Under Management

Author's Note:

Things are finally beginning to progress in this story, but that doesn't mean anything will be getting easier for the characters, nor does it mean that I won't be dealing with some very complex issues. Those 'bumps in the road' are just around the corner; sit tight folks.

If you have any comments or constructive criticism or whatever then e-mail me: mystories@btinternet.com

In addition to that, you may have already noticed that this chapter is slightly longer than normal. To be honest I would have preferred to have it shorter and release it earlier, but the final scene seemed to grow exponentially as I wrote it. This is a fairly important chapter to the story as a whole and I'd really appreciate feedback after it. Now for the legalities...

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. I don't know or own any of the celebrities mentioned in it. I also don't know anything about the personalities or sexual orientations of any of the members of *NSYNC, and the purpose of this story is not to imply anything about them. Secondly, this story contains adult themes and content as well as gay relationships. If you're too young to, or don't want to, read what's contained within, then leave now. Everyone else, enjoy...

Under Management by Tris

Chapter 15

I was woken up early on Saturday morning by the dawn sun shining right onto my face. I blinked a few times and squinted trying to focus on my surroundings. I felt very disoriented as I looked around and saw nothing but blades of grass, then I remembered the night before and, putting two and two together, decided we must have fallen asleep together on the picnic blanket.

Lance was holding onto me tightly, his head resting on my naked chest. With his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. With the sunlight filtering through his golden blonde tipped hair, Lance looked almost like a deity. It was an awkward feeling being pinned underneath him, and yet pleasant nonetheless. His warm breath tickled my nipple as he exhaled, and I couldn't help but grin.

Not wanting to wake him, I laid still and simply watched Lance, my boyfriend, sleep serenely into the morning. Laying there, gazing at him, I couldn't help but let my mind wander. Things were finally looking up for me; I had been given a break and landed myself a great job, working with great people and being paid well for it. Granted, there was stress and mountains of paperwork and always another contract to sign or phone call to make but I was enjoying myself. Then there was my family, no unexpected phone calls from my father. My brother, forgetting the recent problems, was doing well in school and was certainly not the recluse that I once was. My Mum was happy with her part-time job and charity work, and she had even started dating recently.

I frowned a little when I thought of my friends; I had let things slip with Susie, only one five minute phone conversation in the last week. That first negative thought brought others, well two anyway - JC and Ben. JC was a nice guy, but I sensed something when I was around him, I didn't know what, maybe sorrow, perhaps regret. Whatever it was, it was this that was standing between him and Lance and not some inherent homophobia. He was a smart guy and above something like that, surely. Ben was a puzzle, difficult to read and even more difficult to get along with after I saw him hitting on Lance the other night... if indeed that was what I thought it was. My confusion turned once more to happiness as I looked back at Lance, Lance my boyfriend.

As the sun began to gain strength and the temperature rose I felt him stir a little, and then, seconds later, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal his stunning emerald eyes. Just like I did, he looked around and tensed up, before he focused on me and recalled last night. He relaxed then and broke into that silly goofy grin. "Mornin'" He said sleepily, as he absentmindedly ran his hand through the light dusting of hair between my pecs, just inches from his face.

"Good morning," I replied, beaming. He studied my face, before reaching down to scratch his calf. His eyes then returned to my chest.

"They make us wax." He mumbled idly, to which I giggled a little. He ignored me and remained where he was, tracing random patterns over my heart. When he was more awake he gained a puzzled expression, "How long have you been up?" He asked.

"A while..." I answered, but continued before he could say anything, "I was enjoying the silence, dreading going back to my apartment where I have stacks of paper piled up, cluttering my office." I paused, noticing his eyes sparkle as I ran a hand over his cheek, "And I was watching you sleep, you seemed so peaceful..."

Lance blushed at that and looked back down at the hair which fascinated him so much, returning us to the quiet. Soon though, he frowned and scratched his leg again. He sat up, tickling me as his hair, now lacking the customary gel, moved over my skin. "Ugh" He groaned, looking down at his legs.

"What?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows. I then saw what he was moaning about; his legs, both of them, as well as some of his lower torso were covered in small red lumps, mosquito bites. "Damn... they got you good." I commented.

"Yeah, and didn't get you at all." He grumbled, surveying my legs. I did the same, and true to Lance's word I was totally bite free. I could never work out why that was; some people got savaged by mosquitoes while others could escape with only a bite or two. Weird.

I sat up fully, taking in our semi-naked bodies, only our crotches were covered by the folded checkered blanket, which we were not only laying under but also on top of. I wrapped an arm around Lance's bare shoulders and hugged him towards me, "We'll stop by a pharmacy on the way back, and get you some anti- histamine cream or something."

"Oh..." He purred, "I wasn't planning on leaving..." He snickered before pouncing on top of me, our limp penises pressed between our bodies. The quick movement caused the makeshift bedcover to be pulled away, exposing Lance's round butt. He gave me a gentle kiss on the lips, before breaking away and twisting his neck awkwardly to see his exposed state. A light shade of pink crept up his neck and spread to his cheeks. He pulled away from me and laughed, "Actually, if you don't mind... I'm feeling a little... uh... on display."

"Sure Lance." I chuckled, realizing that despite being paid to perform in front of thousands of people on a regular basis, he didn't have a particularly strong exhibitionist streak. With that, Lance reached across me to a pile of crumpled clothes, "How come our stuff ended up on the wrong sides?" I asked, still laughing.

"Uh... Alex..." Lance deadpanned, "I think it's us who are on the wrong side."

"Yeah" I laughed, stretching over him to gather my own clothes. I stopped dead when Lance gasped, inhaling sharply.

"Oh my gosh!" He cried, gripping me firmly by my shoulders and pulling me up into a sitting position. "Alex! Have you seen your back?"

"My back?" I responded, confused, thinking that perhaps the mosquitoes had actually got me. Then I realized what he was fussing over, "Oh" I sighed as the penny dropped.

"When... how... what did you do?" He stammered, obviously alarmed by the extensive scarring on my shoulder blades and down my spine. I had to admit that it didn't look very nice, but it happened so long ago that I hardly ever thought twice about it when I noticed it in the mirror. And since I hadn't had a boyfriend for so long, I hadn't really had the reaction for a while either.

"That was... uh... a little accident I had a few years back." I giggled, trying to make light of it as I looked upon Lance's paled face.

"Little!" He exclaimed, but before he could ask anything else I decided just to tell him and not draw it out as he seemed to be turning a little green.

"Remember how last night you said you liked to drive... to just get away from everything and everyone and just drive?" I asked. He nodded, his lips pressed tightly together, "Well...so did I... only when I went out for a drive I usually went really fast and... I didn't have a car; I had a bike, pretty similar to the one I've got now actually." I explained.

"You were in an accident? On a motorcycle?" He choked out, still with a distinct shade of white; I was almost worried he was going to throw up.

"Yeah, it was wet and I was going fast. Thankfully no one but me was hurt... I dislocated my shoulders and in fact mashed the right one up pretty bad, and they were worried I had damaged my spine so they put a metal rod in it. It's all healed up now though, so everything's okay, right?" I wanted to check that he wasn't going to pass out on me. After a few seconds he shook his head, in an unconscious attempt at clearing the images from his head.

"Uh... yeah... everything's okay." He answered, and then apologized, "Sorry, I'm not very good with gore and stuff... and just the thought of you in hospital..." He allowed his voice to trail off.

Not wanting him to dwell on that thought I quickly stood and started pulling my pants on followed by my shirt, shortly after Lance did the same. While he was buttoning up his dress shirt he asked, "You did enjoy yourself didn't you... I mean... I didn't get these bites for nothing?"

"Of course I did. Trust me Lance if I wasn't liking something I would have mentioned it." I responded, but then broke into laughter, "Actually, that was kind of proven by that little incident..."

"Oh." Lance smiled remembering, as a deep blush came to his cheeks, "I was hoping you would forget that." He said sheepishly. Then, without warning, I quickly kissed him, and when we broke apart I grinned.

"How could I forget those teeth, Mr. Bass?" I giggled.

When we were both totally dressed, excluding shoes and socks, we packed up the hamper, being sure not leave anything behind, and carefully walked back towards the 4Runner. I was still a little unsure about paddling across the creek, but figured it was the only to get back to civilization so after a moment's hesitation I jumped in after my boyfriend.

"Lance where are we going now?" I asked, slightly uncertain, as we scaled the bank of the stream.

"Uh... the car!" He answered, sounding slightly condescending, but extending his hand to help me up the slope. I accepted it and he pulled me to the top, but didn't release my hand.

"I know that." I laughed, "I meant where are we going after we get to the car?"

"Oh. I see what you mean." He smiled, as he placed the basket back into the trunk, "Your place or mine?" He then scratched his leg, followed by his stomach.

"Mine... I'm a city boy at heart." I giggled, climbing into the four by four.

"Hey, I live in the city!" He defended loudly; but when he opened the driver's side door I caught him out.

"Lance, what's the name of your closest neighbor?" I asked, trying to remain serious, as I already knew the answer he would give.

"I don't have any..." He began, but seeing my raised eyebrow, he realized his mistake and shrugged. "Your place it is." He stated as he slid into the driver's seat, and released the parking brake. He then reached down to his ankle, "I need something for this damn itching anyway." He grumbled under his breath. I just laughed.

I felt Lance's breath tickle the back of my neck as he looked over my shoulder, studying the paperwork in front of me. He draped his arms around me and clasped his hands together over my chest; he squeezed gently in another attempt at distracting me. "Alex," He whispered into my ear, "I'm getting bored; you wanna come get freaky on the couch?" His tongue flicked out and ran over my lobe. I giggled, not at the sensation but at his actions.

"I'm working Lance, I warned you that I had to catch up on this but you said you wanted to stay. You even said you'd help, which you did for the first hour..." I said, as seriously as I could but then he interrupted me.

"Awww... come on Al," He giggled, squeezing tighter and pressing his cheek against my own, his stubble scratching my face. "You've been 'catching up' for nearly four hours and you didn't even take a break for lunch."

"Alright then." I finally agreed, sliding out from his grip. I placed the cap back on my pen but didn't get a chance to set it down as Lance grabbed me by the hand and tugged me into the lounge. I dropped the pen to the floor, not really caring about it, but watching it roll under the desk anyway. I was released as Lance flopped down onto the couch, so I sat at the other end, Indian style. "As you've dragged me away from my work, there's something I want to talk to you about..."

"I knew it was too good to be true," he mock-sulked, folding his arms

"I wanted to talk about coming out Lance." I said, getting serious.

"Coming out?" He blinked in confusion, "I'm already out... You mean to my parents... oh no... oh no... or the public... no way... there's no way I'm ready to..."

"Lance!" I silenced him, resting my palm on his forearm, "I didn't mean you." I smirked at his panic stricken face, "I was thinking of me and then... us." Lance swallowed and took a few deep breaths before he spoke.

"You want to tell the guys, about you, and about us." He repeated my sentiment, as if to check that he heard me correctly.

"Yeah, but I wanted to talk to you about it first." I said carefully, as I had clearly caught him off guard. Lance didn't reply at first, he simply drew his legs up to his chest, defensively. His expression gradually transformed from being scared to being thoughtful. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, his legs dropped back down and he folded them copying me.

"I guess..." He started, he was a little hesitant but still continued, "I guess, if you want to tell the guys about yourself then you should, it's your decision after all."

"But I won't if you don't want me to..." I paused, "Okay, I should probably tell you something; when I talked to Justin he kind of said they were worried that you weren't talking to them anymore, that you were spending too much time with me."

Lance gasped, "You think they're on to us?" His panicked look returned. I tried to calm him by taking his hand and gently caressing the back of it with my thumb. I almost giggled at his overreaction but I didn't want him to feel stupid, so I suppressed it.

"Lance, it's not as though we're planning a bank robbery, we're doing nothing wrong... it doesn't really matter if they know, does it?" I asked softly.

"No..." He frowned, "but I'm worried about the band, they might want a different manager or they might refuse to work with you... or... or..." He stopped, and sighed. I clutched his hand to reassure him, "Its just different y'know, telling them I'm gay to actually being gay."

"I know..." I smiled, and seeing that I was getting nowhere, I conceded, "We'll leave it for a while..."

"But you can come out if you want." He added eagerly.

"We'll wait Lance." I said firmly, ending the conversation. Lance obviously wasn't as comfortable with all this as I thought he was.

We sat on the couch awkwardly, in a clumsy silence that I couldn't stand for long. But instead of sparking up a new discussion, I picked up the television remote and surfed through the channels. As I flicked through the music channels, I realized that I was constantly engulfed in music for my work, why spend time watching it on TV too? I eventually reached the news stations, and noticed Lance leaning forward, taking more interest. We ended up watching the hourly bulletin on CNN. We sat there watching, or at least pretending to watch, the recent goings on around the world. In reality we weren't looking at the news broadcast but each other. I would cast Lance a quick glance and then look back, and from the corner of my eye I would see him do the same. Once, we both chose the same moment to look across, our eyes met, but then we quickly looked back, blushing slightly. The next time I checked I saw a marked difference in Lance's face, the corner of his mouth was slightly upturned hinting at a smile, I sensed he was about to turn so I hastily faced front, grinning.

After we were versed in recent happenings, and were watching the sports update Lance inched closer to me. A minute or so later I did the same to him, sliding over the couch. By the time the weather report had begun our shoulders were touching. I could feel the warmth through our thin shirts, but we still hadn't looked each other in the eye, apart from that one brief moment, although that, apparently, was forgotten.

"Alex?" Lance asked softly, careful not to take his eyes from the television.

"Yeah?"

"Wanna get freaky now?" His voice remained flat, casual.

"Sure." I responded in the same manner. With that, he twisted towards me, bringing one leg up onto the couch. He brought this hand to my chin and pulled my lips to his. He leaned on me, causing me to fall back onto the couch with him on top of me. Without breaking the kiss, or opening my eyes, I stretched out to the side table and groped around for the remote; eventually I found it and keyed the off button. The television flickered off, leaving our groans of appreciation as the only sounds in the apartment.

"Ungh!" Lance sighed as he ground his aroused, confined cock against my own. We groped and twisted and moaned in pleasure as we brought each other closer to climax. Somehow, considering the confines of the couch, we switched places, leaving me on top. My boyfriend's hands ran raggedly up my back as they found their way beneath my shirt, whereas mine kneaded and cupped his firm, round ass cheeks.

Then, suddenly, we heard a sound - the front door opening. We both froze. There was a split second where time seemed to stop while our minds raced to think who would be entering. I, of course knew that it was more than likely my brother stopping by on the way home from football practice. Lance though, not knowing this, bucked and tried to sit up to make himself more presentable. In his hurry however, he forgot that I was on top of him and his actions threw me off the sofa. I landed on the floor with a thump.

My head ached and I felt a little dazed as I sat up to the sound of hysterical laughter. Jesse stood on the threshold doubled over and flushed, giggling uncontrollably.

I glanced up at Lance, to gauge his reaction; he was also flushed a deep red, but in his case it was from embarrassment; however he seemed to see the funny side as well, as a smirk crept onto his face. I grinned at him, catching his eye, while rubbing the back of my head.

"Oh guys!" My brother wheezed, "That was a classic!"

"Ah shuddup!" I groaned, smiling despite the pain.

"Okay, okay, give me a second." Jesse huffed, struggling to regain his breath. He came over to us and slumped into a chair opposite.

"Sorry." Lance apologized as he held out his hand to pull me up.

"That's alright. But next time try to remember that everyone who has a key knows about us, so there's no need to panic quite as much." I laughed, sitting back onto the couch.

"I'll try." Lance shrugged.

"So shrimp," I began addressing my teenaged brother who was actually close to my height and far bulkier, "What can I do for you?"

"How do you know I'm not just here to say 'Hi'?" He asked teasingly.

"On a Saturday? After a training session with Coach Chamber's? You're normally so tired you slink back home for few hours shuteye... what makes today any different?" I asked not sure if I really wanted to know the answer.

"Uh... well..." He hesitated.

"Spit it out." I hurried him. Lance, beside me, gave a small chuckle.

"Well... I was kinda... um... I was hoping maybe you'd let me go out tonight?" He stuttered, and then gave me his best puppy dog eyes.

"With Justin again, right?" I clarified.

"Uh... yeah, how'd you know that?" His eyebrow rose.

"If it wasn't you wouldn't be so nervous about asking me." I stated smugly.

"Oh... Josh is coming too, and I guess you could as well.... only I thought you two would be... well... you know... and I guess I was right." He laughed.

"Look, we talked about this..." I paused as Lance shifted, probably feeling uncomfortable. I rested my hand on his thigh and then continued, "We agreed that you could go out and stay out as long as it isn't a school night and only drink if you think you're mature enough to know when to stop."

"I can do that." He nodded.

I frowned at him, narrowing my eyes. He caught on quickly and shrugged, "Okay, so I won't drink."

"Good. In that case, sure you can go. What time are they meeting you?" I asked, adopting a parental tone. I always inwardly winced when I heard my voice like that; thinking that maybe I was being to harsh or not being 'brotherly' enough, whatever that meant.

"Actually..." He said at length, as he had a habit of doing. He always sounded more American than I did. Although after ten years of living in the country I could pass as a native fairly well, there were still certain words that I used that were distinctly British. I occasionally had a mental block and used 'pavement' and not 'sidewalk' or something of the like, which always seemed to gain a raised eyebrow or funny look. My brother though, probably because he was only seven when we moved here, could sound perfectly American all the time, and even slipped into a slight southern drawl sporadically; he blamed this on one of his friends who was from Missouri. I would normally pick him up on it, but this time I didn't. "They were gonna pick me up from here, 'cos it was easier than explaining the way home."

"So you're going clubbing like that?" Lance asked, confused.

"Nah, I brought something over earlier while you two were out, it's in my closet." He motioned to the guestroom.

"You mean, it's in my closet." I corrected.

"Which just happens to be full of my stuff." He giggled and then stopped in thought, "Where were you two this morning anyway?" He asked.

"The pharmacy." I answered.

"I got bitten pretty bad last night." Lance elaborated, raising a pant leg to show off some of the inflamed bites for effect.

"Whoa! What did you do?"

"Don't ask." I stopped him, holding up my hand, knowing that a wise crack was only seconds away. "Aren't you gonna get changed?"

"Yeah." He laughed at my tactful change of subject, "Can I use the shower?"

"Sure, go ahead." I waved him on. He sauntered into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"You're really good with him, y'know, considering you aren't that much older." Lance observed. "I guess we can't exactly continue where we left off now, can we?"

"That might be a bit difficult," I chuckled, "When did he say Justin and JC would be here?" "Uh... he didn't. I think." Lance answered, scratching his leg. "Um Alex... It's great that your brother's so comfortable with us, but... uh... he knows not to say anything to the guys, right?"

"Of course he does. When we were younger we had this big bust up, 'cos he told someone I was gay before I did... he knows not to say anything until he's sure they know." I explained, remembering.

Before Lance could say anything else, we heard the deep throaty rumble of an engine outside, we both looked towards the window as he stated, "Ten dollars it's the Dodge."

"I didn't peg you as a betting man."

"I only bet on certainties," He laughed, "Of his eight cars only three make a noise like that, the Ferrari, the Porsche and the Dodge Viper."

"So how d'you know it's the Dodge?" I asked, not surprised by Justin's car tally - I'd seen his house and the size of his garage.

"That's easy." Lance replied, "He drove the F350 to the studio last week, so he won't be seen in it until next week and I also happen to know the Porsche is in the shop. He couldn't stop talking about it yesterday... a new converter or carburetor or somethin'." He shrugged laughing, "I'm really not very good with cars."

I laughed as the intercom buzzed and Justin's voice came over the speaker, "Hey Jess, Alex, you there guys? It's us!"

I laughed as I walked over to the panel by the door, "He just assumes that I know who 'us' is?"

"Everybody knows Justin Timberlake," Lance chuckled.

I reached to press the button by the door, but stopped with my finger hovering over it, I turned to face Lance. "Are you going to be alright with JC coming up?"

"Sure." He replied, visibly downhearted, "I guess we've learned to agree to disagree. He doesn't speak to me, I don't speak to him."

"Oh..." I was surprised at the extent to which their relationship had changed in recent weeks; I suppose it was better than a verbal bashing every time they met but it was far from an ideal situation. I had hoped that things would improve over time, but that certainly didn't seem to be the case. I turned and pressed the intercom button, trying to hide my disappointment. "Hey guys." I said into the panel.

"Hey Alex, man. Can you buzz us up?" Justin asked chirpily.

"Sure thing." I answered, pressing the second button allowing the guys to come up. I then moved quickly to the closed guest room door, my eyes trained on the side of Lance's face. He was deep in thought.

I knocked on the guest room door, and called to Jesse, "Hey Jess! The guys are here! Hurry it up in there!" I vaguely heard a muffled 'Be right out'. However, the water was still running so that probably wasn't totally true.

Soon, someone rapped impatiently on the door and as I moved to open it I remembered what Justin had said about Lance spending so much time with me. The scene he was about to walk into would only serve to raise his suspicions, but there was nothing I could do about it. I again felt a pang of guilt about lying to them over this, but once more, it was really out of my control.

"Hey Just, Jayce." I nodded to them both and stepped aside to allow them to enter. "Jesse'll be along in a minute, he's just taking a shower."

"'Kay." Justin bounced in and soon caught sight of Lance, "Oh hey Scoop." Justin said, barely masking his surprise, "Didn't expect to see you here." JC meanwhile, in his infinite wisdom, sat as far from Lance as he could and didn't even acknowledge him.

"We... uh... we were... uh..." Lance struggled to explain.

"He came over to help me with some paperwork," I tried to cover for Lance, but I think Justin caught it.

"You still swamped? I mean, I thought Ben was supposed to be helping." JC said, leaning forward as he took an interest. Justin sat on the arm of the couch as I sat in a chair.

"Well, he is helping, with the tour stuff, but I've been so concerned with getting that organized I've kind of let the other stuff slip." I clarified.

"Oh. If you ever need an extra pair of hands..." JC offered.

"Sure, if you want any help with anything, just ask. We'll try our best." Justin added. There was a pause as I smiled my appreciation at the two of them.

"Where are you guys going tonight?" Lance asked, in an attempt at getting in on the conversation.

"You know that club that opened last week downtown, remember, we got invites to the first night but none of us went?" Justin began brightly. Lance nodded, yes. "Tonight they're having a foam party!" He grinned.

"A foam party?" I queried apprehensively. Justin was about to say something when JC cut him off.

"Well keep an eye on Jesse Alex. Don't worry about it." He reassured me, sensing my change in demeanor when the venue was mentioned.

"Isn't it a bit early for clubbing?" Lance asked, checking his wristwatch.

"Ah, we'll kill the time somehow." Justin smiled, his teeth glinting and eyes sparkling. It made me even more uneasy.

"Just no alcohol. He's seventeen." I stated.

"Aww, come on, one or two aren't gonna..." Justin stopped when he noticed my stern glare. He looked to JC for support but his friend gave nothing away. Justin shrugged, "Sure, no alcohol."

"Hey guys! You ready to go?" My brother asked as he breezed into the sitting area.

"Yeah." Justin stood eagerly, JC did so wordlessly.

"You sure you don't wanna come along." Jesse asked Lance and me, a hint of mischief evident on his face.

"Thanks but no." I answered, offering no explanation, cautious of where this could lead - a joking insinuation about Lance and I spending the night together, which would lead to my boyfriend blushing, and Justin thinking a little too hard about things.

"Ok then, see ya!" Jesse called, leading his two playmates out of the apartment. He knew when not to push his luck.

"Bye guys." Lance and called together.

"See ya!" Came Justin's solitary reply.

When I looked back around, I saw Lance grinning above me. His pearly white teeth were becoming a more and more common sight. He had one hand on his hip and another placed casually into a pocket. His head was cocked to one side and his eyes half closed, lazily, in an obvious attempt at looking sexy. He had succeeded. "So where were we?" He asked huskily, in his deep burr, before pouncing on me.

It had been a hot and sticky night in Orlando, especially for Lance and I. We had skipped from bar to bar, never straying outside walking distance from my apartment, in the hope that he didn't get recognized. It had worked, for the most part, but the downside, or upside depending on how you look at it, was that we felt kind of obligated to have a round of drinks in each place. I wouldn't exactly say that we were paralytic, but the word 'buzzed' came to mind, and was probably an understatement.

"I didn't know you had so many bars so close to your apartment, we could'a gone to one of those last night, instead of being eaten alive." Lance laughed, slurring slightly.

"I wasn't eaten alive." I giggled, before realizing the sexual connotation of the statement, "Uh... Actually..." I broke into fits of laughter, gasping in sharp breaths of air in managed to finish the sentiment, "I kinda was 'eaten' alive." I made quote marks with my index fingers.

Lance blinked, confused, and not getting the joke, but because of the drink he started laughing anyway. I calmed myself down and saw my apartment block at the end of the street. "Hey look we're nearly there." I pointed at the building; I seemed to have a knack of stating the obvious when I was intoxicated.

"Hey Alex?" Lance asked, suppressing a hiccup. His brow creased in thought as he tried desperately to concentrate, "Y'know that girl back in that bar?"

"What girl Lance? We must've seen a million girls in last few hours." I said dopily.

"That one that was flirting with me, she followed us from the first place to the second, but you wouldn't believe me, and then in the third place she came over to me again..." Lance babbled, tripping over his words as he pieced together an extended sentence.

As I heard him say it though, I felt all of the emotions of the time come flooding back to me, the green eyed monster had paid me a visit when she had sat down next to Lance and started talking to him. Being the gentleman that he his, he bought her a drink and politely asked her to tell him everything about herself. In a sober state I probably would've put it down to his southern upbringing and reminded myself that he was gay, but I found myself getting a little jealous - deep rooted worries about him leaving me? Possibly, but it was more than likely due to one too many Jack Daniels.

"What're you asking Lance?" I shook the thoughts from head and interrupted his drunken ramblings.

"What I'm trying to say is... is..." He paused, his nose crinkling comically as he focused, "Do you think she liked me? 'Cos, you know, she was... uh... curvaceous, and it would be kind of flattering if..."

"Of course she liked you!" I laughed, in an attempt to hide my jealousy; but I couldn't resist giving myself away, if only for a little reassurance, "So... uh... did you like her?" I asked awkwardly. Lance started giggling again.

"D'uh!" He exclaimed, "I thought we'd talked about this like a billion times." He threw his head back, in one final outburst before he calmed himself. "I'm gay Alex. G. A. Y. That means I don't like girls, well, I do like girls, but not in that way."

"Okay. Just checkin'"

"Don't be jealous," the slurring returned, "She wasn't that good looking anyway."

"But you just said... Oh, don't worry about it." I shrugged, figuring that in our current condition a sensible conversation would be nigh on impossible. As an alternative I slipped my hand into Lance's and held it firmly.

We entered the parking lot of the apartment complex, and crossed it, taking the most direct route possible to the foyer. The small downstairs entrance hall was lit, as always. It seemed like a waste of power to me and I had suggested so much at the most recent resident's meeting. I was told that it made the place more homely and inviting; plus it stopped the sleazy old guy on the top floor from having an excuse to 'accidentally' press the wrong button again, and end up on someone else's floor, I thought to myself.

We weaved in and out of the parked cars, of which there were actually quite a few bearing in mind the time of night. We neared the foyer but Lance stopped suddenly, catching me by surprise. Our hands separated. I looked back at him and noticed a frown on his face. He then looked around, his eyes quickly scanning his surroundings.

"Did you hear that?" He asked, "Listen, there is it again." We both stood in the lot for a few minutes in silence; I heard nothing apart from the mechanical hum of the electricity substation and the sound of a single pickup passing by. Lance continued to frown and look around.

"Uh... Lance maybe we should get you inside. You have had quite a lot to drink tonight..." I suggested, taking his bicep in attempt to guide him inside. He silenced me by placing his index finger on my lips.

"I could've sworn I heard something, or maybe someone," he whispered. Then his ears pricked up again, his head snapping away to face somewhere in the distance. I followed his gaze and found myself looking at the corner of the building, and then I heard it too.

"Around there?" I asked quietly, nodding towards the noise.

"Yeah." He confirmed, in the same hushed tone, "It sounds like..."

"Like crying." I finished for him as the muffled noises turned into a much more pronounced sobbing, standing out in the quiet of the night. Our hands linked automatically as we padded forward, unsure of what to expect around the corner of the apartment block.

Just before we rounded the bend Lance's free hand reached up to my shoulder, stopping me, "Are you sure we should be checkin' this out" he asked, wide eyed.

"Are you kidding," I responded, "There could be someone hurt, like stabbed or mugged or whatever, and they might need our help." He nodded as I shrugged the hand off my shoulder. We proceeded around the building, but found nothing.

I subconsciously furrowed my brow, confused; everything was still slightly hazy thanks to the drink. I glanced back at Lance, unsure; he urged me to continue.

We followed the wall of the building, our hands firmly clasped together, drawing strength from each other. We stepped past a recess and Lance stopped, yanking me back to where he was standing. He was white as a sheet.

I looked down into the alcove and what I saw caused me to gag, and instantly sobered me up. I choked back the bile in my throat as I tried to comprehend what was in front of me.

There was a young kid; he looked to be in his mid teens. He was scrawny and dirty. The boy's face was flushed, covered with tear stains and dried blood. His eyebrow looked as though it had recently been split open. I couldn't see below his nose, as his mouth was covered by his folded arms, which along with his legs were drawn up into a tight ball.

Lank and greasy brown hair hung down to his collar, partly hiding several cuts and bruises on his shoulders and upper chest - revealed by his torn plaid shirt. My first thought, well, you might be able to guess my first thought after seeing the blood and torn clothing, but his pants seemed to be in tact, for that I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.

So far the teenager hadn't noticed me. I gave Lance a momentary look, but he had backed away a few paces and was still pale. It was only when my attention returned to the boy that I realized I had tears sliding down my own cheeks. I swallowed and wiped them from my eyes as I fought back months of painful memories that I had thought I had forgotten.

I crouched next to the kid, unable to stand by and not interfere any longer. He still didn't notice me. I took a very audible deep breath, and in my softest, most compassionate voice I said, "Hey"

The boy's head instantly came up, his eyes widened in a mixture of terror and panic. He scrambled back into the corner of the alcove, pushing himself with his heels. His breath caught in his throat. For a moment neither of us moved, time kind of paused and stretched for what seemed like ages before the kid started panting, hyperventilating and floods of tears streamed from each of his eyes.

The last thing I wanted was to make the kid go into full blown shock and cause him further problems, so I backed off. "Shhh... It's okay, it's okay," I repeated, trying to sooth him as I shimmied away.

When it looked like he was calming down and his breathing was returning to somewhere near normal, I tried talking to him again, "I don't want to hurt you," I started, "I only want to help, would it be alright if I did that?" He didn't react verbally but his body language told me to advance. His legs and arms, which were pulled tightly to his chest became less rigid, he relaxed slightly.

I closed the distance between us, "You've got some nasty scrapes there," I said gently, but he still didn't respond. So I reached for his cheek to take a look at one of the deeper cuts, but as my fingers neared his skin he flinched and moved away. His breathing sped up again and his posture closed. 'Damn, too fast, just take it slow Alex, slow and gentle' I mentally chided myself. My thoughts were still too cloudy to be doing this.

"Alex." Lance's voice broke the stalemate; he placed a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him from my crouching position and tried to smile, but couldn't. Lance, with a simple flick of his head and careful change of focus, asked me to step away. I looked back at the kid, unsure of what to do; at that point in noticed a change in the youngster's expression, but this was a familiar one. He had recognized Lance.

I slowly eased away and stood up, motioning with both hands to the kid to stay put, not that he would've gone anywhere, but it seemed right. When we were a few paces away Lance slowed and started to speak, his voice was serious, heavy, "What are we gonna do?" He asked, "I mean, should we call the cops... or maybe a homeless shelter?

"You really think they would do anything, especially at this time of night?" I couldn't help but look back at the kid.

"We've gotta try." He stated firmly. I, meanwhile, checked my watch, it was just past half three on a Sunday morning.

"Lance, you know how many homeless kids are in this city... in this state?" I asked. He shrugged, his mouth down turned. "Hundreds Lance. You think the cops'll do anything about one more? You think a shelter will have a bed at this time of night? No chance." I spat at the thought, and then with no conscious thought I looked up to the third floor. Lance caught it.

"Oh no, no way Alex." Lance warned, "You can't just take in some random kid off the street, I know you mean well but what if we wake up in the morning and he's gone and so has your television and stereo system. You don't know him... for God's sake, you're the one who's always going on about security and being cautious and..."

"Sometimes you gotta make exceptions." I snarled, pushing Lance away and stepping close to the kid, he looked up at me, his dark eyes lost and alone. I didn't want to push, so without a word I sat on the floor next to him and waited.

A few minutes passed before I heard footsteps and saw Lance towering above me. "Can I have a key to the apartment, please?" He asked emotionlessly. Angry, I could hardly look at him for fear that I would start yelling and terrify the teenager beside me. I pulled a bunch of keys from my jacket pocket and handed them to Lance. I never looked up.

The best thing to do in a situation like this was to wait it out. I had done this a few times before, although that was different because I was being paid and could sit in a cushioned leather chair, in a warm office, but I supposed the principle was the same. I waited, and waited, and waited. Sitting on the cold concrete I did nothing but sit and think, with an occasional glance at the kid, but he remained still and detached.

Nearly an hour later, I noticed the first signs of the kid becoming more comfortable. He shifted towards me gradually, until his hand was brushing against my own, despite this, I was becoming increasingly worried. The teen was shivering, his teeth chattered but then were suppressed, and then chattered again. When his hand touched mine it was icy cold. I couldn't wait any longer.

Very slowly, and very carefully I moved back into a crouching position, softly, I tried again, "Those cuts are pretty deep, someone should take a look at them." I didn't reach out to him this time, but I was rewarded with him looking right at me, for the first time he made eye contact. "What would you say about coming upstairs with me?" The kid looked dubious, but I was persistent, "You can have a shower or a bath and get some clean clothes... you don't have to stay if you don't want to, just get cleaned up."

I saw the faintest hint of a smile, which in the circumstances was probably the best I could hope for. I stood and the boy tried to do the same but found it really difficult, I did my best to help. He was still shivering and stone cold, so I draped my jacket over his shoulders and supported him as he limped inside. We took the elevator to my floor and stepped out. He still hadn't said a word but that didn't bother me, everyone dealt with stuff like this differently - some got angry, some cried, some took matters into their own hands and some clamed up.

I was worried how we would get into the apartment but saw that I didn't need to when we reached it. Lance had left the door on the latch; at least he was still partly considerate.

We went straight to the bathroom. I heard noises coming from the kitchen; I presumed Lance was still up. We entered the bathroom through the guest bedroom, and I sat the kid down on the toilet seat. "Okay, I just wanna get rid of the dirt from those cuts on your face." I said, as I rummaged through the mirrored bathroom cabinet. "Then I'll leave you to get cleaned up," I added and pulled out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and a wash cloth, which I wet in the sink.

"Are there any more bad ones, other than these on your face?" I asked tenderly. He looked away and answered me with only the tiniest shake of his head, no. "Okay. Try to stay still," I advised as I bought the damp cloth to his eyebrow. I wiped away most of the dirt and then moved on to his upper lip. It looked like he had had a really bad nose bleed as the downy hair there was stained a deep red. I finished on the deepest gash; on his collar bone. He winced a few times but stayed relatively motionless throughout the ordeal. I recognized the shape of the bruising on his neck when I was up close - finger marks, he had been throttled.

I threw the dirty cloth into the sink, and pulled a tissue from a box of Kleenex on the counter. "This is gonna sting a bit, but its necessary." I said, as I put some alcohol on the paper tissue. I gently reached to his forehead and dabbed the area around the split open eyebrow. It didn't look deep enough to require stitches, although I doubt I would've been able to get the kid to a hospital, at least not willingly. He pulled away as the stuff soaked into the cut, grimacing.

"I'm sorry, but I don't want it infected, and this'll help." I said. When he settled down again I started on his shoulder, but suddenly he pushed my hand away, yelping in pain, his flailing arm knocked the bottle of alcohol out of my hand. It splashed over my shirt and landed on the floor with a clink. It didn't smash.

I quickly put the bottle upright and grabbed a few more tissues to mop up the liquid. The poor guy started freaking out again, he paled and his panting started up once more. His knuckles turned white he gripped the rim of the toilet seat so tightly.

"Woah. Its okay, don't worry about it. Easily fixed." I gave him my best smile, but soon felt the alcohol sting my own skin as it seeped through my shirt. I looked down and saw a large round patch on the front of my shirt. "Uh... I guess I got a little wet." I tried to chuckle, letting him know that I wasn't angry. I shrugged and slid the shirt over my head, revealing my upper body, but I didn't think twice about that. Until, of course, I noticed the effect it had on the kid. He totally forgot about his accident and about gripping the toilet, in fact he became completely calm. At first I thought he was just getting over it quickly but when I returned to dabbing his wound, he barely noticed it.

I found this strange, considering his previous reaction, so I looked up at his face, in the hope of reading his eyes. However, they were transfixed on my chest, my abs and probably just about everywhere in between. I swallowed as everything suddenly began to come together in my head and became all too familiar.

When I was satisfied all of the kid's worst scrapes were cleaned up sufficiently, I stood and shook those unhappy memories from my mind. I placed everything back into the bathroom cabinet and pulled a fresh towel from one of the shelves above the bath. I handed it to the boy and backed out of the room, "You take a bath and clean yourself up, okay? There's a fresh toothbrush in that cupboard beneath the sink, and feel free to use whatever soap or shampoo you need. I'm gonna lay out some clean clothes for you on the bed out here. If you need anything at all, I'll just be out in the sitting room." In response the kid gave a small nod of his head.

I left the bathroom, taking my damp shirt with me, balled up in my clenched fist. >From the closet in guestroom, where Jesse kept a load of his clothes, I pulled the smallest pair of track pants and a matching sweater. I then opened one of the drawers in the dressing table, and then another, and another, until I found my brother's underwear. It crossed my mind that I might be invading his privacy by looking through these drawers but it was my apartment, and there was no chance the small homeless teenager in the adjoining room would've fitted into any of my own clothes. I pulled out a pair of boxer briefs and some socks, placing them neatly on the bed with the pants and sweater.

After closing the closet and all of the drawers I left the room. As I shut the door behind me I heard the water begin to run.

I noticed there was still a light on in the kitchen, but before confronting Lance, I went into my own bedroom and pulled on a dry t-shirt.

I skulked across the lounge then, finding Lance standing beside the coffee machine in the kitchen. I sat down at the table, but didn't say anything. The coffee maker gurgled and spat out its rich black liquid into the pot, drowning out the sound of the running water from the bathroom. Lance poured two mugs of black coffee and placed them onto the table. He dropped a teaspoon of sugar into his and then sat with me.

"He's taking a bath." I stated stoically. Lance sighed heavily.

"I'm not happy with this Alex," He said.

"Why?" I asked, my voice flat and cold.

"I don't think you've thought this through. It's too dangerous. Think of all the things that could go wrong Alex..."

"And you're saying they outweigh the things that could go right? That us taking in a homeless kid..."

"Not us, Alex, you." He interjected.

"I can't believe you would just leave him out on the street." I shook my head, my anger rising.

"I wouldn't. I'd take him to the hospital, where they could fix him up properly and contact a foster agency." He remained calm.

"I can't dump him." I bit at the inside of lip, trying to contain my emotions. "He needs help, and I can do that..."

"No. No you can't." Lance argued, his voice rising, "Maybe you could have, a while ago when you were practicing, a pro-bono case or whatever, but not now. Now you're a manger of boy band..."

"Is that what this is about? That this might damage your reputation or something?" I spat, "That's so narrow minded Lance..."

"What if he cries rape? Huh Alex? Have you thought about that?" He questioned, shouting at me. "He's recognized me, and I know you saw that too. Or perhaps he's twigged that we're together... You need to get rid of him, get him out, give him some cash... hell, I'll give him some cash..."

"No Lance, no." I stood, smashing my coffee down onto the table top, "You don't mean that, you're still drunk..."

"Obviously not as drunk as you," he sniggered, "What makes this so important Al? Like you said earlier, there are hundreds of kids on the streets in this city, you can't take them all in... why this one?"

"'Cos this one's gay!" I snapped, "He's gay and he's been kicked out by his parents because of it. I can't let those people win, I won't."

"How'd you know that? He hasn't said a word! You don't even know his name!" Lance shouted back.

"I know because... because..." I faltered and felt myself fall apart all over again, "I know because it happened to me." I cried as I collapsed back into my chair.

Lance was stunned into silence. His still full cup clattered to the table in the same way mine had done, splashing onto the glass top. "Shit" He muttered, blinking in confusion. I started to sob, unable to hold everything in any longer.

My boyfriend quickly crossed to my side of the table and hugged me tightly, comforting me with soothing noises. The high emotion of the night was forgotten as I calmed in his arms.

I sniffed and wiped away the tears with the back of my hand; Lance got me a glass of water from the tap and pulled his chair around so that he was next to me. I sipped from the glass he handed me and set it down on the table. Lance grasped my hand firmly, caringly, and spoke gently, "I always thought your family was supportive of you. Your Mom and your brother they're so..."

"You've never met my father." I hissed.

"Oh. So he kicked you out?" He asked cautiously.

"I made the mistake of coming out to him first. We never got on brilliantly but I thought he would understand... I thought... I thought..." I choked on my tears.

"Shhh... It's okay Alex." Lance held me closely now, wrapping his arm around my shoulder protectively. "So what happened?"

"I was visiting him for the summer," I began, "I was sixteen and thought it was the right time to tell someone. I had been living over here for three years by then and I had lost contact with all of my friends over there. So I told my Dad. He totally freaked out and he asked me to leave, and said to never come back.

"All I had was the clothes on my back and the wallet in my pocket. Thank God, I kept my return ticket in it. So I took the train to London and tried to get an earlier flight. The first one was in like three days, so I took it and lived on the streets until I could fly back here. All I had was a five pound note, that's not even ten dollars Lance." I shook my head at the memory and paused; my boyfriend looked me in the eyes and gave me a half smile.

"That was when your parents got divorced, right?"

"Yeah, and when I really started looking out for Jesse, I never wanted anything like that to happen to him. It was hell Lance." I said somberly. After pausing to think Lance asked, beaming, "You know what Alex? We're gonna do whatever we can to help this kid out, okay?"

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, hugging him tightly. Over Lance's shoulder I saw the lone silhouette of the kid I, no we, had taken in. I didn't know how long he had been standing at the door, probably too long, but it didn't matter at that moment.

I eased out of Lance's warm embrace, to his dismay, but he didn't put up a fight when he realized my reasoning. "Go." He said compassionately, "Go talk to him."

I nodded and smiled as best I could at the time, and after a second's contemplation, I gave him a soft peck on the lips. Lance didn't protest, he knew our guest had already seen and heard too much but that there was nothing we could now do about it.

I left the bright light of the kitchen and stepped into the dark living room, where I could focus on the kid. The change in his appearance was remarkable to say the least, granted he still looked battered and tired, but he was no longer dirty and greasy. His face was free from dried blood and his light brown hair, still a little damp, hung in bangs over his forehead. The clothes I had picked out for him fitted pretty well, considering how bulky Jesse was compared to him.

I grinned as I approached him, his reaction was to smile at me but then turn away bashfully. He blushed slightly. I walked past him back towards the guest room, careful not to make physical contact with him. I stopped in the doorway, "I know it's hard to talk about it, so I'm not gonna push, but if you do want to tell me something, anything, then I'll be here," I said, before moving into the bedroom and sitting on the edge of the double bed.

The boy took the hint and sat down next to me, a little closer than I would've liked. After sitting in silence for some time, in the hope that he would open up to me, he still hadn't said a word, and I was on the verge of giving up for the night.

"Are you hungry, do you want something to eat?" I asked, he shook his head, declining with the slightest of movements. "Uh... well maybe you would..."

"It's Daniel," he said slowly, in nothing more than a whisper, looking at a space on the floor between his feet. I was taken back at the sound of his voice at first, and inside I was jumping for joy at the thought that I might actually be getting through to him.

"I'm Alex," I said, my voice mirroring his, "Are you sure you aren't hungry?"

"No." He said softly, "Actually... actually I'm kinda tired."

"Sure." I smiled, "Try to get some sleep then... oh, and the bathroom's shared, so be sure to lock both doors." I know it didn't really seem appropriate but the last thing I wanted was for the kid to be caught with his pants down.

"Uh..." He started nervously, now looking through the open doorway and into the lounge, "Is that... I mean is he..."

"Yeah, that's him alright," I grinned, "But he doesn't like people making a big deal of it, okay?"

"Oh... yeah... I understand." He nodded softly; looking at the side of his face I caught the beginnings of a small smile, a sliver of white teeth revealed.

"Um... Okay, so I'll see you in the morning." I said as I stood.

"Goodnight Alex." The teenager said quietly.

"Goodnight Daniel." I replied, gently closing the door to the room, plunging the lounge into darkness.

I felt a warm pair of arms wrap around my stomach from behind, "You're amazing, you know that." Lance said lovingly, his forehead resting on my shoulder and his entire body pressing against me.

"Me?"

"Yeah Alex. You." Lance said, his voice cracking, as I felt his warm tears soak through my t-shirt.

End of Chapter 15

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