Date: Sat, 02 Oct 1999 13:41:15 GMT
From: Scotty T <thepoetboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Lance-In-Shining-Armour-7-9

Standard stuff -- still no sexual content, but it is cutesy guy/guy stuff.
Prepare yuorself for a pile of "sweet" that'll rot your teeth. :)  If you
don't wanna read this, then don't read it.

And this story isn't a realistic protrayal of the NSYNC guys!  I don't
know them nor do I claim to!  I just stare at their dreamy pictures and
whip up stories about them in lieu of actually going out and getting a
life of my own. :)

You can (and please do!) email me at thepoetboy@hotmail.com

Okay, I'm changing my posting -- I've put out 6 chapters, and hopefully
hooked a few readers. :)  Now I can switch to longer chapters posted less
often.  I can put more work into them, so they'll be  worth the wait!
Anyway, enough of the business, let's see some story.

Oh, and if you see some spelling errors, just assume that it's the
Canadian spelling. :)

***

Part 7 -- The Homecoming

This was my third year living in this building -- all three years on the
same floor.  I was the only one on my floor who'd been there that long.
Keeper of the flame.  Lore holder.  The old guy down the hall.  That was
me.

First year, I had a roommate -- a shy heterosexual guy.  Last year and this
year, I was in 713 -- a single room next to the Don.  (Dons are like
babysitters -- but they aren't as happy when you spit up on them.  They
keep an eye on the drinking and the drugs and the yada yada yada.
They're also the distributers of condoms -- the sound of someone
sneaking up to the Don's door to swipe a condom was familiar and
frequent.)  The room is a box, the bed runs pretty well the full length of
any wall.  And this box acts as my kitchen, bedroom, living room, office
and garden.  The bathroom is shared by the 26 guys on the floor.  Several
sinks, toilets, shower stalls, no waiting.  Lotta mess, but no waiting.

And every two floors in the building make up a house -- in my case, it's
the sixth and seventh floors.  A house sticks together for activities and
socialization and gossip mongering.  We also share a large common
room with a big tv that I still haven't ever used, but I've practically
bought with all of my residence life fees.

I lead James to my little cell, but entry was blocked.  The door was
plastered over with news clippings.  Dozens and dozens of copies of my
student card picture.  They all stared at me with their little black eyes.

"Just a second, James, the lock is around here somewhere."

I peeled off a few layers to get to the lock and then a few more layers to
get the peep hole functional.  I unlocked the door and slipped in.  James
stood at the door in shock.

"They expect you to live in here?"

"Eight months out of the year, yeah.  I've got to feed the fish in the
study, don't get lost."

I stepped up on the bed and checked on the fish on the bookcase that was
nailed to the wall.  Both alive, thank God.

I scooped Sweetheart up in the net and dropped the food in.  If I didn't
net him, Cupcake would never give him the chance at any of the food.
Cupcake took after Honey (may he rest in peace.)

I threw open the curtains to make the room seem a bit bigger.  There was
a great view of the tennis courts and a small forested area.  Peering down
I could see the not-quite-small-enough-to-be-ants still working on getting
the banner up.

"I don't think you're going to get much rest here, David.  I think they're
planning something."

"They will wait around for me to get back, but they won't see me.
Cause I'll be up here."

"Isn't that a bit mean?  I mean, they're putting in all this effort."

"I'm not aiming for a Miss Congeniality award.  I don't have to look
nice, I've got no CD to sell."

"I'm not just nice to sell CDS."

"I know, James.  I just want to rest.  No doctors, no camera, no nothing."

"You'll run into them at some point.  You can't pee in here."

"I could, I just don't wanna.  I like my plants to live."

"Let's go to the hotel.  JC booked me a room, you can have it."

"I can pay for my own room."

"Ah, so you're a rich student?"

Checkmate.  "Well, no."

"Then it's my treat.  At least as long as I'm in town."

He was standing on the floor, looking up at me where I was standing on
the bed.  He put his hand on my waist.

"You don't have a choice, Davey.  I'm pulling rank."

"Yeah, you are kinda rank.  Why don't you grab a shower while I pack?"

Bam.  He laughed.  Jeez, this smell thing is a goldmine.

He turned on the tv and flipped through the oh so many channel that my
antenna brought in.  Tall cement buildings are crap for reception, but
great for ripping off students with beautifully tiny rooms.

I gave all of my plants a thorough watering and grabbed the phone.  I
called Eric up on 9.  He was my roommate in first year -- he refused to
return to the floor after that cause it wasn't a nice place to be -- I waited
it out.  2nd year it was worse, 3rd year it was great.  Cause everyone
from second year got kicked out for obnoxious behaviour -- everyone but
me, though I came close.

"Eric?  It's David.  I'm not going to be around the building for a while,
can you take care of the fish for me?  Beauty.  Can you come down for
them, I'd bring them up but . . . I'm up to carrying a tank.  Beauty.  See
ya in a few."  I hung up.  "Best thing, James, is that I don't think he's got
a clue in hell who NSYNC or Lance Bass are.  I never heard him play
any music from after the seventies."

James had discovered my CD box, and he was going through it, pulling
out some CDS.  "Mind if I borrow some of these?  I don't have this Reba
album.  Or this . . . You like Dolly Parton?"

I avoided his eyes.  Apparently I hadn't emailed him all of my dirty little
secrets.  "Take what you want."

"Anything romantic?"

"The Muppet albums are at the bottom."

He hit me with a stuffed duck.  Then he went digging for the Muppet
albums.

There was a knock at the door.  I checked the peep hole and let Eric in.

"Eric, James.  James, Eric.  Fish are over there -- the black one is
Sweetheart, the orange one is Cupcake.  You've got to feed Sweetheart
in the net otherwise he'll never get anything."

"Hello to you too."  Someone had convinced him to grow facial hair and
for some reason he'd decided to do it, but just between his chin and his
adam's apple.  Dense, dark hair.  It was hilariously funny looking.

I could tell James was trying to be as polite as possible, but he was
staring at the neck hair.  It was hard not to.

Eric started to plop himself down into the other chair.  I glared at him,
but then realized the advantage.  I could go take a shower while Eric
babysat James.

I quickly and carefully overwatered all of my plants and then grabbed
my shower bag.

"I'll be back in a bit, boys."

James looked worried -- "Don't get the bandage wet, Davey."

I thought for a moment and then grabbed the cling wrap from the kitchen
and a roll of packing tape from the office -- fortunately this didn't
require me to move my feet.  Then I smiled and slipped out into the hall.

Behind me I heard Eric whisper, "He's got a crush on you."  James
giggled at him.  (Giggling is contagious -- but sounds even stranger with
James' deeper voice.)  I'd never told Eric that I was gay, but I'd always
assumed that he spent first year listening in on my phone calls.  His
earphones had always sounded just a bit quieter when I was using the
phone.

It was quiet.  No-one was in the halls and there were no water sounds
from the bathroom.  I eased the bathroom door open and took a quick
look.  All clear.  I could smuggle a shower in peace.

Which I did.  Sorry to skip over the nudity, but it was a dull ol' shower.
Just the way I wanted it.  Besides -- who wants nudity and gaping
gunshot wounds? :) It was just a simple shower and a quick shave.

I slipped back into my room where James and Eric were in stitches.
(Hmm.  Back choice of words from someone who just peeled wet cling
wrap off of his stomach.)  They both fell quiet and just stared at me.  I
was obviously the focus of the talk, but I didn't mind.

Eric gave James a quick wink and then climbed up on the bed to grab the
fish tank.  I slipped the fish food into his pocket and swatted his butt.

"Take care of my babies."

He just smiled and beat a hasty retreat, giving James a comical eye roll.

I tossed my shower bag back into the closet.

"Has anyone told him to shave that thing off?" James asked.  He came
up behind me and wrapped his arms around my own, pinning them to my
sides.

"I missed you," he whispered.

Call me a genius, but I was beginning to doubt his heterosexuality.
Doubt has never felt this good before. :)

"What did Eric tell you?  My complete lack of broom ball skills?   That I
nap every single day without fail?  That I used to let laundry pile up in
the closet for a month before I finally ran out of clean clothes?"

"Actually, none of that, but it's nice to know.  He relayed your  blind
date from hell' story."

"Lord, I'll tell you the full version some day -- it was too horrific to tell
Eric everything."  I laughed and managed to turn around.  James kept his
hands on my shoulders.  He leaned forward so that our noses and
foreheads were touching.

"James, keep this up and one of us will be pregnant by morning."

He snorted in my face -- one of the least romantic possibilities in life.
But cute. :)  And my insides were having a celebration that could make
the 2000 New Years look like a kiddie party at McDonalds.  With or
without the clown.

"Just let me packs some clothes and we can blow this pop-stand."  And
yes, I did have blowing on the brain, but not that sort.  I try to keep my
smut-mind suppressed.

He let go of my shoulders and a grabbed a few old school bags and
started stuffing clothes in.  I really wasn't paying attention to what I was
packing or how, I just filled a bag and threw it on the bed.  Then James
dumped them out, neatly folded everything and repacked.  It was a
dysfunctional conveyor belt, but lord, that blond machine on the end (the
one with the perfect eyebrows) was cute.

And not as straight as I'd thought he was.

***

I poked my head out of the elevator into the lobby.  James had called a
cab and we'd watched from my window until it had shown up, sitting on
my windowsill, with James' hand on my lower back.

So much for him being the shy one.

The lobby was empty.  I could see a few people outside in the courtyard,
but a lot of them had wandered off.  James was wearing one of Eric's
baseball caps (it had required an explanation of James' identity, which
Eric didn't buy.)  I was just hoping that students out there were out of
touch with current events and certain student card photos to not
recognize me until I was in the cab.  (Campus life is very internalized --
holy wars could break out in Ottawa and the residence people would be
none the wiser.  For 8 months we live in a shell, then we scramble to
catch up with the world during the four month summers.)

We walked slowly, trying to look as casual as is possible by two people
expecting to be caught and lugging a pile of mismatched luggage.

So, in effect, we stood out like an old oak tree in a potato field.

And there were twenty steps down from the door to where the cab was.

"Why can't we leave the back way?"

"Blame the guy who built the building -- the door automatically locks
after 7 so that everyone has to use the front door.  It's some weird
security set-up."

I looked away from the porter when we passed her office -- she didn't
seem to notice.  (A porter in a building like this is there to sign guests in
an out.  More security issues.  Now you're seeing why I called the rooms
cells.)

I pushed the doors open and turned to help carry James' suitcase down
the steps.  It gave me a reason to keep my face turned away from the
overgrown high-school decorators.  James kept as much of his face
hidden behind the lip of the hat as possible.

Escaping a hospital, then escaping my own home.  I felt like a man
escaping a war zone.  James and I were in the midst of a prison break.

Halfway down, James we were spotted.  It was inevitable -- perfect
escapes never happen.  Or, if they do, no-one bothers to write about them
cause they're dull.

James' look of panic was nowhere near dull.  It made everything
worthwhile.

She was standing two steps down, so I couldn't see her yet.

"You're not supposed to get here until tomorrow," she said.

"Just had to pick up some things.  Don't tell anyone.  I'll do my best to
look surprised tomorrow."

"You won't be here tomorrow," James whispered.

I gave him a panicked death stare and he shut up with a smirk.

"We spent a lot of time on this, David."

She sounded mad -- like I wasn't ALLOWED to show up early, not if it
meant her painted sign wasn't properly appreciated.

I gave a complex set of instructions to James with my eyebrows.  I hope
he understood it to be instructions to keep going to the cab instead of a
recipe for chili or some sort of forehead cramp.

He kept going down the stairs with the suitcase, taking one of my three
school bags as he passed.  The cabbie already had the trunk open.

I turned to the girl who had made this escape noteworthy.  She looked
like a first year student -- that would explain the lack of complete
apathy.  I smiled woodenly, watching Lance and the cabbie put the
suitcase and bag in the trunk.

"Look, I'm tired, I'm in pain and I needed a change of clothes.  Free
country."

"You should have called ahead."

"To come home?  I didn't know this was happening!"

She narrowed her eyes at me.  This girl, with some practice, could have a
quality death stare of her own.

"Look," I said, trying not to be obvious in my lie, "I'll be incredibly
happy and sincere when I come back tomorrow and see all you guys did.
I'll even introduce you to whichever NSYNCer you want to meet."

"I don't like NSYNC."

Perfect.  Then you won't mind never meeting  em, I thought.

"But I do think Lance is really cute," she continued.

You and me both, chicky.

"Deal.  I'll bring Lance with me tomorrow."

The cabbie was in the car and James was standing with the door to the
backseat wide open.

"Is that your banner?"  I pointed to it and she turned.

"No, I painted the . . ."

And I was off, hobbling at full speed towards the cab.  I could feel a
fledgling death stare burning into the back of my neck.

"We have a deal, David!" she yelled.

I could feel a lot of eyes watching my pathetic attempt at an escape and
James was laughing at me.  But I didn't care.  I threw my bags into the
car and jumped in after them.  James climbed in and slammed the door,
and we were off.

A dozen sets of wide eyes watched us go.

***

I was surprised that the boys had chosen the Holiday Inn -- I expected
something fancier.  It was a good sized room though with a double bed.
I was surprised by the couch -- I'd never stayed in a hotel room that had
a couch before.

James let himself fall face first onto the bed.  I did my usual tour, getting
a look at the bathroom (the bathtub had those little water jets!  I'd never
used one of those before.)

The bellhop (is that what they're called?) arrived with the bags a minute
later.  That was another new thing for me -- I was used to unpacking the
car and carrying the stuff myself.  I didn't even know that Holiday Inns
HAD luggage guys.  This was fancier than any Holiday Inn I'd ever seen.
I grabbed my wallet and searched for a five.  Then I let doubt creep in
and wondered what was usual for this sort of tip.

I gave him a twenty.  He nearly orgasmed on the spot.  I made a mental
note to stock up on fives.  While the orgasm was nice, my student budget
didn't give me much leeway to sexually satisfy many hotel workers.

Before he left, the luggage guy squinted at me.  "Aren't you . . ..
David?"

"No.  No, I'm not."

He looked disappointed, but he left so it was all good.

James was already snoring lightly on the bed.  I climbed up on the other
side and stared at the ceiling, remembering his hands on my shoulders.

Then, as I'm sure you've already predicted, I fell asleep.

***

When I woke up, I estimated it to be about eleven.  It was dark and
James was snuggled up to my side again, the wrong side this time.  This
arm was lying right over my sore spot, but I didn't have the heart to
move him.  I didn't have a good success run with waking him up
mid-snuggle.

But then again, there was a lot more bed to almost fall off of now, and
we were both on my side -- he had several feet of space to panic in.

Moot point anyway, I managed to move his arm without waking him.

Now, I've made a big deal about his smell.  The always clean Lance had
let the squeaky clean image lapse for the length of the hospital stay.  But
even when he wasn't clean, he did didn't really smell.  He had a faint
musk, but it was nice.

I've smelled much much worse, I thought, flashing back to the already
mentioned "blind date from hell."

He was so warm.  So cozily warm.  I wanted to roll onto my side and let
him just wrap around me, cocoon me.  But my tummy wasn't ready for
that.  With just a few more days left with him, my stomach was keeping
me from enjoying myself completely.

At least with him there, the faceless monster stayed out of my dreams.
He was still back in the hospital I'd escaped from.  I'd gotten away from
him and he'd never find me here, with James' warm arm around me.

But even worse than him was the girl's face.  Just her standing there,
needing to be saved.  But I couldn't.  Her father would find me if I did.

I had saved her -- but if I ever had the chance to save someone else, I
was terrified that I wouldn't be able to.  I'd let them die.

I slid my fingers between James', holding his sleeping hand.  He snored
into my ear, deep and soothing.

I'd save James.  For him, I wouldn't even hesitate.

James' cell phone rang and James' eyes popped open.  He looked at me
and saw that I was already awake.  He smiled and got up, walking
awkwardly to the phone that he'd dropped on the dresser.

"Hullo?  Yeah, Curly.  I checked in a few hours ago.  David?  Yeah, he's
here.  Okay, we'll be there in a few."

His accent was thicker now -- he must not be awake enough to repress it.
I'm a sucker for accents.  And cute boys.  And snugglers.  And
(apparently) deep voices.

He hung up and stretched.

"We've been invited to Justin's room -- he just found out about the
hospital escapades.  Your antics got picked up by the media."

He grabbed the tv remote and flipped around a bit until he found what
he'd been looking for.  "Justin mentioned it."  There was a black and
white security tape.  It showed James and I running across the hospital
lobby with the suitcase in tow.  Then Leslie ran into the shot, flashing
her happy finger.  (Fortunately, that got covered by a black dot.  She's
going to really love me for that.  I guess I won't go back to claim my
plants from the bathroom.)

"Oh yeah, where did all of the cards get put, James?"

He went to the suitcase and pulled out the stack of cards that had come
with the roses and other gifts.  I took them from him.

"Let's get over to Justin's room."

***

JC had arranged for all of the rooms to be grouped together.  All of the
guys were sitting around in Justin's room.  Chris was sorting through the
honour-bar.  Justin and Joey were flipping through the channels, but they
stopped when they found another channel showing my hospital video.
They were laughing like pot smoking hyenas.  JC was sitting on the
dresser, beside the tv.

"Is JC ever a happy camper?" I whispered to James.

James looked worried.  "Usually."

Joey pointed at the screen, excitedly chanting "Here comes the finger,
here it comes!"  Chris looked over from the mini-fridge.  Then Leslie
flashed her immortal finger to the screen, this channel didn't black-dot
it.

Joey and Justin cracked up laughing.

JC hit the power button and the tv went blank.

"So you're staying with us, David?"

All laughter died.  A horrible death.

James spoke for me.  "He's staying for a few days.  He'd never get any
rest in his building -- they were setting up some kind of welcome home
celebration when we were there this afternoon."

JC stormed out of the room -- he looked capable of destroying most of
the west coast before blowing himself out.

"That could've gone better," I muttered.

"That hospital thing was classic, man!"  Justin pulled me down beside
him on the couch.  James took JC's spot on the dresser.

"You should've seen the flight from my residence -- it was ten times
better."  I rattled off the story.  Joey kept laughing and clapping his
hands.  Chris had given up on the bar and tossed himself on the already
full couch.

James' eyes widened, but I shook my head -- I was unhurt.

JC exploded back into the room.  "I've set it up that we'll switch over to
one of the suites in the morning.  7 rooms.  That way none of us will
have to share."  He pointedly avoided looking at me.

With James' snuggling making his heterosexuality less and less obvious
over the past few days, I started drawing conclusions.  They didn't paint
JC in a favourable manner.

"I'm turning in.  We've got to switch rooms by 11."  JC left again.

Joey patted me on the shoulder.  "Sorry  bout that.  JC's time of the
month."

Chris' face stared up at me from Justin's lap.

"You're goatee is lop-sided, dude."

Justin covered Chris' face with his hands and they started a little fight.  I
put a protective hand over my wound and laughed.  Joey gave Chris a bit
of a shove and he fell off onto the ground with a yelp.

***

James wasn't happy when we finally got back to his room.

"A suite?  What's wrong with these rooms?"

"He doesn't want us to share a room," I answered.

"Then why wouldn't he just get another room for you?"

"Because he wouldn't be able to keep an eye on me to make sure I used
it.  He can watch us in a suite."

"Why would he want to keep an eye on us?"

"Because James Lance Bass is gay.  Or bi."

James froze in his steps, just before he flopped onto the bed.

"JC doesn't know that."

"I think he does."

"I never told him."

"You never told me either, but I figured it out."

"It's not like I cuddled up with him in his hospital bed."

"He's known you for a long time, James -- he figured it out and that's
that.  He knows.  I think most of them have figured it out."

"Maybe Justin told him."

I raised a not so perfectly plucked eyebrow at him (a week without
plucking causes notable change -- I'd packed my tweezers, so they'd be
great again by morning.)

"I don't think Justin would tell him.  So he figured it out."

"And now he's all weird.  Dammit.  This is WHY I didn't tell him."

"He'll come around."

"But he's not even trying to be nice to you."

"So what?  You guys leave on Saturday -- then he doesn't have to see me
again."

"He'll see you again.  He'll see you a lot if I have anything to say about
it."

"Planning on kidnapping me, Mr. Bass?"

He pulled me into another one of his warm hugs.

"I'm just planning on visiting Canada whenever I get the chance."

I wrapped him up as tightly as possible in my arms.

"Sounds good to me."

The hug went on and on and on . . . it was so incredibly comfortable that
I nearly fell asleep on his shoulder, standing in the middle of the room.
Neither of us was in a hurry to break it.

"If we're going to do any sightseeing tomorrow, Jimmy, we'd better get
some sleep."

We were already staring at the hind end of midnight -- James groaned
that I was right, but I still had to pull myself out of his arms.  He wasn't
much help.

I grabbed one of my bags and disappeared into the bathroom, watching
him watching me as I left.


***

Part 8

At 8 am, James woke me up.  By biting my neck.

I pushed him away, laughing.  I laughed even harder when I heard him
fall off the bed.

"Ouch," he muttered from the floor, then he chuckled.  His head popped
up over the edge of the bed and he grinned at me.  "I'm going to take the
longest shower of my life."

"I'm sure everyone will be glad to hear that."

He threw his pillow at me, but it was an easy catch.

He looked so cute walking into the bathroom in a pair of boxers (mine, I
noticed) and a t-shirt.  Adorable legs.

I rolled over and went back to sleep.

***

One hand was over my stomach.  I could feel the blood between my
fingers.  The other hand was holding a gun, pointed out into the
darkness.  He was out there -- out there somewhere.

The girl was crying, but I couldn't find her.  She was lost out there --
with him.  I had to go find her, get her away from him, but I couldn't
move.  My feet were slabs of cement.

I hurt too much.

***

James was standing over me, shaking me awake.  His hair was dripping
down into my face.  He looked concerned.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded and he pulled me into a hug.  He was soaking wet.  I held him
like I was dangling over a cliff and he was my only rope.

A rope that was wearing only a hotel towel, I might add.

That might sound out of place, but it's a family trait.  My family
responds to everything with humour.  When the call came in that my
grandmother had died, the family had a moment of mourning and then
the jokes started.  Some of the funniest things I've ever heard were after
that call.

Unfortunately, the laughter wasn't expected by James.  He thought I was
crying.

"It's all right, David.  You're safe.  You're okay."

That made me laugh harder.  To complete the moment, I bit his
shoulder.  He pulled back so that he could look at me in complete
confusion.

"Sorry, James."  I wiped the laughter out of my eyes and took a deep
breath.  Damn, I'm insane.  "I was raised to respond to bad things with
humour -- it's like a Pavlovian response now."

His confusion eased back into worry.

"Trust me, James, I'm a riot at funerals.  Go finish drying off -- you're
getting everything wet.  I'll be fine.  Oh, and nice nipples you got there."

He hesitated, but then he left -- blushing.  I went to my bag for my cling
wrap, scissors and tape and patched myself up for my own shower.  I
didn't like it, but I'd have to change the bandage too.  I decided to do it in
the bathroom after my shower -- that way James wouldn't get the chance
to help.  I didn't want to ever see him look at any part of me in disgust
again.

***

The suite was huge -- there was a living room, a dining room, a study, a
full kitchen.  It made my parents' house look like my rez room.  It made
my rez room look like . . . well, if anyone could live in a shoe-box, the
university was willing to arrange it.

Joey was already wandering around when James and I got there.  Joey
took a few of my bags from me.

"The best room is over here, David.  It's yours."  Joey lead the way and
James followed as best he could with his suitcase.

The bed was bigger than my rez room.  I stood there in awe.  James
stood in the door, smiling at my reaction.

Joey shut the door in his face.  "I'll keep him company, Romeo -- go
choose your room before JC has a fit."

James said something on the other side of the door, but I didn't hear it.  I
was still staring at the bed.

"Check the view, David."  Joey pushed my chin in the direction of the
city-scape.  I stood there like a zombie, quite aware that I was being
laughed at.

When I finally started to blink again, he dropped my bags on the bed.
"Now come on, hero-boy.  Let's balance out that goatee."

"Pardon?"

"It helps if someone else fixes it up, then you just have to keep it
balanced."

I grabbed the bag that had my bathroom supplies and Joey lead me to the
bathroom.  Marble floors.  Dear God.

"Where does the other door lead?"

Joey grinned slyly.  "If I guess right, it leads to Lance's room."

I opened the door a crack -- there was James, emptying his suitcase into
the dresser.

Joey pushed the door closed and dragged me to the sink.  "You can
thank me for that later.  Now let's get you symmetrical."

***

James and Joey were watching tv and I was still exploring the
mega-suite when JC arrived.  "Which rooms are still up for grabs?"

Joey didn't look away from the screen.  "If the door is open, then it
hasn't been claimed."

JC glared at me.  "Your hospital escape has gotten you even more
attention, if that's possible.  The paper even has info on your sighting at
the university."

Joey grinned at me.  "You're a celebrity, man!  They'll never forget you
now."

In my head, I listed every swear word I knew.  JC chose his room,
followed quickly by Chris and eventually the half asleep Justin.

I sat down on the couch and started going through my cards and letters,
just to pass the time while the guys unpacked.  There were a lot of names
I didn't know -- probably friends of my parents, or just general
well-wishers.

"Justin Timberlake."

"What?" James asked.

"The ass sent me flowers."

Justin came back from his room and collapsed in a big fancy chair.

"Yeah, and you abandoned them in the hospital."

"I couldn't run away with garbage bags of flowers and teddy bears."

"That would have been hilarious, man!"

"It wouldn't have fit in the cab!  Even if we had the time to pack it all in
well!  Thanks though.  You know how much I would have freaked if I
found flowers from Justin Timberlake in my bathroom?"

"Yeah, but Lance ruined that.  Flowers from me woulda been nothing
compared to having Scoop sitting beside your bed, or in your bed."

James disappeared behind a flood of blushing.

Chris came back.  "Speaking of bathrooms, how many does this place
have?"

Joey looked at me when he answered.  "Six bathrooms, seven
bedrooms."

"Cool," Chris said, "no-one has to share."

Joey winked at me.  "Nope, no-one HAS to."  I watched James' blush
deepen.

***

We met in the bathroom.  It was our attempt to soothe JC -- it meant that
we could each pretend to go into our own rooms and meet in the middle.

I sat on the bathroom counter and he leaned against the wall in front of
me.

"What do you wanna do today, James?"

I waggled my freshly plucked eyebrows at him suggestively and he
blushed.

"Justin wants to go up the CN Tower.  I want to go through the Royal
Ontario Museum."

"Yeah, they've got a nice selection of antique weapons.  You'll love it.
Then I can drag you through the bat cave."

"Planning on doing more crime stopping?  Can I be Robin?"

"Yeah, you're a comic genius."

"Joey seems to like you.  Same with Chris.  Justin goes without saying."

"So JC is the only one who loathes me?"

"He'll come around."

James walked over to me, standing between my knees.  He took my arms
and flopped them over his shoulders and put his hands on my hips.

"He will come around, David.  Cause if he doesn't I'll have to kick his
ass."

I laughed and pressed my forehead to his.

Justin's voice came from my room -- "David, where are ya?"

His face popped through the bathroom door and James and I turned to
stare at him.  His grin widened.  "Damn, I was hoping to see some skin."

He pushed the door open and walked in.  "When're we heading for the
Tower?"

"Whenever you want.  I'm ready whenever you are."

"No, you ain't.  You got something weird growing out of ya.  Better get
that thing Lanced."

I groaned in horror at the bad pun.  James buried his head in my neck,
laughing and Justin was laughing at the top of his lungs.

Chris popped his head in.  "What am I missing?  Why wasn't I invited?"
Then he saw Lance and I and he sighed.  "Aww.  The happy couple.
How annoyingly cute."

Joey tackled Chris from behind, down onto the marble floor.  Justin
cheered them on.

James jerked away from me when JC came in to find out what was going
on.  We tried to make it look natural, but JC looked furious anyway.

"Let's all get ready, guys," James said.  "The Tower awaits."

Justin, Chris and Joey filed out awkwardly.  James gave me a
questioning look, but I motioned him towards his room with my chin.
He gave me a supportive smile before he slipped out into his own room.

JC was staring at me -- he didn't even look like he was breathing.  The
storm was about to hit.

***

Part 9

As I watched the clouds spin and lightning form, I admit that I
considered faking a pain attack.  But then I knew that this storm would
still be waiting for me when all of my trickery had been used up.

I braced myself.

Unfortunately, being braced makes it hard to react to a curve ball (sorry
to mix my metaphors) -- JC was crying.

I stared in shock, wondering what I should do.  I already felt like his
enemy, so how comforting could I be?  Should I just call James and let
him deal with it?

JC backed up against the wall, watching me as much as he could with
flooded eyes.  I slid off the table and went over to him, putting a
comforting hand on his shoulder.  He pulled me into a hug, crying on my
shoulder.

"I hate you," he whispered hoarsely.

I just held him, for whatever it was worth.  His fingers were digging into
my back and he was sobbing loudly.  It was heartbreaking.

And soon I was crying too -- I was crying for the fatherless girl who had
no reason to trust anything anymore, I cried for my damaged skin, for the
death that lived in my stomach.  I cried because I couldn't be the hero
and media-boy everyone wanted.  And because I, somehow, had brought
this man to this point, the point where he could hate me.

JC pushed me away, just far enough so that he could pull up his sleeve
and wipe his face dry -- but the flood kept coming.

"I'm sorry, JC."

"Call me Josh."

He gained control of himself and smiled at me.  He grabbed some toilet
paper and balled it up, wiping my face dry.

"I don't understand what's going on, Josh."

"You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.  It's not really your
fault."

"Then why do this to me?"

"David -- I've known Lance for years.  You've got to remember that.
The whole groups spends most of our time together."

I suddenly knew where this was going.  Lordy, once he got started I was
lightyears ahead of him and not in the direction I'd previously guessed.

"You're in love with Lance?"

He looked at me -- amazed.  "I . . ."  He took a deep breath.  "Yeah, I'm
in love with Lance."

He broke down on my shoulder again.  "You can't tell him."

"I won't Josh.  I won't say a thing.  I'm sorry, Josh."

He sighed into my shoulder.

"Do you love him, David?"

"Yeah."

I could barely hear him.  He was so quiet.  "He loves you too.  I can tell."

"Josh, on Saturday you guys are going to leave.  He won't see me for
months."

"We're leaving Tuesday."

"You've got a concert on Saturday."

"It was cancelled -- there was a problem with the stadium.  Lance
would've known, but he's been busy."

"Still, Josh, you guys will go off and you'll have him back.  It'll be you
and him."

He leaned back and look at me with those gorgeous eyes and chiselled
cheeks.  "He won't give up on you, David.  You're in this for the long
run."

He wiped at his face with his sleeve again.

"You've won him, David."  He sighed.  "I don't think I'll be sight seeing
with you guys today."

I smiled at him. "I'd like you to come.  I promise no public displays of
affection or anything -- we'll just be six friends.  I'd like to get to know
you, separate from James.  When you're not snarling at me, you seem to
be a nice guy."

He smiled back.  "Deal."

***

JC and I freshened up in my bathroom before heading out to meet the
other guys.  They were all sitting on the couch looking like kids who
were waiting for the punishing parent to get home after an especially
prolific afternoon of bedroom wall art with permanent markers.

"Let's go," I said, and Josh and I headed for the door.  The others met us
at the elevator.

"Oh yeah," Josh said, "the phone password is watermelon."

"Phone password?" I asked.

"It's what people have to say to the switchboard operator to be able to
connect with one of us -- it keeps the fans out."

"Cool."

James put his hand on my back and I moved a few inches away.  I had to
find some way to get him to cut that out around Josh.  Maybe I could
convince him that Josh really didn't know he was gay . . . . but that
would be lying.  I couldn't do that to James.

I just gave James an "I'll explain later smile" and tried not to look at his
worried expression.

"Brace yourself for some mobs," Joey said.

"I'm not worried.  It's not like I'm with the Backstreet Boys or
anything."

Chris and Joey tackled me from the side.

***

End of part 9.   I hope you enjoyed this installment!  The feedback has
been great so far -- I love to get all the emails, keep it up!  We'll make it
an informal contract, you guys email me so that I'll write for you. :)
thepoetboy@hotmail.com         Thanks for reading!