Twist of Fate

**Well well, I DIDN'T fall off the face of the earth! Hehe Thanks for being patient for this chapter, while midterms and such have been railing me at school. The next one will be out much more quickly!

-Thanks go to all my idea inspirers and *proofers: Andrew, Molly, #1Matt, Atlantian, *Braan., Skiblet, and especially *Ad.! You guys rock! Thanks also to all the friends I've made! (RCJ, is it MY turn to write? My bad!)

Please remember that this story is a work of fiction, and any inference to real events or the sexuality of those involved is a bunch of poo poo. Read the age requirements posted in ch 1.

Tat's all. Any comments, please send 'em my way! Buh bye. Kaiser_goof@hotmail.com ~Jeff

Previously on Twist of Fate...

"Yes, you were a jerk. But don't worry about it. It's in the past. Nobody said this was going to be easy. I just need to know you're in this 100% along with me," Lance said. I nodded my assurance. Lance smiled slightly and reached over to wipe away a stray tear.

"Okay. Well, I guess we can head back to the hotel. Now don't think you're out of the blue, yet. I'm still kinda mad at you."

"Oh yeah? Well I'm still kinda mad at you!" I said, smiling through my red eyes and tears.

"Fair enough. There isn't a rule that says boyfriends can't be kinda mad at each other. But mad people can still talk to each other, right?"

"Oh, FOR SURE! I'd have to rewrite the rules if that was the case."

I pulled the car into gear, and drove the rest of the way to the hotel, looking FORWARD TO, not DREADING the next stage in Lance and Billy's great adventure.

• • • • • • Chapter 9

"What about you? Have you noticed it, too?" JC said.

"I don't know, dude. I think it's your imagination. We've known him too long for that! Think about who we're talking about here."

"I know, but still... maybe it IS me. It just seems a bit weird that every time he's around, Lance is alw..."

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Chris and JC were startled by the knocks on the door, and ceased their conversation as JC got up to answer the door to his room.

"Well, speak of the devil. Chris and I were just talking about you. Where have ya been, Scoop? It seems like every time I turn around, you disapp...... OH. Hey, Billy." I walked out from behind Lance's shadows to see a rather shocked but curious look on JC's face. My eyebrow cocked, but I made sure I smiled and leaned forward to shake JC's hand.

"Hey, JC. What's up?"

"Oh, nothin' much Billy. Come on in guys," JC said to us. He turned over his shoulder to speak to Chris. "Hey Chris, Lance and Billy are here." Chris was immediately on his feet and walking towards me, extending a hand to be shaken.

"What's up Billy? What's up Lance? How you guys been?" Lance and I both looked at each other, and obviously decided to extract our recent verbal brawl from the answer to that question.

"I'm fine." "Cool." "Doin' good." These were the patented responses from both of us. A strange silence fell over the room, and I felt that something wasn't right. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but it was weird. Chris decided to speak up and break the silence.

"Well, cool. What'd you guys do last night?" It was a fair question, but the answer was sure to be interesting. Instead of sticking my foot in my mouth by trying to answer it, I glanced at Lance, and then began memorizing a spot on the carpet while Lance went off.

"Oh, it was great! We listened to music all night, and checked out all the 'Nsync fan sites on the Internet. There's some pretty good stuff out there, but some scary stuff, too. I was going to come back, but it was pretty late, so I just crashed."

"Sounds fair," JC said with the slightest inkling of insincerity. "Well Lance, are you ready to go tomorrow?" My eyes shot up to see Lance, and he swallowed before he answered.

"Dude, don't be pushing me! We've still got the whole day, you party pooper. Let's have fun while we're still here!" Lance managed to joke as he punched JC in the shoulder, trying to alleviate the tension that had built in the room. "Besides, I'm a GUY. It'll take me 4 minutes to pack!" We all laughed at the truth behind his statement. Ah yes, the benefits of the Y-chromosome. If only someone could fix that whole balding thing...

"All right, man-you've really asked for it this time!" We all turned to the door as someone walked in and addressed JC. It was Justin, and he was wearing a blue North Carolina jersey and matching shorts, with a pair of white tennis shoes. Under his left arm, he held a basketball. The boy looked like he meant BUSINESS. JC shook his head and answered.

"Don't you ever learn? I spanked you last night in pool, but I guess that's not a good enough lesson for you, is it?"

"You know what, it's go-time now. Double or nothin'. Same wager. You and me, one-on-one. Right now." Chris, Lance, and I smiled at this hilarious display of testosterone. I guess these two went back and forth eternally, and it was usually the loser that challenged the victor of the previous competition.

"You're on, Curly. Better get your ATM card. You're gonna need it for a couple things today. First, you'll owe me some cash. Second, you're gunna need to find a good proctologist, because I'm gunna kick your butt!"

"Alright. 10 minutes. Downstairs on the courts. Be there." Justin reached forward and shook JC's hand, then turned and realized I was there. "Hey, Billy! What's up, pretty boy?" He reached up and slapped my face lightly, chuckled, and turned to walk out of the room. The rest of the guys weren't chuckling. They were roaring. I was doing neither. I was just turning red. However, glancing at the guys caused me to quickly lose it and I was soon laughing with the masses. Finally, we calmed down when JC went to his suitcase to grab some ball gear.

"Well, I guess they'll need a cheering squad. You guys want to go shoot some hoops?" I wanted to do anything I could to spend my last day with Lance, but I was still a bit upset at him for the whole airport thing. However, he had more reason to be mad at me. Today, Billy = jerk. I decided that a little time apart might be good for us to cool off, so I decided to answer the question.

"Sure, that'd be cool, right Billy?" I had opened my mouth to answer, but I heard Lance's voice instead of mine. Although I was a bit put out by the fact that I didn't get my way, I twisted my lips and nodded my approval.

"Sweet," Chris said. "Well, I'll catch ya down there in a few minutes." Chris began to walk out of the room towards his, indicating that we should follow suit. We did, and wound up walking over to Lance's room.

"Are you okay?" Lance asked as he closed the door to his room. I flopped on the bed, looked up at him, and shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know. How can I be okay? You're leaving tomorrow." Lance quickly came over to the bed and sat down, reaching to comfort me. However, I unconsciously leaned away from him, and Lance got the hint. He frowned, but he knew it would take a little time before we'd get over our argument. "We need to talk business. You said you had this grand plan to make everything better... Do ya... well, want to tell me about it?" I asked, hoping Lance had 'the answer'. He sat and stared for a moment, glanced down at his hands, then spoke up.

"I've got a few things in the works... But I don't want to spoil anything. I'd hate to get both yours and my hopes up, and then find out the plans won't work. I can't tell you what I'm doing, but I want you to trust me that I AM working on it." I looked up into his eyes and could see the sincerity. Man, if I was going to trust this guy, it was going to have to be now. I took a deep breath and said,

"Lance... As much as I don't want to do this, I TRUST you. A lot of people have let me down in the past, and this is so hard for me. SO hard! But like you said, we need to take this one day at a time. I trust you." I could feel another touch of anger fade away as I realized the things this guy must be doing for me to make our relationship continue. I sighed, looked again at Lance, and reached up to hold his face. He closed his eyes, and leaned in, nuzzling my hand.

KNOCK KNOCK. "You guys ready? They're gunna start without us!" Chris' hollers got us both to our feet, even though we knew there was a door of privacy between us. We both relaxed and chuckled when we realized the coast was clear.

"Be right there. I'm just getting some stuff on," Lance answered. He turned to me and said, "You want to play some ball?" I nodded, and Lance took the cue to grab a few pairs of shorts and some T shirts. We changed, headed down the elevator, and headed off to the hotel courts.

"Is that the best you got? Come on, my grandma can shoot better than that!"

"Oh yeah? Well, your grandma looks more like my GRANDPA with that moustache of hers!"

"Dude, don't go there!"

Hearing JC and Justin go back and forth while shooting hoops was probably the most entertaining aspect of our time downstairs. Those two had started their little testosterone match on one court, while Lance, Chris, and I played a bit of a tamer game on an adjacent court. I was having a blast, and I was just trying to get this whole headache situation out of my mind. The distraction was helping. We had been playing for about 20 minutes, when a new visitor came onto the scene.

"Yo, Pete!" JC yelled. We all glanced over saw Peter coming over to the basketball courts. He was wearing tennis shoes, basketball shorts, a loose T shirt, and an Atlanta Braves ball cap. Peter was about 6 feet tall, had brown hair and brown eyes, and seemed to be in pretty good health. I couldn't tell if he worked out a lot, but whatever he DID do, it kept him trim and cut. He didn't have a moustache or beard or anything, but I could tell he was enjoying the vacation time by the looks of the stubble on his face. I didn't know how old he was, but he couldn't have been too many years older than the guys. I had to do a double-take because the few times I'd seen him, he was wearing slacks and either a polo or a dress shirt and tie. I guess he was just one of the guys.

"Hey Josh. Hey guys. I got your message on my phone. Anyone want to play some ball?" Peter said as he started stretching his legs out.

"Great. How about 3-on-3? You guys game?" The three of us nodded, and we quickly paired off into two teams-Chris, Peter, and myself against Lance, Justin, and JC. We were just about to start playing when Peter came up to me and shook my hand.

"Hey Billy, it's good to see you again! How's everything with you?" Pete asked. He made great eye contact and had the nicest smile on his face. I stumbled, not expecting him to even remember my name, let alone greet me so warmly.

"Um, uh.. Hi Pete. I'm wonderful, thanks! Everything's just great."

"Great, well, you ready to play some ball?"

"Oh, yeah. Let's kick some butt." We gave each other props, and he walked past me to get in position. However, in the process, he reached up and gave my shoulder blades a quick pat. I didn't expect it, but I just wrote it off as a pump up for the game.

"Alright, 3-on-3, full-court press. We play clean, we call any fouls honestly, okay?" Justin said, setting up the game. Both teams nodded in agreement. Being the tallest, Peter took the center for the jump shot, and Justin challenged him on the other side. With a '3, 2, 1... GO!', the game was underway.

I had never seen such intensity in a basketball game! Not only did these guys know what they were doing, they worked the court hard. You could tell they had played together MANY times before by the patterns and unspoken moves they made, and it was headaching trying to keep up. I fought hard, though, and still managed to block my man (who happened to be Lance... big surprise!) and get some shots in at the basket. A few even made it in! I was happy about that, and determined to show these guys I could still hold my own. I was having a great time until...

"Hey, Scoop..." JC had called Lance. He was passing Lance the ball, so he pumped the ball forcefully towards his teammate. Lance was looking over in my direction, smiling at some of Justin's antics. He heard his name, and slowly turned around to see why JC was calling him.

I could hear the sickening crack. It was like slow motion. Lance reached up with both hands to protect his face, but the ball had already nailed him. I watched in horror as Lance was knocked backwards from the force of the ball, trying to hold his face while protecting his fall, while totally shocked from the impact, all at the same same. He came crashing down to the ground, and another stomach-wrenching crack was heard as his head hit the concrete. I felt so helpless as he fell because I was just too far away, and was simply unable to catch him in time.

My heart stopped when I saw Lance like that. There was a crowd around him instantly, myself being the first to arrive at his side. His face was a mess of blood, and his eyes were a bit crossed from the trauma. I was concerned both for his face and for his head-both had received pretty bad blows.

"I AM SO SORRY, LANCE," JC yelled as he ran up. I glanced up to see a white-faced JC staring in terror at his downed bandmate. I quickly refocused on Lance and knew I needed to be the calm one and take action to help him.

"Lance! Are you okay?" I said, trying not to scream. Lance was conscious, but totally dazed.

"Wha...what happened? Where am I?" COUGH "Is that my blood?" The blood was streaming from his nose, and the bridge of his nose appeared a bit disfigured.

"You got hit by the basketball. You've got a bloody nose. You also hit your head. Does your head hurt?"

"Huh? Nah... it's great. I hit it like that every day." His groggy response helped make me feel better about his consciousness level, but he still needed help.

"Chris, Peter, somebody... grab me those towels over there." Wide-eyed, they both filled my request. Instantly, I had 3 workout towels in my hand. Not the most sterile, but they'd have to do. "Justin, JC? I need ice in a bag. Also, see if there's a doctor or nurse on duty in the hotel." I received nods, and they were instantly off. "Chris, help me over here." Chris came to Lance's side as I began to examine my friend. I saw no other signs of trauma, and the bump on his head appeared to be less serious then I thought.

"Lance? Chris and I are going to help you sit up. I'm afraid the blood is going to run down your throat or into your lungs. We also need to try to stop the bleeding."

"Billy, it really hurts. It feels like someone hit me with a baseball bat." Lance try to say between the hurting jabs from his face.

"How's basketball sound? It's close enough." I joked, but I saw painful tears tricking down Lance's face. I sobered up immediately, gave Lance a nod, and helped him sit up. It was painful for him, but he eventually got himself up. I gently held a towel on his nose, trying to cause as little pain as possible. "Lance, I need to try to stop this bleeding. Will it kill you if I press a little more?"

"I think I should be alright." I accepted that as a yes, and gave a little squeeze. Lance screamed. I immediately released the pressure. It was killing me to see Lance like this, but I had to stay in control. I breathed in, removed the cloth, and noticed the area around his nose had become a dark blue. I knew what needed to be done.

"Peter? You have a car rented, right?"

"Yeah, it's parked around the corner."

"Okay, get it. Lance has got a broken septum. He needs to go to the hospital."

"A broken WHAT?!?" Pete asked.

"Broken nose. He needs to see a doctor."

"Oh no. OH NO! What's Roger going to say? He's broken his nose. OH NO." Peter started freaking out.

"PETER!" I yelled. "We need to get to a hospital. I need you to get the car!" Peter looked at me, realized he was going crazy, calmed down, nodded, and took off the get the car. By this time, Justin and JC had returned with a few plastic bags full of ice, along with a small group of people from the hotel. I took the ice and wrapped it in a towel, slowly placing it on Lance's nose. Lance gasped at first, but exhaled when he felt the coldness. I turned to the group and asked, "Is anyone medically trained?"

"I just work at the front desk, but I've taken beginner's first aid class," said a lady on the side. I smiled and nodded at her, but realized I was probably more qualified to help Lance. I returned my attention to my patient.

"Lance, we're going on a trip to the hospital. I think you've broken your nose. Peter's getting the car now."

"Duh, Einstein. I'm not deaf, you know. The ball hit my nose, not my ears." Considering the pain and disorientation he was experiencing, he was in great spirits. I smiled and made a strong eye contact with him, and he had a glimmer in his eyes that told me he knew I'd take care of him.

"Hey! Car's ready!" I heard Peter yelling around the corner, and knew we had to move Lance now. I asked one of the men in the group if he could quickly get a handful of towels for us, and he immediately acknowledged and headed back inside.

"Okay, guys. It's time to get Lance to the car. I need Chris down here to help lift him up. Lance, can you hold the ice?" He acknowledged with an 'Um hum', considering nodding his head was out. "All right, let's go. 1...2...3!" Up he went, with Chris on one side and me on the other. We walked slowly over to the car, and the back door has already been opened for us.

"I wanna go!" rang unanimously from the guy's mouths. Realizing that we were six, and we could only comfortably fit four, I had to make some assignments, and I picked the closest one first.

"JC, you're in the front. Lance and I are in the back. Chris and Justin? Grab the stuff off the court and hop a ride over to the hospital." The last two looked disappointed, but they understood and nodded. I gave Peter directions to the hospital, which was quite close. The extra towels arrived just in time, and we were underway.

JC spent the whole time trying to apologize to Lance, and I quickly realized I had picked the wrong person to ride with us. DUH. I had to shush him a few times, because Lance kept trying to say he wouldn't think about accepting his apologies, and that it was an accident--doing so caused him a lot of pain. We finally arrived, and Peter pulled the car to a stop in the emergency entrance.

"JC, I need to go in with Lance. Can you park the car?" JC did as he was asked, and we all went in through the sliding glass doors. Peter immediately went to the admit desk and summoned a nurse, undoubtedly sharing Lance's band affiliation for some speedy attention. The same thought crossed my mind, and I guided Lance to an out-of-the-way spot in the emergency room where we wouldn't be noticed. Thankfully, the emergency room was practically deserted. We sat down and I turned to Lance.

"Are you okay? I hate to see you like this."

"I'm okay, Billy. Honestly. I don't know what this thing is going to look like when it's all over, but I'm fine. I'm FINE because you are here." He reached out his hand and patted me on the knee. Not in a sensual way, but rather in reaffirmation.

"Hey... I'm here to take care of you." Our mush session was quickly ended when Peter, accompanied by a nurse, walked over.

"Okay, what do we have here?" the nurse asked in a caring voice.

"Well, guy vs. basketball, pretty much," I answered. "Blunt force to the nose, probably a broken septum. Also, blunt force to the back of the head when he fell on the concrete. I've been with him the whole time, and there's been no LOC. He's been fine the whole time."

"Well, you seem to know your stuff! Okay Mr. Bass, let's get you into this wheelchair. And for you? We'll get you a new top." I was curious about what she was talking about, until I looked down and noticed my shirt was pretty messed up with Lance's blood. The nurse produced a wheelchair from behind her, and Lance was instantly carted off, out of my view. An orderly came out a moment later with a pair of hospital scrubs, and I proceeded to change my shirt there in the waiting room. I then sat down in the chair with a thud. This was the first time I had a chance in the last 20 minutes I had the opportunity to let my guard down. I exhaled deeply, and slid down in my chair. JC walked in moments later, and walked to Peter and I. They discussed Lance's condition, or at least the fact that they DIDN'T know Lance's condition, and they both finally sat down. Peter finally turned to me and said,

"Billy, that was great. What you did for Lance was great." I appreciated the comment, but I had no energy to respond. I just nodded.

"Yeah, Billy. I don't know what I would have done if I was there by myself. I feel so bad that I did this." I reached over and pulled JC into a side hug.

"Oh, come on JC. You know it's not your fault. It was an accident. Just a little mistake on the court. Lance will be okay." We sat there for a moment, and JC nodded.

"Thanks Billy. Just like Peter said, that was great what you did for Lance."

"How did you know what to do?" Peter asked. "With the towels, and ice pack, and 'septum', and all that chatter with the nurse. How do you know that stuff?"

"Oh. Well, until about a year ago, I wanted to be either an EMT or work in sports medicine or something. Anyway, I've taken a bunch of first aid classes, and I was about half way through my first EMT module when I changed my mind and dropped the program. That's about it."

"Well, you did a great job. You really took control when under pressure. Thanks," Pete said. I didn't feel like a hero, nor did I want to be treated like one.

"I was just helping out. That's what friends are for." Peter and JC nodded and smiled. At about the same time, Justin and Chris came bounding into the ER. What a comedy duo. They spotted us and came right over.

"How is he? Is he okay? How's his nose?"

"He's been taken back and they're working on him now," Peter said. "He was feeling great on the way back, and we just have to wait."

And wait we did. 30 minutes. 1 hour. 1 1/2 hours. 2 hours. Was Lance ever going to come out? Peter had spoken with the nurse at the desk a few times, and was even taken back to chat with a doctor or something. But none of us were allowed back at all. I understood, but I was still totally concerned for my guy. Although it wasn't exactly the way I wanted to spend our last day together (at least for a while), I did get a great chance to talk with all the guys and get to know them. I would have been totally freaked out if I was stuck in this conversation a week ago, but I sensed a great family bond between the guys, and I felt included in that bond more and more as the minutes of our conversations went on.

Peter and Justin had gone to get some sandwiches from the deli, but I just wasn't hungry. I only wanted to see Lance. I must have wished hard enough though, because my wish came true. Almost the exact time the guys got back, Lance, escorted by the doctor, emerged from behind a set of white swinging doors. He had a pretty big bandage covering his nose. I was instantly on my feet, walking as quickly as possible to his side. I was strong enough to resist the urge to hug him, but I did grab his shoulders, give them a light squeeze, looked him straight in the eye, and asked,

"Are you okay?" Before I got a response from Lance, the doctor spoke up.

"Are you Billy?" I nodded in bewilderment.

"I didn't do it!" The doctor smiled, and continued.

"Haha, I'm Dr. Morgan. Actually, you DID do it. You did everything Lance here needed for a quick recovery. The ice to reduce swelling and slow blood flow, the quick trip to the hospital... It was perfect. By the way, his nose WAS broken... good call. Now, because of all you did, we were able to reset the cartilage with no problem, and after the bruising heals, you'd never know his nose was broken." All the guys, who had since joined the group, sighed in relief. I think JC sighed hard enough for two people. I looked at Lance again, and he mouthed the words, 'thank you' to me. I simply nodded and smiled.

The trip back to the hotel was quiet, much to Lance's relief. Chris and JC called the hotel to send a shuttle over, and Justin rode in the car with us. Justin really showed concern for Lance, and tried his dandiest to keep Lance's spirits up with jokes and stuff, but the pain medication must have really kicked in, because Lance was sooo out of it. He wasn't sleepy or groggy or anything, he just wasn't his normal punchy self. When we got back to the hotel, Peter, Justin and I walked Lance back up to his room.

"What's up with this? You think I'm some kind of invalid?" Lance poked. Okay, so he WAS punchy. "I just bumped my nose. I don't think I need y'all in this big old group following me around." He was joking, of course, but we all took the subtle hint to take a step back. We reached the room, and Justin gave Lance a gentle hug.

"Glad you're okay, dude. Get that nose fixed up, eh?" Justin said.

"Thanks, Curly. You're the best. Hey, I'm not really up for any more basketball, if that's okay with everybody," Lance said, earning him a round of laughter. "I think I might just kick it in my room and watch TV or something."

"That's okay, Lance," Peter tossed in. "I need to call Roger and let him know what happened. We'll probably have to reschedule some photo shoots planned for the next few weeks, and he'll need to work out all the insurance stuff. I'll check back on you later. Call me if you need anything."

"See ya, Scoop," Justin said as he turned and headed for his own room. Peter turned to me and began speaking.

"Billy, thanks again for what you did out there. It was great. I know the guys appreciate your friendship, and I appreciate how you took control of the situation." I blushed at the compliment and looked down at the ground. Peter walked past me back down the hall, and gave my side a squeeze as he walked by. I was surprised by the gesture, but simply wrote it off again as an encouraging contact.

Well, there we were. Lance and I, standing in the hall, alone. I was staring at him, he was staring at me.

"I better get going. You need to rest and..." I started.

"Excuse me!? You're not going anywhere. You're coming in to keep me company. I'm the patient here, remember?" I smiled, and followed him into his bedroom. It had been a day or so since we'd been there, and there was still the same mess that Lance had left before. I turned on a few lights in the room, and Lance went over and sat in the chair facing the TV. He flipped it on, changing channels mindlessly, not really paying attention to what was on. That pain medication must have really been good stuff! I took a good look at Lance, and realized they had done very little to clean him up. He still had dried blood on his neck, and a bunch on his shirt and shorts.

"Hey Lance, don't take this the wrong way, but... you're a mess!" Lance glanced up at me, looked down at his clothes, and shook his head.

"They get paid a few thousand dollars to fix up my nose, and they can't give me a fresh outfit? What's up with that? YOU got a hospital shirt, all I get is this gauze on my face." He made me laugh, and I walked over to him.

"Come here. Let me clean you up."

"Oooooh, pampering. I like it."

"Oh yeah? We'll don't get used to it." We walked into the bathroom where I grabbed some towels from the rack. I ran some warm water in the sink and had Lance hop up on the counter so he didn't have to stand up. I wetted a towel and began to carefully wash his face, being sure I didn't bump his nose or cause him any pain. He closed his eyes, and I'm sure the warm compress felt good on his face. I washed under his eyes, his mouth area, and down his chin. I had to rinse the towel a few times and really scrub, because the mess was pretty well caked on. I ran into a problem when I got to his neck. The blood had soaked into the shirt a bit, and there were blood stains on his skin underneath his clothes. "Hey Lance, can you get your shirt off?" He shrugged and nodded, so we tried to remove his shirt in the usual manner. However, when we got to his face, he winced and cried in pain because he couldn't get the collar over his nose. We rewound a bit, and I thought of an alternative.

"Do you have a pair of scissors, by chance?" He thought for a moment, and shook his head.

"Nope. Sorry. We could probably call for some?"

"Nah. I've got another idea. Hold on." I reached up to his collar and gave it a tug, pulling it to the left and right. That wonderful sound of ripping fabric filled the bathroom.

"Ooooh!" Lance said. I continued tugging on the shirt until it ripped some more. And some more. I finally got to the bottom of the T shirt, and yanked the rest of the shirt apart. We looked at each other as we both realized the OTHER connotation behind ripping clothes, and started cracking up. Lance responded, "Oooooh... kinky! Wow, Billy. I didn't know you were like that!"

"Hahahaha. Shut up. Hahaha. Be GLAD I'm not kinky like that. It makes romance pretty expensive!" We giggled some more as I pulled the rest of the shirt off. I proceeded to wash Lance's chest of the leftover mess. I started at his shoulders, washed his upper arms, moved to his pecs, and then to his belly. I was really mean by teasing Lance's nipples now and then with the towel, and Lance acknowledged that meanness with a grunt of mock disapproval. I took a little more time than necessary washing this region of my guy, but I don't think either of us minded that much.

When we finished, I fished out a pair of sweats for Lance to wear, and he instantly changed out of his bloody shorts. We walked back into the bedroom, and Lance said,

"Dude, I don't know why, but I am SOO thirsty!"

"Well, considering you just lost a lot of blood, that's no big surprise."

"Oh yeah, huh... Are you thirsty? I'll call room service and they can send something up." He had already sat down on the bed, and was half-heartedly reaching for the phone. He had no energy.

"You're going to call room service for a few sodas? They'll take forever! Tell ya what, I'll run down and get some stuff. I'll be right back."

"Thanks Billy." I took off, leaving the door unlocked so I could return without Lance bothering to get up. Taking the elevator down, I found a few soda machines, one of which dispensed 20oz. bottles. COOL. I found some root beer, and bought a few bottles. Mission accomplished. I headed back up, and went straight to Lance's room.

"Dude.. how cool is this? They've got 20oz. bottles of rootbeer! Rock on." I yelled as I bounded into the room. There was no response. I walked into the bedroom area, only to discover Lance lying back on the bed, totally zonked out. I cringed when I realized how loud I had been, but quickly realized that Lance probably wouldn't have woken up if a Sherman tank had barreled into the room. I set the sodas in the empty refrigerator and kicked my shoes off. I climbed onto the bed next to Lance and propped myself up on my side. I just looked at him. He was so beautiful, despite the whole nose thing. He really was a fighter, and I knew he'd have this thing licked in no time. He is a fighter. A fighter. A fighter for me. He was going to fight for me. He was fighting for me. He was fighting to keep us together. I don't know how, because he wouldn't tell me, but he was fighting for our relationship. He was so precious, such a special person, and I knew at that point that it would take a strong, strong force to rip me away from him.

Feeling the exhaustion set in from the events of the morning and early afternoon, I reached for a pillow to put under my head. I snuggled close to Lance, who was still shirtless, and draped my arm over his chest. I reached up and ran my hand down his face-his perfect face-and brushed some stray hairs back into place. I buried my face in the pillow and drifted off to sleep.

"Hey! Peter wants to know if you guys want dinner, so I............ OOOHHH MYYY." I heard a voice talking, so I raised my head to figure out what was going on, still totally out of it from the nap. When my eyes finally focused, I jumped awake and ripped my arm from around Lance, almost falling off the bed.

"Wait, I, uh... it's not... I'm not..." I had no words for the situation. Justin stood at the edge of the bedroom area, jaw gaping, not believing the sight before him. Lance stirred from the activity in the room and opened his eyes. He glanced at me, glanced at Justin, and suddenly became wide awake. He looked as if he was trying to say something, but the words did not come for him, either.

"I'm............ um......... I... don't know what to say. I'll leave, I didn't mean to interrupt...... um, oh, man..." Justin was just about as speechless as I was. Justin started backing towards the door. Lance managed to holler.

"Justin, wait!"

• • • • • • -I'm soo sorry. Resolution WILL be found in the next chapter...well, maybe a little bit. Keep an eye out soon for the next chapter! Don't get into too much trouble, y'all! If you have any comments or questions, please feel free to drop me a line at:

kaiser_goof@hotmail.com ~Jeff Buh bye!