Disclaimer: This is a piece of fiction, i.e. it's not real. I don't know *N Sync or their sexual preferences. If you are underage or disapprove of male/male relationships, please leave.
Hey guys! Not a lot to say except for thanks to those that have written me about this story and encouraged me, you know who ya are! :) Also got to say a massive thank you to Cele for just being Cele. :) Thanks again and if you want to read the chapter in the proper format and stuff it's up on my sight. (http://www.angelfire/boybands/nsajscgirl) Don't forget to email me with feedback! nsajscgirl@yahoo.com Robin
** Prisoner of Love Chapter 6
Silence, heavy and angry, descended upon the occupants of the car that sped down the freeway entrance ramp. JC sent a quick, thankful prayer heavenward for finding the freeway quickly. They'd mercifully avoided any police officers and JC punched the gas as he merged with traffic, his body sweating profusely. He glanced at his silent companion and was rewarded with a cold glare before Lance's icy green eyes drifted downward, looking at the gun, which JC gripped tightly in his hand. His eyes returned to JC's, anger and fear warring behind a cold façade that Lance was trying desperately to keep up. Before JC could say anything, Lance's eyes moved away from his to watch the busy traffic around them. Lance refused to talk to him and that was okay with JC for the time being. He just had to focus on getting them out of Orlando as fast as possible and making it to Justin's cabin without getting caught, a prospect that looked dimmer with every passing minute.
He allowed his thoughts to wander slightly as he expertly weaved in and out of traffic. Now that he had a second to stop and think about what had happened, he almost slammed on the brakes. He'd just kidnapped Lance. He had held a gun to his old friend's head and forced him into the car. JC gripped the steering wheel tightly with his free hand as it started to shake. He bit his lower lip and glanced worriedly at the back of Lance's head before returning his focus to the road. How the hell was he supposed to convince the younger man that he was completely innocent when he'd just broken several laws? Lance would probably never believe him now, even if he had solid proof of his innocence.
He sighed heavily. Lance continued to ignore him. His plan had been shot to hell and back and there wasn't anything he could do about it. He'd wanted this to be so simple. He just wanted to talk to Lance, plead his case, and, once he received Lance's apology, he would've happily gone straight to Justin's. Looking back on his original plan, though, he realized just how naïve he'd been. It had been incredibly stupid of him to just assume that Lance would be forgiving and apologetic. He had known deep inside that Lance would probably blow him off, but he'd never expected this.
"Where are you taking me?" Lance's deep voice brought JC out of his thoughts and he glanced at the younger man in surprise. "I'm not trying to making fucking conversation here, I just want to know where you plan on taking me, JC," Lance said coldly. JC's eyes narrowed and he returned his gaze to the road.
"You'll see," he replied cryptically, to which Lance snorted but remained silent. JC sighed. "Look, Lance..."
"No. Don't explain yourself. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear anything you might have to say to me."
"It's going to make for a long drive..."
"I don't give a fuck. This isn't some game, JC! You...kidnapped...me! You put a fucking gun to my head and threatened to kill me if I didn't get in the car!" Lance's heated words filled the car and it was on the tip of JC's tongue to tell Lance that the gun wasn't loaded, but he decided it wasn't the right time for that piece of information. "Some fucking friend you were," Lance mumbled those last words under his breath as he turned back to face the window.
"What did you just say?!" JC demanded, ready to pull the car to the side of the road and fight it out then and there. "Some friend I was? What about you, Lance?! What about you?!" Lance didn't reply. He continued to ignore JC. "Friends don't turn their back on you when something bad happens! Friends don't desert you when the going gets tough, Lance!" JC said his name derisively, spitting it out as though it were a rotten piece of fruit. Lance remained silent and JC took in a breath to continue his diatribe, but stopped abruptly when he caught sight of Lance's reflection in the window. A single tear rolled down Lance's cheek and JC frowned, squashing the concern he felt at seeing Lance cry. Neither one said another word as JC continued northward towards the swamps of Northern Florida.
**
The first sign of trouble came in the form of a radio announcement. JC had left the jazz station on, playing softly in the background. He quickly turned the radio up once he heard his name.
"...Chasez grabbed Mr. Bass and placed the gun against his head. He threatened both the guard and Mr. Bass with the gun before forcing Mr. Bass into his car and speeding out of the parking lot. The police believe that Chasez has intentions of fleeing the state of Florida by either car or plane. Roadblocks are being set up in various locations across the state and all airports are being monitored. The state police have implored all civilians to not get involved in trying to apprehend Chasez considering that he is armed and dangerous and currently has a hostage with him.
Chasez's hostage, Mr. Lance Bass, was a former band mate of Chasez's. Townsend's security guard claims that the two were arguing heatedly before he interrupted. Apparently, after Chasez's trial, in which information regarding Mr. Bass's sexual..."
Lance quickly leaned forward and turned the radio off.
"Lance..." JC started, his voice soft and apologetic.
"No, JC," was Lance's sharp reply.
"No, what? I was only..."
"I...don't...want...to...talk...to...you. Is that so hard to understand?" Lance asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. JC frowned and bit his tongue, hoping to prevent himself from saying something he'd regret later. As he turned his attention the road in front of him, his eyes widened. A few miles down the road, the flashing lights of several police cars could be seen. Lance couldn't help the satisfied smirk that crossed his lips and JC scowled at him. He quickly took stock of the situation and realized that there was an exit ramp before the roadblock. JC slowed down and pulled off the freeway, completely unsure of where they were.
"Where the fuck are we?" he asked himself quietly as he took a right off the exit. They looked to be in the middle of nowhere. A truck rest stop was the only building in the area. JC drove a few miles down the road and pulled onto the shoulder when he realized that the rest stop was the only sign of civilization. "Don't move. Do you understand me?" JC asked Lance, his eyes pinning the younger man to his seat. Lance didn't say anything, but his mouth tightened and he nodded. JC was sure that Lance wouldn't give him any trouble. He reached into the back seat and pulled out the large manila folder containing the directions to Justin's cabin and the state map.
He pulled out Justin's directions and scanned them quickly, relief pulsing through him once he noticed that not only had Justin supplied him with main route directions, but he had also scribbled down a couple of alternate routes, routes that didn't hit any of Florida's major highways. He thanked Justin mentally and reminded himself to give the younger man the biggest hug he could muster the next time they met. It took him five minutes to figure out exactly where they were. With more confidence, JC glanced at his passenger and put the car in gear.
"I now know where I'm going. Isn't that comforting, Lance?" JC asked almost jokingly. When Lance didn't reply, JC sighed in resignation and pulled back onto the road, intent on getting them to Justin's cabin in one piece and finally trying to break through Lance's cold armor.
**
The sun was nearing the western horizon as the car turned off a paved country road onto an unmarked dirt road. Wild grass grew up on either side of the road and in the middle between worn tire ruts. Above the rarely used road, the sprawling, finger-like limbs of living oak trees, draped romantically with Spanish moss, blocked out most of the meager light provided by the setting sun and JC quickly turned on the car's headlights. The bright lights glinted off stagnant pools of water at the side of the road. There were no signs of life except for the occasional flash of an opossum's beady eyes as it scurried across the sandy road.
The pair in the car had remained stubbornly silent throughout the entire three-hour journey. The radio provided the only sound and the tension grew between them at the hourly updates of JC's escape and Lance's abduction. JC had kept a wary eye out for the police. He was thankful that they'd only passed by a few state patrol cars that seemed more focused on stopping speeders than catching a prison escapee.
Fifteen miles down the road, Justin's cabin sat waiting for them in the dark. The cabin was situated just beyond Osceola National Park's boundaries and the nearest neighbors were another twenty miles away. As JC turned off the car and opened the door he motioned Lance with the gun.
"You don't have to keep threatening me with that thing," Lance said unhappily as he pulled himself out of the car.
"Sorry," JC muttered as he grabbed his bag out of the back and headed towards the house. He stuck the gun in his waistband and watched Lance through hooded eyes as he followed behind the younger man. The constant background noise of the crickets and occasional call of a bird filled the dark night air. The outside of the cabin was unremarkable. Wooden logs made up the outside walls and it looked fairly rundown. JC knew for a fact that Justin only used the cabin once a year, but he expected the inside to be more reflective of the kind of lifestyle Justin was living. As they climbed the steps of the front porch, JC noticed that there was a note pinned to the door.
'Josh, I had someone come in a clean up the place. It should be stocked and ready for you to use for as long as you need it. I still can't believe you did this (I'm assuming you did this if you're reading this note). Anyway, don't worry about a thing, anything of mine is yours. I know I can't call you or talk to you, so good luck. Love always, Justin.'
"Aww, how sweet!" Lance said sarcastically as he read over JC's shoulder. JC jerked away from Lance and frowned at him as he crumpled up the note. He knew that one of the keys on the key ring was to the cabin and he fumbled with them, trying each key until he hit on the right one. He swung the door open and motioned for Lance to go first.
JC knew he could expect a certain amount of lavishness, but even he was amazed at the quality of the interior of Justin's cabin. Justin had gone all out. The front door opened up into the living room area, which was large and spacious. The polished wooden floor gleamed up at them and JC's first urge was to take off his shoes. At the center of the room sat a large circular fireplace, its smokestack rising and disappearing into the ceiling. The walls were made of smooth, dark stones except for the far wall, which was made of floor to ceiling windows. They could barely make out the dark swamp beyond the cabin. The plush furniture and occasional expensive rug were done in warm, earthy colors, green and maroon. In one corner, a large piano sat gleaming softly in the warm light of the room just begging JC's fingers to touch it.
Lance whistled lowly in envy and appreciation before he continued to explore the rest of the house. JC followed closely behind him, unwilling to let Lance out of his sights. He dropped the bag on the floor, pulled off his baseball hat, and followed Lance into a nearby hallway. The hallway proved short and led directly to the kitchen, which was fairly small. Lance was completely aware of JC's attention and he glanced at the older man with something close to amusement.
"I'm not going try and escape, if that's what you're worried about." JC just raised an eyebrow at him skeptically.
"Why not?" he asked. Lance smirked at him, but didn't reply and JC wanted to scream. He couldn't figure Lance out. Lance was acting as though he didn't mind being here, but JC knew that couldn't possibly be the truth. What exactly was Lance trying to do?
The pair remained silent as they explored the small house until they came upon the bedroom.
"There's only one bedroom," Lance said unhappily, pointing out the obvious. JC nodded a small smile on his face.
"Does that make you uncomfortable?" Lance shook his head quickly.
"NO! No, I mean, I'll just sleep on one of the couches in the living room," he offered, his mind already on trying to escape later that night while JC was asleep in the large four-poster bed that dominated the bedroom. JC snorted.
"I don't think so. We'll share this bed," he said, a certain amount of finality in his strong voice. Lance stared at him as though he'd sprouted another head.
"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you."
"Yes, you are, Lance. I don't want to hear anything else about it. As much as I wish I could, I can't trust you to not escape." Lance started to protest. "No, Lance. I'm serious. Come with me to the kitchen. I'll see if I can make us something to eat." Lance huffed silently, but followed JC anyway.
**
Justin hadn't been lying about the cabin being well stocked in his note. JC found an overabundance of food practically falling out of the pantry and the refrigerator. He quickly cooked a pot of noodles and spaghetti sauce and made several pieces of garlic bread. Between the both of them, they devoured the meal.
"We're gonna have to talk about this sooner or later, Lance. I'd prefer sooner considering we'll probably be spending awhile here together," JC said abruptly as he put down his fork. He pushed his chair away from the small wooden table they ate off of and put his napkin on his plate. He wanted to talk to Lance to get everything out in the air between them. JC just wanted to make the situation a little easier for the both of them.
Lance looked up at him as he swallowed his last bite of food. He sighed before pushing his chair back and standing up. He picked up his plate and carried it to the sink. JC watched him walk away and remained silent; he knew that it was up to Lance whether or not they talked at all. After placing his plate in the sink, Lance put his hands on the counter and leaned on it heavily, refusing to look at JC.
"Why did you come to see me today?" Lance asked softly, his back facing JC. JC almost smiled in relief. This was a start.
"I wanted to see you again. I never planned on kidnapping you, I want you to know that. I just wanted to see you^Åtalk to you once more before I left for the cabin. There are some things I feel I need to explain."
"You should've gone straight to the cabin, JC."
"Lance..."
"I don't want you in my life anymore. I didn't visit you in prison for a reason." Lance's voice grew in strength and he suddenly turned around to face JC. His eyes were the color of dark emeralds and JC was shocked at the level of anger and hurt he saw there. "Let me go, JC. Just let me walk out of the cabin and out of your life and..."
"I can't do that, Lance," JC interrupted, shaking his head.
"Yes, you can...we don't ever have to see each other again."
"You know where the cabin is. I can't let you leave."
"So you're just going to keep me here? Until when, JC? Huh?" Lance asked angrily, his hands moving quickly to emphasize his point. "When the police show up on the doorstep or until we die of old age? When?"
"I don't know!" JC shouted as he stood up from his chair. "I don't know, Lance! This is all new to me...I've never escaped from prison before!"
"I refuse to stay here until you clear your name! That is what you're trying to do, isn't it?" Lance asked with a smirk on his face. "Come on, JC. You were convicted of MURDER! Do you honestly think that anyone will ever believe you?"
"Shut up!" JC growled as he neared the younger man. Lance ignored him.
"It's been an entire fucking year, JC. No one believed you then and no one is going to believe you now. Just let it the fuck go and do your time!"
"NO! I did not kill Meredith! I didn't! I refuse to go back to that shit hole and live in that fucking cell and waste away because of crime I didn't commit! I FUCKING REFUSE!" JC shouted in Lance's face. His blue eyes flashed furiously and he had Lance pinned against the counter, his finger poking Lance's chest repeatedly. "I'm going to prove it goddammit! I'm going to prove it to the police. The world. But most of all, I'm going to prove it to you, Lance, even if you are the last person on this earth that deserves any sort of explanation from me." With one final livid glance, JC turned on his heels and left the kitchen, leaving Lance in openmouthed astonishment.
As JC left the kitchen and entered the living room, the first thing that caught his gaze was the black piano. He practically ran to it, running his hands over it hungrily. JC circled the entire instrument, his hands continually moving along its smooth, polished exterior. When he reached the bench he sat down and lifted the cover off of the ivory keys. His long fingers ran over the keys almost sensually, reacquainting himself with their feel and texture.
Lance was drawn out of the kitchen as the first few discordant notes filled the air. The sight of JC hunched over the piano brought back so many memories for him, some good, some bad. He watched silently as JC's slender fingers moved over the keys, trying to find some melody, but all he heard were singular notes, all ringing in the air strongly but refusing to come together to form music. JC slammed his palms down on the keys in complete frustration, a sob ripping from his throat. The loud noise made Lance jump in surprise. He frowned as he watched JC's eyes close in anguish, tears sliding down his cheeks. When JC leaned his head forward to rest against the top of the piano, his hands falling into his lap, Lance started to move closer but he stopped himself. He watched JC cry for another minute, emotions raging through his body. There were so many emotions that he wasn't sure what he was feeling at the moment, only that he was torn between comforting JC and leaving the older man to his own devices. In the end, he decided to leave JC alone. He walked towards the bedroom, intent on taking a shower to ease away most of the day's troubles. He was sure that he wouldn't be able to make all of them disappear, but he knew that a hot shower wouldn't hurt.
**
Two hours later, after Lance had taken a shower and slipped beneath the fluffy, feather comforter, JC entered the room. Lance closed his eyes enough so that he could watch JC while JC assumed that he was asleep. He saw JC glance at the bed and then look away; his face was weary and tear-stained. JC turned his back to the bed and pulled off his T-shirt. Lance watched the tight muscles in JC's back move fluidly and he continued to watch as JC unsnapped his jeans and bent over to push them down his legs. When JC eased his boxer shorts down over his tight ass and pushed them down his legs, Lance swallowed harshly and squeezed his eyes shut tightly. When he opened his eyes again, JC had disappeared into the bathroom and the sounds of rushing water filled the room. Eventually, Lance drifted off to sleep with thoughts of JC running through his mind instead of thoughts of escape.
**
Thirty minutes later, JC reentered the bedroom, his gaze settling on Lance's still form. The huge bed seemed to swallow Lance up and the younger man seemed incredibly small beneath the covers. The bed itself was draped in silky white cloth and JC smiled in amusement at Justin's flamboyance. His smile quickly faded away as his thoughts returned to the piano sitting in the living room. He had lost the music. He'd lost the ability to play the music he loved and he didn't think anything could hurt more. He was wrong, though; Lance could hurt him more than that, more than never being able to play music ever again. He realized that Lance had so much power over him, more power than he was willing to admit. He'd actually escaped prison, burning with the desire to prove himself innocent to Lance. If he were honest with himself, it was all about Lance...the escape, everything. He wasn't sure why, though, and that thought bugged him.
He untied the towel from around his waist and pulled his old boxer shorts back on. He decided that he would look through Justin's clothes tomorrow for clean stuff, but in the meantime, he just wanted to sleep. JC walked towards the bed slowly and pulled back the comforter. He slid beneath the covers and sighed as he sunk into the feather mattress. JC turned his head to the right and watched Lance sleep; the younger man's breathing was even and his mouth was opened slightly. His eyelashes fluttered against his pale cheeks and JC resisted the urge to reach out and touch Lance's smooth skin. Instead, he rolled over, his back to Lance, and closed his aching eyes. He was asleep in less than five minutes.
**
That's that guys. How will JC prove his innocence? Will Justin cave when the police question him since JC kidnapped Lance? Will Lance and JC finally realize that they're madly in love with each other? I don't know...we'll see. :) Thank y'all! Robin nsajscgirl@yahoo.com