Twenty-Eight 

Lance felt very self-conscious as he rang the doorbell of Justin's house. A pretty woman opened the door. She immediately hugged him. “You must be Lance. I'm Lynn, Justin's mom. I'm so glad you could come.”

“I'm so sorry it's so late,” Lance said. “I didn't expect Justin to invite me and…”

“You shush. It's Christmas. Like anyone really wants to go to sleep and end this magical day,” Lynn said. “Put your suitcase in the corner. Are you hungry?” Lynn asked over her shoulder as she walked down the hall.

“Well…I…” Actually, Lance was starving. “I don't want to put you out.”

“You're not. Stop talking like that,” she scolded. Her slippers slapped on the linoleum as she went to the refrigerator. “I have ham or chicken. Would you like a sandwich?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Lance said, finally giving in. “That would be great.”

“Sit down,” Lynn ordered. Lance sat. She made him a huge Dagwood sandwich of ham AND chicken, adding potato chips to the plate. She plunked down a glass of milk, then sat down across from him.

“Thank you,” Lance said, tearing into the sandwich.

“So…you're Lance,” Lynn said. “Justin talks about you ALL the time.”

Lance blushed around his food. “Really?” He mumbled.

“Yes. To hear him talk, you're perfect. Smart, ambitious, hard-working, attractive…”

Lance's pink cheeks turned red. “Attractive?”

“Well, he didn't SAY that, but as much as he talked about you, I know he thought you were something special.” Lynn's eyes twinkled.

“Thank you,” Lance said, not knowing what else to say.

He finished his sandwich as Lynn chatted about this and that. A yawn cracked his head in two. “You shouldn't go right to bed after eating like that, but you look like you're about to fall asleep into your milk,” Lynn declared. “Let's get you up to bed.”

Lance grabbed his suitcase and followed Lynn up the steps. “Justin sleeps right next door,” she told him, opening the door to a guest room. Lance tried not to wonder if Justin slept naked. “You sleep in tomorrow, okay? Problems always look better in the morning.”

“Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am,” Lance said tiredly.

“You're a good boy.” Lynn kissed Lance's cheek, then closed the door. 

Lance opened one eye and looked at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost noon. He groaned and stretched, realizing that he hadn't even bothered to change out of his clothes. He felt grimy and weary and just plain worn out. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes. A pile on the floor caught his eye.

Lance picked up the note and read it aloud. “The bathroom's down the hall. Here are towels. I'll be downstairs. Justin.”

Lance felt a bit better after his shower. He put on a clean pair of jeans and a sweater and slowly went downstairs. Justin was in the family room, right off the hallway. He was reading a magazine and humming along with the radio. “Nice tree,” Lance said softly, staring at the beautiful evergreen in the corner.

“I thought so, too, until I had to help Paul carry it in here,” Justin said, grinning. He stood. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Lance allowed Justin to hug him, blissfully losing himself in the scent of Justin's cologne for a brief second.

“Are you hungry?” Justin asked. “We could go for pizza.”

Lance laughed as he pulled back. “You and your mom…both trying to fatten me up.”

“You're perfect just the way you are,” Justin said, and actually blushed. 

“So, your mom said, uh, you talk about me?” Lance asked as they carried their pizza to a table in the crowded Pizza Hut.

“Sure. I talk about you and Joe and JC and…” Justin began, and watched Lance's face fall slightly. “I do. I talk about you a lot. I just…I admire you, Lance. You've been through a lot, with your family and all, yet you're still strong.”

“I'm not strong,” Lance mumbled.

“What, just because some asshole used you and made you afraid of sex?” Justin said in a low voice. “That means shit.”

“I'm not AFRAID of it,” Lance said angrily. “I'm not sure what I am, but I'm NOT afraid.”

“Okay okay, you're not afraid,” Justin said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I bury myself in my work and the frat. I don't have a boyfriend.”

“I don't have one either,” Justin pointed out. “And I bury myself in basketball.”

“You're different. You're like this golden person. You and Nick. Everyone flocks around you. Look at what AJ did…gave up everything just to date Nick. Nick's special. YOU'RE special.” Lance stopped babbling and stared at his pizza.

Justin licked tomato sauce from his fingers. “Stop it, Lance. You're being a jerk. Why won't you just let me like you?”

“Because it scares me,” Lance finally admitted. “I like you, too, Justin. I feel things for you that I've never really felt before. I've treated you like crap, and you still hang around.”

“First and foremost, I'm your friend, Lance. Everything else…” Justin waved a hand in the air. “The fact that I think you're sex on two legs is just an added bonus.”

“Justin!” Lance gasped. Justin laughed out loud.  

Lance spent a week at Justin's house, just hanging out and spending time NOT thinking about his family. Everything he and Justin did was platonic, but Justin's comment about him being “sex on two legs” was never out of his mind. On the night before Lance was planning on returning home, Justin sat in the guest room, watching Lance pack. “You'll be okay at home?” Justin asked. “I mean, Mom loves you. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Nah…I have some things I need to do. I gotta start being this strong brave person you think I am,” Lance said, smiling. “Do you think it's okay if I use the phone for a long distance call? I have my calling card with me.”

“Don't worry about it. Just make your call,” Justin said, standing up. “I'll let you get done here. Thanks for coming, Lance. It's been fun. And I'm sorry if I freaked you out. I'm just as happy being friends with you if you don't want more.”

“It's not that, Justin,” Lance insisted. “It's…more than that.”

“Whatever,” Justin said with a smile. Lance stepped in front of him and hugged him.

“Thank you for everything,” Lance said, holding him tight. 

Twenty-Nine