Chapter 15 Justin was alone– again— in his room, when JC came over.  Lynn begged him to do something, believing that Justin would listen to him.  JC smiled bitterly as he took the stairs two at a time, wanting this to be over as quickly as possible.  Maybe a month ago Justin would have confided in his friend, let him offer comfort, listen to his advice but that was then, JC thought.  His own angry words replayed constantly in his head and he wanted to pull them back.  Hell, he had wanted them back as soon as he saw the hurt on their faces. He sighed and opened the door, gasping at how thin Justin was, not anorexic, not yet, but getting there.  "Hey," he called softly and was pleased to see that Justin still had the energy to look pissed. "What the hell are you doing here?  Haven't you wrecked my life enough?" "Your mom called.  She thought I could help." "Well, you can't.  So get out." Justin closed his eyes and turned his back.  Taking a deep breath, JC sat on the edge of the bed and wasn't surprised when Justin scooted to the other side. "Justin, I'm sorry.  I'm *so* sorry," JC said, his voice filling with emotion.  "If I could take it back I would.  I'd fight Johnny every step of the way.  I ...never....never...truly realized.....how much in love you two really are." "Were," Justin whispered, tears leaking out at the thought. "No, Jus, it's still `are'.  You're starving yourself to death and Lance is using alcohol." "Your point is...?" Justin asked. "My point is, do something.  Go after him.  Don't just lie here killing yourself." "I *went* after him.  I begged him not to leave me.  Do you see him here?" "Do it again," JC replied simply. "How big a fool do you think I am?  I don't think I could take that whole scene a second time," he said, the tears evident in his voice. "Justin, you are so wrong.  You can take it and if the answer is the same again, then it's time— time to cut your losses and stop this shit," JC said, waving around the room, biting his lip and hoping that Justin would respond as he always had to the stern fatherly tone. Justin was silent.  JC knew that meant it could go either way.  He left without another word, praying that he had planted a seed. Lynn looked up the stairs at him, hope blossoming, until she saw the frown on his face.  "JC?" "I don't know, Lynn, I told him to go after Lance, once and for all. I don't know if he'll listen." She sighed, "Thanks for trying." Once he was gone, she stared up the stairs and then turned her back. Justin would have to decide. Hours later, she heard a slow shuffling as Justin came into the kitchen.  She waited, holding her breath.  "Mom, can I have some soup?" "Sure, baby, sit while I fix it," she replied in as calm a voice as she could summon.  She busied herself, catching sight of him out of the corner of her eye.  He was slumped in his seat, staring at the table and drawing lazy circles with his fingernails. "Mom?" "Uh-huh, Jus." "JC says I should try to talk to Lance, to settle things once and for all." "And?" "I'm scared," he said, the childlike tone begging for her comfort. She sat and took his hands in hers, holding tight, urging him to continue.  "It hurt so bad when he left me...What if....?" "Life is what if, Jus.  You're strong.  If it doesn't work out, how much worse off will you be?" His eyes widened as if this was a totally new concept.  He chewed his lip, considering this idea. "Maybe tomorrow." He ate the soup and a little toast before he retreated upstairs once again.  Lynn offered up a quick prayer of thanks and a request that her child not be hurt anymore. That night, Jim Bass was surprised to hear Justin's voice on the phone.  He hadn't spoken to him since the day that he had left the hospital with Lance.  "Hello, Justin," he began, "how are you?" "Not good, Jim.  I ...um... I....was going to try to see him tomorrow." He stopped, the silence at the other end ominous.  "Jim?" "Why are you telling me?" he asked, a little confused. "I know he's drinking a lot and I wanted to know when would be best to go." Jim breathed a sigh of relief, glad that Justin wasn't asking him to be the go-between.  Things had been strained between Lance and him because of the alcohol and he wasn't sure he would be much help for Justin's cause.  This question was simple.  "Go right around noon. Much later and he's already beyond hearing.  Much earlier and he'll bite your head off." "Thanks, Jim.  How did things get to this point?" Justin asked sadly. "Good luck, Justin, you know his mother and I both love you," he said, ignoring the rhetorical question that was unanswerable. "Thanks again.  I'll let you know." Justin had a long night.  He developed one scenario in his head after the other— all of them with miserable endings.  He was afraid to let himself hope that things could work out.  He dozed off sometime after 3AM and dreamt of the happiness that his conscious mind wouldn't let him consider. At 11AM, he came down, vibrating with nerves, forcing down a small bowl of cereal for the first time in a month.  Lynn stood behind him and he leaned back into her, drawing strength from hers.  "Can you drop me off?  I'll get a taxi home." "Sure, baby," she replied, dropping a quick kiss on his curls.  He stood and faced her. "Do I look okay?" Her heart broke.  He was so unsure, so uncertain. "You look great, handsome as always, a little too thin," she answered with a smile. "Let's go then, before I lose my nerve," he said in a tiny voice that let her know how terrified he was.  The twenty minute ride was silent, not even the radio to break the tension.  When she pulled up in front of Lance's gate, Justin got out, his key warm in his hand. She could feel his trembling as she kissed him and wished him luck. He smiled, a little one, the first in a long time and she hoped it was a sign of good things to come.  She watched until he disappeared into the house. It was dark and felt empty.  Justin moved quietly through the downstairs, seeing the shambles the once immaculate home had become. There were empty pizza boxes strewn all over the den, dried crusts and half-eaten pies abandoned wherever he had been sitting.  The kitchen was worse.  All the dishes were in the sink and it was apparent that when he ran out, he simply stopped using them.  Every other room bore the marks of Lance's neglect.  The one constant was half full bottles of Jack everywhere as if they had been opened and forgotten or made available for immediate access.  An almost empty case was right inside the back door. Justin sighed.  Maybe this was hopeless.  Then he heard the shower running and took it as an omen.  He waited until the water stopped and he figured Lance wouldn't be naked, before climbing the stairs to the bedroom he knew so well.  He pushed open the door as Lance was pulling on his jeans.  Lance—shower and dress so you can sit around drinking.  The thought brought a smile to Justin's face that died when Lance turned around and caught sight of him.  The blond scowled, "What the hell are you doing here?" Justin almost ran from the room before remembering JC's words.  "I came to talk to you.  Your dad said this would be the best time." He was trying to maintain a calm expression that belied the turmoil beneath.  "So, can we talk?" Lance tried to keep the angry frown in place, to push Justin away for good, but his love for the boy standing in front of him made that impossible.  His face softened, "I guess.  Not here though.  Let's go downstairs." Justin, looking for signs in every detail, took that as a bad one. He shrugged, "Whatever." When Justin asked him not to drink until they were finished, Lance frowned but complied, throwing himself on the sofa as far away from Justin as possible.  He could see the hurt look on Justin's face and knew it wouldn't be hard to push him away again— he was too fragile to take much more pain.  Without even speaking, his lips were trembling and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.  Lance closed his eyes and shut him out until he could regroup, steeling himself to plunge the knife in once again. Justin took a deep breath and began slowly, watching as Lance's eyes opened slightly, "I need you to say it.  Tell me why you left me." Lance didn't answer, just stared at him, unnerving Justin even further.  The younger man blurted out, "Did I not try to fight him off hard enough?  Am I damaged goods?  Was it something else?" When Lance remained silent, Justin cried, "I am nothing without you. I can't go on like this— without you.  Please, Lance, whatever I have to do, I'll do.  Just please forgive me.  Let me make it up to you. Please...." He sobbed into his hands, unable to look at Lance anymore. Lance wanted to finish it with Justin, send him away to a place far from him, where he could heal, get his life back together.  But he couldn't.  This was the person he loved most in the world and he had hurt him as badly as those monsters had.  Now, looking at him, suffering still, begging for forgiveness, blaming himself unfairly, Lance crumpled, tears streaming down his face, powerless to keep up the pretense any longer. "It was never you, baby.  It was me.  I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness," Lance said, his voice cracking. Justin looked up, the sobbing slowing, "I don't get it.  Why?" Lance stood and paced the room. "I let *you* down, Justin.  I didn't protect you, I failed you.  What happened in that town was *my* fault.  JC was right— we should never have stopped there.  And you paid the most.  And then, with Johnny, I thought my leaving was for the best and I knew you wouldn't argue if you thought it was your fault so I let you think it was about you.  I did it because I thought you would be better off without me." Justin, standing now, turned to face Lance, "How could I be better off without you?  I have never stopped wanting you and this last month has been hell.  Every minute of every day, I missed you. Every day I thought of how I could make things right." "I am so sorry, Jus.  Can *you* forgive me?  I did it because I thought it was the last thing I could do to protect you— from the world, from the press, from the gossip.  I wish I had ...." "It's done, it's over.  I want us together," Justin whispered. "What about the group?" Lance asked. "What about it?  This last month, I realized what was important—you and me.  If the group dies, it dies.  I am not going to hide any more feeling dirty and shameful.  Remember the night when we agreed to be committed to one another?  I still want that, I want it to be public and if it's not our voices, our songs, that draw the fans, if they can't accept us, then what the hell— we're rich men, we'll buy an island and live there.  I'll live anywhere as long as you're with me.  I'll do anything as long as you're with me." Lance was stunned, not only by the forgiveness that Justin was offering so freely, but also by the sacrifice he was willing to make because he loved Lance.  Justin shifted uneasily, unable to read the meaning behind Lance's silence.  "Well?" he asked, pleading for an answer. "Yes, oh God, yes.  Yes, yes, yes.  Always." They stood facing one another, both afraid to take the final step. Lance was frozen, unable to make the next move.  Justin closed the distance between them and took Lance in his arms, whispering, "Let's go upstairs." Lance pulled back and searched the eyes that he loved so well, looking for the lie, and there was none— only the love that Justin had always promised.  He nodded numbly and let Justin lead him up the stairs. Once in the familiar room, they faced one another.  So much had happened in the last month.  Then Justin reached out and unbuttoned Lance's shirt and slipped it off, caressing the skin beneath, running his hands lovingly over Lance's chest.  When he fumbled with the button on Lance's jeans, Lance covered his hand, "Wait, baby." His fingers slipped under Justin's shirt and pulled it off, drawing Justin to him until their bare skin touched and electrified them. Lance ran his fingers over Justin's back and gasped when he felt the scars of the lash.  He traced them, tears falling for what they had suffered.  "It's all right, Lance, it's all right," Justin soothed. They separated, unable to prolong their need much longer and were naked in seconds.  They embraced once again, the hard erections rubbing, sending insistent messages, and moved as one to the bed. Lying side by side, they took a moment to look at one another, in wonder, that they were finally here again.  Justin broke the silence, "I love you so much, Lance." He moved to Lance's mouth, his tongue entering quickly, cutting off Lance's response, wanting to taste the oh so familiar, the comfort of Lance. Lance sighed, unable to believe this was happening, responding with wild desire to the sweetness that was Justin.  Justin moved slowly down the well-loved body, reacquainting himself with the soft skin, planting loving kisses and gentle tongue as he made his way to Lance's erection. Lance gasped when Justin swirled his tongue over the tip, so light it felt imagined.  But the electric thrill was not imagined and it was followed by another and then another, Lance moaning and reaching for Justin, needing to touch him.  Finding the springy soft curls that he had missed, he twined his fingers through them, pulling gently when Justin took his length into the warm, darkness and started sucking with a rhythm that Lance met with his hips.  "Oh, Jus, I want to love you forever." He was getting too close.  He pulled on Justin's curls, "Please, Jus, wait..." and drew the younger boy up until they were side by side again.  He looked into the blue, the ocean that he had seen in his memory every day that they had been apart, glazed now with desire. Lance rolled Justin onto his back and straddled him, retrieving the lube in a smooth motion.  Justin's eyes were locked on his, want and love and trust all flitting through like clouds in a summer sky.  The shame was there as well, a remnant that Lance wanted to take away. He leaned down into the sweet kiss that meant acceptance and was met by Justin's, signifying forgiveness.  It was his turn to drop butterfly kisses on Justin, stopping to erase horrible memories, making new ones that were loving and good.  Tears fell soundlessly from Justin's eyes and Lance whispered, "You are the greatest gift I have ever been given." Justin's eyes, shimmering with the tears, opened and searched Lance's face and saw it was the truth.  He sighed and closed his eyes again, giving himself over to the pleasure as Lance slicked himself and his fingers, entering Justin with one, then two, finally three, allowing Justin to adjust, to get ready for Lance. When Lance felt the muscle relax, he positioned himself and asked, "Ready, baby?" Justin nodded, but his eyes showed the fear, and he bit his lip as his brain involuntarily  replayed the horror of a month ago.  "We don't have to, Justin," Lance said, "We have forever." "I want to, Lance, I want to feel *you*, not him.  I want to make new memories.  I want to remember that it can be wonderful and sweet and gentle, not..." Lance put his fingers on Justin's mouth and traced his lips. "It's ok, Justin.  Are you sure you're ready?" Justin nodded. It was like the first time as Lance entered slowly, stopping whenever Justin gasped, waiting for him to adjust.  When his whole length was in, he stilled, looking down at his beautiful lover, so grateful for his loving spirit.  Justin smiled and the world lit up for Lance, as it always had.  "I'm ok, Lance.  Please love me." Lance began to thrust slowly at first, until Justin gasped in pleasure.  He speeded up his movement, stroking Justin's erection at the same time, until they both burst at the same time, the orgasm washing over both of them like a tidal wave.  Spent, they drew apart and wiped themselves on the sheets before cuddling.  Two bodies nearly one. This time there was no one to hurt them, just soulmates, reunited in one another's arms and it felt like coming home, the familiar feeling of love and belonging.  Two halves were whole once again, facing life together. The End menu