My Surprise Romance

Hi y'all!!!

Well Happy New Year to everyone! I hope everyone had a safe and fun one and that everyone had a chance to sleep off their hangovers =)

And with that I proudly announce to you Chapter 49, Part 1 of MSR. Part 2 should follow very soon =)

Please check out my website, Sweetheart Stories, which has moved! The new address is http://www.freespeech.org/gabriella . The 50's retro look is gone, poodles....brand new me for a brand new year =)

Feedback--oh, I almost forgot. Thank you to everyone who sent me feedback from last chapters plea. I was, quite honestly, amazed by the responses I got, many of them from my fellow authors! Wow! Thanks everyone! Y'all don't know how much I appreciated that (almost as much as if I got Lanshy under my tree with a strategically placed bow =) ...maybe next year...) But thank you, thank you, thank you!

Thank you: Ethan, Damon, David, Barry, Dale...Lord, my mind sucks. I can't remember y'alls names. Thank you to my `#1 hubby', John for being who he is, Killian for just being there even though I never email you (I suck...sorry, sweetie), Khiem and Clarkey. Mucho, mucho thanks go out to the two men in my life: Val and Justin. You guys have seen me through every crisis and are kind enough to listen to me rant. You put up with the non-stop Lanshy ramblings (hell, J, you only add to the fire each time =) ) and pick up my esteem when it's down (and sometimes you even pop egos, V =)) I love you both more than words ever can say and thank you for just being there for me ::sniffle::

Okay, I'll shut up now. Remember, feedback is good. I like feedback. sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER: oh it's fake people, get a clue. If I knew Lance or JC, I certainly wouldn't be writing about them (although, Jayce--you look girlier and girlier every single day..). If you're not old enough, I don't want to know.

(I've been wanting to write this chapter for ages...really. The title is a tribute to the absolute goddess, Liz Phair. Her first demo tape was called Girlysound.)

My Surprise Romance

The Better to Dream of You

Chapter 49 - Part 1

Girlysound

"You know how I hate planes," I muttered under my breath as Lance and I boarded the airplane that was taking us to Wisconsin.

Ahh, Wisconsin--home to my wonderful cousin, which is exactly the reason we were going there. Lance and I were taking a midnight flight out so that we could see her and her band, Effervescent Popsicle play at this ultra-hip indie rock club called the Madison Lounge. But of course we had to take a plane, which my stomach wasn't liking one bit. I felt like I was going to puke all over the place, and as I walked down the aisle, I felt dizzy and faint.

Spinning myself around, I looked directly at Lance, who nearly bumped right into me as I did this. "I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. I hate them," I barked with obvious distaste as I stood there in the middle of the aisle, sweating as though I had just run a marathon.

"Well, Stephen," Lance snapped as he placed our bags in the overhead compartment. "How do you expect to get to Wisconsin then? Walk?" Glaring briefly at my boyfriend, I took a window seat, and crossed my arms over my chest. Lance sat down next to me, silent for a few seconds, before turning back to me, an apologetic look on his face.

"Aw, come on Stephen," Lance said softly, placing a hand on my arm. "Let's not fight. What if this plane goes down in a burning, horrific wreck that not one of us will survive? The last thing I want to remember is some petty fight that we had." His unassuring words pierced deftly into my stomach like he had pulled out a large knife and stabbed me. That scenario was something I did not need to hear.

"Thanks, Lance," I said dryly, as I unfolded my arms and clutched onto the armrests, even though the plane hadn't even moved yet. Precautionary measures, I guess. I did my best to keep a stern face as I looked at my boyfriend, but found it impossible to stay mad once I stared into those beautiful green eyes that I loved. "You know, you calm my nerves down so much."

"I know," Lance laughed easily as he stretched his legs out in front of him. "Don't I? By saying things like `burning wreck'?" Lance began to laugh again, only to be stopped by my stern gaze. "Sorry," he apologized quietly, though I could tell by the mischievous look in his eyes, he still wanted to laugh. Sure he thought it was funny, but I didn't.

Turning away from Lance, I chose to look out the window instead. In only a few hours, you and Lance will be in Wisconsin and everything will be okay,' I told myself reassuringly. You're gonna have a great time and you'll be fine.' I smiled at the thought of my bass welding cousin taking over the stage, with all eyes on her. She'd be in heaven since she loved the attention. As I ignored the whir of the airplane's engine, I forced myself to remember the early days of when Cynthia was trying to get a rock band together. I had visited her at college and was there when she was auditioning people left and right in her dorm room, much to the dismay of her Bible toting roommate who considered any kind of rock music a sin.

She finally narrowed it down to three guys, singling them out only if they could answer one of her strange questions: "Three is silver?" According to what Cynthia told me, one of them, Keith who wound up as the drummer answered, "Purple is gold." The guitar player, Mark said, "What kind of drugs have you been taking and can I have any?" And the other guitarist, David, asked her, "You crazy fuck, what the hell are you talking about?" I guess that question was her little test--to see if they could handle her strange behavior and mind games. They've been a band ever since and to be honest, those kids are pretty damn good--for a local indie band at least.

"Stephen?" Lance asked, knocking me out of my thoughts. I looked back at him and smiled, letting him know that the moment of anger between us had passed. I hadn't really been mad at Lance, just a little keyed up, that's all.

"Yeah?"

"You know I was thinking...what does Effervescent Popsicle mean?" Lance's face was the perfect look of confusion as he continued on. "I mean, is it some kind of sexual reference? It is Cynthia were talking about here, you know?"

Chuckling at my boyfriend's comment, I just patted his hand discreetly as other people began to take seats around us. "Silly Lance...your mind is always on dirty, isn't it?" I managed to say, despite the fact that the the pilot was starting to make his announcements over the plane's PA system.

"That, my dear Stephen, is entirely your fault," he shot back in a low voice so that no one would hear us. "I was a saint before I met you." I couldn't help but snort at Lance's remark.

"Yeah, a saint of the devil, is more like it," I noted, as I absentmindedly ran my fingers over Lance's silver ID bracelet. "Anyways, to get back to the original subject, Effervescent Popsicle isn't a sexual thing. See, Cynthia used to be obsessed with the Monkees...you know, from the sixties?"

"Yup," Lance nodded. "I used to think that Mike was cute." Blushing at the words he had just spoken, Lance became speechless for a second. "I...uh..."

Smiling, I just dismissed it with a wave of my hand. "Don't worry...so did I. And so did Cynthia." I rolled my eyes as I remembered Cynthia's said infatuation with the Texan singer. "She was obsessed with Mike...it was kinda scary for awhile. She went out and bought all of his post-Monkees albums, and then bought all of the reissued CD's...everytime she called me up, all she would talk about was Mike this and Mike that..."

Smiling pleasantly at me, Lance listed to me before the confused look overcame his eyes once more. "Okay...I'm not sure where you're going with this, but okay..."

"Patience," I said, patting his hand once more, allowing my fingers to press against his soft skin. "I'm getting to the point." Clearing my throat, I continued with my story. "Well, once Cynth got the reissues, she would read all the liner notes obsessively. And in one of them, it said that Mike named one of his demo songs, `Effervescent Popsicle'." I paused to catch my breath. "And this was around the time Cynthia was getting her band together...she thought that was a cool name. So, put two and two together and voila! Cynthia names her band Effervescent Popsicle. Nice, huh?"

"Very nice," Lance laughed. "I'm glad there was some kind of explanation for it. I thought it was a nickname for..." He blushed darkly for a second and rolled his eyes. "You know..." I smiled at Lance, marveled by how he could be one way with me in private (the really naughty Lance) and how he was in public (an angel). But then isn't that how everyone is? Two sides to every person I guess. Not noticing that I had fallen back into my own world, Lance continued on with his thoughts. "You never know with Cynthia...she's a little unpredictable at times, you know."

"Lance, you're talking about my cousin," I laughed. "A little unpredictable? Come on...you look up the world `unpredictable' in the dictionary and you'll find Cynthia's picture next to it." We laughed once more and I felt myself relax. And then the plane began to move.

"Oh God," I muttered under my breath, as my body stiffened once more. Another round of sweat began to break out on my skin. I really hated flying--and obviously, a job as an airplane pilot or stewardess wasn't in my future any time soon.

"Don't worry, Stephen," Lance whispered, noticing my very obvious discomfort. He tipped his head towards mine, gently brushing his lips against my earlobe and I silently thanked the airplane gods for the seats we had been assigned. We were in a darkened section of the plane, away from the other passengers. And luckily, it wasn't that full and the people who were on it with us, were mostly forty and up in age.

"I'm here," Lance murmured his lips tickling my skin. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you. In fact, I'll flag down one of the stewardesses and get you a drink to calm your nerves down a little, `kay?" Reassuring me even more, Lance gently took my hand in his and wrapped his fingers snugly around my now sweating palm. "I promise I'll take care of you...promise."

"Promise? Really?" I asked breathlessly, as the airplane began its decent into the air. I looked over at Lance, where I found him smiling at me, lips curved into a heartfelt smile. He squeezed my hand once more, and gently stroked my palm with his thumb.

"Promise."

"Told you we'd be alright," Lance snickered as we rose from our seats. "But no, you have to worry..." My heartbeat was slowly returning to normal as was my breathing. The plane had landed with no problems and I couldn't have been happier. I was much calmer than I had been when I got on the plane. Part of it was thanks to Lance, who held onto my hand every chance we had, but part of it was also due to the drinks he had been ordering me almost nonstop during the flight.

"You got me drunk," I slurred as I pulled my bag from the overhead compartment, nearly hitting Lance in the head. "Thanks a lot."

"Hey, I had to control you somehow," Lance laughed suggestively, as he punched me in the shoulder. "And what better way to control you than to get you drunk?"

"Well," I began, pausing in what I perceived was conscious thought. "There's lots of ways. Handcuffs for one. Hey, do you still have the handcuffs we stole from Harris and Justin? I really liked when you used those on me," I rambled as we shuffled off the plane. Of course, just as I asked this question, Lance and I passed a group of stewardesses who had been hitting on my boyfriend all night. A look of shock came across their faces as my suggestive question hit the air. Noticing this, Lance smiled broadly at them, although judging by the look in his eyes, he was going to kill me for not watching what I said. I couldn't help it though--I was drunk, and when I was drunk, I couldn't be held accountable for what came out of my mouth.

"Sorry about my friend here, girls," Lance said apologetically. "He's a little tipsy. He really doesn't know what he's talking about." And to punctuate his remark, as we walked out of the plane, I stumbled over my own two feet, nearly knocking myself into a wall.

"Whoops," I said as I steadied myself into a standing position. "The floor is moving..."Giving the stewardesses a look that clearly read, `See what I mean?', Lance flashed them a relieved smile, thankful for my drunken state. "Come on, Stephen...we've gotta find Cynthia. I just want to give her a big kiss..." And with that, he grabbed my arm and began to lead me into the terminal.

"I should get you drunk more often," Lance giggled, as he watched my distressed state. Obviously he wasn't mad by what I had said, just amused. "It gives me an excuse to touch you in public, you know."

"Yeah," I said, although I hadn't exactly heard his words. I was paying more attention to the sound of what I thought was my brain sloshing around in my head. "Whatever. Where's Cynthia?" I gurgled, looking around as Lance and I walked into the airport. He was still holding onto my arm, guiding me with every step so that I wouldn't fall flat on my face. A few seconds passed and all the people that passed me by didn't look like my cousin. I had no idea who they were...Lord, I was smashed.

"Stevie!" I heard a loud, high pitched, female squeal suddenly fill the air, startling the people that stood around us. Looking over to the right, I saw Cynthia running towards Lance and I, full speed ahead. "And Lancey!" I heard the sound of her footsteps, saw a flash of red hair and then, before I could steady myself, I was lying flat on my back. Good God, Cynthia had tried to jump on me and thanks to my unsteady balance, I must have toppled right over. Great.

"What's going on?" I mumbled, feeling like I was about to throw up. "Cynthia? What the..." I saw my cousin's worried face swim before my eyes.

"Stevie? You're drunk?" She asked in surprise, her voice filled with worry as she pulled herself off the floor.

"I got him drunk," I heard Lance say. Listening them was like being the viewer at a movie. They were talking about me as though I didn't even exist. "You know how Stephen hates flying and he was freaking out on me," Lance explained hastily. "I had to do something before he started running around the plane like some crazed lunatic..."

"Nice, Lance..."Cynthia snapped. "Now we gotta drag him home...throw him into the backseat of the car...and where the hell did Josh go?"

"I'm right here and--whoa! What's Stephen doing on the floor?!?!" I could tell that the third voice entering the conversation was Josh. Pause. I continued to stare at the ceiling. Boy, did the airport use nice ceiling tiles. And the lights. They were pretty as well. Josh's voice floated back into my mind and he took full advantage of the fact I was lying on the floor. "Lance, you weren't trying to get it on with him in the middle of the airport here, were you?" The older `N Syncer asked slyly.

"No" Lance defended himself, before adding, "For your information, Josh, I got him drunk." Another pause and then the knowing laughter of Cynthia and Josh mingled together so loudly, my ears nearly bled. `Why do we have to cause a spectacle everytime we're in an airport?', I asked myself.

Yeah, Lance,' I thought some more as my mouth wasn't up to moving. There was a good possibility that I would throw up all over the place if I did. Talking would have taken too much effort. That's an even better thing to say. You got me drunk.'

"Oh that's nice, Lance...What? Was Stevie being a prude and you tried to loosen him up?" I heard Cynthia giggle before she and Josh burst into another round of explosive laughter. And I was still flat on my back, the cold tile floor of the Madison International Airport making me shiver. Didn't anyone care about me? What if I choked on my tongue? I could die and my cousin and Josh would still be cracking suggestive jokes about Lance and I. As I lie there, I wondered what people were thinking about me as they passed...

"Uh..you two...maybe we should get him off the floor?" I heard Lance's voice break up their laughter. "I mean, wouldn't that be the smart thing to do instead of standing there and laughing at him?"

"Yeah!" I yelled out loud, deciding to speak, since that was the best answer. Not to mention that maybe Cynthia and Josh would finally stop laughing at me. "Let's get Stephen up and off the floor, okay?"

Silence. And then another round of explosive laughter from the mouths of Josh and Cynthia.

"I'm sure we'll have no problem in getting Stevie up'," I heard Cynthia remark slyly as a pair of hands slipped underneath my arms and pulled the upper half of my body off the floor. "After all, Lancey is here. That's all Stevie needs to get himself up!" More laughter from the hilarious' twosome, as someone lifted my legs up off the floor. My body was off the ground, swaying back and forth as the three of them began to carry me out of the airport.

"Remember when we did this when you two first met?" I heard Cynthia suddenly question. "When I nearly killed him with those airsickness pills?" Suddenly, I saw my cousin's heart-shaped face peer downwards at me. "Geez, Stevie--you're starting a trend here, aren't you?"

I wanted to tell my cousin to politely, `fuck off', but for some reason, my tongue felt two sizes too big for my mouth. And before I could think of anything else, I promptly passed out.

"Uuuhhhh," I moaned as I rolled over onto my stomach. I managed to pry my sleep-encrusted eyes open, as I felt my chin lying in something wet. Looking downwards, I awoke to the fact that I was lying in a puddle of my own drool.

"Oh gross," I muttered as I rolled onto my back. I was lying in a bed. And sunlight was streaming brightly through the windows. My first reaction was to roll back onto my stomach, causing my chin to land in the puddle of my own spit once more.

"Uuuggghh," I moaned as I rolled back, pulled the pillow from under my head and placed it over my face, careful to avoid the spot of saliva that randomly dotted the cotton. Just as I got myself adjusted to the calming darkness, I felt as the pillow was suddenly yanked off my face, exposing my eyes once more to the painful sunshine.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Lance's voice shot perkily through my ears as he flopped down on the bed next to me. "Come on, let's see a smile!"

"Keep it up and you'll get punch in the face instead of a smile," I managed to shoot back, before yanking the pillow back from my boyfriend's hands. "I wouldn't be in this state if someone--" I moved the pillow so I could look pointedly into Lance's green eyes "--didn't get me so drunk I had to be carried into here last night."

"Oh please," Lance smiled, leaning over to ruffle my hair. "You act like you've never gotten drunk before...and besides--it worked, didn't it? You weren't nervous during the flight."

"Not after my fourth drink," I managed to laugh, trying to shake off my grumpiness. I mean, I had Lance here with me. What could be better? "Morning, Lance....did you sleep well?" I asked him as he helped me into a sitting position.

"Yup," Lance whispered as he shifted his body closer to mine and slipped a hand underneath my shirt so that he could caress my back. "Your aunt and uncle let me sleep in the same bed as you last night...you just didn't know it..." His eyebrows arched up suggestively at the thought.

"You slept with me?" I asked in surprise as I turned to look at my boyfriend. His face was inches from mine, lips curved into a smirk that I just couldn't resist. I leaned over and gave him a quick good morning kiss--he didn't even seem to be bothered that I hadn't brushed my teeth.

"Yup," Lance nodded, eyes shining as he spoke. "Right next to you--and let me tell you--you're much more fun to play with when you're passed out..." Flashing me a wicked grin, Lance pulled himself over my body so that he was straddling my hips. "Much more fun, you know..."

"You didn't do a thing to me, Mr. Bass," I laughed as he ran his fingers through my hair.

"Wanna bet?" Raising an eyebrow at me, Lance knocked me back onto the bed, placing messy kisses on my neck. I closed my eyes once more, not because of the sunlight, but because Lance's lips felt so damn good on my skin. Alternating between soft and hard, teasing and nipping at sections of my skin as his mouth began to travel lower...

Suddenly the door to the room flew open and in walked Cynthia, a flurry of activity as she entered the guest bedroom.

"Morning you two horndogs," she announced as she walked over to the window and opened it. "Mom told me that I should come in here and get some air circulating--our air conditioner decide to break during Madison's hottest summer on record..." Stopping in her tracks, Cynthia finally noticed that Lance and I were wrapped up in each other, trying to get ourselves lost in a rather intimate moment.

"Oh...am I interrupting something?" she asked coyly, leaning against the wall opposite my bed. She watched as Lance crawled off of me. Judging from the look on his face, he was extremely embarrassed that my cousin had decided to watch us make out.

"And good morning to you too, Cynthia," Lance muttered under his breath as he ran a hand through his unkempt hair. "How the hell are you this lovely morning?" His words were sarcastic and bitter, but Cynthia didn't even notice it. Instead, she stepped closer to where Lance and I lay, legs still entwined as I tried to control my now-raspy breathing.

"Wonderful--even if mom and dad won't let Josh sleep in my room. They've been making him sleep on the couch ever since we got back from Florida," Cynthia huffed as she took a place on the foot of my bed, ignoring the daggers Lance and I were shooting at her. "For God's sake...they still think I'm a virgin," she snorted. "Yeah, right..."

"Hmmm," I mused, examining my fingernails before looking back up at her. "Maybe it's time to give Aunt Florence and Uncle George some good news about their little girl?"

Picking up a throw pillow that sat next to her, she threw it straight at my face. "Sure, Stevie," Cynthia said as she watched the pillow hit me squarely in the face. "Tell them why don't you? And why not about your good news as well? Cause for some reason, they think you're an `innocent' too."

Next to me, Lance began to convulse into a fit of giggles at the thought of my innocence. "That's funny," he managed to gasp out, barely able to control his laughter. "Stephen--a virgin..." Shaking his head, Lance began to wipe away the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes.

A slow smile began to spread out on Cynthia's face once she heard this. "It is funny," she giggled. "Almost as funny as the one about you being a virgin too, Lancey-poo." The two of them continued to laugh, until Lance realized that Cynthia's last remark had been aimed directly at him.

"You be quiet," Lance's laughter began to subside as he pulled himself off my bed. "For all you know, Cynthia--I might be a virgin." Widening his eyes innocently at Cynthia, he gave her a big, heartfelt grin. "Maybe I'm waiting until Stephen and I get married..."

For a second, I think Cynthia actually believed us. She tipped her head sideways, lips pursed in thought, until she noticed my face practically turning purple. It was a desperate attempt to hold my laughter back, while Lance began to make his way to the door. When I couldn't hold it back any longer, I collapsed into a fit of laughter, falling backwards on the bed.

Rolling her eyes, Cynthia just shook her head, realizing that she had been fooled. "Oh that's very funny, Lance!!! You're quite the comedian, aren't you?" Cynthia reached for another throw pillow and threw it in his direction. He dodged it just in time, slipping out of the room just as the pillow hit the door with a loud thud. Laughing to herself, Cynthia finally turned to me and gave me a bright smile, her good mood radiating through the room.

"Morning, Stevie," she said enthusiastically, while watching me lick my dry lips. "And how are you feeling this morning? A little hungover?" I looked up to find my cousin's bright, violet eyes peering worriedly at me. As I stretched out my sore limbs, I realized that I had been hungover more times that I could count--and that Lance was a terrible influence on me. If I kept going down this path, I'd need a liver transplant by the time school started.

"Like crap," I said shortly, as I sat up once more, my balance still shaky from the after effects. "I still can't believe Lance got me drunk last night..." And before I could elaborate any further, the door to the guest room opened and a blonde bundle of energy ran in. I didn't even have time to respond, when Natalie jumped onto my bed, and wrapped her thin arms around my neck.

"Stephen!!!!" Natalie squealed, her voice filled with excitement as her blonde hair flew around her face. She planted a sloppy, wet kiss on my stubble covered cheek and hugged me even tighter. "Oh my gosh, Stephen, I missed you so much!!!"

Instantly, I felt tears come to my eyes. My sister. The person whom I had been so close to only a few months before, and now, I had somehow managed to forget her in the haste of falling in love. Guilt is a lovely thing, isn't it?

"Natalie," I breathed as I pulled my little sister to my chest and stroked her soft blonde hair. "I've missed you so much sweetie..." Looking over Natalie's shoulder, I saw Cynthia watching us and wetness come to her eyes. Reunions always made her misty-eyed.

Pulling away from my embrace, I saw Natalie's eyes turn glassy as well. "Stephen," she murmured, running her small hands over my face. "Why haven't you called me? Or sent me a postcard?" She sniffed a couple of times, and each sniff felt like daggers were being shot into my heart. "I haven't spoken to you since the funeral ended..."

At that particular moment, I felt about six inches tall. Looking into my sisters big, blue eyes, I felt an old part of me rise back to the surface. The part that would have killed for my sister. She was only eleven for Christ's sake...and I had swept her off to the side, putting Lance (and don't think I didn't love the man, because God knows I did) ahead of anything else.

"I know, Natalie," I said softly, my voice cracking as it left my throat. "I know--and I'm really sorry..." I realized how lame my words sounded just then. `I'm really sorry'???? Who was I kidding???

And suddenly, the sad look on her face turned to one of mischief. "That's okay," she said, her eyes turning aqua with humor. "You and Uncle Lance were probably too busy making each other happy..."

`Uncle Lance'??? I repeated to myself. Where did she get that one? My face twisted up into a confused expression, until the light bulb over my head clicked on. Sliding my gaze over to Cynthia, I noticed that she was staring rather innocently at the ceiling, while two pink spots appeared on her cheeks.

"Uncle Lance?" I growled, resting my sister on my knee. "Cynthia...what have you been telling Natalie???"

"Well.." Cynthia began, trying her best to look innocent. "I was just kidding around...besides, it's cute...Uncle Lance..." As Cynthia smiled and brushed a lock of red hair out of her eyes, a halo suddenly appeared over her head. She had this amazing ability to make things seem so innocent.

"Okay, Cynthia," I began, rubbing my hands together as sly grin formed on my lips. "So how are you and Uncle Josh doing?" The same saintly smile remained on my cousin's pretty face.

"He's fine, thank you," Cynthia answered graciously, as her eyes turned dreamy at the thought. "Just wonderful..."

"Hey, I like that idea--having two members of *NSYNC for uncles," Natalie giggled, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Suddenly, another thought came to her mind. "Speaking of JC...Stephen? I'm gonna head downstairs and see him, okay? He promised me that he would play a song for me on the piano..."

"Sure," I answered, smiling at the idea of Josh singing for Natalie. "I'll see you downstairs in a little while, okay, Nat?" Giving me a quick nod, my sister disappeared out of the room, and I heard her footsteps clatter down the wooden steps. Looking over at Cynthia, I noticed how happy my cousin looked. It's hard to explain, but Cynthia just looked so...content. At peace. It was a rare sight. Something that I hadn't seen much before JC Chasez entered her life.

"You okay?" I asked her softly, jolting her out of her quiet state of mind. Meeting my gaze, I noticed the happy look that lingered in her violet eyes. It was an odd look.

"Yeah." she smiled, standing up and walking over to where I sat. Flopping down on the bed, Cynthia fell backwards onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds, before turning her head to look at me.

"Stevie?" she asked, her voice quiet as her delicate features grew serious with thought.

"Yeah?"

"I'm scared..."

"What?!" I exclaimed, more than a little shocked by my cousin's words. What the hell would Cynthia be scared for? "Why?"

"Because..." she began, pulling herself up, her short red hair sweeping around her tanned face. "I'm so...happy. I've never been this happy in my entire life..." I watched as a brief look of confusion passed through my cousin's eyes. "Stephen..." Almost immediately, I realized that Cynthia was serious--she used my full name. "Do you have any idea how happy Josh makes me?"

She didn't let me answer and instead, cut me off. It had been a rhetorical question, I guess. "I wake up in the mornings and smile, Stevie--" She was back to using my nickname--and so quick-- "I smile like my face is about to break into pieces. You remember that one night in Florida when I got stoned off my ass?"

"Uh-huh."

"Stevie..." Cynthia sighed, her face more serious than I had ever seen in my entire life. "Josh took such good care of me. He really did.." She took a deep breath before continuing. "He took me home, wiped my face down and held me all night, until I came down off of whatever I took." A small, self-deprecating smile crossed her face. "I should have known better, huh? I thought I was so cool--hanging out in some hip dance club, dating a member of this...this..." She fought with herself for a couple of seconds, trying to find the perfect word to fit her mood.

"Larger than life pop band?" I interjected, giving her an understanding grin.

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "Oh come on Stevie--don't you know better than to use the song of another pop band? Geez!" she teased me lightly, punching me in the arm. "But yeah--you nailed it. *NSYNC are huge Stevie...and we're both dating members of this band..." She shook her head in disbelief, before looking at me once more, happiness shining in her eyes, clear as day. "But do you realize something?"

"What?" I asked, trying to comprehend what my cousin was trying to get at.

"I'm in love, Stevie..." A grin as wide as...as wide as...well, I don't know what I could compare Cynthia's grin to. It stretched from ear to ear and lit up the entire room. "I love Josh...he told me that the other night and I didn't even have to think about saying it back to him." I watched as a tear slipped down her face, and how quickly she brushed it away with the back of her hand, so that her emotions wouldn't show. "I'm scared Stevie," Cynthia whispered, bowing her head, embarrassed by how her true emotions had finally broken through. "I just don't want to screw this one up..."

Cynthia and I sat in silence for a couple of seconds, the weight of her hesitantly spoken words lingering in my ears. Everything she had just said, could have been said for Lance and I. I was in love--and, when you dug deep enough, I was scared as well. If you scraped past everything that had happened in the last two months (and what a ride those two months had been), Lance and I were two people who had found each other and fallen in love. We had our naughty moments and our sappy moments and moments that every couple went through. Lance had helped me through my mother's death and I had helped him through telling his parents about his sexuality...

Lord...the amount of stuff Lance and I had gone through was overwhelming...I shook my head briefly, trying to grasp the idea of what my life had become. It was like some beautiful dream, occasionally marred by nightmares that jolted us, reminding us that reality still existed, but in the end, Lance and I were still together. Closer than ever and closer than I had ever dreamed of. I had even gotten a tattoo on my back, signaling how much I believed in our relationship...

I looked over at Cynthia and found that she was staring at me, a happy grin on her face as the realization of our lives dawned on us.

"You okay, Stevie?" Cynthia asked, softly, resting her hand on my back. I nodded and gave her a goofy, happy smile.

"I'm fine," I answered quietly, trying to digest the words that were running through my head. Not paying attention to Cynthia, I didn't feel as her hand slipped lazily down my back, her fingertips brushing over the bandage that covered my tattoo. I'd be able to take it off tomorrow, thankfully. The tape against my skin itched like crazy, but Lance had never been too far away to give it a comforting scratch. The scratching always led to a kiss...which led to something else...needless to say, the itching didn't bother me that much.

"What's this," she asked suspiciously, looking backwards at the gauze. "What happened here?" Realizing how close my cousin was to seeing my inked skin, I jumped away from her touch, as though she had burned me.

"Um...Cynthia...why don't you go and see if Josh needs any help," I said lamely, rising from my place on the bed, hoping that would divert her attention. It didn't work, but instead, only made her more curious. I began to make my way to the door, hoping to make my break. She only followed me, her curiosity growing more and more with every step I took away from her.

"Needs help for what?" Cynthia asked, narrowing her eyes at me. "Stevie--what are you hiding from me?" She took a few steps closer to me, reaching out for my shirt.

"N-n-nothing," I stammered, not sure what to say. I continued to back away from my nosy cousin, and into the door, slamming it shut in the process.

"Ouch!" A voice came from behind the door, which belonged to none other than my very own boyfriend. "Geez, Stephen--do you have to go and slam the door right in my face? If you didn't want me to come in you could have just said so..." Lance whined as I opened the door up. He stood there in front of me, holding his nose, while Josh stood behind him, trying not to laugh at what I had done to Lance.

"Sorry," I apologized, reaching out to pull his hands off his face. There was a small red spot on the tip of his nose, which I leaned over and kissed. "Poor baby," I whispered as my lips brushed against his skin. A small grin appeared on his lips as I said this, and he was about to say something when I felt a pair of hands on my lower back.

"Come on, Stevie!" Cynthia exclaimed, hoisting my shirt upwards, determined to see what I was hiding on lower back. "What are you hiding from me?" I spun back around to face Cynthia and my arm flailed out, hitting Lance's face with a loud smack. My hit caused him to fall backwards, knocking Josh over in the process. Both of them went tumbling to the ground, while Cynthia continued to chase me around the room, desperately needing to see what I was hiding from her.

"Josh!" I yelled helplessly as Cynthia grabbed hold of my shirt. "Come and get your girlfriend!"

"I can't!" I heard his muffled cry come from the hallway, while Lance was still lying on top of him. Lance was trying his best to pull himself up, but only resulted in looking like a turtle stuck on its back. "Your boyfriend is on top of me and won't get off..."

"Lance get off of Josh!" I hollered as Cynthia managed to corner me, a devilish grin on her lips. "You're not supposed to like him like that."

"Stevie," she said softly, inching towards me. "You know you can't hide anything from me..." And just as she was about to lunge forward, Josh (who had finally managed to get off the floor and out from under Lance) strode over to his overexcited girlfriend and placed his hands around her slim waist.

"Come on, Cynth--" Josh laughed gently as he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her. "Leave your poor cousin alone already...let him have his secrets. After all, we have ours, don't we?" Smiling at me, Josh gently placed a kiss on the top of her head, and she practically melted in his arms.

"Oh alright," Cynthia sighed, rolling her eyes heavenwards as Josh began to pull her out of the room. "I guess...if I have to..."

"I think you have to," Josh laughed softly, before speaking again. "Cause if you don't, then..." With that, he tipped his head towards hers and gently whispering something in her ear. Violet eyes lighting up, I watched as Cynthia threw her head backwards, a gentle twinkle of laughter leaving her throat as the two of them disappeared into Cynthia's bedroom, the secret spot on my back now forgotten.

Once they were gone, Lance walked over to me, a look of mock distress on his face. "Thanks Stephen," he sighed, his green eyes sparkling as he stood in front of me. "Knocking me on my back....hitting me in the nose..." He shook his head and wrapped his arms around me. "I'd almost say you didn't like me?" Sticking his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, Lance widened his eyes at me.

I leaned over and gently bit his lower lip, at the same time pulling my boyfriend in for a kiss. "Don't like you?" I laughed once we parted. I rested my forehead against his and stared into his eyes, a peal of laughter bubbling up from somewhere inside of me. "Geez, Lance--than what the heck am I wasting my time on you for?"

A deep laugh escaped from Lance's mouth, as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me even closer to him. "Hmmm....I could say the same thing about you, you know," Lance teased as he kissed my stubble covered chin. "But I won't. Even though I just did."

"Thanks, Lance," I said dryly, kissing him again before turning serious. The conversation that Cynthia and I had before suddenly came to mind as I stared into Lance's hypnotically beautiful eyes. I wanted to say so much, but I couldn't. Instead, I relied in the words I had used so many times in the past: "I love you," I said softly, clasping his hands in my own. "I want you to know that..."

If he was surprised by my sudden change of mood, Lance certainly didn't show it. Instead, my boyfriend just gave me one of his smiles--one of the ones that I had become so accustomed to..."I know, Stephen," he whispered, as his eyes frantically roamed over every inch of my face. "I know..." And with those words, Lance kissed me again, the previous mayhem forgotten as Lance and I finally lost ourselves in the intimacy of the moment.

Later that afternoon, Lance and I headed downstairs to get something to eat. I had showered and taken some aspirin and now, I felt one hundred percent better than when I had woke up. Uncle George was off at the University he taught at, teaching summer sociology courses, while Aunt Florence sat in the kitchen and labored over one of her many handicraft projects that she had seen on Martha Stewart Living. It was one of the reasons I loved visiting Wisconsin--George and Florence were the perfect television-esque couple. Florence puttered around the house, making sure all of the doilies were in their proper place while obsessively spraying Freesia scented air freshener around all the rooms. It was the flip side to what I had been brought up in--a slightly frazzled household that was always disorganized.

But what made me happy was that it was the perfect environment for Natalie to grow up in. I knew that George and Florence cared deeply about their niece, judged by the many pictures that they had tacked up on their walls of both my sister and me through various stages of our lives.

As Lance and I walked down the staircase, he gently bumped my hip and smiled at me. Another nice thing about Aunt Florence involved in one of her many handicraft projects was the fact that she never checked in on me or Cynthia. So when Lance and I got a little romantic after the fiasco...I wasn't worried that Aunt Florence would barge in on us and faint of shock. That was always a nice bonus.

Still floating on the good mood I was in, Lance and I walked into the kitchen and made a beeline for the refrigerator.

"Afternoon, boys," Aunt Florence greeted us as I began to rummage through the meat compartment and pull out different deli meats. "Have what you'd like, but you have to eat over the sink." She motioned to the kitchen table in back of her and shrugged apologetically. "I saw this window treatment on Martha today and I just had to try it out."

"It's okay," Lance said politely, as I shoved a loaf of bread in his hands. "I don't mind."

"Neither do I," I said as I emerged from the refrigerator, arms full of sandwich making supplies. "Where'd Cynth go?"

"Oh she's in the garage, making t-shirts for the concert tonight. I guess David flaked out on doing them and now Cynth and Josh are in there making them..." I saw a brief look of distress flash through my Aunt's eyes once she mentioned the word, `concert'. I knew that neither her nor my Uncle were too happy about Cynthia heading an all-male rock and roll band at some seedy club downtown. I wasn't even sure if they liked Josh being her boyfriend. I knew they had always wanted their little girl to get involved with a nice, respectable young man...someone with a stable future and good income. Yes, Josh had a very good income, but stable future? Pop star wasn't in their list of respectable jobs...

I shook off those thoughts as Lance and I made sandwiches for ourselves and proceeded to eat them over the sink, dropping crumbs off the bread as we ate them. The two of us remained silent, enraptured by the sight of my aunt and her curtain making frenzy. Just as Aunt Florence muttered something under her breath, ("Stupid Martha...and her stupid projects...') the back door flew open and in walked Cynthia and Josh, covered from head to toe in silkscreen paint.

"Stevie," Cynthia grinned, walking over to me and pinching my cheek with her paint covered fingers. She moved over to my boyfriend and did the same thing to him, leaving a smudge of paint on our skin. "Lancey."

"And hello to you Cynthia," Lance deadpanned as he reached over and pulled a piece of paper towel off the roll so that he could wipe the paint off his face. "How are you doing?"

"Okay," Cynthia said, slyly looking at Josh from under her mascared lashes. "I'm fine...and you two? Keeping your hands to yourselves?"

Both Lance and I flushed straight to the roots of our hair, turning an even brighter red when Aunt Florence overheard her daughter, looked over from her crafting project and gave the two of us a look. Clearing my throat, I neatly dropped my sandwich down the drain and hit the button that ground it down in the trash compactor in an attempt to cover up what my cousin had just said. I hoped that would relieve some of my embarrassment.

"Yes," I answered as soon as I turned back around. "And how's the silkscreening going?"

"Okay," Cynthia sighed, as she brushed a piece of hair off her cheek. "Mark came over to help me out but..." he words trailed off momentarily while Josh looked at the ceiling with an uneasy look on his face. "He felt uncomfortable. He didn't like Josh much..." She made a `tsk tsk' sound with her tongue as she wrapped a reassuring arm around her boyfriend's waist.

As the four of us stood there, Uncle George walked into the kitchen, setting his briefcase on the floor. He kissed his wife hello and then turned around noticing that the four of us were standing there. His eyes dropped to where Cynthia was tightly holding onto Josh's waist and a restrained look of what I could only call disgust flashed across his face.

"Hey..." George said as he walked to the refrigerator and opened it up. He was silent as the four of us said our `hello's' and I noticed Cynthia loosen her grip from Josh's waist, a bit nervous at the sight of her father. Not saying another word, Uncle George slammed the fridge door, soft drink in hand as he walked away from us.

"What are we going to do with Cynthia???" The four of us heard Uncle George mutter under his breath as he walked away from the refrigerator. "Goes off on tour at the drop of a hat, shacks up with some strange boy in some pop band and now her band thing..." I saw a worried look flash across Cynthia's face at her father's annoyance. It even surprised me, since Uncle George was so normally cool and calm, no matter what kind of wacky project my cousin picked up.

Hearing her husband's words, I noticed Florence look up at his retreating figure and bite her lip. She threw down the scissors in her hand and chased after him, giving her daughter a brief, yet reassuring glance as she left the kitchen.

"Oh crap," Cynthia said shortly after noticing her father's reaction. "I knew he'd have something to say about this--he's never liked the band..."

"Cynth..." Josh whispered as he pressed his lips to her forehead. "Don't worry about it sweetie..." And forgetting that Lance and I were still standing there, Josh proceeded to wrap his girlfriend in his arms, nuzzling her neck, while Cynthia giggled and murmured incoherently under her breath.

"Oh gross," Lance whispered, shoving the rest of his sandwich in his mouth. "Let's get out of here..." Poking me in the side, Lance quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the kitchen, through the backdoor and out onto the porch.

I had always liked the design of my Aunt and Uncle's Wisconsin house, but I had never appreciated it more than at that exact moment. They had built this secluded porch after they had purchased the house and then planted tall, leafy trees around it. Neighbors couldn't peer inside it if they wanted to which was good, since Lance took that moment to wrap me in his arms. Reaching out, Lance gently touched my nose, before drifting lower to trace around the outline of my mouth, before pressing his lips tenderly against mine.

"Mmmmm," he murmured under his breath as his light green eyes lit up with happiness. "That's much better..." I sighed as I felt his hand drop a little lower, working its way under my shirt, until I felt his fingers caressing the small of my back.

"Lance," I whispered, relaxing in the comfort of the moment before returning his affection with a devilish smile. "What would happen if my Aunt walked out here and saw us? Or Uncle George? What would they think?"

Grinning at the idea, Lance began to move his hand along the curve of my spine, causing my shirt to rise as he did so. "Oh well," Lance laughed in a singsong voice. "I guess their gonna get a free show then, won't they?" Moving his face to mine once more, I barely felt his lips brush against my own before a shrill voice cut through our closeness.

"Stephen?" Natalie's voice rang across the backyard as clear as a bell. "Stephen? Where are you???" Breaking apart at the sound of her voice, I tried my best to regain the composure I had lost, so that Natalie wouldn't know what Lance and I had been up to.

"On the back porch, sweetie!" I called out as I straightened out my rumpled shirt. I gave Lance a dejected smile, but he was determined not to see me sad. Before I knew it, Lance suddenly reached out and pinched my ass nearly causing me to jump through the roof of the porch.

Later,' I mouthed at him, while rubbing the sore spot through my pants. I'll get you for that later.'

`Only if you promise,' Lance mouthed back to me, placing his hands behind his back once Natalie came running onto the porch. My heart dropped straight to the soles of my shoes once I saw her tear streaked face, the playfulness between Lance and I quickly forgotten. The blonde hair that had once been pulled back into a neat ponytail, was no more, as wispy strands clung to the wetness on her face.

"Natalie!" I exclaimed, worry beginning to course throughout my body. I knelt down to meet my sister so that I could look into her tear filled eyes. My heart broke as she ran into my arms and I closed my arms around her, holding her tight. Looking back up at Lance, I expected to find a look of disinterest on his face. I was wrong. To my surprise, Lance looked just as worried as I felt.

"What's wrong sweetie?" Lance asked as he knelt down besides me. The amount of concern in his voice was overwhelming. "Are you okay, Nat? You hurt? What's wrong?"

Natalie looked at the both of us, meeting each of our gazes as she sniffled. Wiping the tears off her face with the back of her hand, Natalie took a deep breath before finally speaking.

"Well..." she began slowly in the way that eleven years old draw things out. "You don't know her..but I've been playing with this girl from down the street. And we had a fight and she uninvited me to her birthday party at the Funzone next month..." Looking down at her feet for a second, Natalie looked embarrassed as she spoke the next words. "And everyone is gonna be there...except me!" Having said that, Natalie began to wail once more, burying her face in my shoulder as she did so.

My heart immediately broke into two, and as I looked over at Lance, I could tell that his did the same. My poor sister was absolutely distraught. I had never seen her look so miserable. Her body shook with tears and all I could do was hold her while she cried.

"Oh, Natalie," I whispered as I stroked her hair, trying to calm her down a little. "I'm sorry, sweetie...what did you two have a fight about?" Moving closer to my sister, Lance gently began to rub Natalie's back, trying to calm her down. Looking over my sister's shoulder, I gave my boyfriend a small smile, touched by how involved he had become in Natalie's problem. He didn't have to, and yet, here he was, worried about her as though she was his sister.

"It was a stupid fight," Natalie wept into my shoulder, her words muffled as she spoke. "We were having an argument over boy-bands and she said Backstreet Boys were the best and I said I loved *NSYNC..." Looking up at us with red-rimmed eyes, Natalie's sad face managed to form a small grin. "And it's not because of you," she added pointedly, looking directly at Lance. "I just like your songs better...and Joey." She gave us both a sheepish grin. "I really like Joey."

"Oh..." Lance laughed, taking my sister from my arms and into his. "That's okay sweetie...I understand." While he looked at Natalie, I saw this look come over his face as he held her close to his chest. Looking over her shoulder, I watched as Lance tried to suppress a burst of laughter. I frowned. Why the hell would he be laughing at a time like this? There wasn't anything funny about Natalie's little crisis here, and I felt terrible that she had been uninvited from this girl's party. Maybe he hadn't understood as well as I thought he had...

"Hey Nat," Lance spoke up, pulling my sister away from him so that he could look into her eyes. And suddenly the look on his face reminded me of one that an excited eleven year old would have on his face. I blinked a couple of times. It almost reminded me as though Lance had reverted back into childhood. An exuberant grin formed on his lips, as he arched an eyebrow knowingly at her. "I have an idea--want to hear it?"

"Sure," Natalie sighed, her voice melancholy. She looked at Lance with a challenging look in her eyes, almost as though she were daring him to make her feel better. I tried to hold a sigh of my own back. I just felt so bad for her. My sister was normally so bubbly and bright. Even through our mom's death, she had remained stronger than me. And now for this stupid girl to bring her down? It just made me angry. I switched my attention back to Lance, where he was still staring at my sister with a smile on his face.

"How about..." Lance began slowly, lingering on each word, trying to draw out the suspense. "Me and Stephen..."

"Yeah?" Natalie asked, the interest in her voice beginning to grow. "What?"

"How about if me and Stephen take you to this Funzone place tomorrow, huh?" Lance asked, trying to keep his voice light. "I know it's not the same as this girl's birthday party, but at least you'd get to go...what do you think, Natalie?"

I couldn't help but smile at Lance's offer. Take Natalie out? Lord, he was really putting his ass on the line, going to one of these places. There could be a good chance that if kids saw him, he would be mobbed. And it was all for my sister. It was at that minute, I fell even deeper in love with Lance. He made me smile. He made Natalie smile and at that moment, I think Lance Bass became her new favorite member of *NSYNC.

"Really?" Natalie asked, her voice filled with awe. "You and Stephen would take me out tomorrow???" Lance looked up at me, silently questioning if I would agree with his offer.

"Sure," I laughed as I took in Natalie's exuberant face. Any traces of her old sadness were now forgotten as she began to jump up and down, clapping her hands. "I would love to take you out tomorrow, Miss Peterson."

"Oh my God!" she squealed in the way that only eleven year old girls could squeal and still sound cute. "Thank you both so much!!!!!" Natalie hugged us, first throwing her arms around Lance's neck and then mine, before running inside the house "Aunt Florence! Uncle George!!!" We heard Natalie squeal. "Guess where Stephen and Uncle Lance are taking me tomorrow...."

"Uncle Lance?" Lance asked in surprise, arching an eyebrow at me in mock suspicion. "What's that all about?"

"Oh that's Cynthia's doing," I chuckled as I rose from my kneeling position. My knees were starting to cramp up from being that way for so long--you would have think I'd have gotten used to being in that position by now. "She thought it would be cute if you became Uncle Lance..."

"Hmmm," Lance said thoughtfully, as he stood up next to me. "Uncle Lance...I like it. So is there an Uncle Josh too?"

"Yup...I guess so," I nodded. "Cynthia didn't have a problem with it...she just smiled and looked as though she had floated off into ga-ga land..."

"Cynthia," Lance shook his head. "That girl sometimes...it just makes me wonder..." His words trailed off and he just gave me a secretive smile.

"Wonder what?" I asked suspiciously. "Come on, Bass," I growled. "Spill it."

"Nah," Lance laughed, shaking his head even harder as he began to walk towards the kitchen door. "I don't think I will." I took my boyfriend by surprise then, as I lunged for him, wrapping my arms around his waist and tackled him, dragging him down to the floor. "Stephen!" he yelled as I pinned him down, my fingers running up and down his sides in an attempt to tickle him.

"Come on, `wonder what', Lance," I laughed as I continued to tickle my boyfriend's sides. "You know I know your weaknesses..."

"Stephen!" Lance yelled, squirming underneath my weight. "Please stop it...please...I'm gonna pee in my pants if you don't..." A somewhat tortured look fell across his face as I refused to stop tickling him.

"Tough. That's the price you pay for keeping stuff from me," I taunted him as I slid my hands up his shirt, tickling his bare sides. "Now...sometimes you wonder what?"

"I wonder," Lance managed to gasp out. "I wonder why..." A couple of tears caused by his laughter, slid down his cheek. "I wonder why the hell I'm in love with you."

I stopped tickling him then, satisfied that I had gotten an answer out of him. "Aww, I breathed, lowering my face to his. "That's so sweet..."

"Well, I am sweet," Lance shot back, smiling at me. "Not like some people who use torture to get answers out of me...you're evil, you know that?"

"Yup," I laughed as I stared into the depths of Lance's eyes. "I know. Learned from the best..." My words trailed off as I continued to gaze into those green pools of Lance's soul and I felt my silliness being reduced to mush inside. "Thank you," I said softly, placing a kiss on his forehead as my mind reverted back to my sister. He had handled that problem so wonderfully...

"For what?"

"For being you."

"Gloves?"

"Check."

"Old towels?"

"Check and check." Lance lifted up the two old towels that I had found in back of Aunt Florence's neatly organized linen closet. A grin appeared on his face as I read through the instructions on the back of the box of hair dye. After our rendezvous on the porch, Lance and I had decided to take a walk around town and wound up at this little drugstore on the corner. Walking inside, Lance and I strolled up and down the aisles until we wound up in front of boxes of hair dye. His green eyes fell on a box of dark brown dye and lit up immediately. So we purchased it.. It had been Lance's idea--dying his blonde spikes dark brown so that he wouldn't be as noticeable at Cynthia's concert that night. He also had a pair of wire rimmed glasses, filled with clear, non-prescription glass that he was planning to wear as well. I smiled at how sneaky he was trying to be, before looking back at the instructions in my hand. I had never dyed my hair before, but the guide, with its happy illustrations of smiling ladies and clearly numbered steps, seemed easy enough to follow.

"Stephen, you shouldn't be so worried," Lance smiled as he plucked the instructions from my hands, crumpled them into a ball and threw them in the wastebasket in back of him. "I've dyed my hair thousands of times, you know..."

"I know," I said dryly, as I ran my hands through my boyfriend's bleached hair. "I'm surprised you're not bald yet...come on," I grinned. "Let's get this over with, so we have enough time to hop over to the club later on."

"What time does this thing start?" Lance asked as he began to mix the chemicals together. "And where are we going?"

"It's a place called the Madison Lounge--I've never been there, but according to Cynthia, it's very hip and trendy." I raised my eyebrows as I slipped on the thin plastic gloves that came with the hair dye kit. "I guess a lot of great indie bands play there...Cynth's just thrilled that she's gonna be standing on the same spot that members of the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion once stood on..." I shook my head as Lance sat on the edge of the bathtub and handed me the bottle of dye.

"Yeah, I guess..." Lance laughed as I walked over to him. I noticed a confused look cross his face as I ran my hands through his dry hair. "Who's Jon Spencer?"

"Jon Spencer Blues Explosion," I corrected him as I looked down at him. "I have one of their t-shirts back home, but I ruined it with about a gallon of gesso..." I sighed as I remembered my white spattered shirt, which looked like Jackson Pollack had painted on it. "And speaking of clothes...since we are heading out to a trendy rock club, you my dear, have to dress the part."

"Dress the part?" Lance asked, puzzled by my words. "What's wrong with my usual clothes? Aren't they nice enough?" Biting my lips to hold back a laugh, I realized how different our backgrounds were.

"Sweetie," I smiled as I began to squirt the bottle of dye all over Lance's hair. "That's the problem--their too nice. You wear some of those nice designer clothes and I promise you, they'll be ruined in the first five minutes...someone's gonna get a footprint on you, or spill beer. If you're lucky, no one will puke on you." I saw his face go white at the idea. And sadly I knew about the latter idea from experience. "It's safer to wear some crappy t-shirt and shorts..."

"You sound like you've been around the block in these clubs before," Lance deadpanned as I ran the dye through his short hair. I gently smacked him in the back of his dye covered head, the sound of my gloves hitting the sticky solution in his hair.

"Dirty boy," I murmured under my breath as I applied a generous amount of the noxious smelling dye to his hair. "I want you to know I was so good before I met you, Mr. Bass..." Lance guffawed as I placed the bottle on the countertop of the formica sink, and I tried my damnest to keep the smile off my face. "Well, I thought I was." Looking over my work, I smiled and gave Lance's head one more light smack. "All done," I announced as I pulled off my gloves.

"Thanks," Lance said as he stood up and looked at his reflection in the mirror, grinning once he saw the way his hair was plastered to his scalp. "Pretty cute, huh?"

"If you think so," I said in a standoffish manner, right before Lance belted me in the stomach. "Thanks..." I gasped out, pretending to be hurt. "Thanks, Lance..."

"No problem," he laughed. "So...where's some clothes I can wear for tonight? I'd hate to look unfashionable..." Striking a pose in the middle of the bathroom, Lance grinned at me. "What do you think? Model in the making?"

"Sure, Lance," I sighed, as I rolled my eyes good-naturedly at him. "Whatever." Grabbing the sleeve of his t-shirt, I began to lead Lance out of the room and into the hallway. "Cynthia's room," I instructed him as we reached her bedroom door. "She's got loads of shirts..."

"Cynth?" I called out, trying to knock louder than the thumping music that was blaring from her stereo. "Can we come in, or are you and Josh doing disgusting things in there?"

The door suddenly flew opened, and Cynthia's face peeked out from inside. "Disgusting?" she asked, pursing her lips together, before they relaxed into a smile. "I think not! And what do you two want? What's wrong--you two kids finally wore each other out?"

"Cynth--the last thing I want to talk about is our sex lives," I bemoaned as Lance and I barged into her room, pushing her to the side. "What we came to you for is some clothes..."

"Clothes?" Cynthia asked in surprise, not getting what I was talking about. She scratched her head as I made a beeline for one of her dressers and began pulling out drawers, looking for some rock t-shirts. "Skirts? Dresses? You two turning tonight into Stevie and Lancey's drag review? Cute."

I looked up from my pursuit, only to give my cousin an evil grin. Folding her arms across her chest, Cynthia gave me a knowing smirk as she took a seat in her velvet covered chaise lounge.

"No," I shot back, trying not to laugh. What Cynthia could come up with sometimes... "I'm just trying to find some kind of shirt for Lance to wear tonight--and--" I stopped in mid-sentence, noticing the teasing gleam that was forming in Cynthia's eyes. "I am not dressing Lance...Lance can dress himself. I am just merely helping out my boyfriend..."

She flopped backwards in her chair, covering her eyes with her forearm, disappointed by the fact that I had finally, for once, beat her to the punchline. "That's it," she announced, trying her best to look completely and utterly dejected. "You've just ruined the moment for me, Stevie...good job..."

"No problem," I laughed as I found the drawer of rock t-shirts, while Lance walked over to me and smiled. He began to gently run his fingers up and down my arm, before ruffling through the drawer himself. His touch causing my body to shiver slightly, although the room itself was warm and stuffy. I stood there and watched Lance, realizing that every single time he touched my, my mind would turn to mush.

"What about this one?" Lance interrupted my thoughts as he suddenly plucked a crushed beyond belief t-shirt out of the drawer, causing a couple of other shirts to tumble onto the floor as well. "What's is the hokey pokey and what's it all about?" A smile crossed his lips as he read the saying out loud. "Cute. I like. Can I wear?"

The two of us looked over at Cynthia who just shrugged her shoulders. "Sure," she said simply as she rose from her chair and stopped the CD that was spinning around in the stereo. "I Don't care. Keep it. I haven't worn it in years...in fact..." she trailed off as she walked over to her closet. "Wanna see what I'm wearing tonight?"

"Not really," I began to say, but it was too late. Cynthia had already yanked the closet door open and pulled out the outfit she was going to make her club debut in.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked proudly as she held up the Pucci printed miniskirt and one of her own printed black tank tops that read, `I Hate Boy Bands.' "Cute, huh?"

I looked over at Lance, just to see what his reaction was. I found that he was having a hard time not wanting to laugh. "Um, Cynth..." he began, shuffling his feet since he had nothing better to do. "Isn't that kind of hypocritical? You are dating Josh...and if I'm not mistaken, isn't he in a boy-band? With me?"

"Yeah," Cynthia replied, looking at us defiantly. "I know...but I still don't like your music..." A fetching smile appeared on her face as Josh entered her mind. "But I love him...." Her words trailed off and I could tell that the mere thought of her boyfriend turned Cynthia's brain into goo. She snapped out of her daydream once she noticed that Lance and I were looking at her strangely and her eyes then focused on Lance's wet hair.

"Ooh, Lancey," Cynthia said, touching the sticky dye with her fingertips. "Finally getting your cuffs and collar to match, huh?"

"Cuffs and collar?" Lance asked, looking confused. "What are you talking about, Cynthia? Have you finally flipped?" A smirk appeared on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked directly at Lance's crotch, before shifting her eyes back up to his scalp.

"Yeah," Cynthia giggled, placing a hand over her mouth. "Cuffs and collar." A pale pink blush spread across my boyfriend's face at Cynthia's keen observation, and all he could do was roll his eyes.

"Cute, Cynth," Lance sighed. "Very observant. You should become a private detective some day..." Waving the shirt in his hands, a shy smile appeared on his face once more. "Thanks again for the shirt, Cynth...and now if you excuse me, I have to go wash this crap out of my hair. Stephen? Want to help?"

"Yeah," I agreed, and before Cynthia could make another crude remark, Lance and I hightailed it out of her room, shutting the door behind us.

"Your cousin..." Lance sighed as we walked back to the bathroom, shaking his head. "She's impossible sometimes...but cute, I guess." He looked up at me as we walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind us. "But I do know one thing."

"What?" I asked, as I watched Lance carefully pull off his black t-shirt and throw it on the floor. I continued to watch my boyfriend as he turned on the shower, adjusting the hot and cold knobs until the water was the perfect temperature.

"Well," Lance began as he turned back to face me. "She makes Josh incredibly happy..." A bright smile appeared on his lips as he unbuttoned his shorts and stepped out of them. "You know...the same way you make me happy. We were talking this morning about you two--"

"No wonder my ears were burning," I teased him as I took a seat on the closed toilet. "Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt. Go on."

"Oh there's nothing more to say," Lance smiled as he pulled the shower curtain back. "Just that you two make us incredibly happy. You know, Natalie winning those concert tickets was the best thing that happened to both of us..." Leaning over towards me, Lance met my lips in a gentle kiss, punctuating the thoughts he had just spoken. As he kissed me, I felt his eyelashes flutter against my cheeks, while one of his hands ran wildly through my hair.

"Now," Lance whispered as we broke apart. "You think you're up to help me wash this stuff out of my hair?" A playful look came into his eyes as Lance hooked his thumbs over the waistband of his boxers, pulled them down and kicked them away Stepping into the hot shower, he gave me a look of intense longing "Whenever you're ready, Stephen...." Lance whispered suggestively as he locked his gaze with mine, right before pulling the shower curtain closed. Blood rushed through my veins as I watched the outline of his body through the semi-opaque shower curtain and I began to disrobe quicker that I had ever done in my entire life. I nearly ripped my shirt off in my haste as his words lingered through my mind. Help him wash the stuff out of his hair?

Well', I thought as I yanked the shower curtain open and saw Lance standing there, a huge grin on his face as he watched me enter the narrow space with him. Wild horses couldn't have kept me away....'

"Thought you'd never make it," Lance whispered, running his soapy hands down my chest, before pushing me against the wet tiles of the shower. And as he kissed me again, that was the last thing either of us spoke....

Effervescent Popsicle's first ever club gig had been a huge success. Most of the people who had showed up were people that she and the other guys in the band had gone to school with, but hey, who cared? All that mattered was that the Madison Lounge was packed, a steady stream of people waiting in line to buy one of Cynthia's homemade t-shirts.

It was at that moment, I realized that the whole night was going to be about Cynthia. Sure there were three other guys in the band, and they were important, but it was Cynthia who carried the entire show. It was her spark that brought everything to life and at that moment, I felt like a proud father.

When she walked out onto that stage, I'll admit, she took my breath away--and she was my cousin, for God's sake. She was wearing the tank top and skirt that she had showed Lance and I earlier, plus a pair of black, patent leather knee high boots, but at that moment, in that scenario, Cynthia just looked stunning. The multicolored lights that shone above the stage seemed to make Cynthia glow and standing in that crowd of already-drunk college students, Lance and I looked at each other, awed by how Cynthia just commanded everyone's attention by just standing there.

She also managed to surprise me. I knew that she had a good voice, but that night...she just...well...I think she could have gotten a record contract, if the right people were there. I was shocked.

"Lance," I shouted over the screaming crowd, nudging my now brown haired boyfriend in the shoulder. Looking over at me, it took my eyes a few seconds to get used to the dark haired Lance wearing the glasses. He looked different --a little smarter and sexier--and to be honest with you, I liked it a lot.

"Yeah?" he yelled back, not taking his eyes off my cousin as she flew around the stage.

"What do you think of Cynthia?"

"She's amazing!" Lance broke his gaze from the stage to give me a lopsided grin. "She's a lot better than I thought she'd be..." And with that, Lance shifted his gaze back to the stage where Effervescent Popsicle continued to play on...

About an hour and half into their set, I noticed a slight lull and watched as Cynthia guzzled water out of the sports bottle that sat next to her. Wiping off her forehead, she peered out into the audience, shielding her eyes from the harsh stage lights. I think she was looking for Josh, who by this time had drifted away from us, thanks to the crowd surfers who had floated over our heads more than a couple of times. I watched as her eyes drifted over the crowd, and then lit up suddenly as they fell on someone. She must have found him.

Cynthia spun around backwards, and began to talk quietly with the drummer, Keith, and they laughed. Cynthia walked back to her microphone and adjusted it, causing a huge screech of feedback to echo throughout the club. Everyone placed their hands over their ears and shrieked at the unpleasant noise.

"Sorry about that folks," Cynthia apologized as she adjusted the strap of her bass around her neck. "Well it's been great...but...you know how all good things have to come to an end.."

The crowd began to boo at her announcement. Smiling at their disappointed reaction, Cynthia held up her hands, trying to shush the crowd.

"Yeah, life sucks, but there's gonna be one more song." I watched as she took a deep breath and flipped her sopping wet hair away from her eyes. "A lot of you already know that I spent the past few months on tour..." she began, semi-embarrassed at the words she was speaking. "....with *NSYNC..." The crowd surrounding us began to laugh and I watched as Lance buried his face in his hands. Reaching out, I gently patted him on the shoulder and he looked back up and gave me a smile.

"But," Cynthia continued, a grin appearing on her face. "I had a good time, I got on the cover of a few national tabloids and I got a new boyfriend out of it--bet you're sorry now, huh, Mike?" she yelled spitefully, bringing up her ex-boyfriend's name.

Suddenly someone in the crowd shouted out: "How Lance in bed? I heard he likes the boys?!"

Next to me, I felt my boyfriend's body freeze as a look of disbelief and shock came over his face, the color slowly draining out of it. He liked the boys? What? You mean people knew about Lance being gay? And what the hell would Cynthia say to that? Anything was liable to come out of that girl's mouth.

"Nah," Cynthia screamed back to the heckler, running her pick of the strings of the bass. "Actually I'm bonking JC," she giggled, throwing her head back upon hearing the crowds uproarious laughter. "And Lance...let me tell you, that boy loves the ladies! Couldn't keep him off of them..." she lied, not looking the least bit uncomfortable at the words that left her mouth. I felt Lance relax a little, as he turned to give me another smile, this one filled with relief. Good old Cynthia, I thought, my face hurting from the smile stretched out on my face. She knew what to say in public. And with that, my cousin gave the crowd one last charming smile, before looking over at Keith and giving him a nod.

"Anyways..." Cynthia shouted. "I thought we'd do one last song before we close. Josh..this one's for you...1-2-3-4!" And before I knew it, the band had launched into a raucous cover version of "Bye Bye Bye" causing the crowd to scream in delight.

I looked over at Lance once more, the discomfort on his face gone as he began to laugh. It was perfect', I thought as I watched Cynthia rock out on stage. Just perfect.'

"Cynthia, you kicked ass," Lance remarked as Cynthia ordered another round of drinks for the four of us. After the concert had ended, the four of us decided to do a little post concert celebrating at the local bar she frequented while she attended classes at the University.

"I did, didn't I?" she giggled as a waitress brought over a tray of drinks. "I just kicked ass..." Looking over at Josh, Cynthia giggled once more, not able to curb her excitement for even a few seconds. But she deserved to be this happy. My cousin was good at playing and singing and she certainly did have the looks and the voice for being a rock star. When I expressed these thoughts to her, Cynthia just looked at me over the edge of her fourth strawberry daiquiri and smirked.

"Oh Stevie..I'm not planning to be like these guys," she said, a air of distaste in her voice as she jerked her thumbs at Lance and Josh. "If anything, I want the whole indie rock lifestyle--sleeping on other people's floors, traveling in a van from town to town and playing little clubs." Cynthia's violet eyes gleamed as she spoke, while I noticed a look of alarm form in Josh's. I don't think Cynthia's romanticized vision of indie rock life was what he wanted to exactly hear at that moment.

"Oh Cynth..." Josh groaned, his words slightly slurred from the beers he had just consumed. "Don't be silly...I don't want to think of my girl in any sort of danger like that..."

"Really?" she asked, snuggling closer to him in the booth. I could tell by the brief look on her face, that Josh's answer didn't please her. She didn't want to be controlled and told what to do, but she didn't want to start fighting with him either. At least not right then. The night had been too good to fight. "You're so sweet--but we'll see what all this leads me to..." Touching his cheek, Cynthia gave him a comforting smile and I could tell she was itching to change the subject.

"Alright," Josh sighed, wrapping an arm around Cynthia. "Anyways, you were a knockout on stage...if I wasn't in love with you, I certainly would be by the end of the night..."

"Josh, you're so sweet," Cynthia cooed, repeating her words once more, before looking at Lance and I. Giving my cousin a look of mock disgust, I stuck my finger down my throat and pretended to gag.

"Knock it off, Stevie," Cynthia laughed, taking another sip of her drink. "You're just jealous of us..." Sticking my tongue out at her, everyone laughed at my childish response and then for a rare moment, silence fell across the table. Taking that opportunity, I felt as Lance slid his hand underneath the table across the seat of the pleather booth, as he took my hand in his and gently squeezed it. I looked at Lance and gave him a smile, enjoying the fact that Lance and I didn't need to be public with our intimacy, like Cynthia and Josh. But, I thought, if Lance wasn't in such a high-profile pop band and perhaps if homosexuality weren't such a hot button topic, maybe Lance and I would be as lovey-dovey as those two kids--maybe even worse. Who knew?

"Hey Lancey?" Cynthia's sly, somewhat garbled voice cut into my thoughts and I suddenly jerked my hand away from Lance's, the cause of a nervous reaction on my part. I watched as Lance restrained himself from giving Cynthia a look of disgust.

"Yeah?" he asked as his fingers began to creep towards mine once more. "What?" She eyed him as though she were a tiger eying prey and I suddenly realized just how drunk Cynthia was then. Her violet eyes were spinning around in her head as she sipped the last of the frothy pink liquid through the curvy straw. Still holding Lance's attention, she quickly fed Josh the strawberry from the drink and then turned back to Lance, a devilish smirk on her lips.

"Wanna show everyone how you match?"

Lance's hand stopped moving towards mine, as Cynthia's question managed to stump him. "Huh? Match? You're drunk, Cynthia..."

"No I'm not," she said stubbornly, leaning towards Lance and pulling herself out of Josh's arms. "I just wanna see how you match..." Cynthia dropped her gaze below Lance's waist and a deep fiery blush suddenly appeared on his pale cheeks. She rested her chin on the palm of her hand and gazed at him, waiting for his answer.

"Cynthia," Lance repeated, his words much firmer this time. "You're drunk--and besides, there's no way I'm dropping my pants just for you in the middle of a bar..."

"Oh come on," Cynthia purred, as she crawled into my boyfriend's lap. Giving him a seductive smile, she gently traced a fingertip over his eyebrows before looking into his eyes once more. "I know I'm not Stevie, but you could close your eyes and pretend. And besides, I've seen you naked. Trust me, you have nothing to be ashamed of..." She laughed at the dark blush that creeped up his neck. "In fact, I'm positive you could make some money off of that thing..."

I looked over at Josh, who was watching his very drunk girlfriend with a confused look on his face. She was hitting on another guy--my boyfriend and one of his best friends--right in front of his own eyes. "Cynthia.." he began as he reached over and gently tugged on the hem of her tank top. "Come back here...my arms are cold..." Giving her a look of longing, Josh motioned with his arms, signifying how empty they were.

"So get a sweater," Cynthia snapped as she wrapped one of her legs around Lance, before turning her full attention back to him. "Did I ever tell you how much I like brown haired boys?" Cynthia batted her eyelashes seductively at him while she continued to sweet talk him...

"Uh...Cynthia.." Lance began, uncertainly, as he gave me a panicked look that clearly read, `Help me. Help me now'. "Um...Josh is right over there. He's got brown hair and besides...you know that I don't like girls..."

"So?" Cynthia giggled, placing a small kiss on his cheek. "Just shut up and drop `em already." And suddenly, with a determined look in his sapphire eyes, Josh stood up then, reaching out for his girlfriend and pulled her body back to his.

"Cynthia," Josh spoke slowly, his words tinged with amusement as his hands fell to his silver belt buckle. A mischievous look spread across his lips as he spoke the next words. "Maybe Lance won't show you how well he matches, but I will..." And before I even knew what was happening, Josh had undone his belt buckle and dropped his pants right there in the middle of the bar.

"Oh my Lord," I heard Lance gasp, as I burst out laughing. I couldn't believe that Josh, of all people--the most sensible one of all of us in this crazy whirlwind of the past two months--had just dropped his pants in public. The look of shock and wonder that had appeared on Cynthia's face was absolutely priceless. She just stared at her fully exposed boyfriend, opened mouthed as the *NSYNC-er stood there, patiently waiting for her answer. He was just standing there...swinging...in the bar's air conditioned breeze...

(I will say this: Cynthia is a lucky girl. Almost as lucky as I am with Lance.)

"So do you like how I match?" Josh finally asked as Cynthia sat there, frozen in her spot, while the other female patrons in the bar began to whistle and clap at Josh's flashing. Lance could only bury his face in his hands and I heard him mutter something like, "Why is this so wrong..." While I just sat back, completely enjoying the scene JC Chasez was causing in the restaurant. I mean, I did love Lance, but looking at Josh wasn't such a bad thing either.

"Betcha ten bucks, he won't remember a thing that happened tomorrow morning," I laughed as Lance continued to mutter nervously under his breath.

"Joshy..." Cynthia spoke, still wide-eyed in amazement. "Pull your pants back up!"

"You didn't answer my question," Josh said, holding onto the wall so that he could stand up. "Do you like how I match?"

Looking at the top of Josh's head and then back down to his nudity, Cynthia quickly nodded her head in approval. "Um...yeah...now will you pull your pants back up?" Smiling, he finally complied with her request, pulling his pants back over his hips, rebuckling his belt and taking a seat next to his girlfriend. Judging from the aroused look on Cynthia's face, Josh had definitely won his girlfriend back.

"Oh my Lord," I laughed uncontrollably as Lance gingerly raised his head from the table. "That was nice."

"Thank you," Josh accepted graciously, before taking another sip from the beer sitting in front of him.

"Is it over?" Lance asked meekly, still covering his eyes with his hands. "Can I look?"

"Oh please, Lancey," Cynthia scoffed, as she fell snugly into the waiting arms of her boyfriend once more. "Like you don't like to look..."

"Maybe at other guys," Lance muttered, as he finally removed his hands from his eyes. "But at Josh? It's like seeing your brother naked..." I saw him shudder at the thought before taking one last sip of his beer. And then he looked over at me, a smile lighting up his face as he scooted closer towards me in the booth.

"Sleepy?" he asked, a teasing smile forming on his lips as he gave me a loud, exaggerated grin. "I know I am.."

"Oh you just want to get me into bed," I remarked lightly as I polished off my last beer for the night. "But yeah..I am getting a little tired. It's--" I looked at my wristwatch. "Four a.m. already and we promised to take Nat to that game place tomorrow."

"Yeah," Lance smiled as he gently brushed his fingers over my thigh. I closed my eyes briefly at his touch and suddenly, I really wanted to get out of that place. "We should get going..." And with that, Lance and I stood up from our spots in the booth and said good night to Cynthia and Josh, who were already involved in one of their marathon make out sessions and barley noticed (or cared) that Lance and I were leaving.

"Cute kids," Lance remarked dryly as we walked over to my Uncle's car, which I had borrowed for the night. As I unlocked the door, Lance stuck his hands in the pockets of his pants and watched me. "I'm sure their gonna be happy spending their days in rehab together. Or a nymphomanic's support group." He added as an afterthought as he got into the car.

"You should talk," I joked, as I slid into the drivers seat and slammed the door. I looked over at Lance and smiled. "Not that I'm complaining or anything..."

"Good point--we'll probably be in there with `em," Lance cracked, before falling silent once more. And then, as though the idea popped into his mind, Lance suddenly leaned over, cupped my face in his hands and passionately kissed me.

"See what I mean?" Lance asked pointedly once we parted. He stared deeply into my eyes as I attempted to catch my breath. I couldn't tear my gaze away from his...

"Yup," I replied, before leaning in for another lustful kiss. It was the perfect way to end the night.

Part 2 coming sooner than you think! Feedback: sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

Thanks for reading! Gabriella