Date: Sun, 28 May 2000 03:39:40 EDT
From: Gabriella Morrison <sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Surprise Romance 12-13

Hi everyone!

  This is chapter 12-13 of my new story. I really hope you're enjoying it
so far. Thanks for the outpouring of e-mail that I have received from the
last chapter. The comments that were given were extremely helpful and
actually guided the course of Chapter 12, which, although may seem a bit
boring, wraps up all of the loose bits and pieces of the previous chapters
together. It also sets up a springboard for situations that will come up in
the next chapters ahead.

Now, this is the part where I definitely give thanks. Thank you to those of
you who e-mailed me and told me nice things. And special, special thank
you's go out to Justin, Damon and Clarke. There is no way I could sit down
at my computer and write this without thinking of any of you. Everytime I
get an e-mail from one of you it makes my day. YOu guys are the absoulte
best and I couldn't have written this without your support. And for
everyone else, please, please e-mail me!!! I'm not desperate, but I love
e-mail and to hear how I'm doing. Here's the address:
sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER: This is a fictional story depicting m/m relationships. It is
not meant to depict the sexuality of any members of `N Sync or Lance
Bass. You have to be 18 or 21 to read this, blah, blah, blah....you know
the drill. And here I go...


My Surprise Romance

Chapter 12


They say love makes you do crazy, strange things. And I never had a chance
to experience that feeling until now.  I found myself driving to work
(surprisingly enough, this was an actual scheduled day off for me), so that
I could ask them for a leave of absence. As the trees and other scenery
flashed passed me, my mind reeled. What was I going to tell them? `Hi, I'd
like a leave of absence because I'm going on tour with my boyfriend? Yes,
that's right--a boyfriend. Oh, I didn't tell you I was gay? Well, now you
know.' I thought as I turned into the parking lot and searched for a space.

When I finally found one (about ten minutes later after stalking a nurse
for her spot), I took a deep breath, and walked into the building. I
checked my bruised face in the glass of the door. Nice, I thought as I
noticed how dark the bruise had grown. I said hello to the receptionist
(and enjoyed her shocked expression as her eyes landed on my face) and
walked into the door marked, "Employees Only". I was out of one world and
into another--one filled with the disgusting smells of `nutrient-rich'
milkshakes and strange food I wouldn't feed my worst enemy. God, I would
miss this place.

I walked into Carol's office. She was the head of the kitchen as well as
the biggest bitch on two feet. Everyone despised her since she was working
the game of nepotism ever since she decided to hire her niece and give her
all of the good shifts. Carol looked up at me in surprise.

"Yes?" she said, closing the notebook in front of her.  No `hello', no
`how're you doing'-- nothing. It took me all of my composure not to slug
her in the face (since I knew she hated me, and I hated her), as I opened
my mouth.

"I need a leave of absence," I said bravely. Dead silence.

She looked at me coldly. "A leave of absence? And what brings this on?" she
asked, folding her hands under her chin, and tipped her face.

"I've gotten the chance to travel around the country and I'd like to do
it. I've never had an opportunity like this before and I'd hate to pass it
up, Carol," I explained, biting back the obscenities my mouth wanted to
scream the entire time.

She looked at me as though I was crazy. "No. There is no way I can grant
you a leave of absence for some silly reason like that," Carol replied,
turning back to her desk.

I stood there. That was it? That? A two-second answer? You had to be
kidding me.

"Are you sure? I mean it would only be for a month. And then I'd be back at
work, no problem." I said politely

"Stephen, I said `no.' We're short on staff as it is and you have the
majority of the pots and pans shifts. So the answer is, *no*," Carol said
coldly and turned back to her desk.

I stood there, not saying a word. No. That meant that I couldn't go on tour
with Lance.  For some reason, the word `no' had no place in my vocabulary
at that moment. And I'll admit it. I snapped.

"Fine, then I quit," I heard myself saying. "I quit this fucking job,
Carol. And you know what? Everyone hates you here. And no one has the guts
to say it to your face, because they're all scared of you." I felt as
though one weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and another one
dropped on it.

I spun out of my heel and walked out. Another chapter in my life had ended
and another one began.



When I got back home, I saw that my mother's car was sill gone, which
worried me a bit. I still hadn't absorbed the information that she was
seeing a shrink. The fact that she was worried about me, amazed me since I
must have been too blind to notice it.

I quietly entered the house and saw Lance sitting at the kitchen table,
staring off into space.

"Ahem," I said softly, which caused Lance to jump about three feet into the
air.

"God...just sneak up on people, won't you? Yeesh," he said, rolling his
eyes, walking over to me. "You scared me this morning and look what
happened," he said, the expaserated look replaced by a provocative
smile. He walked over to me and threw his arms around my neck.

"Oh, give it a rest already. And I mean, give it a rest." I bantered, as he
gently moved me against the kitchen wall, ready to kiss me.

"So, how did--" Lance gave me a quick kiss. "Your talk at work go?"

"I quit," I announced. Lance stared at me in shocked astonishment.

"You quit?"

"I quit," I repeated. "Carol wouldn't even hear me out and I snapped and I
quit. I know it was rash," I said, sliding myself out of Lance's
embrace. "I know. And I hated doing it, because I really liked my job. It
was great, but..." I trailed off, shrugging. "What are you gonna do?"

"You shouldn't have quit for me," Lance argued, sitting back down at the
table. "I can't believe you did that."

"And I can't believe you left the tour this morning and were willing to
quit the group for me. So in a way," I concluded, giving him a sly
smile. "We're even."

"When you put it that way, it makes sense. I like a smart boy," he said,
leaning over the table.

"Oh, you're not interested in my mind, you're just interested in my body,"
I shot back, as I began to lean over myself, meeting him halfway. We met in
a kiss, when I heard my cousins voice coming from the living room.

"Oh for God's sake, can't you two stop? I've had boyfriends before and
we've never been as mushy as you two are." I looked up and saw Cynthia
standing in the doorway of the kitchen, her arms folded across her chest,
tapping her foot.

"Great--ma and pa feds are here," I observed lightly as she walked over to
me and slapped me in the head.  "Hey Cynth, can I ask you a question?" I
called out as she walked to the refrigerator.

"What?" she asked opening the appliance and took out a carton of orange
juice. She placed it on the butcher's block that sat in the middle of the
kitchen and looked at me expectantly. "Go on, ask away."

I looked at Lance and we traded, `oh-what-the-hell' looks with each
other. Immediately, my cousin grew suspicious.

"Okay, what is it? You two getting married already?" Cynthia remarked
waiting for a question. "Want me to be your bridesmaid?"

I rolled my eyes at her comments. "Actually, I was more along the lines of
wondering if you'd like to go on a trip with me," I began. Cynth narrowed
her eyes and walked over to the counter in back of me and hopped onto it.

"What are you talking about, Stevie? Make some sense here to me," she said,
crossing her legs.

"I mean, how would you like to go on tour with me and`N Sync? There. Am I
making sense to you now?"

Cynthia sat on that counter for a full two minutes, her face changing with
each thought that passed her mind. I looked back at Lance, who was watching
my cousin with great interest. I managed to catch his eye and he smiled at
me.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I've just never met anyone like her before," he
murmured under his breath.

"I heard that!" Cynthia shouted out from her perch on the countertop. She
slid off of it, walked over to the table and hopped onto it, positioning
herself so that Lance and I couldn't see each other.

"Well, I've decided," she announced us. "And as long as I don't have to
scream for you guys or anything like that, then yeah, I'm game." She
grinned.  "By the way, can I sell some of my t-shirts there? It'd be great
for business..." Cynthia trailed off, polishing her nails on her shirt.

I shifted my head, so that I could see Lance. "What do you think? Do we
strangle her or hit her over the head, first?" I joked.

"I say both for coming up with that great idea," Lance laughed, reaching up
and pretended to put her hands around her neck. Cynthia slid off the table,
a pout on her pretty face.

"Fine, fine you two," she said, heading back towards the living
room. "Treat me like that...you should be honored that I'm coming along
with you guys on tour." She stopped and came back into the kitchen. "Hey,
Stevie, when are we leaving?" she asked.

I looked at Lance. "Good question. I don't think we can leave tonight with
you and Josh," I told him. "It's gonna take me awhile to pack and stuff. I
mean the flight leaves in," I looked at my watch. "about four and a half
hours."

"I could help you pack," Lance offered. "I just have to call Josh up and
see if he can get two more tickets for tonight. Should be no problem
there."  I stood up and handed Lance the telephone, so he could make a
phone call to Josh.  While he did that, I pulled Cynthia on the side.

"Sure you don't mind?" I asked her in a low voice. She bit her lip,
hesitantly, and for a few seconds, avoided any and all eye contact with
me. Finally, she looked up at me, a bit nervous.

"Stevie...don't you think this is all going a little too fast? I don't want
to burst your bubble, but, God...you know him for a few days and then
you're attached at the hip." She urgently pulled me by the hand, into the
living room and sat me down on the couch.

"Look, I'm really happy for you. God knows you deserve it, you've been
through so much crap in your life, but are you ready to spend every waking
moment with Lance? You carry a lot of emotional baggage around with you,"
Cynthia said worriedly. "I just don't want you getting hurt. You're new at
this game, you don't know the rules and," she paused, thoughtfully for a
moment and then continued, "from the looks of it, I don't think Lance does
either. You're both in lust, like dogs in heat."

 I laughed at her expressive simile, but surprisingly enough, my cousin
wasn't joking. "I mean it, Stevie--just be careful. Don't let your heart
get in the way of reality." That said, Cynthia gave me a quick hug and then
fled upstairs

I was still sitting in the living room, when Lance came back in. "Hey," he
said, falling next to me on the couch. "I called up Josh and he said that
it would be no problem to get two plane tickets." He rested his head on my
shoulder, satisfied with the way things were working out. I guess he was
surprised that I didn't respond, because a few seconds later, he looked up
at me.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lance asked me, worry clouding his green eyes. "You
okay, Stephen?"

For a brief second, I considered telling Lance that I didn't want to go
with him. Part of me thought that Cynthia was right--he didn't know half of
the things I wanted him to know about me. And in a way, we were still total
strangers, doing crazy things for no reason. All to be with each
other. Maybe, I thought, that old saying is right: absence does make the
heart grow fonder. If Lance and I were meant for each other, then
post-tour, we could be together. And if we weren't together, then oh, well,
life moves on...right?

Then how come these thoughts hurt so much? I quickly shook my head, trying
to get rid of those thoughts the way an etch-a-sketch gets rid of pictures.


"Nothing," I said, giving Lance a fake smile. "Everything's all right. I'm
just thinking about some stuff." I gave him a nervous laugh, afraid that
somehow he could read my thoughts. "You know me, always thinking."

"I don't mind--as long as it's about me," he said with a perfectly innocent
look on his face. I swatted him gently on his cheek.

"It's always about you," I laughed, as he leaned in for a kiss. It was
silly to doubt anything between me and Lance, I thought as our lips met.
Everything was going to be all right.

Right?




Around two-thirty, I heard the front door open and shut. I was in the
kitchen, having something to drink, when my mother and Natalie appeared in
the doorway. God, Natalie--I had forgotten all about her, I thought in
dismay as she ran up to me and hugged me.

"Stephen," she squealed, I felt the pit of my stomach sink deeper as I
returned her hug. "I never see you anymore," she said. "You're always at
work, or mom is asking Angela or Beth's parents to take me in for the
night." She frowned and looked at the bruise on my face. "I feel like this
isn't my home anymore," she complained, before inquiring about my face. I
shrugged it off and looked at my mother, who was standing by the kitchen
table, carefully watching us. Let her watch, I thought as I wrapped my arms
around her tighter.

I ran a hand through her soft hair, closing my eyes. How the hell could I
have forgotten about my sister? I thought angrily. In a bizarre way it was
her fault that I had met Lance; if she hadn't won those tickets to their
concert, I would have never met Lance and my life would have went on. So in
a way, my sister was the angel or devil (take your pick) in disguise.

"Natalie," my mother called out. My sister turned her head towards my
mother, who was trying her damnest to control the disapproving look on her
face. "Come over here, please."

"But mom, I barely see Stephen anymore," she whined, holding on to me
tighter. "I miss him." Did she really have to go say a thing like that? The
pain in my stomach grew, as my mother called my sister over to her again.

"Natalie--now!" And my sister slowly walked over to her, head hanging down
as though she had done something wrong. "You know Angela's mom is going to
pick you up in a few minutes. Why don't you go outside and wait for her,"
my mother suggested in a cold voice.

Obligingly obeying her mother, Natalie began to walk towards the living
room, without anymore questions asked. I stopped her in the midst of her
tracks.

"Hey, Nat," I said, my heart breaking seeing the sad look on her face. I
would have given anything to have taken her with me, but I knew that I
couldn't.  "I'm leaving tonight. I'll be gone for awhile, but I'll be
back."

Natalie looked at me with shocked eyes and I heard a loud gasp from my
mother.

"What!?" they both asked at the same time. I looked only at Natalie, who
had grabbed on to my hand--my mother could wait until later.

"Yup, I'm going to do a little traveling for a few months," I told her, a
grin plastered on my face. "I'll be sure to send you some postcards, but I
just need to get away for awhile." Natalie stood there in shock and I guess
I couldn't blame her. Imagine being told that-- Surprise! Your brother is
going away for awhile! And you didn't even know it. Hell, he didn't even
know it until a few hours ago.  We stood there staring at each other--there
was nothing else that could be said. "Now go meet your friends," I told my
sister, who was still staring at me with wide-eyed confusion. Natalie gave
me one last hug and a kiss, before running off. I honestly think that she
knew something was wrong--she's not stupid, my sister. I just wish I could
have told the honest truth--but it would be impossible. You're an eleven
year old girl. Imagine finding out your older brother is going on tour with
`N Sync. You keep that a secret. See? You probably couldn't.

With that off my shoulders, I stood up and looked at my mother, who was
staring at me. The hateful, disgusted expression on her face was almost
more than I could handle.

"You're leaving?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested. But I knew that
inside she was dying to know where I was heading.

"Yes. Tonight. At six o clock." I put the juice back into the refrigerator,
and ignoring my mother, I began to make my way towards the living room so I
could go back upstairs. No such luck. Before I had a chance, my mother
grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me back towards her.

"Where are you going?" she asked sharply. "I have a right to know."

"No, you don't," I said coldly. "You've never cared about my problems
before."

"That's because you've been shutting me out."

"Maybe because you've been treating me like the plague ever since I told
you I was gay. I'm not--I'm still your son. Why can't you accept that, mom?
You've always been like that." I paused. "Cynthia told me how you've been
going to church, and you've been seeing a psychiatrist. Why? Why can't you
just treat me normal?" I managed to say. It felt like it was getting hard
for me to breathe. Still I ranted on. "I took care of Natalie when you had
to go to work all the time. I was good enough then. I'm only good enough
when you needed me and now that I'm finally content with myself, you feel
obliged to destroy it for me."

My mother shook her head, tears forming in her eyes. I stopped myself for a
brief second--her eyes were so much like Natalie's that I almost cracked
under the pressure. But I didn't. I turned back to my original destination
of heading back upstairs when my mothers voice called out.

"It would have been different if your father raised you."  I stopped dead
in my tracks, since I didn't know what to say to her outburst. Lately, I've
thought a lot about my father and what it would be like if he had been
around during my formative teenage years. But he wasn't. He was dead,
through no fault of his own, but he was gone out of my life. I was eleven
when he died and I rarely talked about it with anyone. It was a pretty
sensitive topic for me, one that Cynthia didn't even cross into. And now my
mother was using it against me. Or at least I thought she was.

"Dont you even say that to me again. It is not dad's fault that I am like
this. He's dead." I turned back to her. "How *dare* you say that." I turned
back around, before my mother spoke up again.

"Stephen, if you leave, I completely disown you. Completely." I felt as
though I had been knifed in the back.

"Go ahead--do what you must," I said quietly. I wasn't going to yell or
scream anymore. I didn't need that. Instead, I just held my mother's
defiant gaze for a few seconds, before heading back upstairs to finish
packing.



Chapter 13


At around five-thirty, Josh, Lance, Cynthia and I arrived at the local
airport. I was a bit nervous--okay, more than a bit nervous. I had never
flown anywhere before and the idea of being on a plane was more than
nerve-wracking, it was terrifying. At least people weren't staring at my
face, I thought graciously, since Cynthia had covered up my bruise with
some of her concealer.

"You know I would hold your hand if I could," Lance muttered under his
breath, as we waited for our flight to be called. He and Josh were trying
their best to look normal--they were both wearing hats, their backs turned
towards the majority of the airport crowds, as we sat in the waiting
area. They also had on these strange, black-horn rimmed spectacles on as
well, which, to tell you the truth, decreased their attractiveness by over
a hundred percent. In addition to those glasses, both of them were wearing
these hideous looking clothes, to further disguise themselves.

"I feel like I'm with the geek convention," Cynthia moaned, hiding her face
in her hands. "I've never been so embarrassed in my life." She looked at
Josh. "Don't you think the seventies shirt with the butterfly collar was
taking it too far?" She fingered the hideous polyester material with her
fingers as though it was poisonous.

"It's quite stylish. Scoop, what do you think if showed up at the next
cover shoot with these on?" Josh asked Lance, who grinned in return.

"Personally, I think we'd be starting a new trend," Lance laughed, looking
down at his own seventies throwback. Then he looked at me, with a concerned
expression on his face. "Where did you get these shirts anyways?" he
inquired. "I'd hate to think that my boyfriend had such rotten taste before
I knew him."

"You don't like them?" I asked him, pretending to be hurt, despite the
feeling of nausea that was beginning to overcome me. "Well, there goes your
Christmas present," I sighed. "You just spoiled my big surprise." Lance
just laughed, and touched my fingers lightly, sensing the discomfort on my
face. He leaned over towards me.

"Hey, Stephen--don;t worry about the flight. I've been on planes before and
there's just a little turbulence at times. It's not bad." The word
`turbulence' didn't exactly settle my stomach, so I just kept
quiet. Suddenly, I noticed that Josh was staring at my cousin, who was
doing her best to ignore the two geeky-looking people next to her.

"Hey, Cynthia," he said. "What if I acted like you were my girlfriend?"
Josh teased her, placing an arm around her shoulders. "How'd that make you
feel?"

Cynthia looked at him with a drop-dead glare, ready to swat him with the
magazine that she had been previously engrossed in. "Get your arm off of
me," she hissed. "People might actually think I'm attracted to you." I
think she was about to say more, when all of a sudden we heard our flight
being announced over the intercom.

"Thank God," she muttered, getting up and grabbing her on-flight bag. She
walked about ten steps ahead of us, and actually handed her boarding pass
to the female attendant without even waiting for us to catch up with her. I
looked at Lance and Josh with an amused look.

"I have never known my cousin to be embarrassed like that," I told them as
I gave my boarding pass to the attendant. "You guys are bringing the best
out of her, I swear. You," I said, turning to Lance, "made her blush and
mute. And you--" I said, turning to Josh, "really embarrassed her. Good
job, there guys."

"Hey, I'm just filling in where I'm needed," Josh said, as he handed his
pass to the attendant. The girl looked at him, quickly at first and then a
with a bit more scrutiny. Then she looked at Lance, with the same probing
gaze. She had to be about our age, in her early twenties, no older, and all
I could think was, `Oh crap, we're busted.' Everything was working out too
smoothly to go well.

"Hey, you know who you guys kinda look like?" The girl said to Josh and
Lance, after we had all entered the terminal. "You kinda look like those
guys from `N Sync," she said, smiling.

"Really?" Josh called out. "No one's ever told me that before," he said
with a grin, as we moved further and further down the terminal. "Thanks!"

Once we had disappeared out of sight, we all started laughing. I saw
Cynthia waiting for us at the doorway, finally beginning to smile for the
first time since we had arrived at the airport.

"What's so funny?" she asked. "See yourselves in a mirror?"

"Oh, ha ha, Cynthia. You know, you are quite the comedienne,"Josh said, as
we boarded the plane and almost immediately, my temporarily forgotten
nervousness had reappeared. I listened to Josh and my cousin quibble for a
few more seconds, as I eyed the plane. While I did this, Josh and Lance had
taken off their disguises and once again looked as handsome as before. They
began to talk to a stewardess (who thankfully was older and could care less
who `N Sync was), who showed us to the first class section.

"Hey, I've never traveled in style like this," Cynthia said in awe as she
noticed the plush surroundings of first class. I, however, could care less
about how we were traveling, as I began to break out in a cold
sweat. Cynthia took a window seat, with Josh falling into the seat next to
her. Lance and I sat in back of them, as he looked at me with obvious worry
in his beautiful eyes.

"Are you gonna be okay?" he asked, looking around the plane, before taking
my hand in his. I smiled at him through my terror, thankful that his soft
skin was reassuringly grasping my hand. I felt a little better at his
touch, but not by much.

"Yeah...I think so...how long do these flights last?" I managed to say,
before hearing the sound of the plane taking off begin.

"Not long," Lance said reassuringly. "Don't worry--I'll be here to take
care of you," he said with a mischievous grin. I smiled back, fully knowing
what he meant. Obviously, Josh heard it to, because he turned around to us.

"Geez, you two. Am I gonna have to get a bucket of water?" he teased us,
but to be honest, I didn't care. I was more freaked out abut traveling, via
air. I suddenly wanted to feel the ground beneath my feet. Was being with
Lance really worth it, if I was going to die of frazzled nerves?

"Hey, Stevie," Cynthia said, turning around in her seat. "Take these." she
handed me two little white pills, and I looked at them suspiciously.

"What are they?" I asked her, staring at the pills in my hands. "Sleeping
pills?"

"Not sleeping pills--airsickness pills. Or something like that. Just take
them," she said waving me off, and turning back around in her seat. "I take
them all the time," she called over her shoulder.

I looked at Lance, and he shrugged. "Maybe she's right," he said, raising
his eyebrows. "I don't think they'll make you any worse than now," he said,
stroking my hair back from my forehead and looking into my eyes. I felt
myself melting as I stared into those eyes. It did that to me everytime,
and I could tell that Lance felt the same way.

Suddenly, the announcement of the pilot brought us back to life. I snapped
my head straight to front as Lance's hand jerked away from my forehead as
though he had been electrocuted by me. We had momentarily forgotten about
where we were, in a public place, surrounded by dozens of prying eyes and I
once again hexed Lance's curse of fame. I glanced at him and he looked at
me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled, turning to the window and slumping in his seat. I felt
as rotten as he looked. And then I looked at the white pills in my
still-trembling hand.

`Eh, what the hell,' I thought, waving down the stewardess for a glass of
water before throwing the pills into my mouth. `What could possibly go
wrong?'



I woke up in a hotel room, feeling as though my eyelids, arms and legs were
made of lead. The last thing that I remembered was being on a plane,
sweating like crazy and worrying like mad. And now I was flat on my back,
staring at a ceiling, and I had no idea where I was.

I wanted to yell out to someone, but my mouth was as dry as
cotton. Suddenly, Lance's head looked appeared over mine.

"Hi, honey," he said, with a sweet grin on his face. "Finally awake?"

I attempted to sit up, but fell back on the bed immediately. Lance took a
seat next to me and gently slipped his hand under my back , propping me up
into a sitting position. He had changed his tacky shirt, thankfully, into a
much more attractive white one. It was good to see him, and it was finally
good to be alone with him, away from the public, where we could act
naturally with one another.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, rubbing my back in small soothing circles. He
handed me a glass of water, and I took it from him, drinking the entire
glass in one gulp. "I was really worried about you on the plane. I thought
you slipped into a coma or something." He softly kissed my forehead, and
wrapped his arms around me.

"Thanks," I said gratefully, giving him a smile. I let out a sigh, finally
feeling safe in his arms. "Hey, what happened?" I finally questioned him,
trying to search my mind for some clue that would tip me off to why I was
in my current state of stupor.

Lance shook his head. "You know those pills that Cynthia gave you?" he
began. "Well, it turns out that she should have given you one. She
practically overdosed you on the plane--accidental of course," he added,
after seeing my worried expression

I shook my head. "Figures--trust my cousin to screw up a prescription. So
how did I get into here?" I said, looking around the hotel room.

Lance laughed. "Josh, Cynthia and I had to drag you in here," he recalled,
through a fit of giggles. "You should have saw your face--you looked like
you were so hung over. Everyone was looking at us when we came into the
hotel and I think a few people took some pictures of you."

"Great," I said, dryly. "I'm a tourist attraction, now." I was slowly
coming round to a more conscious state and my head felt less and less like
it was underwater. My balance was pretty good too. I looked at Lance, with
a grin on my face.

"So, this is my hotel room, huh?" I asked, looking around the spacious
room. "It's very nice. Do I get a roommate?" I smirked, acting as innocent
as could.

"Yeah. Me," Lance said, pulling his legs onto the bed. "How's that for a
roommate?"

"Eh, not that great," I scoffed. "I've seen you naked already. Where's the
challenge?"

Lance didn't answer my question, but instead pulled me in for a long,
passionate kiss. I felt my mouth open as his tongue pried its way in
between my lips and lustfully searched around for a couple of seconds,
before mine did the same. Our kiss lasted for quite awhile, only stopping
so that we could come up for air.

"God, I missed that--it was just a couple of hours, but still," Lance
sighed into my ear, after we parted.

"Too much talking," I said breathlessly, as I pulled Lance's face to mine
again for another deep kiss. We rolled around on the bed for a few seconds,
our hands sliding underneath each others clothing. We had become
uncontrollable, I thought as his lips trailed down my neck. And I didn't
mind it one bit.

There was a knock at the door just then, and we heard Josh's voice call
out, "Guys, is it safe for me to come in?" Lance and I stopped in mid-kiss,
our eyes open wide.

"What is this, three for three?" he managed to say crankily, as he rolled
off my body. He pulled himself into a sitting position and straightened his
rumpled clothing and ran his hands through his hair. I did the same and
called out, "Okay, come on in."

Josh opened the door up, and gave us a knowing look. "Did I interrupt
something here?" he asked, with a slightly uncomfortable smile on his
face. He noticed Lance's grouchy expression as well as our out-of-breath
mannerisms.

"Maybe," I said, attempting to pull myself up. "What's up Josh?"

"The rest of the guys are back from dinner, Lance," Josh said, a bit
gravely. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to talk to them, or what..." he let
his voice trail off, unsure of what else to say. Josh looked at me and
smiled.

"Hey, Stephen," he said, waving at me, "Feeling better?"

"Much," I replied. "Thanks for dragging me into the building,"

"Hey, no problem. It's just that a certain person," Josh said, letting his
eyes slide towards Lance, "thought they'd try to carry you in by himself."
I looked at Lance, who just shrugged and began to blush.

"Oh, Laance," I said, my voice mimicking a high, southern accent. "You are
such a gentleman."

He leaned over and slapped me on the the thigh, his face turning red. "Stop
it," he warned me. He looked up at Josh. "And thanks for keeping a secret
there, buddy."

"Hey, no problem--thought your boyfriend would like to know," he said with
a grin, looking at me. Then he turned back to Lance. "So, Scoop--are you
ready to tell the rest of the guys?"

Lance let out a bitter laugh, and it was a little surprising to hear it. "I
guess I have no other choice--I mean," he said, while getting off the bed,
"the rest of the guys'll probably want to know why Stephen and Cynthia are
here, right?" Josh nodded wordlessly, and watched his bandmate with
worry. Just as Lance was about to leave the room, he turned to Josh .

"Hey, man, I'll be down there in a minute, okay? I need to talk to Stephen
for a second." Lance shut and locked the door behind him, and walked over
to the bed, pulling me off of it.

"Stephen, I want you there with me," he said, softly, pulling me closer to
him. "I *need* you in there with me when I talk to the guys."

"Are you sure? You're positive that you want me there? What if the guys get
mad at you?" I asked frantically, as he ran his hands up an down my back.

"They won't," Lance said confidently, but deep down, I could tell that he
was unsure and more than a little worried.  "I need you there. I wouldn't
have come out in the first place if I hadn't met you, Stephen. And the guys
have a right to know who I'm seeing and why I ran off like that."

"Alright," I said, a little uncertainly, as Lance unlocked our door and we
walked down the hall, hand in hand.  We stopped at a suite, a few door down
from ours and Lance knocked on the door.

"Guys?" he called out. "It's Lance." Almost immediately, the door opened
and Joey was standing there. His eyes looked at Lance and then moved over
to me. I guess some of the concealer over my bruise had worn off, since his
eyebrows shot up when his eyes passed over my cheek. But still, he remained
speechless.  He opened the door wider to let us in, and with Lance and I
still holding on to each other's hands, we took seats on a elegantly
upholstered couch that sat in the corner.

Facing us, were Justin and Chris, who were sitting on individual
chairs. Joey sat on the floor next to them. I suddenly felt as though I was
in an execution. It was a weird, creepy feeling being looked at by six
inquisitive eyes. I saw Chris' eyes fall down to Lance's hands and mine,
which were locked together even tighter.

At first, no one said anything, until Lance broke the silence. "Okay,
guys--I'm not mincing words with you. We've known each other for ages, and
I mine as well tell you--I'm gay." Lance looked at me, finally beginning to
smile. "And," he said, looking into my eyes, "I'm in love."

 I couldn't help but smile back at Lance, as we just stared at each
other. I noticed that his lower lip was trembling, and as much as I wanted
to lean over and kiss him, I couldn't. I wasn't comfortable enough yet with
the other guys watching--to me, Lance and I weren't a `public' couple, and
we never could be. We still had to be as private and secretive as we always
were, for fear of getting caught and exploited.

While these thoughts whirled around in my mind, I realized that the guys
were still quiet, just staring at Lance and I.  I was waiting for someone
to yell something...I was almost anticipating it in a sick sort of way.

Justin was the first one to speak. "So you're gay--and..." he let his words
trail off, looking at Lance and I curiously.

"And what?" Lance asked, clearly confused by his casual response.

"And what else? You're gay--big deal," he said, slowly and carefully, as
not to sound as though he didn't care. "How many people in the music
business have we met that are gay."

I looked at Justin with an admiring glance. He had taken it surprisingly
well, I thought as I felt Lance's hand loosen its grip on mine. I looked
over at my boyfriend, whose face looked a little less nerved up. My eyes
immediately went to Chris and Joey, who were still silent.

"Well?" Lance asked them, waiting for their answer. Chris and Joey looked
at each other and shrugged.

 "I told you man," Joey said to Chris, "I always told you I thought Scoop
was gay. I told you and told you...but you couldn't believe it."

"You thought I was gay?" Lance said incrediously. "You mean, you always
suspected it?"

"Sure," Joey said with a devilish grin. "You're the pretty one, aren't
you?" He fluttered his eyelashes at him, while Lance threw a pillow at him
in retaliation. It landed squarely on Joey's head, completely taking him by
surprise.

"Don't throw like a pretty boy, do I?" Lance shot back, as Joey rubbed his
head where the pillow had hit him. Justin and I began to laugh at Joey's
cross expression, as he hucked the pillow back at Lance, who caught it
squarely in his hands.

"Nice try," Lance laughed, placing the pillow back down on the couch. He
then grabbed my hand again and smiled at me, a little more relieved. Yet,
there was one person left who hadn't said a word--Chris.

Chris had been the one that we were most nervous about. He had been the one
who interrogated me when I had come for Lance that one day. He was also the
one who had thrown my phone number out the bus window. He was the one whom
I thought would be the hurdle, the one who would reject Lance flat
out. Instead, he took both of us by surprise, by walking over and giving
Lance a hug.

I could see the bewildered expression on Lance's face as Chris hugged him
for a long time. So long, that I tapped Chris on the back.

"Excuse me," I said, "that's my man there you're hugging," I told him, and
to my surprise, he let out a long laugh and slapped me on the back. Lance
and I looked at each other, more than confused--we were bewildered.

"Chris," Lance said. "You were the one who was so angry about me hanging
out with Stephen. You even threw his phone number out the window. So what
gives?"

Chris ducked his head in embarrassment, and shook his head. "It's a long
story, I guess. Look, Stephen--I have nothing against you. Nothing at
all. I was even surprised that I got so angry with you that day in the
hallway."

"I guess," he began, sitting back down on his chair. "that I was just
concerned that this outsider was hanging around so much with one of our
guys. We've been through so much shit these last few months, with the album
and our contract and everything, that it's hard to trust people. So when
you see someone that you just met, suddenly becoming the Siamese twin of
Lance here," he went on, motioning to him, "It's a little suspicious."

I nodded. "I think I can understand what you're saying," I said. "I just
come waltzing in out of nowhere."

Chris nodded. "Exactly. And then Lance starts missing interviews and
appointments--hell, he's our businessman. He knows everything better than
all four of us combined," Chris stated, which drew protests from Justin.

"Hey, I know what's going on!" Justin complained, looking disbelievingly at
Chris.

Joey smirked. "Yeah, Just--you really know what's going on. You're too busy
shaking your ass to every girl that you meet," Joey said slyly. Justin just
shot him a dirty look, as Chris ignored them both and went on with his
explanation.

"Its weird--for some reason, I never guessed that Scoop might be gay,
although now that I look at it, all the signs were pointing to it. It was
only when you started acting funny--during those two weeks--" he said to
Lance. "--that I thought something was wrong. You were out of it,
rehearsals, interviews--like you lost your best friend. And to tell you the
truth, I was really worried when you disappeared."

"No, you weren't--you were drunk when we came back from the club," Joey
brought up. "You were really worried the next morning, when you were hung
over," he said helpfully.

 Chris shot him a dirty look. "We all were worried, Lance. I'm just
surprised that Josh knew what was going on when the clerk handed us the
letter."

"Speaking of Josh, where did he disappear to?" Justin asked. Lance and I
looked at each other and shrugged.

"He was supposed to be here, he even came to get us," Lance said in wonder.

"And where is my cousin?" I said, suddenly remembering her. "I need to talk
to her about nearly killing me with those pills."

Just then, Justin looked as though a lightbulb should have appeared over
his head. "Hey, I remember Josh saying that he had to meet someone in the
hotel bar later on. Maybe that's where he went," he said helpfully. I
shrugged, not exactly worried. My cousin was a big girl--she could take
care of herself, I thought, as I looked at Lance. The look of immense worry
and frustration was gone from his handsome face, and a broad grin had
replaced it.

"So you guys are okay with it?" he asked happily. "Not gonna kick me out of
the group or anything like that?"

"Nah," Chris said, shaking his head, "Just promise us though that you won't
get personal in public--I don't think any of us will be too happy to see
that." Chris looked at my face carefully then.

"What happened there?" he asked, moving my chin for a closer look.

"One of your goons by the name of Josh felt that it was fit to come to my
house and slug me in the face. Seems like someone put my address in the
letter he left you guys," I said, looking at Lance with a disapproving look
on my face. Lance looked down guiltily at the carpet underneath him, as
Chris let out a slight laugh.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"Don't worry about it," I said, as Joey got off the couch and came over to
us and gave Lance a reassuring hug.

"It's alright with me," he said, "Just as long as you don't hit on me or
anything like that."

Lance laughed and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Joey--you are definitely not
my type. I don't like redheads--at least not your red" he added, before
breaking into a fit of laughter. I personally thought that Lance was so
relieved, at that moment, anything would have been funny.

"Besides," Lance continued, a smile playing on his lips. "I prefer
curly-headed blondes to redheads," he joked, looking over at Justin. Justin
didn't answer Lance's joke, instead, he was kind of in a daze, and wandered
off into the next room. Lance looked at the three of us with question marks
for eyes, but we could only shrug at Justin's strange behavior. Shaking
that off, Chris and Joey decided to go look for Josh, while Lance and I
agreed to retreat back to our room.

"Hey, you two--" We turned around, and saw Chris standing there, a
mischievous grin on his face. I rolled my eyes, knowing that the comment
about to leave his mouth would be a tawdry one.

"If you guys get down to business in there, please be a little considerate
of the rest of us, alright?" he called out, about ready to burst out
laughing. Lance just popped him the bird, as he unlocked the door and let
us into our new room. Once we were inside, and had locked the door, Lance
pushed me up against the wall and wrapped his arms around my neck.

"That went well," I whispered, before giving Lance a kiss.

"Yeah," he said, clearly surprised. "I thought that Chris would make a big
deal about it and stuff, but he was pretty cool about it." Another
kiss. "So...should we celebrate?" Lance asked me softly, his green eyes
full of arousal and hope.

I rolled my eyes in jest. "Geez, Lance--I'm not a machine," I laughed
quietly as we kissed again.

"You're not?" he asked, pretending to be disappointed. "Well, that's a let
down." We walked out to the hotel's balcony instead, which overlooked the
back of the hotel. There was a jazz trio playing romantic music, as couples
below us swayed back and forth. Lance and I stood there, his arms wrapped
around my waist as we enjoyed watching and listening to the world below us
in anonymous darkness.

He rested his chin on my shoulder, and softly kissed the back of my neck. I
shivered, not because of the cool night breeze that swept through the air,
but because of the way his lips felt against my skin. That was one feeling
that I would never get sick of, I thought as Lance's hand found its way up
the front of my shirt.

I let out a sigh, louder than I had expected it be. "Happy?" Lance murmured
as he began to rub my stomach.

"Definitely...I'm really glad that I came here with you," I said, closing
my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy his caresses. Suddenly, he let out a
chuckle.

"You're not the only one," Lance said, pointing downwards. "Look."

I opened my eyes and looked downwards onto the ground, even though I was
still a little dizzy from the medication. To my surprise, I managed to make
out Josh and Cynthia, who were wrapped in each others arms, acting as
though they only existed to one another.

"You've got to be kidding," I said, shaking my head. "Trust my cousin to go
from hating someone to falling in love at the drop of a hat."

"I don't think that's so bad," Lance murmured in my ear as I turned to face
him. "The world needs love..."

"Too true, my dear, too true," I agreed, as we stood there on the balcony
for a few more seconds. He continued rubbing my stomach his hands working
their way up my shirt. I couldn't stand it anymore, he was driving me
crazy...

"Hey," I said softly. "You know what Cynth and Josh together means?" Lance
looked at me, confused.

"What?"

"That means my favorite 'N Sync member isn't available anymore," I
pouted. "What am I gonna do now?" I asked in despair, leaning over to
passionately kiss Lance, not only letting him know I was teasing, but to
let him know that I wanted him.

"Maybe I can change your mind," Lance whispered, getting my change of
mood. "Come on, I still wanna get you while you're a little doped up
there."

"Taking advantage of me, Mr. Bass?" I asked him, as he pulled me back into
the room and gently threw me onto the bed. He fell next to me, rolling over
onto his side and stared at me for a moment. For one brief second, I felt
like a giddy-in-love-teenager, who couldn't control his emotions. Lance
leaned down and kissed me, and I never wanted the moment to end.

"Definitely," he finally answered, meeting my lips once more.


I hope to get the next installement out as soon as I can! I make no
promises, but it shuld be out in the next day or so (cross your fingers!!)
Thanks for reading!--Gabriella.

sweetheart_stories@hotmail.com