Gone

By: Lara

Lance stood at the huge windows that overlooked the swimming pool in his backyard. The rain fell in sheets, crashing against the water in the pool, the wind creating waves that slapped against the sides. Lance sighed as the lightning flickered into the dark room. The thunderstorm was beautiful, and in other times, on other nights, he would have been out in it, running around madly, falling on his ass in the mud. But not tonight. Tonight he was alone. Just Lance and the thunderstorm, and the three bottles of whiskey on his small table. One and a half bottles were already empty, and Lance knew he'd be seeing pink fuzzy-tailed bunnies before long, but he didn't care. It helped. Justin was gone and nothing would bring him back. Lance had tried it all. Cried, begged, cried some more. Nothing. Justin gave him the stony look and he was gone. All because Lance was too afraid to tell the truth.

"So...what's next?" Joey asked, looking around. Lance and Justin sat on one side of the table, Chris and Joey each at an end, and JC and three of the men from management on the fourth side. Chris got up and poured himself a cup of coffee, looking around the conference room as he sipped at it.

"I don't think we have anything else," one of the men said. "Thanks for your time, guys."

"No problem," JC said, standing. Hands were shaken and the three men left.

Chris sat back down on a chair, whirling it around in circles. He giggled as he stopped, standing up and weaving around.

"You look like you're doing the chicken dance," JC said, laughing.

Chris laughed harder and flopped back onto his chair. "Sorry...needed that after this stuffed shirt meeting." His brown eyes finally focused on Lance. "So."

"So..." Lance waved his hand in the air. "So what?"

"So...anything you feel the need to tell us?"

"Tell who?" Lance asked nervously. He felt Justin squeeze his knee under the table.

"Us. Me and, oh, JC, and...um...Joey, here." He clapped Joey on the back.

Chris took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving Lance. "Anything about...a relationship?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lance said firmly, and he felt Justin pull his hand away. In fact, he felt Justin shrink back into the seat, seeming to shrink in size right before their eyes. He couldn't look at Justin.

Chris looked at Justin, however. "How about you?"

"I'm not in a relationship," Justin replied. "How about you, Chris?"

"This isn't about me," Chris insisted, but Justin was already standing up.

"We done here?" Justin asked. JC nodded and Justin darted out of the room.

"Fuck," Lance mumbled under his breath, wanting to crawl in a hole and die.

When he returned to his house, he saw Justin's car in the driveway. He sighed and went into the house. Justin had a key. Justin practically lived there. He found Justin in the bedroom, throwing some things into a box.

"Hi," Lance said softly.

"Hello." Justin glanced up, then continued to pack.

"Going somewhere?" Lance asked lightly.

"Home. Where I belong." Justin stopped and looked at Lance. "I wasn't lying to Chris. I'm not in a relationship. Not anymore."

"Justin," Lance began.

"No, Lance. You coulda said it. You coulda said, yeah, Chris, I'm in love with Justin and he loves me. We have a great time together. I ground him and he makes me have fun and relax. We have earth-shattering sex together. But no, Lance, you lied and denied it. Denied ME."

"Justin, I wasn't...I can't..."

"I've heard it all before, Lance. How you're a good Baptist boy and you could never come out to your family. I understand that, and I know that it probably will never happen. But the guys? JC, Joey, Chris? They're our OTHER family...and you could have done it." Justin closed the flaps on the box. "Bye, Lance."

A song stuck in Lance's head on automatic replay. Some 80s song that was redone by Michael Bolton, since he wrote it anyway. "Tell me how am I supposed to live without you...now that I've been loving you so long..." Lance sang softly. "How am I supposed to live without you...and how am I supposed to carry on..." Lance crumpled onto the floor by the window, leaning his head on the glass. "When all that I've been living for...is gone..."

"Lance. Lance."

"Stop shaking me...head hurts..." Lance mumbled, blinking against the morning sun. "Go 'way."

"God, Lance, you smell like a bar drove in here and ran over you five or six times," Chris said, wrinkling his nose. "Let's get you into the shower."

"God...my head..." Lance slowly stood up. "What are you doing here?"

"I came by to help Justin load up his treadmill. He said you have it here?"

"Yeah," Lance said faintly. "I...uh...borrowed it." Another lie. "He's here?"

"Nah...he's in the car," Chris said softly. "He didn't wanna come in. He said that I should come in and unlock the door and he'd meet me around back." Chris steadied Lance and took a good look at him. "How much did youdrink?"

"I dunno," Lance mumbled, pointing to the two completely empty bottles that rolled on the floor. "And there's another one...somewhere..." he vaguely pointed around.

"Jesus, Lance...what made you drink like that?" Chris whispered.

"I miss him," Lance said, and he looked so sad that Chris hugged him.

"Who?"

"Justin," Lance sighed, welcoming the embrace of a good friend. "I lied...and he hates me...and he should. I'm such a fucking coward."

"You lied about what?" Chris pulled back, holding Lance still in front of him.

"Us," Lance whispered. He took a deep breath and looked Chris in the eye. "I'm gay. I'm gay and I love Justin. I'm IN love with Justin...and I should have told you guys that ages ago. I was lying to protect myself...and in doing that I lost the only thing that fucking matters in this puppet show of a life."

"You and Justin?" Chris blinked. "I guessed maybe but I didn't know it was a...well...relationship. I thought you two were just playing around."

"It was never playing around," Lance said loudly, then winced. "It was always more. At least to me. And he wanted me to tell you guys...and I couldn't. Because I'm a coward. But it was always more."

"It was always more to me, too," a voice said from the doorway.

"Justin," Lance said weakly.

"I wondered what was taking Chris so long." Justin walked towards them.

"You look like shit, Lance."

"Thank you," Lance said, trying not to look at Justin with eyes full of love and yearning. He knew he was failing.

"I'm gonna...uh...yeah..." Chris motioned towards the door, then ran out of the house. Justin looked at Lance for a long moment.

"Didn't you tell me once that getting drunk doesn't solve your problems, just adds a headache to the mix?" Justin asked softly. Lance nodded slowly.

"Apparently I should listen to my own advice."

Justin sighed. "Why, Lance?"

"Because I knew I was wrong...and that my stupid pride lost you. I hate being without you, Justin, and it's been like two freaking days. Just two days and being without you is killing me." Lance looked at Justin's shoes. "I told myself I wouldn't beg, but I'll tell you this one thing. If you give me another chance, I'll tell anyone you want. Even my mother. Just give me a chance."

"Oh, Lance." Justin pulled him into a hug and Lance snuggled against him, loving the familiar feel of Justin's arms around him. "You don't have to do that."

"I will, though, if you want."

"I just don't want you to be ashamed of us," Justin said softly.

"I won't be. Not anymore. I promise."

Justin smiled and gave Lance a soft kiss. "Okay...um, first of all, I don't think I'm old enough to be seeing that," Chris called from the doorway. "Secondly, euww, Justin, how can you kiss him when he tastes like the whole top shelf at the liquor store?"

Lance giggled softly. "And you wondered why I didn't want to tell anyone?" Justin smiled and kissed him again.

The End

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