Hell, look! Another female author. I bet you're all getting sick of it right? :) Tho there's no reason to. So some of us (primarily me) are twisted and enjoy this sort of stuff. And as I've always said, to each his (her) own. Or whatever floats you boat right???
So this is the first little story I've actually gotten the nerve to put up on any site. I plan to write lots of little ones in a similar fashion as nsyncgrrl. She never told me her name- but she's knows I'm in love with all her work. And I know if she reads this one she'll be upset it JC and Lance (gave it away now) but who's to say what's to come. So if/when I write another- it'll be a different name, instead of an ongoing feat. I like different story lines that can be random and yet connected. So look for the next one: Just Like Prom Night. No promises as to when it'll be out- but if response it good I'll be more motivated. (and no that's not any sort of bribe) I just like to hear people's thoughts: good and bad. :)
Oh and warning- no sex, YET.
So for those of you haven't caught on yet- this story is a work from my sick head. Who really knows if the boys are gay or not. But as media claims, they are not. If you don't like anything of the gay sort you can leave- and I don't care how old you are- just don't go crying to anyone once you've read it! LILA (ngc76@yahoo.com)
Lance tossed mercilessly in his bed. The combination of fear and cold were pervading his sleep. In the process of his bad dream, Lance had managed to kick every sheet off the bed and was now shivering in a fetal position.
The dream wasn't the normal one he had. Usually Lance's thoughts were wracked with the doubts of his sexuality. But tonight after a concert in Greensboro North Carolina, where a bomb threat had been called in, Lance thought he was going to wake up to the next Oklahoma City.
Lance finally woke with a start, right after the clock on the bomb had reached 0:00. Lance's flailing in bed had woken his hotel room neighbor, JC; a moment later, the phone on Lance's bedside table rang.
"Hello?" Lance asked, his usually strong voice, broken.
"You okay over there Lance? Things don't sound so good. And you know if you managed to wake me up, it must be bad."
Lance struggled to maintain his composure, but his voice would hold together long enough to form a word, so he sat in silence, unable to answer JC.
"You want me to come over a for a little?"
Lance nodded to himself, and mustered a whisper,
"Please."
"K, come unlock your door then Lance, I'll be right over."
Lance hung up the phone and got up to undo the deadbolt on his door.
JC sat up fully in bed and rubbed his face, trying to wake up a bit. Since he wasn't planning on staying in Lance's room that long, JC walked out into the hall in his boxers and knocked on the door, before remembering Lance had left it unlocked.
Lance was sitting at the small table set up in the corner of the room. JC pulled out the chair next to him and placed his chin in his hands.
"Lay it on me Lance."
"All of it?"
"How much can there be buddy?"
Lance sighed and looked JC in the eyes.
"More than you'd believe." He said under his breath.
"I want it all Lansten. I'm sick of this you know that? I can't handle you being all subdued and quiet all the time. That's my job. What's your deal?"
"I had a nightmare-"
"It's not just tonight Lance, and you know it. It's every night for the past month. What the hell is going on with you?"
"I- I can't tell you JC." Lance averted his eyes and became suddenly interested in the tiles on the floor of the kitchenette.
"Okay, so that's it. I'll just leave you to your misery. I'll leave and you can sulk and have nightmares for the rest of the year and let everyone else in the group suffer because you can't tell me." JC stood up and knocked over his chair.
Lance was struggling to hold back his tears.
"Lance, whatever it is. I'm still gonna be here for you. But I can't stand here if you can't even tell me what's wrong." JC was angry but couldn't just walk out on Lance like this.
The look on JC's face and its close proximity did it. Lance let loose and began sobbing. JC walked over and pulled Lance out of his chair and into his arms.
JC's hands were rubbing his back, in a comforting gesture, but Lance knew it wasn't meant in any sexual way. Lance thought of the scene in American Beauty where Kevin Spacey's gay neighbor kisses by him. He shook his head and looked up at JC.
"The biggest part of my problem is the hardest part to say." Lance sniffed back the last of his tears.
"Can you show me?" JC asked honestly.
Lance took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and opened them. He leaned into JC and did it. He kissed him, and though it had been merely a peck on the lips, Lance figured it would get the point across.
"James Lance Bass, why on earth couldn't you have told me that?"
"I thought you'd be turned off by me, or worse, hate me."
"First of all Lance, you know I could never hate you. You're my strength you know that?"
Lance shook his head and realized JC's grip hadn't lessened for a second.
"So you don't hate me?"
JC shook his head,
"No, and Lance, I wasn't turned off by it either."
"Stay with me tonight JC, please?"
"What if we get caught?"
Lance disentangled himself from JC's comforting arms and re-locked the door and turned off the light by the table.
"Who's gonna catch us?"