Well, here it is, everyone. The final chapter. The end of the actual story arc. Yes, there will be an epilogue, simply to tie up loose ends, but you can all consider this the end of our strange little journey. Thank you to everyone who wrote to me about "Petticoat" and I hope this part lives up to your expectations.
The standard disclaimer applies. I know nothing, yadda, yadda, yadda. Also, I was a horrid bad author yesterday, and forgot to mention that the title in chapter 12 "I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl" was from the Red Hot Chilli Pepper's "Scar Tissue". Today's title is from Filter's "Miss Blue". Take care, and enjoy. :o)
Remembering Petticoat Lane Chapter 13: "When do you think I'll be okay?"
Lance and the group may have been on the right path to recovery, but that didn't always mean that the road would be an easy one. The sessions with Kathleen, despite the breakthroughs and "improvements" that were occuring, it felt like nothing was happening, like nothing was getting better. Lance still had major self destructive urges, only instead of acting on the urge to hurt himself or to seek oblivion through drugs and/or alcohol, he sought out JC. Sometimes they would just curl together on the couch and JC would whisper and sooth Lance until all of the tension would leave him. Sometimes, though, it was too violent, and JC would push Lance until he blew up. This very moment was one of those times, and Lance could feel the pressure buzzing inside him. It was there constantly these days, something was wating to happen, but he didn't know what. He still had that out-of-control spinning sensation, only it was constantly getting worse.
"Come on, Lance. Come on, Pretty boy, tell me what you really think!" The words were said with just enough of a snarl to them to make Lance go off.
"I hate this! I hate all of this shit that I'm going through now! I hate the goddamn pop music industry, because it forced me into the position I'm in now! I hate having to act shy and quiet, I hate Lou Perlman, ands I hate this goddamn therapy! I feel like nothing is working, but something inside me is getting ready to break and I hate that I can't control it. I hate it! I -hate- it!" Lance had been screaming so loud that his voice felt raw, and his last words were still echoing in the house. Lance's whole posture softened after the outburst, and he walked over to JC. Josh said nothing, but just enveloped Lance in a hug. "I hate this, Josh, but I love you."
"I love you, too, James." JC was rocking them back and forth just slightly, just enough to be calming. "Do you want me to go order a pizza for dinner?"
"Sure, that would be great."
"Okay, then, hon." Josh kissed Lance's forehead, and then let go of him, and went off to locate a phone book and a phone (both very useful pizza-ordering tools). Lance contented himself to looking out the window. The sky was grey, and brewing, like it had been the past few days. The whole town was hoping for rain, but the clouds above just seemed to be a brutal tease, a promise that something should happen when in reality nothing was. Lance moved over to the sliding glass door that led to the pool's cool decking. He slid it open softly and went outside. He spent a few minutes lingering by the pool in his bare feet. Cool decking was a wonderful poolside invention that kept the deck around the pool cool enough to walk on, even in the dead of the summer heat. It wasn't the hottest period of time in Florida, but the looming clouds had brought the famous Florida humidity back with them. Instead of being a relatively dry heat that one could adjust to, it was muggy out, and the heat would stick on your skin, leaving you feeling damp in the worst way. Lance resisted the urge to go back inside, and instead traveled out of the screened in porch into his back yard. The grass was pointy and dry beneath his feet, and it still made that sick crackling noise every time he moved. It was hard and sharp-edged, and his feet flet like they were being stabbed by a million little knives at once.
A million little knifes. That was how he had felt for so long, like a million little knives were stabbing at him, and he couldn't escape them. So much of this last chapter of his life had been filled with pain and betrayal. He had been raised thinking that everyone was essentually good, but his life had proven that to be false. Lou Perlman was not intrinsically good. Lou Perlman had hurt him, horribly, and a good part of him thought that he would never be okay.
Never be okay. Never was such a long, long time, though. And really.. how far was he from okay now? He had good, supportive friends who had taken time out of a busy career to come back to Orlando and help him through this past junk. His family... well, that was a sore spot right now. his mother had called him just that night, and while he didn't forgive her, he still did love her. He had talked with his father, who seemed genuinely sorry for what had been going on, and seemed to be really supportive. It wasn't like Lance had thought it was, in reality his father really -had- had to stay at home because of business, and he had wanted to be there with Lance, to support him. Lance's dad had even gone ahead and made plans to visit Lance within the next month, without his mother along.
Thunder clapped just briefly across the sky, and Lance, who had been immersed in his thoughts, realized that the impossible was actually happening. It was raining: pouring, in fact. The rain was soaking his clothing, making it stick to him. It wasn't a cold rain, but it was cooler than the still air, and it felt good. Lance put his arms up, parallel to the ground but reaching out in either direction, and looked up, letting the rain hit his face dead on.
It was there, in the life-bringing rain and facing the fact that his life was beginning to pull back together, that Lance realized what it was that was blocking his progress. He hadn't thought he would be okay. He had never thought that he could make it through this, and yet here he was. He was improving, he was recovering, like the grass and the shrubs would recover given the rain. He felt, suddenly, like he was being born again in a better, stronger form. Reaching his arms out even further, he spun around and yelled at the top of his lungs. This was a celebratory yell, though. This was the type of yell that an Olympic Gold Medalist would make before he took the podium for the ceremony. This was Lance's victory.
After the yell had finished ringing out, Lance noticed slight movement from the direction of the porch. Josh was perched in the outside doorway, looking at Lance with an amused, yet somewhat incerdilous look. Lance just grinned at him, a bright relaxed smile. It was a smile that JC hadn't seen in a very long time, and it made his heart skip a beat. "What on earth are you doing out here, baby?"
"It's raining."
"I sort of noticed that part, Lance. You're soaked." The mother hen instinct in JC had taken over again, and he made his way out into the yard to join Lance. "God. Look at you, Scoop. You're going to catch a cold."
"I'm gonna be okay, JC."
It took a couple minutes for JC to understand the dual nature of Lance's words. It wasn't particularly cold out, and Lance wasn't particularly weakened right now, so no, he probably wouldn't get sick unless it was a psychosomatic illness. But.. Oh. Lance meant that he was going to be okay mentally. JC smiled at him. "Are you?"
"Yeah, I really am." It was something that Dr. Johnson and Josh had been trying to convince him of, but Lance had had a very narrow minded attitude about it. Lance had been convinced that he wasn't strong enough to get through this, that he would never make it. It seemed that James had finally come to terms with the idea that just maybe he -was- making it after all. "I'm gonna be just fine." Lance moved forward then, and caught JC's mouth. The kiss was intense, loving, and very, very passionate. It lit a million sparks inside JC's body, and he surrendered to most of them willingly. He had never seen Lance look so happy, so confident, and it thrilled him. His baby was recovering. Lance's hands were suddenly all over him, hooking under his shirt and pulling it over his head. Josh surrendered himself to the passion for just a few seconds more before it dawned on him exactly -what- was going on here, and he pulled away.
"Lance... what are we doing?"
"Well, I like to think of it as making fast, passionate love to my favorite boyband icon, but if you wanna think of it as sex on the back lawn, that's okay, too."
"But I said--"
"You said nothing until I'm okay. And I am okay, Josh."
JC bit his lip, and half-nodded. "You're sure?"
"I am positive."
"Okay." Josh didn't waste any time in moving forward, his hands tangled in Lance's shirt as he fumbled to get it off. Lance wasn't making it any easier on Josh, he kept moving in to steal kisses, or to otherwise distract JC's movements. Finally, Josh managed to get the shirt over Lance's head, and to untangle his hands from it. He tossed the shirt away, neither of them much caring where the clothing landed, so long as it didn't go over the privacy fence. Lance was going for JC's pants zipper when Josh decided that payback really -was- a bitch, and pounced him. The two tumbled to the now-wet ground in a heap of half-dressed flesh. The mirth, which would normally have tempered the passion, only served to relax Josh's qualms about the whole idea. Josh had settled himself on top of Lance, straddling him, and he leaned down over Lance to kiss him. Lance's hands went to softly hold on to Josh's side, his thumbs were stroking just enough to send shivers down JCs spine. JC's hands, in turn, wandered down Lance's chest, pausing just briefly to tease his nipples before they sought out the button fly of Lance's cargos. Lance moaned into the kiss as JC's hand made contact with his erection, and the hands that had been on JC's sides, just resting, now made to pull Josh closer. Josh followed the lead, and laid out on top of Lance. The rain was pounding hard on his back now, and it just seemed to add to the sensations that coursed through him. Soon, though, JC pulled back up, and moved his hands down to unfasten Lance's pants. He made eye contact, once, in a permission asking gesture. Lance nodded, and Josh removed both Lance's pants, and his own. There was a second of pause then. Lance sat up, and the two looked each other in the eyes. There was almost a hesitancy to it, not because they didn't want to be with the other person, but out of pure nerves. The moment ended when Lance took charge and pulled JC back on top of him. Lance rolled over, so that he was on top, and he kissed JC's mouth with as much passion as a million Don Juan's combined. JC moaned and wrapped an arm around Lance, pulling him down close. Lance broke the kiss, gave light kisses to JC's forehead and cheeks before settling for kissing and sucking at JC's neck. Every kiss and nibble Lance made sent tremors straight down to "Mr. Happy", and Josh's hand clenched on Lance's back. His other hand, the free hand, went down to lightly stroke Lance's erection. Lance moaned and then shifted, bringing their crotches into alignment, and followed up by catching Josh's mouth in a kiss. Every movement, every little shift sent tremors through their bodies, and the intensity grew and grew until finally a spark was lit.
Lance pulled away from the kiss, keeping contact, but far enough that he and JC could look at each other. The rain was pounding now, providing enough cover that even if a paparazzi had been standing a foot away, they couldn't have seen a thing. Water flowed off of Lance's face, running down the side of his face, or dripping off of his hair, which hung limp and damp down on his face. Lance now supported himself with just one arm, the other went to grasp the two erections as he whispered to JC, just loud enough for him and only him to hear. "I'm going to love you forever, Josh."
The sight alone was erotic, but the addition of the pressure and the words sent JC over the edge, sparking Lance's own climax.
As aftermath settled over them, Lance could just barely hear JC whispering back to him, "Oh god, I love you, too, Lance. Forever, baby. Forever."