Date: Sat, 29 Dec 2001 17:31:53 -0500
From: Sweet Music <sweet_music5@hotmail.com>
Subject: Things Don't Always Turn Out That Way/Part 1

Okey Dokey, Here we go with the not so fun disclaimer thingy: I do not know
Nsync. Whether or not Justin and/or Lance are gay really is none of my
business. But for now, I can pretend that they are because I'm a writer and
that's what I do. Secondly, if you are under 18 and/or materials such as
these are illegal in your area go away or just don't get caught. :) Now,
lastly, please don't steal my stories. I've worked hard on this. Now, the
fun stuff.

Things Don't Always Turn Out That Way
By Pandora

	I swear I told him no more. But still, I hear someone slide the key
in the hole and push open the door to my hotel room. I told him tonight, no
more. I was sick of being hurt. The room is so silent you can almost hear
him walk across the thick plush carpet.  Maybe its not him, maybe its one
of the other guys come into my room to talk. It could be. They do that from
time to time.  So maybe if I lie here and tell myself I don't recognize the
sound of his walk and the steadiness of his breathing, it won't be
him. It'll be JC or even Chris. Hell, maybe its Joey. But they would have
said something by now. Even if it was something as simple as "hey man, you
awake?" They would have said something. But I'm pretending I don't notice
that. Because if I notice that it really will be him.
	I can't hear him walking anymore, but I still hear his even
breathing. He's standing on the other side of the bed and my back is to
him. I can feel him staring at me and almost hear him lick his lips and
sigh as if he really wants to say something. But I'm asleep. So he won't
say anything. Maybe he'll just leave. Maybe he'll realize I was serious
this time. And he can just go back to her. Back where he belongs. He's in
love with her, not me. He even told me that. He told me he could never feel
that way about another man. Oh, God forbid. I don't love him. No, not at
all.  Even if my heart and mind both tell me different, I don't love
him. Of course not. Now I'm noticing how hard it is to lie to yourself. But
I'm sleeping, and he's still standing there, staring at me.
	Maybe he really will go away. Maybe his common sense will kick in
and something in that little brain of his will tell him I wasn't kidding. I
don't want him tonight. Or tomorrow night. I know I'll always have his
body. Always. He told me that too. But even if the sex is great and I love
that Adonis-like body, I want something more. Something like what he gives
her. His heart. That's what I want. No matter how hard I try to convince
myself otherwise, he already has mine. And I want it back. I want to quit
pining over him and I want to quit wishing that he'd stay with me. But
that's just ridiculous. He'll always go back to her. He loves her. Her, not
me. I'm being melodramatic. Lets be a man about this shall we. Honestly, I
want him to fuck me again more then I want his heart. Even if that really
isn't true, it sounded great.
	But I know he's not going to go away because I feel him crawl into
bed next to me. Why did he have to do that? Couldn't he just stay standing
there, staring at me? No, of course not. He always has to try and get what
he wants. I know what he wants. And its going to be damn hard to convince
myself that I don't want that too.
	I'm still pretending to be asleep, so maybe there's still hope that
he'll go away and leave me alone, again, like he always does.
	His arms slide around my waist and he spoons against me. He had to
do that.  His hands meet at my stomach and he spreads his fingers out over
my lower torso as if to tell me that I'm his, as dumb as that sounds. I'm
still trying to pretend that I'm asleep, but he starts to kiss the back of
my neck, nipping at my ear every so often. I shiver involuntary. Now he
knows I'm not asleep
	"Lance..." He whispers, almost like a moan, in my ear.
	I sigh, "What do you want, Justin?" As if the answer's not obvious.
	"You." He whispers huskily. I know that already. I can feel
it. Pressing into my ass.
	He runs one hand up and down my body, and almost instantly my body
reacts to his touches and kisses. And I know, without looking, that he's
grinning like a cheshire cat, because he knows what he's doing to me.
	"Lance, please look at me." He mumbles seductively into my neck.
	I sigh again. "Justin..." My voice sounds whinier then I intended
it to.  But he takes it as an invitation and not a warning to back off. He
rolls me onto my back and rests himself on his elbow so he can look at
me. His eyes burn into my own, and I can't stand to see the burning lust in
those deep sapphire pools so I look away. He kisses my forehead, and my
cheeks, and as his lips hover over my own I quickly turn my head. That took
al the self control I had.
	Now he sighs, "Please, Lance, I need you." He always says that. He
doesn't really mean it, he's just horny, and if I won't put out, she
will. He can ALWAYS go back to her. In the end he always does. But the way
he said it, the way there was almost a touch of love in his voice, makes me
almost want to cry. So when he rests his hand on the side of my face and
turns my head back toward him, I don't resist. And this time I don't resist
his lips. I've always loved his kisses.
  No matter how urgent or horny he may be, his kisses are still soft and
gentle. Like velvet on velvet. He always tastes so sweet like you could
just eat him up. I don't resist his tongue either, as it slides across my
closed lips and gently parts them. Though his kiss is still soft, his
tongue is insistent and commanding. And now I'm just putty in his
hands. His hands roam my body, up and down the sides of my bare chest,
across the waistband of my boxers. Now I have no self control. I couldn't
resist him if I wanted to. But the he's causing my body to react, I don't
want to.
	With his lips still pressed possessively to mine, his roaming hand
cups the growing erection in my boxers. My heart is screaming at me to
stop. That this will only cause me more pain and heartache.  My mind is
telling me to just give in. Either he'll do it or I'll do it; either way
it'll be done.
	He pulls his lips from mine and stares into my eyes. I know he
wants to say sorry. His mouth even forms the words, but I simply shake my
head. He knows now that I'm not going to resist him, even though I should,
just to save what's left of my heart for someone who really can love me
"like that." So I look away. At the wall, the ceiling, the TV, anywhere but
those eyes.
	  I swear I never felt him move, but somehow he nestled himself
between my legs and slid my boxers off my body and onto the floor. I didn't
even realize it until I felt warm lips engulf the throbbing head of my
cock. I try so hard not to moan, but his lips slide farther down my
engorged member and the warm confines of his mouth intensify the pleasure
and I can't help but moan. Now he slowly withdraws before taking it all in
again, to the base, doing wicked things with his tongue, playing with my
balls, fingering my hole; how am I suppose to resist this?
	Somewhere I lost myself in the pleasure. He's so good at this, I
wonder if she knows that.  He hums softly in the back of his throat and I
arch my back to him. I'm so close, I can feel it. He can take me to the
edge of indescribable pleasure and throw me over. I give him no warning
before I scream in delight and come into his mouth. He takes in every bit
of it.
	Now I'm trying to come down from my high, and trying to convince
myself again that I don't want him. My heart is screaming at me again,
telling me what an idiot I am for letting him do this to me. I should have
resisted those lips, that touch, those hands, that voice.
	I'm lost deep in thought again, but I'm wrenched back into reality
when he plunges his dick deep into me. He fills me up, completes me. And I
hate him for it.
	I feel myself harden again as he thrusts slowly in and out of me,
every now and then leaning to kiss my face. His hand wraps around my now
rock hard member and strokes it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. He
gasps my name as his thrusts increase, so he's slamming harder and faster
into my ass.
	I feel myself come close to the edge for the second time tonight
and I know he's almost there as well. The feeling starts at my toes and
rushes up through my spine curling its way back down my body before
settling in my groin in an intense, indescribable ray of pleasure. At that
moment I release my juices onto both our stomachs and Justin releases into
me, screaming out my name, taking us both over the edge together.
	He collapses on top of me, gasping for breath. Neither of us move
to clean ourselves up. He simply rests his head on my shoulder and wraps
his arms around me. Within minutes he's asleep. I sigh and wrap my arms
around him. At least tonight he's staying with me and not going back to
her. But tomorrow I'll tell him. I'll tell him I'm serious this time. No
more. And he'll be back tomorrow night.  And he'll still love her, and not
me. And I'll never get over him. Or, maybe, he'll tell me tomorrow that he
really does love me and not her. And that he always has. And tomorrow we'll
start our new life, together. But that'll never happen. Because, things
don't always turn out that way.

____________________________________________________________________________

Ok, this is the first time I've ever let anyone read something like this
that I've written. I'm really shy about letting people read my work. I'm
working on a follow up to this story though. Please, email me and tell me
what you thought. I can handle criticism. But be gentle.
sweet_music5@hotmail.com

Thanks for reading :)
Pandora