anything, not wanting to believe that this was actually happening. It couldn't be. We had just had a perfect time together...

"What?" Lance asked, sounding like he wanted to die right there on the spot. "You're kidding me, right? Stephen? I know you are?" I frantically checked the box once more, throwing all of the objects back into it, praying that I would see some sort of shiny key that would free Lance from the restraints. But my attempts were to no avail. Nothing. No key, no way of getting his wrists free from those things...

"Lance, I can't find it," I announced with worry as I walked back in front of him. A look of trepidation crossed his face as the realization of what was happening hit him at full force.

"You mean...I'm going to have to stay here? Or you'll have to get Harris and tell him?" A deep blush creeped up his neck and across his face. "Stephen, no--you have to find a way to get me out of these things without anyone finding out!"

"Well, I'm not a locksmith!" I exclaimed angrily, reaching up and examining the lock to the handcuffs. "I have no idea how to open these things up...Lance, I'm gonna have to get Harris. Maybe he has a key for them."

"Stephen, no!" Lance howled once more, stamping his feet against the floor. We were sobering up fast now, the realization of being humiliated in front of everyone now coming true. "Don't you have a bobby pin or something?"

"Where am I gonna get a bobby pin from?" I asked crossly, imagining the field day that Cynthia would have with this one. "It's not like I need them for my hair or anything."

"Well, look," Lance rolled his eyes, trying to calm down a little bit. "I'm sure that there's some way to get out of these things--" Our conversation was cut short when the closet door suddenly swung open and Lance and I were exposed to the bright harsh bedroom light. I began to blink as my hands instinctively covered up my personal area. This was getting to be a normal thing for me to do, I thought wryly thinking back to Diane a couple of nights before. Standing there, looking at us with a mixture of amusement and horror were Justin and Harris, their hands intertwined, already in a state of undress themselves.

"Stephen? Lance?" Harris cried out, his voice coming out in a strangled gasp as he folded his arms across his bare chest. "What are you doing?"

"Why do we always have to be humiliated like this?" Lance muttered under his breath as he turned his face away from the prying eyes of his bandmate and his boyfriend. I felt terrible for him-- he was the one who was naked, dangling from a pair of unlockable handcuffs, not me. Looking back at Harris and Justin, a flash of anger swept through my body.

"Do you mind?" I hollered as I slammed the closet door shut so that Lance and I were alone once more. Quickly, I dressed myself and then pulled Lance's boxer shorts back over his hips before opening up the closet door once more, finding Harris and Justin sitting next to each other on the waterbed.

"Look, guys--you wouldn't happen to have a key for the handcuffs, would you?" I asked them. They looked at each other with what, at first, looked like concerned expressions, but in reality, they were just trying not to laugh.

"The fur lined ones?" Harris asked, placing a hand over his mouth. "Stephen...we lost the key to those. That's why they were in the bottom of the box." His face twisted into a scowl then, as another thought dawned on him. "And by the way--What the hell are you two doing up here?" Rising from his place on the bed, Harris strode towards me and meeting me so closely, our noses were practically touching. The scent of vodka on his breath nearly knocked me over as he began to scream at me. "I can't believe you two--you just sneak up here and...and..." Harris sputtered uncontrollably, shouting, while a look of anger filled his bloodshot aqua eyes. "And go through our personal stuff...who the hell do you think you are?"

"Harris, I'm sorry," I apologized, backing away from him. He was really mad. And I wondered if it was from us finding the whips and paddles and whatnot, or if it was because we decided to have sex in their closet? Or if it was because we obviously ruined a moment for them? "So is Lance," I continued, changing the subject. "But tell me--how do you get those handcuffs to unlock?"

Harris crossed his arms over his chest again, looking a little pissy as he did this. "Look, Stephen--the only way Justy got the cuffs to unlock was with a safety pin, okay? And I don't think we have one around here." Watching us argue from the bed, Justin wordlessly got up and left the room. Moments later, he returned triumphantly, a safety pin in his hand.

"Cynthia had this in her purse..." Justin explained as he opened it up, exposing the sharp, pointed end to us. "She was trying to pierce her ear a little while ago, before Josh took it away from her." He paused briefly, pursing his lips in thought, before adding, "And then she passed out cold. Josh did too. They're both downstairs right now, pretty much out of it."

"Nice," I remarked, thankful that my cousin wasn't around to see us. I took the safety pin from Justin and gave the younger man a grateful look. Walking back into the closet, where my boyfriend was still hanging from the bar, I gave him a hopeful smile as I flashed the safety pin at him. He tried to smile at me, but the sad expression on his face, nearly broke my heart. Moving closer to him, I scrutinized the one of the locks on the handcuffs and began to jiggle the safety pin around in it. A few seconds later, I heard a click and one of Lance's hands were free.

"Ohhhh," he sighed happily, bringing his arms down. He shook his painfully cramped limbs out, before I worked on freeing his other wrist from the silver restraints. Harris watched us for a few seconds, before giving Lance and I an evil look. He then stomped out of the room, leaving Justin behind. The curly-haired blonde's face was a bright, embarrassed red as he walked over to Lance and I, where we were examining his wrists. He seemed alright. More embarrassed than in pain.

"Look...Lance...don't tell the other guys about what you found in there, okay?" Justin asked softly, trying to avoid his friend's surprised gaze. "I'd uh...rather not want that getting out about us...." Justin cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable knowing that Lance and I had found out about their little fetishes.

"I know," Lance said seriously, as he gave Justin an understanding smile. "Don't worry about it, Just--as long as you don't tell a soul about Stephen and I, okay?"

"Okay," Justin said as brightly as he could, before slinking out of the room. Lance and I looked at each other, grateful looks in both of our eyes at how the situation wound up working out. With that knowledge under our belts and locked safely inside our mind, Lance and I then found the remainder of our clothes and slipped them on. I clipped the safety pin on the bottom of my shirt and with one last look at the room that we had just shared one of our most intimate encounters in, Lance and I walked out of there, ready to head home.

Lance and I drove home in complete silence, mainly because Lance needed to concentrate on his driving so that we wouldn't crash. He was still a little drunk, as was I and I think this was the first time my boyfriend had driven the speed limit, I noted with a smile. Before I knew it, the two of us were sitting in the driveway of his house, attempting to get out of his 4-runner without falling flat on our faces. The effects of the alcohol were hitting me once more. Funny though, when Lance and I were intimate, I had felt completely sober and I could remember every touch, every kiss, every feeling that had coursed through my veins.

Silently, Lance and I entered his house and trudged up the staircase. While Lance walked to his bedroom, I went to the bathroom, did my business and stared into the mirror for a few seconds. I looked terrible, I thought to myself. My eyes were hazy, my hair looked disheveled and my skin was pasty and sickly looking. Not very attractive, I thought with a laugh as I washed my hands and rinsed off my face. Opening the door up, I padded out into the hallway and walked into Lance's room, where I found my boyfriend stripping out of his clothes. His gorgeous body was on full display as he tossed his clothes off to the side, and noticing that I had just entered the room, Lance walked over to me and threw his arms around my neck.

"Hey handsome," Lance giggled, still drunk from that evening's game. "Ready for beddy-bye?"

"Yup," I said as I took off my shirt and slacks. "Ready to hop into bed." And with that, I dove onto the mattress, only to slide right off thanks to the satin sheets that covered it. Staring at the ceiling, my head felt like it was about to fall off, as my mind came to the realization that I had just slid off of Lance's bed.

Peering over the side of it, Lance's eyes examined me as I lay on the floor. "You okay?" he asked with worry. Nodding, I pulled myself off the bed, holding onto Lance's hand for support.

"I'm fine--gotta be careful with those shiny sheets of yours," I laughed as I climbed next to him. Pulling me into his arms, I rested my head on Lance's chest, content to just lie there and listen to his heartbeat and the feeling of his chest rising and falling. His fingers stroked my back for a couple of seconds before Lance looked down at me, affection unmistakably present in those beautiful eyes of his.

"Stephen..." Lance trailed off, looking a little overwhelmed by the events of the night that had passed us. He finally regained the power of speech, and a smile crossed his lips. "I love you."

I allowed the words to hang between us, to let the linger in the night air before answering him. "I love you too, Lance..." I looked up at him and smiled. "And I'm sorry for pulling away from you at the restaurant."

Waving his hand, Lance just made a face at me. "Oh Stephen," he sighed. "I completely forgot about that..." He placed another kiss on my forehead and rested his head against the pillows. Rolling my body completely on top of his, I laid there, resting my weight on him, as I stared deep into his eyes. I examined every inch of his face, before kissing him once more, causing the corners of Lance's mouth to turn up.

Before I knew it, Lance had somehow flipped me over onto my back. He completely took me by surprise, and I stared up at him, wondering why he had just done that to me. I got my answer soon enough...

"Stephen," Lance began slowly, as he reached underneath the pillow that my head was propped on. "Do you trust me?" And with those words, Lance pulled out the same pair of trouble-making handcuffs we had used that night and dangled them in front of my eyes, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he did so.

Any thoughts that had been present in my head, flew out as fast as they had entered while Lance continued to hold those glistening restraints in front of my eyes, waiting for my answer. I didn't have to think twice really...

"Of course I do," I answered truthfully, as Lance wrapped his fingers around one of my wrists and pulled it over my head. Another smile lit up his face as he straddled my waist. I lifted my other arm up, making the job of cuffing me a little easier for him. Leaning back down to kiss me, Lance studied my face once more time, before parting.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Lance asked calmly, despite the excitement in his eyes, as he ran both of his hands down my chest. I shivered under his touch as Lance spoke one last coherent sentence for the final time that evening. "Let's get started..."

Morning. Headache. Hangover. Lance next to me, our legs intertwined. Sunlight beating down on us. My bare skin exposed to the cool morning air. I felt sick, nauseous and ready to puke. But I didn't. Instead, as I opened up my eyes, I turned my head slightly to the right, first seeing the pair of handcuffs sitting on the nightstand, then the digital clock, whose glowing red numbers read 9:35 a.m.

I closed my eyes once more, wanting to fall back into the depths of a peaceful sleep when the phone rang. The loud harsh ringing shook me out of my self-induced slumber, and my eyelids flew open. Lance stirred next to me, opening his eyes and glared at the phone on his nightstand.

"Fuck you," he spat out, as though that would stop the ringing. It didn't. Instead, the phone kept ringing and ringing, waiting to be answered. Rolling his body away from mine, Lance picked up the cordless phone off its base, hit a button and placed it next to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked groggily. "Who is this??? Oh...Uncle Jeff...hi...." Lance woke up a little more then, sitting straight up in bed and ran a hand through his two-toned hair. "Yeah...you woke me up--that's okay..." Listening for a few more seconds, Lance turned a surprised gaze to me.

"You wanna talk to Stephen?" he asked, now fully awake. "Alright...hold on." Placing his hand over the mouthpiece, Lance handed the telephone to me. "It's Uncle Jeff...and he wants to talk to you."

Dipping my eyebrows at him, I placed the phone next to my ear. "Hello?" I croaked out, my throat sounding like I had a sore throat. "Jeff?"

"Yes, Stephen," he answered, his voice sounding a little stiff. He sounded strange. Not at all like the friendly, compassionate person that I had met back in Mississippi. And that scared me a little. I didn't want to hear that. "Hi, how have you been?"

"I'm okay," I lied, thinking that saying, `No, I feel like I'm about to die' wouldn't be very appropriate. "What's up?"

"Stephen...I know it's early in the morning, but I wanted to call you as soon as I got to my office. I talked to Mr. Weinstein last night--the lawyer that handled your mother's case."

Immediately, I felt a sense of dread fill my stomach. That was the last thing I wanted to talk about now. Not after Lance and I had such a passionate night together. Looking down at my wrists, I noticed the slight redness around their circumference. But then, what I had I expected to talk about when Jeff called? Sports? The weather? Of course the topic of the conversation would be my mother's death.

"Yes," I said, pulling the satin sheet past my legs and over my waist. I was a little cold, not sure if that feeling was from the Florida air or from the phone call.

"Well, Stephen..I've looked over your mother's autopsy reports. When she died, it turns out that her bloodstream was filled with all sorts of drugs. The coroner has here that your mother could have possibly killed herself as a reaction of all the different prescriptions in her body--she may not have even known what she was doing at that particular moment. I tried to get into contact with the doctor who wrote out these prescriptions for her, Stephen but..." Jeff let out a forlorn sigh. "It turns out he's currently the target of a huge malpractice suit right now, which doesn't really surprise me at all."

I felt as though someone had slammed in my head with a sledgehammer. She may not have even known what she was doing? What? Did that mean...no, it couldn't have meant that... did it?

"Anyways, I talked to Mr.Weinstein and gave him this information. Stephen...we reviewed your whole case. It looks as though when your mother came in to change her will two days before her death, she was not of sound mind...according to the autopsy report, the drugs in her body had built up for about a week prior to her death." Jeff took a much needed breath before continuing. I felt as though my chest was about to cave in, and unconsciously, I reached out for Lance's hand, only to find that he was reaching for me first. He must have noticed the shocked look on my face, as he crawled over, sitting closely next to me. He wanted to be there for me, I noted gratefully.

"Go on," I said slowly, waiting to hear Jeff's words.

"Stephen..." Jeff began. "We have to revert back to the old version of your mother's will. The new will was rendered null and void....that means, if we follow the old version, you get around one-third of your mother's estate. Roughly..." I heard Jeff punching in numbers on a calculator. "Three hundred thousand dollars--as well as possession of the house."

"What?" I asked, my voice sounding as though I had died. "You're joking right?"

"No, Stephen," Jeff said, slightly amused by my disbelief. "I'm not kidding you. You're really entitled to it." I'm not sure how the conversation ended after that, but all I know is that when I hung up the phone, I passed it back to Lance and just sat there, unable to speak, unable to move.

"Stephen?" Lance asked tentatively, almost afraid to ask me a question. "What happened? Is it about the will?"

"Yes," I finally answered him, not sure what to say. "Lance...my mother. You know the medication she was on?" I turned to him, and saw the look of understanding in his eyes.

"Yeah, I remember," he said evenly. "What about?"

"It turns out that when she drew up the new will, she wasn't of sound body and mind...it was voided out and the lawyer had to go back to the old will." I paused for a second, not meeting Lance's eyes. "I wind up getting around three hundred thousand dollars."

My boyfriend's eyes grew wide. Wider than I had ever seen them before. "Oh my God...Stephen...that means you get the money...do you get to keep your house?" Not bothering to answer him, I just nodded my head silently, causing Lance to whoop loudly.

"That's awesome! Stephen it's only fair..." Noticing my melancholy expression, Lance peered at me closely. "What's wrong?" I stared at him for a couple of seconds, not wanting to answer him. Because I knew that if I spoke, I would cry. And that's exactly what I did.

Lance watched as the tears rolled out of my eyes, thinking that the wetness falling fast and furious from my eyes were tears of happiness. They weren't. It was a funny feeling--I had wanted this to happen with my mother's will. I had wanted to find out that there was some sort of loophole and there was. It seemed almost too easy...and yet, the words that Jeff had spoken had disturbed me greatly. Maybe she had been so doped up on her medication, she hadn't known that she slit her own wrists? Maybe it hadn't been all my fault after all...there were so many questions that would remain unanswered forever...

"Stephen?" Lance asked softly, noticing that there was no happiness on my face. "Are you alright?" I shook my head, wiping the tears that fell from my eyes. And suddenly the answer was so simple. I looked up at him, my brown eyes meeting Lance's.

"Lance," I whispered. "I want my mother...I....I miss her so much..." And then I finally broke down, crying madly, not able to hold back any longer. I longed for something that I could never have again and maybe that hurt even more than anything else I had ever felt in my life. The emptiness that my mother's death left in me was overwhelming. I had tried to fill it up with sex...Lance...and that hadn't worked. Brilliant plan, huh?

I felt Lance's arms wrap around me, pulling me in tightly as he just held on to me for dear life and I could tell that he was unsure of what to do for me. All he knew was that he wanted to hold me, comfort me and make me feel better. That was his job. To be there for me.

"It's okay, Stephen," I heard him whisper as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "It's gonna be okay....everything's gonna be alright..." As he held onto me, rocking me gently in his arms, one question hung in my mind, refusing to leave...

Was it really going to be alright? Was it?

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