TWISTED SIX Hope cascaded through Lance’s eyes as JC bounced onto the bus. His expression remained steady, hoping not to piss Joey off in anyway. No more than he already was when he caught JC’s eye. “Why you riding with us?” he asked, unzipping his pants. JC chewed on his lip, faced with confrontation he wasn’t sure he wanted. But the glimmer in Lance was all he needed to know he was doing the right thing. “Song,” he blurted. Lance’s eyebrow cocked as he studied the scrambling nature of his friend, and his heart tugged with appreciation over what he was doing. Essentially putting himself in harms way. Joey was a cannon, ready to go off at any moment. “A song?” Joey repeated slowly, casting an angry gaze toward Lance.  “What the fuck kinda song is *that* important Lance has to hear it tonight?” Lance shrugged and cast his eyes toward the floor. His lips wanted to twitch with amusement, but he was still sore, and still chilled about Joey’s ominous vow. So he rubbed his stomach and sighed. “It’s a new one,” he said softly, wondering if Justin had done this. Perhaps JC was only on the bus out of some sort of fucked up call of duty. “A new one,” JC replied with a smile. “Lemme hear,” Joey challenged, and Lance saw the fury beginning to rage behind his brown eyes. He was calling bluffs, and daring for JC to lie. JC shivered, and Lance could tell he hadn’t planned. A sinking feeling pressed heavily on Lance’s chest and he wobbled a bit as the bus rumbled onward. “Hear?” JC asked, patting his stage pants. “Hear. Shit! It’s on the other bus.” He slapped his palm to his head, feigning forgetfulness. Joey moved forward quickly, flicking JC in the head. “No fucking shit, Sherlock! You rush from arena to bus, you ain’t gonna have a CD!” He laughed, jovially, and Lance sank back on his heels a bit. Because Joey was master of playing the good guy when there was an audience. Lance figured he was safe for now, for the ride to the hotel. Until Joey had him alone. His mind blocked further thoughts from approaching, and he rubbed his ass absently. “Maybe when we get to the room, C? You can get it from the other bus and ..” “Lance,” Joey warned, backing up a few steps. “We have that thing, remember?” “What thing?” JC pressed, and Lance shook his head, begging JC to back off. To just remain silent. The last thing he could handle was someone else being dragged into the world of darkness. “A thing Lance and I need to do,” Joey explained vaguely, waving his hand in dismissal. “But right now I need to get my stanky ass outta these clothes. So, behave boys. I’ll be back.” He shoved past Lance, roughly, and when he passed, took the opportunity to pinch his backside with venomous intent. Lance winced as Joey’s fingers pressed sensitive flesh, and he looked away from JC with shame. Shame because he didn’t want JC to know the horrid details. He didn’t want anyone to know ... Ever. The hotel ride was simply idle time for Lance to ponder what Joey was planning, what horrors he would reek upon him. “Got the keys?” Joey called out as they wandered into the lobby. Chris nodded and took them from the road manager, tossing the cards to Joey. Lance saw Justin standing behind Chris, his cheek bright red and misery washed all over him. Lance cringed when Justin refused to look at him, and his insides toppled as he watched Justin limp away behind Chris to the elevators. “Jesus,” JC whispered. “Jesus Christ! He’s hurt.” Lance nodded, and his eyes fluttered closed. His heart hurt so badly. It wanted to burst apart at the seams, and he snorted bitterly knowing Joey would only be concerned with the loss of a toy. “Will you watch him tonight?” Lance asked gently, forcing his eyes to the ground. “I’m not sure what ... I mean, I’m going to be with Joey and ...” He couldn’t speak anymore. Desolate and hopeless were the name of the game, and he scraped the toe of his shoe across the tiled floor. “Just, if you can okay?” JC rubbed his arm and said he would. Then Joey called, and he jumped. “Thanks, C,” Lance said, the lump in his throat blocking much else from squeaking out. He followed Joey in the same subservient manner Justin had trailed Chris, and he stared down at Joey’s sneakers and wondered if it would ever end. If there was no way to possibly get out of it all. To garner enough strength to fight for once. To scream and kick and tell Joey where he could go. To fucking hell. “Hey!” JC yelled suddenly, and Lance missed the pause in Joey’s step, crashing into his back. “What?” Joey asked. Lance felt the irritation radiating off him, the pure resentment that JC was interfering once more. “The song!” Lance wanted to drop his bag to the floor and hug JC. Encompass him in a totally un-manly hug and sob on his shoulder. Chant thank you a million times. Joey glared venomously and held the elevator doors open with his hand. “Tomorrow, C. The morning. You can play it for *us* in the morning.” With a nod, Joey demanded Lance get on with him. Which Lance did, his hope sinking into desperation. There was nothing he could do as the doors slid shut, and the last thing he saw was JC’s look of despair. So he forced a smile and refused to look sad. Toying with the cross around his neck, he glanced at Joey’s profile and winced when he noticed his lips set in a fine line. The warning look. The night was going to be long, drawn out, and painful. ************** “So,” Chris said as he pushed open the door to Justin’s suite. “I guess you’ll be hitting bed eh?” Justin swallowed thickly and tried not to touch Chris as he slid into the room in front of him. “I guess,” he said quietly. “You didn’t like getting fucked tonight Justin?” Chris asked, kicking the door shut with his foot. “It seems like you were a little ungrateful.” Justin dropped his bag to the floor and stood against the wall, resting the palms of his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. Struggling for reason in the entire sordid tale. “You fucked me with a huge vibrator,” he whispered. “It hurt.” “It was supposed to,” Chris laughed, running his hand over Justin's scalp. “Oh,” was all Justin could manage. Hurt. He was supposed to hurt, to ache all the time. Now it was drifting into a physical realm more along Lance’s lines of abuse. “Is Lance coming in soon?” he asked, and he knew what Chris had said about sleeping alone, but maybe JC had managed something. Maybe, just maybe, Lance would be let go. “Eh, no.” Chris kicked back on the sofa and patted the seat beside him. Justin’s eyes stung with exhaustion, tired from the show, from the day’s events. From seeing Lance’s pants literally grow a size smaller every week. From the pain of wanting to love Lance but not being able to. He thought briefly about the way Lance tried to teach him intimacy, and how Lance wanted to try and help. Be a hero. In that moment he thought maybe he did understand. Maybe he was in love with Lance. Maybe there was some good. But his heart reeled because he knew Joey was going to hurt some more, take more from Lance than anyone should have to give. His mind spun and he chewed on his nails, begging for help. A way to assist. The knock at the door made him jump, and Chris rubbed his temples. “What the fuck?” “Want me to get it?” Justin asked, and he hopped up a little too quickly. Chris yanked him down by the seat of his pants and pushed his face away roughly. “I want you to sit here and shut up for a minute alright? Can you just ... quiet? I have a headache!” Chris stood and headed for the door, and Justin winced, trying to adjust his body a little...maybe give the pain a break. He heard JC’s voice. And Chris’ voice. His stomach lurched because he realized Lance was alone now. With no one to help him. Blue eyes met his as JC strode into the room, and the look of anxiety did nothing to quell Justin’s fears. “Hey, J,” JC said warily. “Hey,” Justin replied, and his leg began to jiggle as his heart ripped away. Nausea flooded him and he pressed his fist to his mouth to keep it all down. “I thought maybe we could get some pay per view,” JC said softly, looking around the suite. “Order some food. Like old times.” Old times. Justin lowered his head and tried to recall a time when it hadn’t been like this. Such hell. He tried in vain to remember hanging out with his four friends, and laughing over silly things. Telling dirty jokes and munching on chips. Lounging without fear. Without agony. “Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Chris said, flipping through the room service menu, and Justin blinked up, unsure what it all meant. Was Chris backing down a little? JC’s expression showed relief and he sat beside Justin, rubbing his leg gently. “Lance sent me,” he whispered. “To watch over you.” It brought tears to Justin’s eyes, to think of how unselfish Lance was being. Still trying to protect. And though it was quiet, he could hear Lance’s desperate sob for help. TWISTED FIVE MENU TWISTED SEVEN