My Surprise Romance

Hi y'all!

It's me again....again. And back with another installment of MSR.

There are some author's notes at the bottom. I'm gonna let you enjoy the story first :)

As usual, thank you to everyone (the few and far between) who wrote me about the last installment. If I haven't gotten back to you yet, trust me, I will :) I've just become ungodly busy lately and can barely breathe.

For those of you who give a damn :) I got an 80 on my bio test, one of my posters was picked to be reprinted at school and MSR won an *NSYNC Fabrication award (Best Lance story! Yippie! So did Dale of Lottery Winner--go read his story once you're done with mine...and The Prep Meets the Pop Star...and Sentimental Journey...plus a ton of others that I can't remember now)

Once again, I'd like to thank the people who keep reading and sending me mail. Damon, Ethan are just two of the names that are popping into my caffeine addled brain. Khiemy....I'm still alive...just busy and I got your mail. =)

One last thing here: A big thank you to four special people. Killian who've I've been ignoring lately with my emails (sorry honey!), John, my #1 hubby!!! Val...God, what would I do without you sweetie? Thanks for being here when I need you. And of course, Justin. My mentor and muse...thank you for being there for me whenever I needed you. I love you. Thanks.

And of course, http://sweetheart.homepage.com -- Go, go go! There's a picture of Stephen's new body art on it :)

And now...the DISCLAIMER: Blah, blah, blah...you gotta be 21 or something like that. M/M relations. Not implying that Lance is gay, nor Justin. Got it? Good. Don't sue me. And now...

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 48

I Didn't Know You Cared

I remember when there was a time in my life when I was completely miserable. My downfall had occurred a couple of years ago when I was fresh out of high school. I was lonely. The friends I had were few and far between and to top off all matters, I knew I was gay. But I kept my mouth shut (except to Cynthia, who kept it under lock and key unless she wanted to die a quick and horrible death). The few `crushes' I had on other people of my gender were kept hidden from knowledge (except when Cynthia could decode them of course)...

It was during that time period that I also had my first, true dalliance with, um, shall we say...uncontrollable urges? You know what I'm talking about (you're not stupid--if you were, you wouldn't have stuck with me for this long). And of course these urges just happened to coincide with my awkward stage. I used to be filled with so much sexual longing, that I seriously considered to seek out the services of someone that would `help' me out. I mean, downtown Ridgemont was only a few minutes away and I could have easily found something...someone...there...

I didn't do that of course, but the thought had always lingered in my mind like the smoke that curls around a stubbed out cigarette. Sometimes those thoughts would fill me up with a healthy amount of Catholic guilt (ha ha, funny huh? Especially when homosexuals are still frowned upon by the church--shouldn't I be filled with guilt 24-7?). And sometimes I'd be filled with pride--proud that I, Stephen Peterson, would have even thought about something like that, since it was so out of character for me....

And now that I lay in Lance's bed, I realized how sad I was back then. How confused and fucked up was I. To me, the idea of sex without love was wrong in itself. There was no way I could have gone through with the whole prostitute idea, simply because of the morals I had embraced. And thank God for that, because now, I was happy. Disgustingly so. No one except Lance could have made me feel like this.

Oh, I'm sure that I would have met someone like him soon enough, but right now, no one could have filled the spot that Lance took up in my life. It just wasn't imaginable...

As these thoughts ran through my head, I let out a sigh that could have been audible all the way back home. I turned my head to see Lance's reaction, only to find that his body wasn't lying next to mine. Instead, a sheet of white loose leaf paper lay in his place. Looking at it curiously, I picked it up and my eyes traveled over Lance's scribbly handwriting that had become so familiar to me.

S,', it read ,the blue letters looping into each other. I let you sleep some more...we had a rough night smile I went out to get lunch for us--I'll be back soon. I love you. Love, L.' Smiling at the words that the ink had left behind, I knew that they came from Lance's heart. My eyes continued to run over the words, as I read the p.s. at the end of the note: `You're beautiful when you're asleep.'

As my eyes scanned over this last line, I felt something in my heart snap. It was things like that which confirmed the fact that Lance was the one. I knew it. My gut told me. My heart told me. Every bone in my body knew it. `You're beautiful when you're asleep'. The idea that my boyfriend had been examining me when I was sleeping sent shivers down my spine, and another happy sigh left my lips.

Not wanting to spend all morning in bed, I decided to get myself up and maybe take a shower before Lance got back. Despite the good feelings that were running through me, nothing could take away the hungover feeling that I had. Still clutching the slip of paper in my hands, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and placed the soles of my feet on the ground. The thick carpet underneath them felt a little comforting, but not that comforting. As I stood up, my head felt like it was spinning around wildly. I licked my dry lips and felt as though someone had thrown a ton of sand into my mouth. I ached all over...I felt hungover...because I was...

Once I had steadied myself, I searched the floor underneath me to find some article of clothing. I hated being naked, except of course, when Lance was around. Then I didn't mind my nudity so much. But without Lance? Blech. My body was something that I'd rather not look at. I felt way too skinny and weird, bony in some places, too fleshy in others . You'd think after 21 years in the same body, I'd become accustomed to my skin, but nope...

I finally found a pair of boxer shorts on the floor, picked them up and pulled them over my hips. Immediately, I felt better and I began to make my way to the bathroom so I could splash my face with some cold water. Slowly making my way out of his bedroom, I soon found myself face to face with Lance, as he walked into the room.

"Hey," Lance said, his eyes lighting up as I nearly bumped into him. "Where do you think you're going?" After saying this, he greeted me with a rather amorous good morning kiss and I felt my knees grow weaker as the seconds ticked by. Lance's kisses always did that to me... always...

"Bathroom," I murmured once we parted, wrapping my arms around his waist, careful not to disturb the white paper bag in his hands. "I have to go..."

"Well, get back here soon," Lance said before kissing me again.

"Why? So we can eat?"

Rolling his eyes at me, Lance gave me another happy smile as his eyes ran slowly over my body, sending shivers through me. "No, silly--because I miss you." Not letting me out of his grasp, Lance pulled me closer to him. "And you know what Stephen..." His eyes slowly trailed past my waist. "You're wearing my boxers."

"Really?" I asked blankly, as I looked down at myself. In my haste to get dressed, I hadn't noticed what pair of underwear I had put on. I chuckled at the sight of myself dressed in Lance's boxers. I don't know why I found that so funny, but I did.

"Ooh, don't tell me you're not wearing any underwear?" My words were hopeful as I met Lance's eyes. Holding my gaze deftly, Lance's poker face finally crumpled as he burst out laughing.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I noticed how deep and seductive his voice sounded as he giggled, and another blush fell across my face. Lance reached up to trace a path down my cheek as his laughs subsided and he continued on with his thoughts. "But the answer is no....I am wearing a pair of boxers....I took a shower before I left, you know!" Leaning closer to me, Lance stretched his neck out, so I could sniff at it. "Can't you tell? I'm wearing cologne and everything..."

I deeply inhaled the spicy scent that graced my boyfriend's neck and blushed at the reaction that my body had. The smell of Lance's skin and his cologne mixed together, made me dizzier than I already felt. He smelled wonderful...and my own skin tingled at the idea that only hours before, Lance's body had been pressed against mine, holding me...I could barely stand it...I had to change the subject.

"Aww, you took a shower without me?" I protested, sticking my lower lip out into a unhappy pout. "Oh, you're no fun anymore."

Lance remained silent for a minute, a half embarrassed, half devilish look appearing in his eyes as he paused in thought. "Stephen..." he began slowly. "There was....stuff in my hair...I couldn't go out looking like that."

It took me a few seconds to get the full effect of what Lance meant. And when I did get it, I let out a laugh that nearly shattered the windows. Obviously, my laughter was contagious because Lance began to laugh like a maniac as well. We stood there for a few seconds, until we were just staring into each other's eyes, a feeling of serenity overcoming our goofiness. Leaning over, Lance placed a soft kiss on my lips, causing my eyes to close allowing me to fall into the moment.

"Nice," I heard him whisper once we parted. "Now go to the bathroom and get back here as soon as you can." Punctuating his words, Lance gently slapped me on my ass and gave me a push towards the door. Laughing, I disentangled myself from his embrace and began to hurriedly walk to the bathroom. I felt good and I was almost feeling like my old self.

Almost.

A few minutes later, Lance and I were downstairs sitting at the kitchen table. We had tried to have a picnic in Lance's bed when I returned from the bathroom, but as we soon found out, that was impossible to do. First off, the bed is not a good place to set down drinks. Cups of coffee do not stay still on a mattress. Second of all, I found that whenever Lance got into a bed with me, eating food was the last thing on my mind...there were yummier things that I would have rather had in my mouth...

So we sat there at his spacious kitchen table, eating the lunch that Lance had bought us. There was a nice array of fancy sandwiches and and various sliced fruits drowning in a syrupy sugar sauce. But the kicker was the desert that Lance had picked up: two huge slices of vanilla cake with strawberry filling, topped off with a thick layer of buttercream frosting. I stared at the pieces of cake for what seemed like forever until Lance caught me looking at the desert.

"Hey," Lance said as he shoved a forkful of fruit into his mouth. He chomped on that for a few seconds before swallowing it, and tapped me on the arm with his fork. "You okay there?" He looked at me with a goofy grin on his face. "What's wrong Stephen? You want desert first?"

"No," I smirked. "I had my desert last night..." Reaching over, I ran the prongs of my fork up and down Lance's arm, causing him to shiver slightly at the touch of the cool metal. "It's just that...this is the exact cake that I make Natalie for her birthday every year..."

"Huh?" Lance asked, not getting what I was talking about. "You make cakes?"

"No...I mean, yeah...I just mean...this is the cake--vanilla with strawberry filling. I make it for Nat every year..." I told him a bit mystified at the coincidence. "It's just weird that you would buy it. Did I tell you that I make Natalie that?"

Lance stared at me, his green eyes wide with awe. "Nope...not at all." He looked over at the slices of cake that sat on the table. "Wow...you know what that means, Stephen?"

"What?" I asked curiously as I picked up my sandwich and took a bite of it. Chomping on the mixture of bread and cold cuts, I waited for Lance's answer.

"It just means that I'm a psychic," Lance quipped as he leaned over in his chair towards me, a cocky grin on his face. "Does that bother you, Stephen?"

"No," I laughed as Lance's mouth drew closer to mine. I chewed quickly on my sandwich and swallowed it. "It just means that you know everything I think, all the time, every minute of the day."

"Yeah," Lance laughed, leaning closer so that our lips were only inches apart. "That means you better be thinking of me twenty-four hours a day, Mr. Peterson. I don't want you thinking of anyone else." Before I could come up with a comeback, Lance silenced me, by placing a rather passionate kiss on my lips and I could taste the remnants of the sticky liquid that the fruit had been floating in.

"Mmmm," I sighed dreamily as we pulled away from each other, satiated grins on our faces. "Keep kissing me like that and I'll think of you for eternity..."

"That's what I like to hear," Lance giggled as he settled himself back in his chair. Just as he was about to say something else, the cordless phone sitting next to him began to ring.

"Oh no," he muttered, staring at the telephone like it was poison. "I don't even want to know who that is..." Picking it up as though it were on fire, Lance hit the button that switched it on and held it up to his ear. "Hello?" I watched his face turn from happy to disgusted in a blink of an eye. At first I thought it was Cynthia--or Josh or Justin or someone from the group. But as I kept listening, I learned it wasn't.

"Hey Johnny...yeah long time no hear..." Lance leaned his head in one of his hands and tried to stifle the sigh that desperately wanted to leave his lips. "Uh-huh...Johnny, I know that there are interviews and stuff, but this is my vacation from it all..." Lance sighed as he shot a sad, puppy dog eyed look in my direction. "I know..."

Using my keen sense of intuition as well as good old fashioned guessing tactics, I assumed that Johnny was Johnny Wright, the band's manager and judging from the conversation, the party for Lance and I would be over soon....that thought was more depressing than anything else.

"Johnny, look--give me five more days...I have to head up to Wisconsin at the end of the week...and then I'll be back doing promotions and interviews and whatever else you want me to do...I just need five more days..." Lance drummed his fingertips on the formica tabletop and rolled his eyes in dread while I continued to listen to the one-sided conversation.

"Please...no it doesn't have to do anything with Stephen...and wait--" Lance flashed a worried look at me. He had never told Johnny that he was gay, nor did he tell him that he now had a boyfriend. "How do you know about him? I never mentioned him to you..." Lance rolled his eyes again as the mystery was solved. "Oh...Marshall...yeah..."

Groaning, I buried my face in my hands. Another person to have found out about Lance and I. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Is nothing secret or sacred anymore?

"Lance," I hissed, tugging on the sleeve of his t-shirt. "Is everything okay?" Shrugging my hold off of him, Lance motioned for me to grab him the notepad that sat on the countertop.

"Okay, okay...August 11, Planet Hollywood party...August 17 and 18....TRL...for FreeLance...got that....I know, Johnny...I will be there." Lance rolled his eyes once more. "And I won't miss another interview...I promise..." The serious, business-minded expression on my boyfriends's face suddenly switched, as a happy, goofy grin crossed his lips. "Yeah...and thanks, Johnny. Thanks for understanding...I'll see you around. Bye." And with that, Lance hit the `off' button on the phone and placed it back down on the table next to him.

"Ugh," Lance moaned as his face dropped to meet the tabletop. "Ugh, ugh, ugh..." Now there was one of two things I could have done at that moment. Either I could have bitched and moaned with Lance, or I could just take it with a grain of salt. Sensing that the latter would have to do, I just smiled.

"What?" I asked, my voice light as I reached out to run my fingers over his back. "Does my poor baby have to go back to the real world of being a pop star??? All that glitz and glamour?? All of those interviews and concerts that you get paid millions of dollars for? Life sucks that bad, huh??" My teasing must have worked, because Lance picked his head off the table, and as much as he wanted to scowl at me, he just couldn't bring himself to do so.

"Ha ha ha....very funny, Stephen...look at this..." Lance said, shaking his head as he pointed to the notepad in front of him. His demeanor shifted gears once more as a sad sigh escaped his lips. Reaching over and placing his hand on top of mine, Lance twisted his face up into a frown. "And just so you know--Marshall told Johnny about...us."

"I figured that out," I told Lance, as his fingers closed tightly around mine. "And what did he have to say? Did he kick you out of the band? My guess is no..."

"Very good, Stephen," Lance smiled. "Johnny said that he didn't care about my sexuality one way or another," His face lit up like a Christmas tree thinking about his managers acceptance of him "And that he bitched out Marshall for his rudeness....and then he wished me and you the best of luck." Lance paused thoughtfully before finishing off the thoughts that jumbled his mind. "And he wants to meet you soon."

"Great," I grinned happily as Lance looked over the appearance list in front of him. "I'm glad that he understood."

"Yeah, you're telling me," Lance said relief in his voice, as he got up from the table and walked over to the sink. "But you know what this means?"

"What?" I asked as I leaned back in my chair and speared a slice of fruit from the plastic container in front of me. "What does it mean, Lance? Tell me, o wise one," I said mockingly, turning around in my chair and bowing to him. I waited to see the reaction that would get from my boyfriend. Lance let out a deep laugh at my silly actions and ran a hand through his attractively mussed up hair.

"Wise one, eh?" he laughed casually as he walked back to the table, glass of water in hand. Raising one of his perfectly arched eyebrows at me, his lips curved upwards, revealing his beautiful smile. "Sounds like someone has to get down on his knees and start worshiping me."

"Worship?" I asked, a mischievous grin forming on my lips, as Lance sat back down and immediately fastened his hand to my kneecap, slowly moving it around in circles, knowing the effect it was having on me. "That sounds awfully good to me...but first, I wanna know what you were gonna say."

"Say?" Lance asked, cluelessness swimming in his eyes as his mind reeled back to his past thoughts. "Oh, yeah, I was gonna say, `You know what this means?'"

"What does it mean, Lance?"

"Well, both of these appearances means that the amount of time we have together just decreased." Another depressed sigh escaped his lips, while his touch present on my kneecap grew heavier and heavier, driving me insane. A smile flickered across his face as he noticed the distracted look on my face.

"But," he added quickly. "That doesn't mean we can't have fun in the meantime--" Noticing the hopeful expression that appeared on my face, Lance just let out a laugh that reminded me of the ringing of church bells. I don't know why--it was just special to hear him laugh..."Not that kind of fun--although I am hoping there will be some more of that...no Stephen, I mean..." He trailed his words off slightly before picking up his train of thought once more. "I want to go out--have a good time. Just so we can say that we actually enjoyed ourselves on our vacation, you know?"

I nodded as I examined the gloomy look that suddenly overcame his eyes. I wasn't sure if he was just upset that Johnny had called him with a new list of commitments, or because he felt like I was holding him back. The latter thought killed me...I didn't want Lance to be unhappy...I hoped that he wasn't ruining his life just because of me. But the way he said his words--that was what worried me the most: `I want to go out--have a good time..'

Lance must have sensed my discomfort, because he scooted his chair closer to mine, removing his hand from my kneecap in the process. "Stephen, it's not that I'm miserable...I just want to get out and explore the world." The words caught slightly in his throat as his face crumpled into an expression of regret. "God, that sounded corny, didn't it?"

"No," I answered truthfully. "We've been spending all this time wrapped up in each other--I think we've kinda forgotten what the real world is like...right?"

"Right," Lance agreed, looking relieved that I had understood what he was trying to get at. "So what do you say? Let's eat lunch and then get out there." He motioned to the outside with his hand, staring at me, as he waited for my response.

"Sounds great," I smiled as I tapped my fork against my container of fruit. "But Lance, can I ask you something?"

"What?" Another worried look crossed my boyfriend's face. "What's wrong, Stephen?"

"When do I get the chance to get on my knees and worship you?" I asked innocently, allowing my eyes to grow round as the question lingered in the air between us. A smile appeared on his lips, and Lance leaned over, moving his face inches from mine.

"Be a good boy, Stephen," Lance whispered huskily, his breath tickling my skin. "And later tonight, you can worship me all you want." And with those words, Lance brushed his lips softly against mine, causing any amount of sanity that I had left to fly out of the window...

As Lance and I drove along in the bright Florida sunshine, I couldn't help but ask myself `What were we going to do?' I mean, I know that Lance and I didn't care where we went as long as we were together, but where were we really gonna go? Or hang out? I mean, your talking about a person who's idea of a good time is to be locked up in his painting studio and laboring over some new canvas. But that was the old Stephen. The new one...he just wanted to lay around with his boyfriend and do nothing...

The question was quickly answered as Lance and I started off our afternoon by walking around town, hitting these little, quirky boutiques and shops along a strip of the Orlando boardwalk. Lance had managed to disguise himself by wearing one of his many big, floppy fisherman hats and a pair of dark sunglasses. Not very original, but you'd be surprised how many giggly teenie girls passed Lance by without a second glance.

After that, Lance and I went to have drinks at this outdoor cafe, where once again, no one noticed us. And I have to admit--it was wonderful to sit there in public with my boyfriend, not even being noticed by the people that passed back and forth. Lance and I sat a good distance away from each other, so no one would suspect that we were a couple (obviously groping each other right then would NOT have been a good idea), although I would feel Lance's foot occasionally hit mine. When I'd look up at him, Lance would just give me a shy, toothy grin, knowing that he had got my attention. I couldn't help but smile back...I was just so...happy....

But I'd be happier if I didn't have a monkey on my back...

That's right. The phone call from that morning had been haunting my mind all morning. It nagged at me like the spare change burning a hole in a shopaholic's pocket. I hated it...I just wanted to be free of the whole ordeal that I had gone through...

And now, I had this on my mind.

Lance and I were still frequenting the outdoor cafe, and from behind my plain, gray tinted sunglasses, I peered at Lance. He was staring intently as his iced coffee, sloshing the liquid around in the glass, watching as it coated the sides before sliding back down once more. I needed to talk to him. As much as I didn't want to ruin his afternoon, I needed to talk to him because that was the only thing that would soothe my soul.

"James?" I asked quietly. I had been using his real name all afternoon, so that no one would hear me call him Lance. Someone might have heard and realized that the handsome man hidden by the disguise was Lance Bass of `N Sync. And neither of us needed that.

"Yes?" he asked as he broke his hypnotic gaze away from his drink. Giving me a smile, Lance set the cup down on the frosted glass table and folded his hands casually in his lap. God, I wished I could have looked into his eyes then, instead of looking into tinted, mirrored glass and seeing my own reflection, but that was life. Oh well...

"I need to talk to you. About the phone call this morning."

I saw a frown briefly cross my boyfriend's face as I mentioned this and I couldn't blame him for being a little upset. Why the hell would I bring this up now? We had such a good time before, dodging in and out of those tacky little gift stores, laughing at the novelty items that made us burst into peals of laughter, causing the salesclerks to look at us strangely. We laughed everytime a store carried some of `N Sync's somewhat lame merchandise. I mean, really...who would want a lip balm with a picture of Lance on it? But more importantly, why would I want to ruin such a perfect afternoon by dragging my mother into it? Well I had my reasons...

"Yes?" Lance asked suspiciously, as he peered at me over the top of his sunglasses. "What's wrong, Stephen?" I avoided his gaze for a couple of seconds, choosing to watch the people surrounding us instead. When I had enough of that, I turned back to Lance, who was still staring at me intently, wanting me to continue with what I was about to say.

"I was thinking..." I began slowly, twiddling my thumbs in my lap. "I mean, about what your Uncle said this morning. My mother's will and how I get the house and one-third of everything..."

"Yeah?" Lance asked, looking at me seriously. "What about?"

"I was thinking that when I go back home, I'm gonna get my own apartment..." I trailed off, averting my eyes from Lance's. When I did garner enough nerve to look back at him, I found that he had removed his protective sunglasses and was now staring at me with a look I had never seen before.

"What?" I asked defensively, rendered uncomfortable from Lance's intense gaze. "What's wrong?" I shifted in my seat, when it hit me that he had taken his glasses off. I began to panic inwardly, hoping that no one was watching us. The last thing I wanted was crazed 12 year old girls wanting a chunk of Lance to take home with them.

"James," I hissed under my breath, so I wouldn't draw attention to us. "Put those back on."

Lance complied with my request, but I could tell that he was still staring at me in disbelief. "Stephen--why? After you fought for the house--you wanna sell it now?" He shook his head slightly, trying to comprehend with what I was getting at. "Maybe if you explain why, I'll understand better."

"Yeah," I agreed, reaching out for my iced mochachino. I took a long sip before speaking once more. "Well, I was thinking this morning...do I really want to go back to my house? And, La--I mean, James," I said slyly, grateful that I had caught my slip up before someone around us had heard (how many guys do you know named Lance?). "The answer is no."

"No?" Lance repeated, shifting his seat closer to mine. His voice had dropped a little, so that eavesdroppers around us couldn't hear one word of our conversation. "Why not, Stephen? I mean, you'll have a home paid in full--the only thing that you'll have to worry about is utilities and stuff, right?"

"Yeah," I said, tracing my finger around the puddle of condensation that had formed underneath the glass. "But the idea of going back to a place where my mother took her own life?" My voice had taken on a whispered tone. "I can't. I just can't...so I decided that when I get back to New York--and that will be soon enough--I'm gonna call a real estate agent and have them sell the house for me."

"You're serious, aren't you?" Lance asked, his voice filled with a bit of apprehension. "Really serious." Nodding, I took a huge noisy slurp of my mochachino to punctuate my words. I was serious. Dead serious. It was time for me to move on with my life and this was the first step towards it.

"James...there's no way I can go back there...old ghosts..." I mumbled under my breath, looking down at my lap. I stared at the lower half of my body for a few seconds, focusing in on my legs. I had funny looking legs, I observed while my mind drifted away from the subject matter on hand. And then I when I realized my mind had floated off to ga-ga land, I looked back up, meeting Lance's eyes once more and what I saw nearly knocked me out of my chair.

He had removed his sunglasses again, which as I noticed, didn't really matter, since a lot of the people that had surrounded us at first, were now gone. But what took my breath away was the sheer amount of caring and understanding that was present in those amazing eyes. As our gazes locked together, I could tell that he knew. He knew what I meant when I said I couldn't go back. He understood and he cared. And that was what mattered most to me.

"Stephen," Lance said slowly, as he reached over to gingerly brush his fingertips against my wrist, before pulling back. "It's okay with me...I'm glad that you decided to confide in me. You know..." he trailed off while flashing an exuberant grin. "I'll even help you move out--and even find a new place if you want to." Leaning over slightly, Lance whispered the next words so that they were audible only between us. "Just make sure that there's enough room for a huge bed--and while you're at it, get a mirror on the ceiling as well."

I felt a flaming blush climb up my neck and onto my face as Lance settled back in his seat, a self-satisfied smirk on those cute little lips of his. He knew that what he said would embarrass me and judging from the smirky expression on his face, Lance was proud of it. And as much as I wanted to strangle him, I also wanted to lean over and kiss Lance. I just wanted to show him how much I cared for him at that particular moment....damn America and their values of what's considered normal. If it weren't so weird for men to kiss each other, I would have been all over Lance like white on rice.

But I couldn't and I knew it. Before I could say another word, Lance had slipped the sunglasses back on and took the final sip of his coffee. "Well, Stephen," Lance said slowly, as he placed the empty cup back down on the table. "Where to next?"

"No idea," I said as I reached for my wallet in the back pocket of my shorts. "But I'll pay for this...." As my fingers fumbled through the green bills that lay in the folds of the leather wallet, my skin came in contact with a photograph. Curious to what it was, I pulled it out, looked at it and immediately, I felt a smile cross my lips.

It was a picture of Lance, Natalie, Angela, Beth and I, taken the very first night I had met him. I had completely forgotten about it--it was taken by the photographer that worked for the concert venue. Lance and I were standing there, next to each other, his hands gently resting on my sister's shoulders. As I continued to examine the picture, I noticed that Lance's eyes, though trying their best to look into the camera, were shifted over to where I was standing.

"What are you looking at Stephen?" Lance asked playfully, as he watched the smile playing on my lips. "Come on...share..."

"It's this picture of you and me--"

"Oh no!" Lance growled, shaking his head. "Not that picture! I thought I packed that away in my bags so no one would find it!" My mind remained boggled, until I realized that Lance was talking about the picture that his father found. The picture that revealed Lance's sexuality to his father. How a simple picture could carry so much weight--luckily, this wasn't one of those...

"No, silly," I said, tapping him lightly, though lovingly on his head, my fingers coming into contact with his soft, spiky blonde hair. "This picture of you, me and Natalie taken the first night that we met." My words had softened automatically at the end of my sentence and I couldn't help but kick Lance under the table. I had to. It was an automatic reaction to the closeness I suddenly desired.

Lance kicked me back as he plucked the photo out of my fingertips. "You know," he said, shaking his head. "I completely forgot about this picture... " A happy smile flashed on his lips. "Awww, Stephen--you mean you carry this around with you?"

I felt another blush creep across my face. "Yeah...I guess I do...but," I allowed my voice to take on a haughty tone. "Only for Natalie--and not for that weirdo in back of her," I teased him. I could tell that behind those glasses, Lance rolled his eyes and let a little groan escape his mouth.

"Weirdo!" Lance exclaimed, trying to sound offended. His voice took on a seductive tone as both of us began to get up from our seats. "I told you Stephen...in order to worship me later tonight, you have to be good." Pushing his chair in, Lance took this opportunity to move his lips towards my ear. "But I guess I can handle you if you've been bad as well."

I felt a strange heat rush throughout the veins in my body, unable to control the desire that pumped through my blood. `Thanks, Lance,' I thought pointedly as I walked up to the cashier to pay for our drinks, trying to shuffle my feet so that the blood madly rushing to a certain area of my body would go elsewhere. While I did this, I noticed that Lance was milling around in back of me, examining our surroundings.

I tilted my face up to the sun, while the cashier rang up our order. I paid her and while I waited for her to make change, I realized my life was slowly beginning to fall back into place. Past regrets were slipping out of my mind. My future plans were slowly starting to take shape....still, things were nagging inside of me, and since I didn't feel like dealing with them, I pushed them away, determined to just let loose and kick back this afternoon.

As the cashier counted my change back to me, and I placed it back in my wallet, a hand suddenly wrapped itself around my arm. Saying a hasty "thank you and have a good day" to the cashier, I looked over to see Lance pulling me towards the direction of a photo booth, a devilish smile playing on his lips.

"Come on," Lance laughed as he pulled me into the small, secluded booth, and away from prying eyes. "I want some pictures to remember this day with you, Mr. Peterson..." Leaning out to insert a dollar in the slot outside, Lance quickly ducked back into the booth with me and waited for the camera to start clicking away.

Click. Lance and I laughing like fools.

Click. Lance and I choking each other in mock annoyance.

Click. Lance and I perfectly poised and smiling at the camera.

Click. Lance and I kissing. It was a simple kiss...but sometimes, simple kisses are the best, don't you think? In that one kiss, so much was relayed to each other...the love and desire that we felt for each other, as well as the understanding and need. As we parted and the camera shut down, a strip of photos came whirring out of a slot inside the booth. While we waited for them to develop, Lance and I stared at each other for God only knows how long, bathed in a magical silence. That moment, that particular moment was so wonderful....I can't even relay it into words. I just know how it felt to me, and how lost in the moment I became.

"Stephen," Lance whispered, his eyes clearly mesmerized as he reached up to trace a finger down my cheekbone. "Seeing that picture of you and me...the one in your wallet...it brings back so many memories. I want you to know that..."

"Really?" I asked, a little breathless as his hand worked it's way to the nape of my neck, massaging the skin there in small, smooth circles.

"Yup--Stephen..." Lance murmured shyly, briefly shifting his gaze downwards before looking at me once more. "When I met you, I knew you were the one....when you walked into that room..." He hesitated with his words before finally gathering the courage to continue. " My body knew it, my mind knew it...I knew I was going to fall in love with you..." Brushing his lips softly against my earlobe, he continued. "I want you to know that everyday I wake up, I look over and watch you sleep and at that moment--" His deep voice faltered out on him, eyes slowly filling up with tears as he managed to choke out the next words. "--I thank God that I met you."

I felt tears spring to my eyes as Lance's hand dropped down to grasp mine. "I love you, Stephen," Lance whispered, looking overwhelmed at the feelings that were running through his mind. "More than anything else in the world...I want you to know it."

"I know you do...Lance...I love you too. I love you..." I trailed off, blinking rapidly to hold my tears back. His words...Lance's words...they were perfect. They summarized everything that I felt inside of me. How could he nail them so perfectly? So perfect, that the world could have ended then and I wouldn't have cared. I was loved...and by a person that I loved back with my whole heart and soul. At that moment, I had reached nirvana and I never wanted to come back down from it...

And then we kissed once more, not wanting this moment between us to ever end...

"So what do you wanna do next?"

"How `bout a club?"

The sound of a pair of shoulders shrugging.

"Okay."

And so Lance and I hit the dance clubs, and as much as I usually disliked them, this time I actually wanted to go to one. I wanted to get out, mingle with other people--maybe even dance a little, even though I dance terribly and look as though I'm having a seizure, instead of moving to the music. But that was okay--as long as Lance could overlook that part of me, I could overlook it as well.

Once Lance and I arrived at some hip, trendy club, we were automatically rushed inside. Grinning at me, Lance gave me the thumbs up at the preferred treatment, and as we entered inside, I felt a seed of agitation grow in my stomach. People. Lots of people. Some drunk. Some stoned off their asses. Some both. I mean, it was a club. And thankfully, during the time I had spent with Lance, the only thing we had done was gotten shit-faced drunk. Big deal, I thought as we walked up to the bar and ordered ourselves some drinks (a gin and tonic for him, a vodka on the rocks for me). I looked around, thinking how ironic it would be if I saw one of the other `N Syncer's here...

And as though my thoughts were magically granted to come true by some club-going fairy godmother, who else would float past me but my very own cousin, dressed to the nines in a silver halter dress, her bobbed hair pulled into an upswept style.

"Stevie?" she screamed over the loud, pulsing techno beats that were rapidly giving me a headache. Looking at Cynthia, I noticed that her eyes were shining and not just because of the sparkly glitter that she had applied around them. She was as high as a kite...Lord...what the hell had she taken?

"Cynth?" I asked cautiously as he eyes were practically pinballing around in her head. "Are you alright? Are you here with Josh?"

"Of course!" she exclaimed, exerting a high pitched giggle as she said this. It took all of my composure not to pick up my cousin, throw her over my shoulder and carry her out to Lance's 4-runner to come down off of whatever she took. "Why wouldn't I be alright Stevie? Huh? Huh?" Her violet eyes darted around nervously, as though she was trying to take in the whole atmosphere of the club with a few looks. As I watched her, my cousin suddenly reminded me of one of those bobbing head dolls--you know the ones that people stick in the back of their cars? That was exactly what Cynthia reminded me of at the moment and let me tell you--it's not a good thing.

Suddenly Lance came up to my side, drinks in hand. As he handed me my vodka on the rocks, his mouth dropped open as he took in the sight of my drug addled cousin.

"Cynthia?" he asked, his eyes moving over her flushed face and glazed over expression. "Are you okay?" Nervousness had filled his voice and I realized that he cared about my cousin, despite her pain-in-the-ass qualities. How could you not care about my younger cousin? No matter how annoying she could be at times, she was a wonderful person. And here she was, doing strange, exotic drugs in some Florida nightclub. Nice. Really nice.

"Why does everyone keep asking me if I'm okay?" Cynthia screamed at us, as Josh came waltzing by in the nick of time.

"Hey you two," Josh greeted Lance and I, attempting to be heard over the music and shouts of the other dancers. "I think our whole band is here now," he snickered as he leaned in towards us.

"The whole band?" Lance asked curiously, as he took a sip of his drink. "What are you talking about, Jayce?"

"The whole band is here," Josh laughed as he placed a protective arm around the waist of his spacey girlfriend. "Justin is here with Harris, Joey came with Cynthia and me--"

"We made up," Cynthia interjected monotonously as she began to fiddle with her dress. She began to shimmy in place, her eyes still darting around as she did so. "Me and Joey made up...." The rest of her words trailed off into an unintelligible babble, which caused Josh to look at her with concern.

"Cynthia--you didn't take anything while I was gone, did you" Josh asked her suspiciously, touching her chin so that he could look her directly into her creepy violet stare. I saw worry fill his eyes as he drew her lithe body closer to his.

"Nope...I was just saying that me and Joey made up, that's all," Cynthia said innocently, before choosing to stare hypnotically at the pair of silver platform heels that were strapped on to her feet.

"Cynthia, are you sure you're okay?" Josh asked once more, his voice growing frantic with worry. "You're just acting strange..." Looking back over at Lance and I, the three of us exchanged curious looks. And then that's when the tears began.

"Oh Josh..." Cynthia began to wail, as she wrapped her thin arms around his neck, holding on to the tall `N Syncer for dear life. "I'm so confused...where am I?" Tipping her head up to look at him, the tears rolled down her neck, spotting her shimmery dress. "I took some pills...please take me home...please?" I had seen the look on my poor cousin's once before--back in high school when she had smoked some pot. Cynthia just couldn't handle drugs--which I thought had always been odd, since she could certainly handle her alcohol.

A distressed, but panicked look appeared on Josh's face as a still-crying Cynthia buried her face into his shirt. "Oh my God," he breathed as he wrapped his arms around her. "Cynthia--I'm gonna take you home, sugar...don't worry."

Looking up at him, a scowl suddenly appeared on her face, though she was still crying. "I told you Josh....I hate when you call me sugar..." she snapped before burying her face in his chest once more. Shrugging at her words, Josh just scooped up my cousin in his arms and looked back at Lance and I.

"I guess I'll see you two later, `kay?" he asked, worry still lurking in his eyes. "I'm gonna take my girl home...oh and just so you know, Justin and Harris are in the VIP room...so is Chris and Danielle, I think." Josh paused, looking around the crowded, dark club once more. "And Joey...he's off somewhere...he said he was meeting some girl..." Looking back down at his girlfriend in his arms, Josh's face softened. "I gotta get her home--or to a hospital..."

"Okay, man," Lance said as Josh began to push through the crowd, my cousin in his arms. "I'll see you later."

"Yup," Josh called over his shoulder. "See ya..." And then he was gone, swallowed up by the flailing bodies of the dancers surrounding us. Lance and I remained silent as we stood there, thinking about Cynthia. I knew she'd be all right...or at least I hoped so.

"You think she's gonna be okay?" Lance asked worriedly as he cradled his drink, his eyes flashing concern at the thought of my cousin drugged out of her mind.

"Yeah," I nodded, taking another sip of my drink to calm my nerves. I was a little worried, but not that much. I knew my cousin--and judging from Josh's quick reaction to her distress, I knew that she was in good hands.

"Josh really cares about Cynth," Lance began, only to be cut off as a group of dancers jostled me against his body, causing my half-full glass of vodka to spill over the sides and onto my shirt.

"Nice," I sighed as the clear alcohol began to seep into a dark circle, staining the porous cotton. "Nice place here..."

Lance watched as I attempted to brush the drops of liquid off of me, but only caused it spread around even more. I wasn't mad. In fact, the spilled drink didn't even faze me. So I was surprised when Lance suddenly touched my arm.

"Stephen...I know how you hate clubs...so if you want to go home, it's alright with me, you know," Lance offered. Smiling, I just shook my head at him.

"Nah," I laughed. "Don't worry about it, Lance...I mean we're here and I want to be here...so..." I trailed off, looking around me. "What do you say we, uh, get down or something?" I accentuated my remark by giving my boyfriend a goofy grin. "But I'm warning you--when I dance, I look like I have a broken hip."

Laughing at my words, Lance just shook his head and reached out, grabbing onto my forearm. "Oh big deal, Stephen...I don't care if you couldn't dance to save your life...the important thing is that..." Moving closer so that I could hear him, Lance gave me a shy smile. "I'm here with you. That's all that matters..." And with those words, Lance pulled me off into the crowd, ready to make the best out of our night.

Hours later, Lance and I headed upstairs to the club's VIP lounge. We were sick of dancing and just needed a place to escape from the people around us. But, I thought brightly, I had danced with more girls that I had ever dreamed of, which if I were interested, would have been a wonderful thing.

As I sat in a booth in the VIP lounge, I checked my watch. It was almost three-thirty in the morning and to be honest, I could feel my eyelids drooping a little. I was tired and the alcohol that I had consumed earlier wasn't helping matters much.

I turned my attention from my thoughts to the action going on around me. Lance had gone to the bathroom ages ago and was nowhere to be found. The lights in the lounge were even dimmer than the ones downstairs, making it extremely hard for me to make out the figures surrounding me. Squinting in the darkness, I looked around, trying to see where Lance had wandered off to. My eyes finally fell onto a spiky, haired blonde, cornered by some slutty looking girl who clearly wanted to get into his pants. She was dressed in a slip of a top, and attempted to draw as much attention as possible to her ample cleavage as possible. A few more seconds passed, and I could tell that the blonde was none other than my boyfriend, and judging from the uncomfortable look on Lance's face, he wanted to get away from her as soon as possible.

Trying not to laugh out loud, I diverted my attention back to my last drink of the night. I had been a good boy, stopping myself from getting too wasted. Eyes still roaming around the nightclub, they finally landed on some random couple who were making out like there was no tomorrow. And as I became a Peeping Tom for a few seconds, a shot of envy flew through my blood.

Must be nice,' I thought as I polished off the remnants of my drink in one gulp. Sometimes', I thought as my eyes drifted back over to Lance, who was still cornered by that girl in the nightclub. Sometimes...I just wanted to reach out and grab him when we were in public and kiss him...oh well', I thought as I looked at my watch, maybe one day'

These thoughts were quickly forgotten as I saw a large framed man amble over to where I was sitting. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness once more, I finally realized that the person coming over to me was Joey, his arm slung around the shoulders of a somewhat pretty brunette.

"Stephen!" Joey called out as the two of them drew closer to me. Standing on two wobbly feet to greet them, I saw the girl's face light up as her eyes rested on my face. Blushing slightly, I wondered if I knew her from somewhere or if I had met her somewhere along my travels. Her face still drawing a blank, I just shrugged my shoulders and plastered a smile on my face as they walked up to my booth.

"Hey Joe," I called back as I gave him a slight wave of my hand. "How're you doing?"

"Good," Joey answered, a broad grin on his face as he turned to look at the girl next to him. "Stephen, I want you to meet Amber--this is the girl you talked to on the cell phone the other night." Still blushing under Amber's scrutinizing gaze, I stuck out my hand, to which Amber immediately grabbed at.

"Hi, Amber," I said politely as she shook my hand, gently stroking her thumb up and down my palm as she did so. My face turned even hotter and I did my best to pull my hand away from hers like it was on fire. "How're you doing? It's nice to meet you."

"I'm fine, Stephen...it's very nice to meet you as well," Amber said, her voice as soft as it was the night before. Eyes glittering, they traveled up and down the length of my body, stopping for more than a second as they reached a certain spot under my belt. Looking down to see if I had left my fly open, I found that my pants were zipped up. By this time, my face was on fire as Amber's gaze grew even more intense while she began to speak once more. "Sorry we didn't get a chance to talk more..." Suddenly, she turned back to Joey, her brown eyes sparkling as she looked up at him. "Joey, sweetie?"

"Yes?" he asked, staring into her eyes as she flashed him a flirtatious smile. Batting her eyelashes at the `N Sync member she had snagged, Amber seductively slid a hand up and down his arm.

"Could you get me a drink, sweetheart?" she cooed, her voice suddenly changing from soft to sticky-sweet. Still peering into her beautiful eyes, I saw Joey practically turn to a pile of mush under Amber's persuasive gaze. Within seconds, he had hightailed it out of there, heading to the bar, but not before leaving his new girlfriend with a passionate parting kiss.

So much for Cynthia's theories on groupies,' I thought somewhat smugly as Amber slid into the booth next to me. Her body moved closer while her hips bumped against mine, and her hand suddenly slid onto one of my thighs. The smile she flashed at me was different than the one she had given Joey...this one was much more seductive, filled with wanton lust that made me extremely nervous. For some odd reason, the word, Uh-oh' began to flash through my mind, over and over.

"So...Stephen," Amber whispered somewhat breathlessly, as she continued to press her body next to mine. "Are you really good friends with Joey? How'd you get to know him?" For a few seconds, I was at a loss for words. Why in God's name was this strange girl practically sitting in my lap? I want Lance', I thought pitifully as I looked back over to where he had been standing and this time found him cornered by not one, but two slutty looking girls. There was a somewhat desperate look on his face as the first girl placed her arms around his neck. It took all of my composure not to stand up and scream, Hey! That's my boyfriend you're groping, bitch!!' And maybe I would have, if Amber hadn't started running her fingers up and down my arm just then.

Snapping my attention back to Joey's....uh...girlfriend, I felt a new wave of panic run through my veins. "I...I...uh..." I stammered, not wanting to be rude to this girl that I had just met only minutes ago. What the hell was she doing? "Uh...."

"You know..." Amber began, her voice dropping a few notches as she moved even closer to me, swinging a leg over my lap. "You're kinda cute....in fact, you're much more that cute.." The amount of discomfort I felt at that moment was monumental. I had never been good with girls, for obvious reasons...and this was one of them. She was doing nothing for me...in fact, the only thing I could think of at that moment was Lance. Lance and I in bed. His arms around my body and his lips against mine. Our bodies twisted into odd positions. Screaming his name out in joyous ecstasy. All of these feelings ran through me as this girl pressed herself closer and closer to mine.

"Uh...Amber...look...I'm already involved with someone," I said, before I realized how pathetic I must have sounded. "I really am." Even more pathetic. I just used the oldest excuse in the world.

The girl looked up at me with uninterested mahogany eyes, not giving a crap that I was telling the truth. The present was what mattered the most to her. "Oh come on, you're way too young to tie yourself down to one person....let's have a little fun..." As I stared at her, my eyes inadvertainly watched as she undid another button on her clingy minidress, causing my eyes to be drawn to her breasts. I had made the mistake of looking at them and now, for sure, Amber thought I was interested in her.

"Look, Amber," I croaked, my voice faltering with every word as I attempted to back myself away from her, causing her to move closer and closer. She reminded me of a tiger, stalking out their prey. "I'm...I'm gay...I like guys."

She stared at me for a few seconds and I could tell that she was trying not to laugh. I wondered how many guys had told her that one before. I didn't have a chance to think, before Amber slid her hand up my arm once more. "Yeah, right..." she laughed, as her face drew closer to mine. "I'm so sure you are..." And with those words, she placed her pouty, gloss covered lips on top of mine.

I froze. My body literary froze as Amber wrapped her arms around my waist and knocked me onto my back in the cramped confines of the booth we were in. I could feel the warm vinyl meet my back as Amber pressed me down onto it. Her lips still on top of mine, I felt as her hands snaked their way down my torso and then....

"Hey!" I screamed out, finally pulling my mouth away from hers. The feeling of this strange girl's hands on my groin was odd, very odd...She looked at me with a startled expression on her face. I wanted to say that I felt violated, but I didn't. Instead, all I wanted to do was laugh my ass off--right in her face. But I didn't do that either. Instead, I struggled to pull myself back up into an upright position in the booth.

"What's wrong?" Amber purred, as she knocked me back down. Staring into my eyes, she slowly began to place a trail of kisses down my neck. "You don't like to do it in public? Okay, how about we go back to my place...I'm sure Joey won't mind another guy in bed with us..."

"NO!!!" I exclaimed as I finally pulled myself up for good, nearly sending Amber flying backwards into the opposite side of the booth. I cleared my throat a couple of times and suddenly I wished that I had a large bottle of vodka sitting there. If I ever needed a drink, now was certainly the time. "Look, Amber," I began cooly as I straightened out my shirt. "You seem nice, but I told you...I'm gay. I have a boyfriend."

`And his name is Lance,' the voice in my head spoke up, as my eyes drifted back to where my boyfriend had been standing. But he was gone. All I saw were the two girls standing there, talking to each other, angry expressions on their faces. Something must have happened, I thought, shaking my head. Amber and I remained silent in the booth, and I began to scoot myself away from her, just as Joey came back to the booth, drinks in hand.

"Hey sweets," he greeted Amber, who paid no attention to him as she adjusted her dress, buttoning up the button that she had just undone for me. "I'm back." Looking up at Joey, Amber gave him a wan smile, as she vainly continued to fix herself back up. She began to frantically dig around in her purse, while Joey stood there, an odd expression on his face. He knew something was up and the thoughts began to swirl through my mind. Could he tell that Amber had kissed me? I wiped my lips, hoping that there weren't traces of her bubblegum flavored lip gloss on me.

"Great," Amber finally sighed, allowing her eyes to drift back over to me. A smile lit up her pretty face once more, as she winked at me. In the blink of an eye, she leaned over while Joey took a seat next to her, and somehow managed to slip me a scrap of paper. Looking down at it, I saw the words, `You have a great package' scribbled on it, while her phone number was hastily scrawled underneath the phrase.

I stared at her for a few seconds, completely open-mouthed at her boldness. `She did that right in front of Joey', I thought in disbelief as I slid out of the booth. I had to get out of there, before I wound up in a room with both Joey and Amber later on.

"I'll see you two around," I said as I gave Joey and Amber a parting wave. "There's someone I have to find." When I met Joey's eyes, he just nodded quickly at me, knowing exactly who that person was. As I walked around the club's elegant VIP room, I marveled at how strange my life had become. Clubs, preferred treatment, strange girls hitting on me...I just wanted some normalcy.

I wanted Lance.

As soon as this thought entered my mind, my tired, weary eyes sought out my boyfriend. I wanted to talk to him...I wanted to be near him. I never wanted to be an overly dependent boyfriend, but....I missed him. I continued to look around the room, until I finally saw Lance. The slutty girls were gone, and now replaced with none other than Justin and Harris.

"Hey," I said casually, as I walked up to their private little group. As he turned to greet me, Lance immediately flashed me a happy smile, though I could have sworn that something was bothering him. I know Lance. I know him well enough to know when he's trying to hide something from me and this was one of those moments. I wanted to ask him if he was okay, but I knew better than to ask when Justin and Harris were around. I just wasn't comfortable with them yet, especially since last night...

"Hi Stephen," Justin welcomed me, moving over so that I could stand next to Lance. "Uh...how have you been...since...I uh...last saw you." Immediately, the image of a naked Justin holding a whip entered my mind as fast as a bolt of lightening. My cheeks flushed at this, and I felt myself wanting to burst into laughter, my previous worries about Lance now forgotten as my mind refused to let the image of Justin go.

"Fine," I answered as I bit my lip, desperately trying to hold my laughter back. The three of them were looking at me strangely as I tried to compose myself. I'm sure they just thought that I was drunk or something. "I'm okay...and you?"

"Fine..." Justin trailed off, looking as though he wanted to fall through the floor. "Uh..I have to go to the bathroom...and..." I saw as Justin met his lover's eyes briefly, before moving to mine. "Um...Stephen? Could I speak to you for a second?"

I stood there, caught off guard to why Justin would want to talk to me. And in the bathroom, no less. I felt my forehead wrinkle up in confusion as I followed Justin to the men's bathroom. I looked back over my shoulder, hoping that Lance was watching me, but to my dismay he wasn't. Harris had already caught him in what seemed to be a heavy conversation, and Lance wasn't even looking in my direction. Trying to stifle a sigh, I continued to follow Justin to the bathrooms. I was nervous. I know what happens in bathrooms, especially to gay guys. I'm not stupid.

"Look, Stephen," Justin said as we reached the stalls. "I don't really need to go...I just wanted to ask you something..." I'm sure my eyebrows shot clear off my head at that point. What could the curly haired lead singer want to talk to me about? It's not as though we had so much in common. In fact, despite the little talks I had with him on exactly two occasions, Justin and I never spoke much. So what could he want from me, I thought as Justin gave me a shaky smile. Hesitating, the blonde finally opened his mouth as the shocking question fell into the dead air between us....

Minutes later, I had gotten out of that bathroom with my pride still intact. I was freaking out. My heart was beating like a jackhammer and I still couldn't believe it...

As I approached Harris, I noticed that Lance was gone. Panic overswept me once more as I strode up to him, Justin trailing behind.

"Where's Lance?" I asked, trying to control my shaky voice. I just wanted to get out of there, and I wanted Lance to come with me. I needed him. I needed him to tell me that I wasn't overreacting like a hysterical two year old.

"He, uh...left. He said that he'd meet you outside," Harris stammered, his face scarlet. This was the first time I had seen him not looking calm and controlled. And then I wondered if he had asked my boyfriend the same thing. Lord...

"Shit," I swore under my breath as I turned back to Justin, who was staring at his shoes with a perverse interest. "Look, I'll...I'll see you two around, okay? Maybe we'll run into each other again..."

"Sure," Harris croaked out as I turned away from couple. "And Stephen?"

I didn't want to turn around. I really didn't. But I did.

Harris took a deep breath as our eyes met once more. "Look, I'm really sorry about blowing up at you and Lance the other night...I was a little..." He looked away for a second. "Drunk...and I really didn't know what was going on...I was drunk...so I'm sorry if I seemed a little angry."

A little angry?', I thought to myself incrediously, as I thought about his temper last night when he had discovered Lance and I in the closet. That was an understatement.'

"It's okay," I heard myself saying. "Don't worry about it...I have to go find Lance..."

And with that, I was heading towards the VIP room's exit. I needed to get out of there and I wanted to make my getaway as soon as my feet would carry me.

But I wasn't fast enough...

"Stephen?" a voice called out, causing me to spin around once more. At first, I thought it was Justin or Harris calling me back, which accounted for the scowl on my face. But that expression quickly changed once I saw Chris standing there, his arm around the waist of a beautiful, smiling blonde.

"Oh," I said, allowing my face to relax into a half-caring smile. "Hey Chris--what's up?"

"Nothin'," He said, as a lopsided grin appeared on his face. "It's just that I haven't seen you since the tour ended, man..." Leaning over to punch me in the arm, a worried look appeared on his face. "You okay? You know... I mean..."

I knew that he was talking about my mother, but right now, that was the last thing on my mind. All I could think of was Lance, and him waiting for me somewhere downstairs in the mass of people. But I didn't want to be rude to Chris...

"I'm fine," I lied as I smiled at the pretty blonde next to him. "And who's the beauty here?" I asked him as I lifted the girl's hand and kissed it. God only knows why I kissed her hand. I was in a weird mood. Plus, she didn't look like she was about to jump me like Amber did. The girl looked over at Chris, an impressed look in her eyes.

"Stephen, I wanted you to meet my girlfriend, Danielle...Danielle, this is Stephen, Lance's boyfriend..." I snapped out of my mood once that word left his mouth. Boyfriend? Did he go around telling everyone that Lance and I were a couple?

"Oh!" Danielle exclaimed, her eyes brightening as she recognized my name. "So you're Stephen..." she said, clasping her hand in mine and holding it to her chest. "I've heard so many good things about you from Chris." I looked back at Chris, hoping that he would explain. Soon.

"She knows, Stephen," Chris explained somewhat apologetically as he ran a hand through his black hair. "It kinda slipped out that Lance was gay...and that he met you...but don't worry about it." He smiled at his girlfriend. "Danielle is one hundred percent trustworthy...I've been with her forever."

Looking at the blonde, she gave me a firm nod of her head and I knew that I could trust her as well. There's some people you just meet and you know that they're good on the inside and outside. Danielle was one of them.

"I met your cousin..." Danielle said, breaking me out of my thoughts. "She seems very...uh..." I could tell that she was trying to find a complimentary word to describe Cynthia. "Outgoing," she finally settled on, as a look of worry passed through her eyes. "I'm not sure, but she might have taken some of the stuff they were handing out downstairs..."

"Yeah, that's my cousin," I muttered as I ran a hand nervously through my hair. "Josh took her home already...she freaked out on him..." Shaking my head at the memory, I then realized that Lance was still gone. I needed to talk to him.

"Look, it was great meeting you, Danielle," I said, shaking her hand once more. "And it was great seeing you too, Chris, but I really have to find Lance..." As the words left my mouth, the two of them gave each other a knowing look, as though to say, `Wow--he really is infatuated with Lance.' And maybe I was, but something was wrong with both of us. I needed to find Lance.

As I turned away form them, I finally left the VIP room and headed back downstairs thorough the mass of sweaty, high-as-a-kite dancers. They were bathed in an eerie darkness, thanks to the black lighting that shone from the ceiling. Trying to make out the people around me, I came to the conclusion that I would never find Lance in here. But as I stood there, surrounded by bodies that jerked to every pulse of the music, I suddenly felt someone grab my hand. They spun me around, and before I even had a chance to see who it was, their lips met mine in a frenzied display of passion.

My first instinct was to pull away, but I couldn't. My second thought was that the person's lips attached to mine were Amber's, who perhaps chased me in a fit of craziness. But I knew that kiss...I would know it even if I had amnesia. It was familiar and warm, loving and completely unexpected...my blood pressure shot up about 100 points as Lance held on to my face, holding me there so that I couldn't pull away from him. But he had no worry, because I didn't want to...

Finally we broke apart and I stared into Lance's beautiful, expressive eyes, which under the lights of the club, took on a red, demonic glow. He looked possessed...scary...

"Lance," I whispered, knowing that he could hear me over the blaring, bass heavy music. "What was that about?" I quickly looked around us, half-expecting to see the gaping stares of the people around us, but they were too lost in their own world to notice two guys kissing in the middle of a crowed club, thank God.

"I need to talk to you..." Lance said, before pulling me by the wrist once more. We wove in and out of people, in and out of dancers....until we finally made it outside, the sweat on our bodies evaporating as the humid night air hit our skin. Passing the throng of people still lined up outside, someone yelled out Lance's name, but he ignored them, pulling me into the darkness of the parking lot. Questions flew through my mind as the soles of our shoes pounded against the pavement, but we kept running...

Finally stopping, Lance pulled me into the doorway of a darkened shop, and pulled me close to him. I didn't even have a chance to say anything, before he kissed me again, massaging my temples before running his hands down my back. I felt a chill run down my spine as he did this....he moved his lips to my neck...his body moved lower, until he lifted the hem of my shirt and placed frantic kisses on my skin down there. My body began to respond in ways that I couldn't control, and I had to stop this...I had to...

"Lance," I said, sliding my hands underneath his arms. I pulled him upwards, yanking his mouth away from my body. "What's wrong? What are you doing?"

"I love you, Stephen," he said anxiously, wanting to pull in for another kiss. "I love you..."

"I love you too, Lance," I whispered, still holding him up. "But I need to know why you brought me here? Why did you want to leave?? Tell me."

Lance grew silent for a few seconds, not sure what to say to me. The quiet between us grew unbearable, and I was itching for Lance to say something, anything...and he finally did.

"Stephen..in the club...so many things happened..." Lance disentangled himself from my grip, straightened out his shirt and gazed at the ground beneath us. "First, some strange girl...she kissed me...." The look on his face was distraught with worry, as he finally looked back up at me.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he reached out to touch my face. "Stephen, I didn't want to kiss her, but she did..." My mind flashed back to Amber and the lip lock she had given me earlier. Why hadn't I felt as guilty as Lance did? Amber's kiss hadn't bothered me immensely...it was more humorous to me than anything else. And now, there was Lance standing there in front of me, sweating bullets and ready to fly off the handle. I felt terrible for him...

"What kind of kiss was it?" I asked cooly, wanting to see what Lance had to say. I leaned against the wall and folded my arms across my chest. `Let Lance think I was angry,' I thought trying to hide the smile that dared to appear on my lips.

"She rammed her tongue down my throat..." Lance said, his words barely audible to my ears, while a fiery blush swept over his face. Running a hand through his messy hair, Lance was unable to meet my eyes...

"Stephen, I'm so sorry," Lance said, sadness filling his eyes. "I'm so sorry..." As I watched Lance plead for my forgiveness, I became confused. Why was he freaking out on me here? So a girl had frenched him--big deal. I was mauled and attacked by Amber and had thought nothing of it....

"C'mere," I said softly, opening my arms up. Lance fell into them immediately and held onto me for dear life. I could feel his heart beating against mine as his arms tightened around my body.

"Lance, I'm not mad," I whispered in his ear, while I stroked his back. I wasn't. Anger was the furthest emotion from my mind at that moment. Right then, I just felt lucky and blessed to have such a wonderful man in my life. Someone who felt like kissing another person constituted as cheating...

"You're not?" he asked, tipping his head up to mine. Smiling down at my boyfriend, I just shook my head and gently kissed him on the tip of his nose. I looked up and smiled at the safety of the doorway we were hidden in. I liked it.

"Nope--in fact...a girl kissed me tonight too," I confessed, holding Lance to me. "Amber...Joey's `girlfriend'...if you want to call her that..." Hearing my news, Lance's eyes grew wide, and then another thought entered his mind. And I had a feeling it pertained to Justin and Harris.

"But that's not it," Lance protested as he looked back down at his feet. "Something else happened and it completely freaked me out..." The smile disappearing from my lips, I knew what had happened.

"Stephen...Harris asked me if you and I wanted to..." A blush shot up Lance's neck. "Get together...with him and Justin and..."

"Have hot wild monkey sex?" I interjected as I pulled my boyfriend closer to me and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Yeah," Lance swallowed, looking as though he was going to start screaming. "Exactly." The blush began its ascent up his face. "The four of us...and Stephen...I said no." Relief filled my heart, thankful that I wasn't about to have some kind of sex date involving Lance's bandmate and his opera singing boyfriend.

"So did I," I sighed as I held him tighter. "I know...Justin asked me in the bathroom. That's what he wanted to talk to me about." Lance and I remained wrapped up in each others arms for a couple of seconds, not wanting to move from the safety of each others arms. It felt good to hold each other. Lance rested his head on my chest, disturbed by the wild night that we had gone through and let out a sigh, before looking back up at me again.

"That's all you did in the bathroom, right?" A look of mock suspicion appeared on his face. At which, I couldn't help but laugh at. He looked cute. And I suddenly felt like a balloon that had it's air let out. I felt better. Knowing that Lance had freaked out at the proposition like I had.

"Well..." I began teasingly, watching as Lance's eyes grew round with shock. "Nah--that's all Justin did, don't worry," I said thankfully. "He didn't get a free feel up or anything."

"Whew," Lance smiled as he kissed me on the nose. "I feel better..." He grew silent for a few seconds, placing his head on my chest as we stood there in the doorway of the closed shop. He looked back up at me a few seconds later, question marks for eyes.

"Stephen...aren't gay guys supposed to want to get together and have...um..." I could tell that the thought was making my boyfriend uncomfortable. He didn't want to say the words. "You know..." he stammered, his face scarlet at the thought.

"So shy at times," I laughed. "But so naughty at others." Watching as Lance flushed even more, I continued. "I know what you mean though...huge, freaking orgies, right? Caligula would have even blushed..." Tipping Lance's chin up so I could look straight into his eyes, a smile appeared on his lips.

"Yup." Not breaking our gaze, Lance continued to talk, wrapping his arms around my waist a little tighter. "Stephen...I can't imagine sleeping with anyone but you. You're... you're..." He hesitated for a second as the words rushed out of his mouth. "You're my everything. I love you."

"I love you too, Lance," I sighed as his lips met mine once more. "No one else. No matter how many strange girls kiss us, I still love you the most." Another kiss, this one even sweeter than before, only to be interrupted by the giggles that started to escape our lips.

"Hey, you could have gotten lucky," Lance teased me, sounding much more relieved than when we had first come here. "In fact, we both could have gotten some..."

"Nah," I said shaking my head, as I placed a quick kiss on his forehead. "The only person I want to be getting any from is you."

"Aww, thanks," Lance said, trying to sound and look bashful. It didn't work. A mischievous grin appeared on his lips, as he reached out to touch my cheek. "So you wanna go home and do it then? You can finally start worshiping me." Laughing at my boyfriend's eagerness, I could only nod as we walked out of the dark shadows and onto the well lit street. Side by side, we walked closely so that everytime our hands swung next to our sides, our hands would brush against each others. Emerging from the dark, we began to pass a couple brightly lit shops, still open for late night business.

One of the storefronts caught my slightly sleepy eyes, and I was drawn to it like a firefly at a campfire. Mesmerized by the activity going on inside, I watched through the panel window. Noticing that I had stopped dead in my tracks, Lance walked back over to where I was standing.

"Come on, Stephen..." Lance whined, tugging on my sleeve. "Unless you want to get a tattoo...." A soft laugh escaped his lips at the idea and I looked back at him with a expression of complete seriousness on my face. The tattoo parlor that I had passed had immediately piqued my interest because...well...I had always wanted one.

"Maybe I do," I answered quietly as I turned back to the window and watched the man inside of the shop get a design poked into his skin. "Nothing too ugly...just something small...like the ones you have on your ankle."

"Stephen, I got these when I was drunk in Hawaii," Lance explained as he lifted up his pant leg to show me his two tattoos. "And when I woke up the next morning, they hurt like hell..."

"So?" I asked as I turned to give him a grin. "Are you saying that I can't handle a little pain? Calling me a wuss?"

"Yes," Lance answered seriously, not even cracking a smile. "It hurts Stephen and besides, what would you get?" His words faded away as I walked into the establishment, and looked around. It seemed clean enough--not some huge, scary, burly guy doing the needlework. In fact, the tattoo artist was an older, punk girl who, as I continued to watch her, seemed to know what she was doing.

"Come on, Stephen." I looked over my shoulder to see Lance standing in back of me, a look of disbelief on his face. "You're not really gonna get one, are you?"

"Why not?" I asked, before looking back at a menu of designs that lined the walls. "I don't see the harm in getting one, do you?"

"It's so...spontaneous..." Lance argued. "It's not like you, Stephen...sure you're not drunk?"

I had to laugh at his comment. Him asking me if I was drunk...usually it was the other way around. "No, Lance, I'm not....it's just that I've always wanted one. For the longest time, but I never knew what I wanted. I was gonna get one on my twenty-first birthday, but I never knew what I wanted to get...." As my eyes continued to search the possible decorations on the wall, I had an idea. I knew what I wanted to get and to be honest with you, I was surprised such an intricate design had popped into my mind so late at night. Suddenly, an idea for a very funny tattoo popped into my brain.

"Hey, I have an idea," I murmured excitedly under my breath to Lance, who was looking around the place. "How about if I get a tattoo on my ass that says, `Property of Lance?'" I snickered. My suggestion caught Lance completely off guard, as evidenced by the way he reacted. His face turning bright red, my boyfriend began to choke on his own spit like a madman.

"Stephen," Lance managed to croak out, while I pounded on his back, trying to stop his wild coughs. When he finally calmed down and regained the power of speech, a mischievous grin flew across his lips. "I have an even better one..." Leaning his mouth to my ear, I heard him whisper, "How about one on your ass that says, `Property of JLB--no other entry permitted?"

A snort of laughter ripped out of my nose, as I doubled over, trying to control my hysteria. This caused the girl who worked there as well as the man she had just worked on to turn from their places and stare at me as though I had started screaming at the top of my lungs. Holding his hand to his mouth, Lance laughed silently to himself while I did my best to regain my composure.

Finishing up with the customer, the girl working there chose that moment to walk over to us. "Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked politely, though a curious look remained on her face as we attempted to push down our giggles, and act like decent members of society.

"Yes," I answered, doing my best to keep Lance's aforementioned tattoo out of my mind. I swallowed another fit of giggles and I attempted to turn professional and wipe the tears of laughter out of my eyes. "I was interested in getting a tattoo tonight..."

"Okay," the girl nodded. She gave me a a bright smile, while grabbing onto my elbow, she began to lead me over to a counter. "My name is Lynda and you are..." She looked up at me, waiting for my answer.

"My name is Stephen," I said, before turning my head back towards Lance. "And that is my, uh...friend, Lance." My words were awkward and clumsy, as I lied to Lynda. But I wasn't gonna come out and just say that Lance was my boyfriend. Lydia's bright gray eyes critically examined my boyfriend for a couple of seconds, lighting up once she realized who he was.

"You're the guy from `NSYNC aren't you?" she asked, trying her best to act unimpressed as she walked in back of the counter. Walking over to me, Lance nodded and looked a bit uncomfortable at her mediocre interest in him.

"Yeah, I am," he said almost apologetically, as thought he really didn't want to admit it. And to be honest, I don't think I would have wanted to admit it either. The tattoo parlor, though clean and well-lit, had posters of old-school punk bands tacked onto it's walls. Pictures of the Sex Pistols, the Runaways, and the Ramones surrounded us, as well as images of older goth bands like The Birthday Party , 70's-era Siouxie and the Banshees and Bauhaus. This was not exactly the type of place where `N Sync and their slick, slightly over-produced music would be welcomed, I thought with worry. Lance and I both fell silent as Lynda rummaged around underneath the counter. When she popped back up to look at us, a ear-to-ear grin was slapped on her face.

"You know," she laughed shyly. "I'd never admit it if you weren't here, but I do like your songs." Shaking her head as she said this, a bemused expression appeared on her lips. "You know, `Bye Bye Bye' and all that, but--" She held a finger up to her violet colored lips, "Shhhh, don't tell anyone." Lynda rolled her eyes at us. "If this got out to anyone else that worked here--" she ran a finger over her neck. "Forget it, the guys wouldnever let me forget about it." Lance and I laughed, our frayed nerves eased and calmed by Lynda's easy going demeanor.

"So what kind of tattoo were you interested in?" she asked. Flipping her shocking red hair over one shoulder, Lynda patiently waited while I thought about what I wanted permanently etched on my skin.

"Do you do custom designs?" I asked, desperately hoping that she would say yes. And as though my prayers were answered, Lynda nodded her head in agreement.

"Yup--as long as their not too bizarre or intricate--but let me tell you--I've been doing this for about eight years and I have never met something that I couldn't do." She smiled before continuing. "So what were you thinking of getting?"

Sliding a black felt tip pen and a sheet of white paper over to me, I began to draw out the idea I had in mind. Once I drew the simple shape, I slid the paper back over to Lynda. Leaning over, Lance looked at it, his eyebrows immediately dipping into a frown. As I waited for her answer, Lance gave me a swift kick in the leg.

"What the hell is that?" he hissed, looking confused at the symbol that I had drawn. Smiling mysteriously, I just shook my head at him, not wanting to explain it right in front of Lynda. Although she was nice--much nicer than I had even expected--I wanted the symbol that was about to be tattooed on my skin only to be a secret between Lance and I.

Still staring at the paper, a smile creeped across Lynda's face. "Yup, I can do this..." She squinted at me for a second, before sliding a set of papers for me to fill out. "You are eighteen aren't you? `Cause if you're not, I'm gonna need your parent's permission."

I began to laugh. "Yup, I'm twenty-one...and it would be kinda hard to ask my parents," I began as I scribbled out my information on the forms. "Their both dead..." Next to me, I felt Lance stiffen in slight shock. I guess he hadn't expected me to say that. And honestly, neither did I. The words just kinda left my mouth unexpectedly. But I gave Lynda credit; she didn't even flinch at my remark.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said politely, looking down at the paper in front of her. "I really am--trust me, I know--both of my parents died in a car accident when I was fourteen." A brief, unintentional sigh left her lips as she stamped a section on the form before meeting my eyes. "And don't say your sorry," she warned me, wagging a silver-ringed finger in my face. "I've gone through enough `I'm sorry's' to last me a lifetime...it's tough at first though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I agreed as Lynda walked around from her place in back of the counter, and motioned for Lance and I to follow her. "It is...it's just weird." I paused, not sure if I wanted to really spill my feelings to a girl I had just met. But then I figured, `Why the hell not.' It wasn't like I'd ever see her again. "I don't know how to react," I pushed on. "It's like I want to feel guilty, but I don't want to lull in this gloom for the rest of my life."

As the three of us reached the back, Lydia parted a brightly beaded curtain, allowing us to walk into the room. "Oh yeah, I know what you mean--I don't know about your situation, but my parents died on their way picking me up from a friends house." Lynda stared off into space for a few seconds, before snapping back to life and looking at Lance and I once more. "I felt guilty for ages--I kept thinking that it was my fault." I thought I saw her black rimmed eyes briefly fill with tears, but faster than you could blink, Lynda gave us a bright smile, the tears gone. Motioning towards me to take a seat on the reclining chair, Lynda began to get the needle and the ink ready.

"That's exactly how I felt," I mumbled under my breath as I lay in the leather chair, thinking that Lynda wouldn't hear me--I was wrong.

"Oh you're gonna feel like that for awhile, Stephen," Lynda said wisely, as she spun back around to face me. "It's gonna take a long time for you to get over that feeling--" She let out a bitter laugh as she popped out a new needle from a sealed package. "But once you do, you're gonna know it."

"Really?" I asked hopefully, surprised by how motivating Lynda's simple words were.

"Yup," she nodded, smiling at me as she took a seat on the stool next to my chair. "You will--take it from someone who's been there, I know you will." She playfully slapped me on the knee and let out a girlish laugh. "You seem like a toughy, Stephen." Looking up at my boyfriend, who was watching our interaction curiously. Noticing Lance's interest, Lynda's eyes took on a mischievous sparkle. "After all, you're hanging out with a member of a boy-band--you've gotta be tough to do that."

"Hey!' Lance protested, looking offended at her sly comment. "You said you liked our songs!"

"Shhhh," Lynda whispered, rolling her eyes good-naturedly at us. "I never said that." All three of us broke out into laughter at her remark and for some reason, I felt good. I felt really good. It was as though the ray of sunlight that had been trying so hard to appear in my life, finally broke through, flooding me with a newfound giddiness that I hadn't felt in ages. Part of it was Lynda's words, but part of it was Lance. He was still here with me. Through all of the ups and downs I had endured, Lance was still by my side, wanting to be there for me every step I went through. And what really made me feel happy was that I wanted to be there for him as well. I had lived the past two months with him by my side and now without him, my life would have been so empty...it was a scary thought. As these thoughts swirled throughout my mind, my brown eyes met his green ones instinctively. And as we gazed at each other, I knew that he was thinking the same thoughts as me. I just knew it. A small smile appeared on his rosy lips and I knew at that moment, the tattoo I was getting on my back would be perfect.

Suddenly, the harsh buzzing of the tattoo needle brought me back to life. My neck snapped round to where Lynda was sitting, needle shining in the bright overhead lights, ready to poke a design into my skin. She was staring at Lance and I a bit oddly, but just ignored our intent gazes and got down to business.

"Well...are you ready?"

I couldn't help it. My eyes were magnetically drawn to Lance once more, where he was watching me with a look of concern. Moving closer to where I lay, I could tell that he wanted to grab onto my hand. I don't know why he was so worried...

"Stephen, are you sure you want to do this?" Lance asked, his voice cracking as he said those words. All I did was smile at my anxious boyfriend and nod my head up and down.

"Yup," I answered. "More than ever. You have two of them yourself, so what's the big deal...a tattoo's a tattoo..." But for some reason, this tattoo wasn't one that I wanted to share with everyone. I wanted it to be personal. Something secret between Lance and I.

"Is it okay to have it placed on my lower back?" I suddenly asked Lynda as I pointed to the spot I wanted to be permanently marked. "More over to the left, if you could?"

"Yup, no problem there, Stephen," Lynda agreed as her hands brushed against the material covering my back. "You just have to lower your pants a little--" She looked up at Lance as she said this, grinning like a maniac. "This is one of the perks of my job, you know. Do you know how many cute guy's asses I get to see?"

Chuckling to myself, I unbuckled my belt and lowered my pants a little, feeling the warm air hit my bare skin. I felt around the area on my back, making sure that the skin I wanted tattooed was exposed. I laid face down on the chair and pointed the area of placement out to Lynda.

"Right here," I told her, craning my neck to show her the spot. Giving me one last reassuring smile, I felt as she wiped my skin off with a wet piece of cotton, while the strong scent of rubbing alcohol filled my nostrils. I took a deep breath as the whirring of the needle seemed to get louder. A brief flash of fear passed over me, and then I was calm once again.

"Ready, Stephen?"

"Yup," I answered, closing my eyes as I felt the sharpness of the needle began to hit my skin.

I kinda faded out of reality then, since the pain of the needle was greater than I had even imagined. Had I had a moment of insanity when I decided to get this? I slammed my eyes, trying to stop the tears that threatened to escape. Lance was right,' I thought. I am a wuss...what had I been thinking, deciding to welcome a pain that wasn't Lance-inflicted??' I wanted to scream out loud, hoping that would alleviate the pain that was coursing throughout my body at that moment.

As I was thinking this, I suddenly felt Lance's hand wrap protectively around mine. Opening my eyes a crack, I saw my boyfriend staring at me with more than a look of concern in his eyes--I saw love and caring. And it nearly melted my heart. My previous pain was forgotten, replaced by the feelings that I had for Lance.

"You okay, Stephen?" Lance asked softly, reaching out to move a lock of hair out of my eyes. I managed to nod without whimpering pitifully, like a sad dog would do. Part of me wanted me to pull away from him--as I had done so many times before--so that Lynda wouldn't see us holding hands. But a larger and more forceful part of me refused to let our hands part. And to my surprise, I listened to it. I held onto Lance's hand like my life depended on it, never letting go, never loosening my grip once. Peering into his chartreuse eyes, I felt my breath catch in my throat...

"All done," Lynda announced brightly, shutting off the needle. The buzzing stopped and I felt my heart slowly regain normal beating status. "It looks great," she declared, sounding proud of her handiwork. "Want to see?"

"Yeah," I called out a little weakly, as I my slipped hand from Lance's. "I'd like to see." Handing me a mirror, Lynda flashed me a bright smile as she watched me attempt to look at my lower back. There, on my skin, was the black tattoo. It was just as I imagined: two Taurus symbols placed end to end, with an infinity symbol locking them together. And although it was red around the edges and a little bloody in some spots, it looked great.

"Hey, thanks Lynda," I said, impressed by how skillful she was with the needle. I continued to move the mirror around, examining it from as many angles as I could. "It's exactly like the drawing..." Placed the mirror down, Lynda began to tape and bandage my freshly inked skin. While she did this, Lynda also gave me a few tips on taking care of it over the next few days while Lance stood there and watched, the concern gone from his eyes, now replaced with a look of pride. Once she finished, I got up, pulled up my pants and buckled my belt. Peering at Lance, who was watching my actions like a hawk, I smiled and reached out to brush my fingers over his hand. Beaming at my actions, Lance grabbed for my hand, only to drop it like a hot potato when Lynda looked at us.

"You two can come up front and I'll ring you out, okay?" Lynda asked brightly, as she picked up my paperwork and began heading towards the door. Nodding, Lance and I began to follow her, sneaking silent glances at each other as we walked back through the beaded curtain and down the hall.

Suddenly, Lynda spun around to face Lance and I. "Look--I promise my lips are sealed about you two...you know..." Giving us an innocent smile, Lynda finished off her all-knowing thought with a wink. "Together."

Lance and I stopped dead in our tracks at hearing her words. "W-what?" Lance stammered, holding onto the wall next to him trying to support his now-shaky knees. His face turned pale and I could that he was freaking out inside. I know I was.

I knew it, I knew it, I knew it,' the voice in my head suddenly spoke up. You slip one time by holding hands and everyone figures out that you and Lance are a couple. Are we really that obvious?' I questioned myself as my brain searched for some kind of answer to give Lynda. While the adrenaline surged through my body, Lynda was now leaning against the wall, arms folded calmly over her chest, a look of mischief on her face.

"How did you know?" Lance asked weakly, glancing off to the side at me. He reluctantly shrugged his shoulders in an `I give up' sort of way. Lynda's innocent smile suddenly changed to a devilish one as she turned away from us, heading back to the register, calling her response over her shoulder.

"I didn't."

Lance and I managed to leave the tattoo parlor in pretty high spirits. Sure I was forty dollars poorer, but I was happy. After we had sworn Lynda to secrecy about us being together ("Don't worry about it," had been her answer. "I'm kinda like a hairdresser in a lot of aspects--I know tons of secrets, but I never spill any of them."), and bidded her a good night (she had also given Lance and I her phone number just in case we ever needed to talk-- "I'm a kick ass listener, you know."), we hit the street once more, heading back towards the club in search of Lance's 4-runner.

We walked in the surprising silence of the night. The streets seemed to be empty, and no other souls, except for Lance and I seemed to even be around. It was a nice change of pace from the earlier moments of the night, when I had been surrounded by all those people in the club.

As we continued down the cobblestone street, I was a bit taken aback as Lance suddenly grabbed my wrist once more and pulled me into the darkened doorway that we had taken shelter in earlier. Before I could even say a word, Lance pulled my face to his and kissed me. It was a hot, demanding kiss, curious and inquisitive but still comforting at the same time. I felt his hands creep around my waist, his fingertips slowly brushing over my bandaged up tattoo, before sliding up the material of my shirt, touching my skin and bringing me even closer to his body. All of my breath was sucked out, as Lance's mouth demanded another kiss from mine, and I eagerly succumbed to his needs, falling almost limp in his arms.

"Whoa," I whispered once our mouths parted. It was the only word my larynx could form. Any other coherent thoughts were forgotten, turning to mush as Lance's eyes stared into the depths of my soul.

"Yeah, I know," Lance murmured, moving his lips to my cheek, brushing over the slight stubble that covered my face. We remained entwined in each others arms for a couple of seconds, before he pulled away again, peering inquisitively at me this time.

"Stephen? Can I ask you a question?" Lance asked, his words coming out in breathless gasps as the pads of his fingertips slowly massaged my back in small circles.

"Shoot," I managed to say, as I felt his groin pressing into mine. I was going to die there, right in that darkened doorway, if Lance kept doing this to me.

"What does your tattoo mean?" His eyes flickered over my face as he asked me this, needing to know what symbol I had gotten permanently inked onto my skin.

I felt a slight redness creeping over my face. `He's going to think I'm insane', I thought silently as I leaned over to gently press my lips to his neck. "You really want to know?"

"Of course," Lance murmured, closing his eyes at my touch. "Yes, Stephen--tell me, you're driving me insane..."

"Okay...well...I had been thinking...your astrological sign is Taurus, right?"

"Uh-huh--and if I'm not mistaken, so is yours, right Stephen? May 14, right?"

"Yup--good boy, you remembered my birthday...anyways...that's what the two hooked symbols are...they're both the astrological symbol for Taurus--the bull..." I explained, my voice faltering a little bit. I didn't want Lance to think I was some obsessive nut. But by the look in his eyes, Lance seemed be more enchanted with my explanation than freaked out.

"Go on..." he said slowly, urging me on with a kiss. "I'm waiting..."

"Well, the thing in the middle is the infinity symbol--you know, it links us together... forever..." My voice faded off as I said this, hoping that Lance wouldn't burst out laughing at my lame explanation of why I had chosen this design.

Lance stood there, looking a little floored by the words I had just spoken. It took all of my composure not to crumble into bits as I desperately waited for some kind of answer from him. But it was worth my wait...

"Stephen," Lance whispered, looking up at me, meeting my eyes in the dim shadows that were casted by the streetlights. "I didn't know you cared so much..."

"You didn't know?" I asked him, placing a teasing light kiss on the tip of his nose. "Oh come on..."

"No! I mean, I did know, but you know..." Lance said a bit bashfully, a blush spreading across his face. "I'm just really touched that you put so much thought into it--and just didn't get any old tattoo like I did."

"Aww, shut up," I laughed as I wrapped my arms around his waist. "I like your tattoos--I think their nice."

"But I like yours even better," Lance murmured as he wrapped his arms around my neck and kissed me on the chin. "And I certainly don't mind looking at it."

"Well, get used to it, because you're the only one who's seeing it, Mr. Bass," I warned him. "Not another soul is going to know about my tattoo."

"Ooh, a secret!" Lance laughed as he kissed me once more. "I like these secrets,you know? The ones between you and me and no one else." His face softened in the moonlight, his eyes turning jade as they took on a dreamy cast. "I love you, Stephen...more than anyone in the entire world."

"I know, Lance," I sighed as our lips met once more. And as his warm mouth met mine again, I knew that I would never forget this moment. Never, ever, ever. It was just too perfect. The sweetness of his kiss, the passion lurking behind it, and Lance, right there, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I wanted to say something, transcribe my feelings into something more, but I was at a loss for words. And then I realized there was only one thing that fit this moment. Pulling my mouth from his, I looked into his eyes once more, so overwhelmed by everything that had happened...there was only one thing I could say.

"I love you too."

********** And now here's where I become a big, whining bitch :)

Author's Note: I hate to do stuff like this, but I feel I have to...basically, I'll get right down to it. I want to know if MSR has become unbelievably boring and dull and in short, does anyone even read this anymore? I know there are a few who still do, but I guess I just want to know if anyone hung around after the long chapters I posted last month. I hate begging and I guess this is what I'm doing, but Please, if you think MSR totally sucks, drop me a line at sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

Thanks if you're still reading. I love you all =) Take care and I'll see you the next time around, poodles (W&G all the way there!). Thank you and good night.

Love ya, Gabriella