Disclaimer: You've read them all before so I don't think I need to reiterate it all here. If you don't like homosexual relationships, then get out of here and find some nice girl/boy romance. This isn't the place for you. Most likely if you've found yourself here though, you're down with the slash fiction and ready for a new story. This may start off a little slow. Sex will be in the story but it's gotta get to that point first so just be patient with me. I don't mean to be offensive to anyone including the members of `NSYNC or anyone else that I might mention in this story. Feedback is greatly appreciated!
Whatever It Takes - Chapter 1
By, Teresa
The darkened hotel room was quiet; the only noise coming from the rhythmic humming of the air conditioner. Lance slept peacefully, reveling in the silent refuge that sleep provided him from his hectic day-to-day life. Without warning, the silence was shattered as the door to the room banged open and light flooded in from the hallway. Lance was startled awake, but kept his back to the open door, not wanting anyone to know that he had been disturbed.
The sound of giggles and low whispering cut through the air, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone trying so hard to be quiet, that they became infinitely louder in the process.
"Shhh, we have to be quiet," a voice slurred. "My friend is sleeping over there."
The rustling and poor attempts to be quiet continued until he heard a loud thump. Lance shifted slightly in his bed, straining to hear what his eyes could not see. "Ow! Where did that table come from?" the voice said. "It jumped out at me from nowhere!"
He heard the sound of a girl giggling. "Oh Justin, you're so funny!" she cooed.
Lance rolled his eyes and slowly turned his head over on the pillow so that he could face in the other direction. He didn't want to be noticed, but he needed to see what was going on in his room. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Justin smile at the girl before grabbing her by her waist and pulling her in for a ferocious kiss, seemingly controlled by his drunken lustful haze. There was no passion, no care, and no emotion in the kiss. It was a purely sexual act. He pulled back from the kiss and removed his shirt before unbuttoning his pants. He then lay down on the bed, pulling the girl down on top of him.
As she started to lick and kiss down Justin's body, Lance closed his eyes in disgust. For yet another night out of a countless many, Justin had gone out clubbing with Joey after their concert, and gotten completely drunk before returning to the hotel with some random girl that he had picked up an hour or so before the club closed. `How can he keep doing this?' Lance thought. He would never see these girls again. He would never even have a chance to get to know them. Hell, he'd be lucky if he even remembered that they existed. Justin was usually so drunk and numb when these encounters occurred, that his memory was more than a little hazy the following morning.
He turned his head back toward the wall and pulled the sheets up around his ears, trying to block out his surroundings. He grabbed the extra pillow next to him and mashed it down over his head. He didn't want to hear this again. He couldn't hear it again. He could feel the unwanted tears welling up in his eyes and, trembling slightly as he tried to fight them back, he drifted off to sleep amidst Justin's moans.
As morning dawned, light flooded into the room slowly bringing Lance into wakefulness. He opened his eyes and lifted his head, knocking the pillow off of it in the process. He looked down at it and frowned, remembering the events of the night before. He cursed himself for letting it bother him so much, and closed his eyes for a second, telling himself to get his emotions in check before he started yet another day. He glanced over at the bed next to him and saw Justin sprawled out over it, his curls a tangled mess, and the bedding haphazardly tangled around his legs. He was alone, as he always was when Lance awoke in the morning. No matter how many times he brought a girl back with him from a club, they were never there the next morning. It was as if Justin didn't want the reminder there when he woke up - sober and conscious of his actions.
Lance threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat there for a moment just staring at Justin and taking in the contours of his face. He studied the way his cheeks ran into his jaw line, and his cute but unusual nose, thinking of how they gave him such an adorable and innocent quality. It was hard to imagine that such an angelic baby face was capable of such self-destructive behavior - something that was becoming a habit. He shook his head, breaking away from his thoughts, and went into the bathroom for his shower. He figured he'd let Justin sleep a little longer. There was no sense in getting him up until it was absolutely necessary. Besides, Lance knew that he needed his sleep.
Twenty minutes later Lance was showered and dressed, and he emerged from the bathroom silently, so as not to wake Justin. He looked over at Justin's bed, expecting to see the sleeping boy, but was surprised to see that it was empty. Startled, he looked over and saw Justin standing next to the coffee pot, looking like he'd just been dragged out of a crowd of screaming teenage girls. He watched as Justin tossed back four aspirin and gulped down a cup of coffee before refilling his cup.
"Rough night again, huh?" Lance said.
Justin winced at the sound of Lance's voice, but didn't answer. His hangover was killing his head and he could barely stand to open his eyes. Lance noticed that the room was darker than it had been when he went to take a shower, and realized that the shades had been drawn to block out the light.
"I'll take your non-answer as a yes then," Lance said sarcastically.
He began to dig through his bag, looking for his requisite hair gel, and as he pulled out bottles of cologne and deodorant and such, he placed them on the dresser in front of him.
"God damn it, can you please keep it down?" Justin snapped.
Lance froze mid-move and looked up at him. "Um, did I do something to bother you?" he asked, a little hurt and extremely confused.
"It's just like `Boom, Boom, Boom.' Every little thing that you put on that dresser is like a fucking hammer pounding up against the side of my head. It would be nice if you'd have just a little consideration and keep it down," Justin said with a touch of annoyance in his voice.
Lance just sat there and stared at him. 'How dare he,' he thought. How could Justin sit there and treat him like the bad guy, when his condition was of his own doing? Lance looked down at the ground and took a deep breath.
He looked up, his eyes wide with incredulity. "You can't be serious. I mean . you seriously cannot be - wow." He studied Justin's indifferent expression and look of complete boredom and he knew that he had finally reached his breaking point. He couldn't keep it inside any longer. It was time to deal with this. He was suddenly able to find the words that he had been searching for.
His voice shook with anger as he spoke. "Look Justin, I understand that you're hungover and tired or whatever, but that's NOT my fault. It's yours. I have been nothing but considerate and tolerant of your recent late-night habits, and I'm getting sick of it. You're drinking way too much, coming back to the hotel barely able to stand on your own two feet every night, and yet, you don't see a problem with it."
"Not only do you come stumbling in at 4am, but you drag along some whore that you just plucked off the dance floor in your drunken haze. Don't you get a little sick of never seeing the same girl twice? Tell me Justin, do you even remember the name of the girl who was in here last night?"
Justin looked a little shell-shocked and he stammered as he spoke. "I.I..what does it matter?"
"No Justin. Tell me right now. Do you remember her name? The answer is simple. Just tell me yes' or no.'" Lance demanded.
Justin averted his gaze to the floor and replied in a barely audible voice, "No. I don't remember her name, okay?"
Lance snickered and a complete look of disgust crossed his face." Yeah, that's what I thought. What kind of life is that, Justin? A random series of nameless hook-ups, who provide you with a few moments of sexual satisfaction and then disappear from your bed before the sun rises an hour later. Does that REALLY make you happy? Are you satisfied with your life? Because I don't think you are, and I think you're destroying yourself in the process. I'm not going to put up with this anymore. I can't just sit here and watch you destroy your life and pretend like everything is okay."
As he continued with his tirade, his anger intensified and his voice grew louder with every minute that passed by. "Dammit Justin, I've always admired you so much. There's nothing you can't do and you seem to have it all. Do you know how many people would kill to be like you, to have what you have? God, sometimes your talent and your ability to tackle everything we do with ease just blows me away. But here you are, working towards taking all of that away with your reckless behavior." He stopped speaking. He felt like he was ramming his head into a brick wall, and he was exhausted, as though every ounce of his energy had been forced out of his body, desperate to make an impression on Justin, to get through to him and just make him okay again.
Justin just stood there and stared at Lance with a vacant expression. He was at a loss for words at the moment, completely taken aback by Lance's outburst. He just didn't know what to say. One of the reasons that he had always roomed with Lance was that he had thought that Lance was okay with his lifestyle or at least didn't care what he did. He never would have thought that Lance would be so upset about it, and as much as he hated to admit it, it really bothered him. Seeing Lance so angry, he felt a wave of guilt and shame rush through him. It just wasn't like Lance to explode like this, and the fact that he did made Justin think.
Lance himself was frozen in shock, and he stood there and waited for Justin's response. He couldn't believe that he had just yelled at Justin like that. It was so unlike him, yet it had happened, and he was surprised that he didn't regret it at all. As the seconds ticked by and Justin still remained quiet, he was filled with a mixture of fear and relief. He was scared of how Justin was going to react, taking his silence for anger. However, at the same time, he was overcome with relief at finally saying all of the things that he had wanted to say for so long. He hoped against hope that Justin wouldn't take it the wrong way, and that he might reach out to Lance - or anyone for that matter - just so he might finally talk to someone and get to the root of his erratic behavior.
However, Lance's hopes were shot down, when Justin finally snapped back to attention and turned an angry and defiant gaze upon Lance. "Who the hell do you think you are?" he said, his voice low with anger. "I thought that you were my friend, not my surrogate mother. I'm nineteen years old. I don't need a babysitter telling me what I can or cannot do, or who I can or cannot see. It's my life, and I'll live it how I want to, and you can just keep your opinions to yourself, because I don't want to hear them. You think I'm so perfect and that I have it so easy? Well, maybe things aren't always what they seem. What about that? Maybe I'm just as fucked up as everybody else and I'm sick of being perfect little Justin all the time. Whatever it may be, it's definitely none of your business. If I wanted to know your opinion on MY life, and on MY feelings, I'd ask you, but I sure as hell don't think that you're a fair judge of what's going on in my mind. How do you know that I'm not happy? How do you know that I'm not having the greatest time of my life? I'm living large, I'm not tied down, and I'm the life of the party every night. You're just jealous because I'm living my life to the extreme and you're too scared to live yours."
Lance's tough fa‡ade had crumbled beneath Justin's angry glare. "That's not it Justin," he said quietly. "It's not that I don't want you to have fun, or that I wish I was doing what you're doing. No, I don't have a magnetic personality like you do, and I don't just ooze charm out my pores, but I like my life. At least I know that I'll be able to look back on this period of time without regret. I care about you and I don't want you to be unhappy with your life. I just want you to take care of yourself, that's it. I don't want to control you or tell you that you can't go out. I guess I just want you to be careful."
Justin didn't know what to say to Lance's words. In his heart, he knew that Lance was being honest, and he appreciated it. But he wasn't going to back down now. He couldn't let Lance in on the pain in his heart, because he didn't let anyone in anymore. It didn't matter who they were. He kept up his angry face and the tone of his voice was laced with steel, "Well thanks for the concern dad, but I can take care of myself without your input. Do I show up for work every day? Yes. Can I still sing? Yes. As long as I keep getting my job done, and it doesn't affect the rest of you, I'd appreciate it if you would just stay out of my life. I mean seriously Lance, what does this matter to you? Why do you care so much?"
Lance turned his gaze to the floor, not knowing how to respond. He knew that there was more to Justin's problems. He knew that there was something going on inside his head that was really bothering him, and all he wanted was for Justin to open up to him and tell him what was wrong so he could try to help. But at the same time, he knew he was being a hypocrite. He was no better. In truth, he wasn't being completely honest with Justin, or himself. He couldn't help but question his own motivation in becoming so angry and concerned. Sure, he cared about Justin as a friend and didn't want to see him hurt, but he knew there was more to it, and he just stood there staring at the floor, willing those feelings away.
The tense silence was broken as Justin finally spoke up again. "So I guess you have nothing more to say to me, huh? Well good, because that's the way I'd like it to be from now on. As far as things go within the group, we can speak whenever necessary for business purposes. Other than that, I don't need you to be a part of my life anymore." His eyes blazed with a false anger. He was falling apart inside. Justin didn't really mean what he was saying. The words were flying out of his mouth faster than he could think of them, and he knew they were hurtful. He knew that Lance wouldn't take them well. But he had said them anyway, and now he couldn't take them back. He just wanted to reach out and hug Lance and cry and cry.but no, he couldn't. Instead, he announced his departure. "I'm going to stay with Joey from now on. Have a nice life."
With that, he stomped around the room in silence, exaggerating every motion as he tossed his things into his bags and stormed out of the room, slamming the door with great enthusiasm, trying to complete the scene with the proper touch of drama.
Lance followed him sadly to the door. As it slammed in his face, he reached his hand up, and placed it on the door. He willed Justin to come back. He didn't care how things were. If it meant that he had to put up with the late nights and the random girls, then fine. If it meant that they were going to fight some more, fine. He just wanted him to be there. For things to go back to how they were. Even though he was glad that he had finally spoken up, he realized that he didn't feel any better. The overwhelming feelings of frustration and annoyance had been taken over by a gnawing sadness. Justin didn't even want to be around him anymore. He was obviously no better off than he had been 24 hours earlier. All he could think was that he wished he could rewind to the moment he got out of bed and start the day over again.
He turned around, utterly defeated, and walked back into the room. He flopped down on Justin's bed and snuggled into the covers, breathing in Justin's scent. He wanted to cry, but for some reason, he couldn't. He almost felt like he was in shock. One moment, Justin was there, and the next moment he was gone, proclaiming his desire to be nothing more than `business partners.'
He began to think back to the fight, and the things that Justin had said. "Why does it matter Justin? You wanna know why I care?" he spat out angrily to the empty room. "Because I love you Justin," he whispered. With his final honest admission to himself and to the empty room, he rolled over and snuggled into the pillows, wondering how he was ever going to undo the damage of that morning.
Well, that's it for now! I know it got off to a slow start, but I promise, there is romance in the future. This chapter was just here to lay the foundation. I'll try to have Chapter 2 out pretty soon. You can e-mail me at teresa_8998@hotmail.com. Thanks!