I’ll Be Home For Christmas

By:  Lara

LANCE

I'll have a blue Christmas without you…I'll be so blue thinking about you…decorations of red on a green Christmas tree won't be the same if you're not here with me… 
 

“You're kidding me, right?” Lance sat on the bed and stared at Justin. Justin tried to avoid looking at him by taking a sudden interest in the number of socks in his drawer. “You're going. To Europe. Over Christmas.”

“Uh, yeah.” Justin dug through the drawer. “I used to have a pair of blue socks.”

“Fuck your blue socks.” Lance blinked back tears. Lance didn't cry in front of anyone. Not even Justin. “You couldn't postpone this?”

“Lance, I need to make an appearance there,” Justin protested weakly.

“No, you don't. Your album is number two in the country.” Lance stood. “I'm going home.” Lance left Justin's bedroom without another word.

“Lance!” Justin called helplessly. He looked at the bed where Lance had been sitting. Crumpled in a pile was some sort of catalogue. Justin opened it and smoothed out the wrinkles. It was an advertisement for a local nursery. Lance had paper clipped the page with the biggest, most beautiful Christmas trees. Justin sighed and closed his eyes. 

And when the blue snowflakes start falling…and when those blue memories start calling…you'll be doing alright with your Christmas of white…but I'll have a blue, blue Christmas… 

Lance sighed as he let himself in his house. He should have known that Justin's career would come before their relationship, even though Justin had sworn up and down that Christmas would be something special this year. They'd go to the cabin they had bought together, away from Florida, away from everything, and just enjoy the holiday together. But now Justin would be far away, and Lance would be alone. He still planned on being at the cabin. They might actually get snow at the cabin, and it was somewhere that they hadn't spent a lot of time yet. He wouldn't constantly be reminded of Justin and his promises.

Justin had promised way back at the beginning, of both the group AND their involvement with each other, that nothing could take preference over what they had. What they had was special. Lance had believed him. He knew that it was important for Justin to promote his album. He was behind Justin 100% when it came to the solo project. He was so damn proud he could scream it from the rooftops. But he COULDN'T scream it from the rooftops. Justin had to say he was single. Justin had to cry it to Barbara Walters. No one could know about Lance.

Lance packed a duffel and a suitcase, ignoring the tears that fell onto his clothes.  

JUSTIN

I'll be home for Christmas…you can plan on me…please have snow and mistletoe…and presents on the tree… 

 

Justin shoved bags into his SUV. “I know. I can't do it…I need Christmas to myself.” Justin slammed the door and went to make sure he had locked his house and set the security system. “Can't you get it? Do YOU have Christmas with YOUR family? I thought so. I have someone I need to be with. This person means the WORLD to me, and I'll lose them if…” Justin tried not to think about it. “Screw it, okay? I'm not going. Sue me, do whatever. I'll be out of touch for a week. Deal with it.” Justin hung up the cellphone and tossed it onto the passenger seat of his vehicle.

Justin changed the radio station as he pulled onto the highway, then smiled. He had a picture of NSYNC right by the dial of the radio, but he always looked at the two people on the left. It was an early picture, and a boy growing into his body and a boy with horrible bottle-blond hair smiled at each other, their arms around each other's waists. He had to get to Lance. Every ounce of success he had was worth nothing without the one person who had made him believe that anything was possible. 

Christmas Eve will find me…where the lovelight beams…I'll be home for Christmas…if only in my dreams… 

Justin got out of the SUV and turned on the flashlight. He had parked a few yards down from the cabin. Lance slept like the dead, but he didn't want to take a chance. Justin quietly unlocked the front door and opened it. The two large main rooms were empty and immaculate. Justin started to make the turn towards the bedroom, but a small sparkle caught in the flashlight and made him stop. He stared and a lump formed in his throat. A beautiful Christmas tree stood in the corner, fully decorated. Other decorations soon materialized in the beam of the flashlight, and his mouth fell open. Even though he was going to be alone, Lance had created the traditional Christmas home that was a steadfast part of the holidays for both him AND Justin. Justin angrily wiped at the tears that streamed down his cheeks. Nothing was more important than this. He peeked in to see that Lance was sleeping, then went back to slowly pull the SUV up in front of the house. 

Lance padded out to the small kitchen. He wore a pair of Justin's big fuzzy slippers; a secret that Lance had promised upon threat of death never to divulge. He didn't need anyone to know that he loved the slippers as well, even if they were a little big and he kept tripping over them.

He hummed as he started the coffeepot. Their tiny cabin was wired with a satellite, and he was sure that the interview with Justin would soon be on BBC America. He went to the living room to turn on the television and froze. A huge pile of presents was under the Christmas tree. Presents that he KNEW he hadn't put there before he had gone to bed.

“What…”

“Don't you know? Santa always comes to good little boys on Christmas Eve,” a voice behind him said. Lance slowly turned around. Justin stood near the entrance to the guest bedroom, smiling at Lance. He wore a red and white Santa Claus cap. “You forgot something, though.”

“What?” Lance was unable to speak louder than a whisper.

“Mistletoe.” Justin held a sprig of the plant in his hand. “Merry Christmas.” He dangled the plant over Lance's head.

“But you're not here. You're in Europe.”

“No.” Justin kissed Lance lightly. “I'm here.” He kissed him again. “With you.” Another kiss, longer this time.

“Oh, my God,” Lance whispered, hugging Justin.

“I'd give up every chance of ever being talked about in this industry again, if you wanted me to,” Justin promised. Lance just hugged him.

“You must've driven here in the dead of night,” Lance said finally.

“Yeah, I did. But I'm here. And is that coffee?” Justin sniffed appreciatively.

“Yes. I'll get you some.” Lance gave Justin a long kiss, then hurried into the kitchen. Justin smiled at the fuzzy slippers, then curled up on the sofa.

Lance came back with two mugs of coffee. He set them down on the fireplace mantel when he saw that Justin was fast asleep. He covered Justin with a blanket, then curled up around him, watching the snow fall outside.

The End

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