Pairing: Chris and Lance
Words: bitterness; graffiti; destroy; dandy


Lance doesn't let bitterness overwhelm him. It'd be easy to do so.

Really easy, he thinks, looking at the shabby apartment. This is
not where he was twenty minutes ago. Twenty minutes ago, he'd been
heading to the bathroom. To his well-appointed, luxurious bathroom.
He'd walked through a door -- and now he's here.

He'd spent some time completely unable to believe it, then some
more time just walking through doors, hoping one of them could take
him back, and that didn't take into account how much he'd pinched
himself to try to wake up.

Some way, somehow, his life has been destroyed and he's in a
hellhole.

A hellhole with graffiti on the walls.

Well. Isn't this fine and dandy?

Chris slams the door. "Okay, where then hell am I? Joey? JC? Did
you put something in that pot, you fuckers?" he screams to the
ceiling.

Lance whirls around. "Oh, thank God." He hasn't been speaking to
Chris for weeks now, ever since The Incident, but right now he's
desperately glad to see him.

Chris lets out a short scream and backs away. "Oh, this is not
good. This is bad bad bad. You're some part of my high subconscious
and you're gonna kill me for being a dick."

That mitigates the relief somewhat, but not by a whole lot. He's
too freaked out. "I'm real. And, yeah, so I'm pissed at you, but at
the moment, I don't really care. I'm just glad to see you."

Chris frowns. "You mean I'm not in some sort of drug induced sleep
and the door to JC's bathroom really did lead into a closet here?"

"The door to my bathroom led to the door to the bedroom here, so
I'd say, no, you're not anymore drugged up than usual, and that the
door really did lead here."

"Did you find a bathroom here?"

Lance nods. He points. "That way."

"Did you go through the door?"

"I've been through every door here, so yes."

"Fuck. Well, I still have to piss, so hold that thought." Chris
heads for the supposed bathroom.

Well, Lance supposes, at least he isn't going there to puke. Lance
starts looking for a phone book, personal effects, something to
tell them where they are and maybe why.

Chris comes out of the bathroom far more awake and far more
comfortable than he went in. He finds Lance in the bedroom looking
at something in the dresser. "What'd you find?"

"We're in Fort Wayne, Indiana. Don't ask me why, I have no idea.
Phone book's on the bed."

"Indiana? Like Jones?"

"Yes. Like Jones."

"Okay. Whose house are we in?" Chris starts hunting for some hint
of the building's layout. They can always ask the manager or super
or whatever.

"Someone who wears exactly the same size clothes we do," Lance
says, abandoning the dresser.

"Both of us?"

"Take a look."

Chris looks. "So, either someone whose weight seriously yoyos, or
two guys."

"Yep."

"Weird."

"Not as weird as us being here in the first place."

"True. Okay. I'm gonna go see if we have food, hot water, heat and
a phone."

"Okay. Good things to look for. I'm going to keep trying to figure
out what's going on." Lance goes through the nightstand. The lack
of personal belongings is frustrating. Oh, there's things, but the
stack of porn magazines under the bed doesn't prove anything other
than that the people who live here like looking at naked people.
Guys and girls.

Chris is much more concerned about survival. This place looks like
some of the apartments he grew up in. He intends to make sure that,
unlike some of them, this one can actually sustain life.

It's the bookcase that gives him his best clue, and that's only
accidental. He finds a picture of himself -- or someone who looks
a lot like him -- with his arm around someone who looks a lot like
Chris. He's dark-haired, almost as dark-haired as Chris. Chris
looks happy. Lance doesn't.

He takes the picture and goes out into the other room and hands it
to Chris.

Chris looks at the picture for a long moment, tracing his fingers
over the figures absently. "Oh."

"I don't think anyone's going to be coming to tell us we don't
belong here. Or if they do, well."

"Looks like I don't make you happy in any reality, huh?" Chris
says, handing the photo back. "So now we need to find out where our
money comes from, what we do. Jobs we need to show up for."

"Jobs?" Lance is flabbergasted. It completely takes his mind off of
Chris' first comment. "You're thinking about staying?"

"I'm thinking about not starving to death," Chris says. "I'm
thinking about surviving. So. First, since we don't have a phone
here, we find out how we stay alive. Then we find a payphone and
some change and call people we hope know us. Like our parents."

Lance squeezes his eyes shut. "This isn't *real*. It's not
happening."

Chris sighs and pats Lance's shoulder gently. "Yeah. Here, I've got
change. There's a payphone down there on the street. You can see it
through the window. Why don't you go ahead and start calling people
to come get us. Or whatever'll make you feel better."

"Stop it." Lance pulls away from Chris. "I know that won't work.
I'm not that stupid. Just because I don't want this to be real
doesn't mean that it isn't. Oh, fuck. Whatever. The numbers
wouldn't be the same. We need a computer. Or directory assistance."

"Public library," Chris suggests. He's so tired of fighting with
Lance. It's draining and it isn't fun. It's stupid and wrong and
pointless, and, of course, it must be all Chris's fault. "Phone
book."

"It's an Indiana phone book.  Oh.  Nevermind.  You mean the
library's in the phone book."  The look Chris is giving him makes
Lance feel ashamed of himself.  "I'm trying to deal, okay?  I need
a minute."

"It's okay. This is probably a totally new situation for you to be
in, aside from the whole weird warp thing."

"Weird warp thing?"

"However we ended up here."

"That's not normal for me," Lance says stiffly.

"I know, Lance. Me either. But this apartment? That's way more
normal for me than for you."

"Oh. Sorry?" Lance turns away and starts going through the phone
book, looking for the library.

"Nah, no problem." Chris finds work schedules on the fridge. Two of
them, both with his name in for shifts. He sighs, not surprised.
There's also a class schedule with Lance's name on it. Chris hands
it to Lance when he's done with the phone book.

Lance takes it and chokes. "Chris."

"What?"

"You didn't read these?"

"Your schedule? No."

Lance nods. "Okay. Sorry. Didn't mean to bug you."

"What about it?" Chris asks, curiously. "I thought you'd want to
see it first, since it has your name."

Chris sounds genuinely friendly.  Lance sits down.  "It's just,
well.  I mean, we've all talked about what we might have done if we
hadn't done NSYNC, but this.  This just isn't what I thought."

"What is it?" Chris asks curiously.

"I'm studying to be a nurse," Lance says miserably, handing over
his class schedule.

Chris looks at it.  He carefully doesn't smile.  "Well.  You're
good with sick people.  Like when Joey got hurt or when Justin has
strep throat."

"I *hate* people!  Especially sick people!"

"Oh."  Chris shrugs awkwardly.  "I'm sorry.  Hey, if it makes you
feel better, I've got two jobs.  One of them looks kinda
janitorial."

"No.  It doesn't.  That just makes me feel like a bastard."

"Why?"  Chris is totally baffled.

"Because you're acting like we're going to follow these schedules,
and you have two jobs, probably both horrible and you're going to
work both of them to support us.  I'm sorry."

Chris smiles a little.  "It's okay, Lance.  Neither of them is
watching sheep, and nothing can be worse than that.  This is the
life I expected to have.  Well.  Minus the hot... roommate."

Lance smiles a little.  "Thanks."

"Welcome."  Chris stands there for a moment more, rubbing his hands
on his jeans.  "Uh, well.  We're running low on food, and I found
a grocery list and money marked 'for food'.  In my handwriting. 
I'm gonna... go try to find a market.  You wanna come with me?"

Lance nods.  "I don't know where we are.  Having you were is the
only thing keeping me from going insane.  I can't lose you."

Chris kneels next to Lance.  He doesn't touch Lance, but puts his
hand near Lance's.  "It'll be okay, Lance.  It really will.  I
promise to keep you safe," he says seriously.  "I promise."

Lance touches Chris' shoulder.  "Truce?"

"Truce.  Forfeit, even," Chris says.  "Let's find you a coat."

"Chris?  I'm sorry.  For whatever made you do what you did in the
first place.  For holding a grudge after that.  Everything."

"You're forgiven, if you need to be.  If you'll accept it, I say
you didn't do anything wrong.  C'mon."  Chris stands and pulls
Lance up.  "Let's go get some cheap food."

Lance knows he didn't do anything wrong.  Except in maybe making
things worse after Chris hadn't apologized.  Which, yes, is a good
reason to stay mad, except that Chris doesn't apologize.  And Lance
hadn't been willing to swallow his pride yet again.  But this is
better than an apology.  Because Chris'll take care of him.  Chris
will keep him safe.

"Okay," Lance says, and squeezes Chris' hand.

Chris smiles.

~~~~

Two weeks later, Chris comes in from his third shift job.  Lance is
already home.  Chris knows because he uses his lunch break to get
Lance and *bring* him home.  Usually he's asleep when Chris
actually comes in for the night.  But tonight he's not in bed. 
He's on the couch.  At first Chris thinks he's awake, studying for
a test that's coming up.  When he gets closer he realizes Lance is
asleep with the text book propped on his knees.  Chris smiles
softly as he kneels down in front of Lance.

"Lance.  Lance, c'mon.  You can't sleep here.  C'mon, let's get you
into bed."

Lance opens his eyes wearily.  "Sorry, Chris.  'm gonna get out of
your way."

"Nah, it's not that.  Your back'll get all fucked up again if you
sleep out here."  Lance hasn't really enjoyed being on his feet all
the time, as his practicals have required him to do.  Chris took
some of their fun money to buy him a hand-held massager, since he
couldn't be there to rub Lance's back and legs for him.  But
sleeping on the couch would undo all the progress they've made, and
Chris doesn't want that for Lance.

Lance staggers to his feet.  He leans on Chris, because Chris is
right there and it's that or fall over.  He's so tired, but Chris
has it worse than he does.  It makes him feel ashamed about even
thinking about complaining.  "Okay."

Chris leads Lance to the bed, laying him down and tucking him in. 
"There.  Usual time?" he asks, setting the alarm.

"Right.  Chris--"

"What?" Chris asks in that middle-of-the-night voice.  The soft one
meant to keep people from waking up all the way.

"You going to come sleep with me?"

"After I shower, sure."  As it's gotten colder -- and the
temperature has dropped nearly twenty degrees so far -- they've
started sleeping together just to keep from freezing.

Lance nods and closes his eyes, curling up to try to get warm. 
When he's tired, his guard goes down and he can't stop himself from
needing Chris.  They found Lance's parents in this world -- only
they aren't anything like the parents Lance knows.  They're
divorced.  His mom drinks.  Chris hasn't been able to find his own
family.  Lance doesn't know if that's a disappointment or a relief.

Chris comes back from the shower clean but shivering.  It's a fair
trade, since his third shift job involves both hard labor and
cleaning the toilets.  He slides into the bed behind Lance, but
doesn't touch him right away.  Later, they'll be wrapped up tight. 
Right now, Chris is cold, and Lance hates being touched by cold
things.

Lance rolls over and lays his hand on Chris' arm.  "Can I... is it
okay if..."  He lets his breath out, frustrated at himself.  "Hold
me, please?"

Chris opens his arms immediately, pulling Lance close.  "I'm here. 
I'm here, Lance."

Lance sighs and gets close.  "Thanks."  Chris is cold, but he
doesn't care right now.

Chris finds himself kissing Lance's forehead with no idea when he
decided to do it.  He hopes Lance is too tired to notice like Chris
is too tired to keep from doing it again.

Lance sighs again.  "Thanks, Chris.  'm sorry I came onto you
before."  Before as before their lives changed so dramatically. 
"Won't do it again, but I need this, y'know?"

"Came onto me?" Chris queries, sleep already swirling around his
brain.

"Y'know.  What started all of this.  That.  The thing."

"You weren't coming on to me," Chris says, frowning.

Lance shakes his head against Chris' chest.  "I was.  And then you
acted like I'd tried to have sex with your sister, or come onto
Britney in front of Justin or something."

"I'm sorry, Lance.  I thought you were just drunk.  And throwing
comments about how horny you were and how this girl would be good
for this, or that guy good for that, and then groping me...  I
don't do that.  I only wanted to be with you if you wanted to be
with *me*."

"I'm sorry," Lance says, awake now, because this is important to
him.  He knows he gets drunk.  Or used to.  Here and now, they
don't spend their money on stuff like that.  They don't have money
to waste.  "I didn't... I wanted you.  A lot.  And you -- I felt
about an inch high when you got done with me."

"I was drunk, too," Chris says.  "I was wrong to do that to you and
wrong to not let it go when we were sober."

Lance nods.  "So this is okay then?"

Chris thinks of lots of answers to that.  He goes with the safest
one.  "Yes."

"Okay."  Lance isn't going to press his luck.  He yawns and thinks
about going to sleep.

Chris kisses Lance's forehead again.  "G'night, Lance.  Good luck
on your test tomorrow."  Chris will be gone when Lance wakes up. 
His off time is in the middle of the day, when Lance is at school.

"'kay," Lance says.

Chris grins and drifts off to sleep.

~~~~

Lance is fortunately close to summer break.  A month before school
lets out, he's already applying for jobs.  Jobs in nursing because,
as much as he hates it, it makes money.  And they need that.  His
chief goal right now is to make it so Chris doesn't have to work
more than one job.

The only problem is that the jobs he's best qualified for are
nursing jobs.  But if Chris can suck it up, so can he.

Because Lance stopped being hopeful while going through doors
months ago.

Chris comes home for his lunch break, and Lance is already there. 
It's ten in the morning, and Lance's final started at eight. This
means... "You did it, didn't you?  You passed.  You fucking did
it!"  Chris cheers and hugs Lance tightly.

Lance drops his pen and hugs Chris back.  "I think I did.  But you
know it's not the stuff to learn that worries me.  It's the actual
job."

"I still think you'll be good at it," Chris says.  He smiles softly
and musses Lance's hair.  "You did it."

"Yep.  And I'm looking for a summer job.  You'll be able to quit
cleaning toilets."

"It's not that bad," Chris says simply, the same thing he says
every time Lance mentions it.

Lance nods.  Chris doesn't complain, and that just makes Lance that
much more determined to make things better for him.

Chris smiles.  "Luckily, I don't have that job tonight.  Joy for
nights off.  We'll order a pizza, or something.  To celebrate."

"Sounds good to me.  I don't have any more tests today either." 
Lance smiles suddenly.  "This ever remind you of the warehouse? 
Only better?"

Chris laughs.  "Sometimes.  Sometimes not better.  I sang more
then."

"I'm happier now than I was then.  I wanted to die most of that
time."

Chris sits down and wraps Lance up tight in his arms.  "I'll take
care of you," he says.

Lance leans against him.  "That makes now better than then.  I was
convinced y'all hated me then."

"Nah, man.  Just too hot and tired and stressed to show you
otherwise."

"Imagine this with the guys here."  Lance's smile turns into a
grin.  "And Justin with the toilet cleaning job."

Chris laughs softly.  "Good point."

"Although," Lance's grin fades, "He'd probably just make himself
famous all over again."  There's no Justin Timberlake in this world
that he can find, but it's still a depressing thought.  That this
is all he can manage to make of himself.

Chris looks at Lance in surprise.  "Do you want to be famous?  Is
that our goal?"

That wasn't quite what Lance had been saying, but in a way, it's
exactly what he meant.  "It's just... you start thinking that the
reason you're wealthy and all that is because you earned it. 
Because you deserve it.  Both of us have run *businesses*.  But
here we are, doing this."

"We haven't tried to do anything else," Chris points out.  "If you
*want* to try, we totally can."

"Could we?" Lance asks.  "Or is this all we're worth?  Because I
think maybe this is."

"I think that we can do anything we're willing to work for.  I
think that you can get a job singing, and I can get a job singing. 
And knowing what we know about the business, we can get ourselves
noticed.  We can get back in, if we want to."

Lance gives Chris an uncertain look, because he's not sure how
Chris will take what he has to say next.  "That's what I'd like you
to do.  You shouldn't be cleaning toilets, not when you could be
singing.  And.  I don't like nursing all that much, but one of us
should have a stable job, I guess."

"What do you want to do?" Chris asks.  "All else aside, what do
*you* want to do with your life?"

Lance smiles ironically.  "It's easier for me to say what I want
you to do with your life.  I don't know what I could do different. 
I'm just sick of basically waiting to die."

Chris looks at Lance, worried nearly beyond words.  "That's what
you want now?"

"No!  But it's what we're doing.  We're subsisting.  I'm studying
to get a job I hate so I can make money to live, and you already
have that, even if you keep saying you don't hate your jobs, and
the end result of all of this is going to be both of us working
long hours from here until forever.  That's all."

Chris tilts his head.  "Okay.  Okay, then I'll get us out of this."

"How?  Why?  Why now and not before?  How is it going to work now
if it wasn't a good idea when we got here?  What..."  Lance shakes
his head and bites his lip.  It's not Chris' fault.  It's not
really the fault of either of them.  They walked through the right
door at the wrong time and now they're dealing with the end result. 
"Sorry."

"For what?  You didn't do anything wrong.  How... well, it's almost
summer.  If you can find a part-time job somewhere, I can find a
job singing.  Like I said, with our contacts, we can have an in. 
And why?  Because you want it now.  Before we had to survive.  Now
we're surviving and we're doing okay, so we have a little leeway."

Lance nods, but it still feels like Chris is just fixing Lance's 

Softly, he asks, "If it wasn't for me, if it was just you, would
you be happy living here like this?"

"No.  But I probably wouldn't try to change it.  Yet."

"So maybe we shouldn't try to change it yet either."

"We should," Chris says.  "We will."

Lance nods.  Abruptly, he says, "I'm glad that it's you that's
here.  I wanted you before, but as much as I did, I didn't know how
good of a person you really are."

Chris ducks his face against Lance's shoulder and sits silently
breathing in the scent.  Lance relaxes against him slowly.  Chris
relaxes into the couch.  When the clock strikes eleven, he sighs
and kisses Lance's cheek.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Lance says, and lets him go.

Chris stands and stretches.  "I'll be home at two thirty.  Why
don't you take a nap or something, Lance?  You've been studying so
hard."  He reaches out and traces the dark circles under Lance's
eyes.  "We'll celebrate when I get home, huh?"

Lance refuses to let himself get hopeful about Chris touching him. 
They've been here a long time now, and it hasn't meant anything
yet.  He nods.  "We'll celebrate when you get back."

Chris really, really needs to leave.  He'll miss his bus.  But he
bends down and kisses Lance, slowly.  It's not even a french kiss,
but it makes Chris's breath short.  "When I get back," he promises.

This time Lance smiles.  "When you get back."

~~~~

Chris, of course, never comes back.

Lance sleeps until three, because he really is exhausted.  He
doesn't get worried until five, and then he calls Chris' work.

They tell him Chris never showed up.

Lance wants to die.  He can't do this without Chris.  He calls
hospitals, the police, everyone and anyone he can think of.  No
one's seen him.

Chris is gone.

The door leads to JC's basement.  JC's basement, which Chris left
months ago.  He's not even all the way through the door when he
turns around and goes back.  But he doesn't end up in the
apartment.  He ends up in JC's bathroom.  After that, things sort
of blur.  He knows that he will not, for anything, leave this
doorway.  He knows the other guys show up, and no one can find
Lance.

Which means Lance is alone, in that other place.  And Chris has
just completely broken his promises to Lance, failed to care for
someone he loves, and abandoned someone who needs him.  It's nearly
too much to bear.  In fact, it is too much to bear.  The first cut
doesn't even hurt.  The second does, but then Joey wrestles him to
the floor and Justin takes the paring knife away.  Chris would go
after it, but he's not leaving this doorway.  He wedges himself in
and screams when anyone tries to make him move.  He's distantly
aware of people coming and going, the same way he's aware of the
tickling on his face being tears.

JC tries to feed him, of course.  Chris is nauseated by the smells. 
Lance is all alone.  Justin tries to put a pillow behind him, tries
to tell him to sleep.  Chris snarls and shoves Justin away, wedging
himself tighter into the doorway.  Nothing is getting him out of
the doorway.  Nothing.  Not food or sleep or toilets or mothers or
anything at all.  Nothing.  He's going to die here.  And if they
took the knife away, well, it'll just take longer.

Lance figures out what must have happened around midnight.  Or
rather, he allows himself to believe that it might be true. 
Feeling stupid but hopeful, he goes through each of the doors of
the apartment to see if he can go through, too.

He isn't really surprised when nothing happens.

He's alone, and the only thing worse than being here is being here
without Chris.

Lance cries himself to sleep.  It's the first time he's cried since
this whole thing started, but this is far worse than anything else
that's happened so far.

Eventually, Chris finds that banging his head against the door
frame keeps him from thinking.  The sound scares JC away.  Chris
needs Lance.

Lance gets up the next morning, moving like a sleepwalker.  He goes
to the bathroom because he has to.  When he steps out again, he
can't figure out how to get to the bedroom.  There's a hall where
the wall should be.

Justin answers his cell phone when it rings.  He hasn't even been
gone from JC's house for an hour and already they're checking up on
him.  He stops on the stairs of the empty house.  "Yes, I'm here. 
I'll be here.  Don't worry."  Justin bites his lip hard.  "How's
Chris doing?  Damnit.  We need to get him out of that doorway. 
He's gonna die, Joey.  He wants to die."  A pause.  "Okay, so he
wants Lance.  But I don't know how to find him."

Joey shrugs.  "Ask Chris maybe?  If anybody knows how they
disappeared in the first place, he does.  Maybe he has some idea
how Lance might reappear.  Both of them left.  It'd make sense if
both of them came back."

"I don't think Chris would be so fucked up if he knew how to get
Lance back," Justin says, heading toward Lance's bathroom.

Lance is just standing there in the hall when Justin comes around
the corner.  He jumps a little.  "Justin?" he asks shakily.

"Look, man, I have to piss.  Unless you wanna listen..."

Justin drops the phone.

"L-Lance?"

Lance grabs him.  "Oh my Lord.  Justin."  He pulls back.  "Chris. 
Where's Chris?  Is Chris here?"

"Chris is at JC's.  C'mon, we need to go there.  He needs you." 
Justin laces his fingers through Lance's and holds on tightly. 
He's not letting go.  He even holds Lance's hand in the car, which
is awkward, but at least Lance can't vanish again.

Lance can't quite believe the evidence of his eyes.  He keeps
looking around himself, at the interior of the car, at the scenery
around them.  He doesn't let go of Justin's hand.  He needs it to
believe that Justin is real.

Justin leads Lance down the stairs in JC's house.  "... and he
won't eat or sleep or move or anything."

Lance lets go of Justin's hand as soon as he sees Chris.  Ignoring
Joey, he throws himself on his knees.  "Chris.  Chris, we're back."

Chris doesn't answer at first.  They've tried playing recordings of
Lance before, to get him to move or something.  But the voice keeps
going and it smells like Lance and feels like him, too.  Chris
stops hitting his head on the wall and looks.  At Lance.  "Baby?"
he whispers.

Lance nods.  He gets as close as he can.  If he could wrap himself
up in Chris, he would, but the way Chris has shoved himself into
the doorway makes it impossible.  "Chris."

"Lance," Chris sobs, dropping his legs, pulling Lance into his lap. 
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Lance hugs him fiercely.  "Sorry for what?  We're back.  Chris,
we're back!"

"I left you alone," Chris whispers.  He can't look away from
Lance's face.

Lance frowns.  "I don't get it.  How'd you do that?"

"I'm so sorry I left you there alone."

"You didn't.  You just went back.  I was so scared that you'd
gotten hit by a car or something, but I didn't think you'd left me
on purpose."

"I shouldn't have left you at all, no matter what."

Lance smiles at him.  "How were you going to do that?  Handcuff
yourself to me?  Forget about it, Chris.  We're back."

Chris doesn't answer, just tucks Lance more firmly into his lap and
holds on.

"So, uh," Justin asks hesitantly.  "Where've you guys been?"

"Alternate reality," Chris says briefly.  "Indiana."

"Whoa," Justin says.  "And you guys have been together the whole
time?"

Lance laughs weakly.

"Define together," Chris says.

"Like... in the same place," JC says.

"Yep," Chris replies.  "Lance is a nurse."

"And Chris cleans toilets," Lance adds.

"Hey!  I cleaned the whole bathroom."

Lance laughs.

"But you're sleeping together, right?" Justin says.  "'Cause,
y'know, when you guys left, you were pretty pissed at each other
and now you're all clingy."

Chris blushes.  "Fuck.  Okay, kiddo.  Imagine if you and Joey were
the only two people around, and he was the only one in the whole
world who cared about you.  And you only had one bed.  And you
lived in a tenement.  This is more than sleeping together.  Lance
is... was the only thing in the whole fucking world that mattered
to me, capice?"

Justin's eyes are wide.

"Matters," Lance says softly, allowing Chris to contradict him if
he likes.

"Matters," Chris replies, just as softly.

JC kneels next to them.  "That's... that's good.  I think.  Not
that it had to happen to you, but that you found each other.  But,
um, Chris?  Will you please come out of the doorway now?"

Chris blinks, then laughs.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I'll come out of the
doorway."

"Do I need to hide the knives again?" Justin asks, frowning.

"Knives?" Lance asks sharply.

"Yeah," Joey says.  "Chris was... upset."

Lance looks at Chris.  "How upset?"

When it becomes obvious that Chris isn't going to say anything,
Justin does.  "He cut himself.  We think he was trying to kill
himself."

Chris presses his face to Lance's shoulder.  "I left you alone," he
says in a small voice.  "And you said you weren't happy.  You
were... I was scared."

"Because I would've been so much happier if I'd gotten back here
and you'd've been dead."  Lance shivers, thinking of it.

"I didn't think you'd come back," Chris says, and he's nearly
fucking crying again, like the huge pussy he is.  "I thought you'd
be stuck there all alone."

"Yeah, well.  I'm not.  I'm right here with you."

"Yeah.  You are."

Lance kisses Chris' hair.  "Want to come back to my place to
celebrate?  We could order pizza."

"Hey!" Justin objects.  We haven't seen you guys in forever!  You
can't do that."

Chris smiles slowly.  "Yeah.  I think I'd like that.  A lot."

Joey backs Justin up.  "No, really, guys.  You're not leaving.  We
are not letting you out of our sight, okay?  No.  You're not
going."  He's got his mobster voice on, the one that scares JC.

"We're not losing you again!" JC wails.

"We're just going to get some pizza," Lance says reasonably.

"No, you're gonna go get it on.  And that requires privacy, which
you're not getting until at least tomorrow," Justin says.

Lance chuckles a little.  "It does?"

"Yes," Justin says.

"No," JC and Joey chorus.

Lance's shoulders shake.  "What do you think, Chris?"

"I love you."

Lance nods.  Chris is seriously out of it.  He's where Lance was
last night.  "Okay.  We'll stay here for now.  You guys order
pizza.  Me and Chris'll take the couch."

Lance stands, never letting go of Chris, and tugs him to his feet.

Chris stands.  "I have to go to the bathroom," he admits, not
releasing Lance's hand.

"Maybe we should go have pizza at Justin's house," Lance says after
a second.  It's not so much that he's *irrationally* terrified of
Chris disappearing as he is uneasy about bathrooms.  Particularly
his and JC's.  "Or you could pee on the lawn."

Chris looks at JC.

JC winces, but nods.  "That's, um.  Yeah, that's okay.  If you
want."  He cringes again.

Chris giggles.

Lance and Chris go outside.

Justin looks uncertainly at JC and Joey.  "We should follow them,
right?"

"Yes!"

Lance snickers as the door opens behind them.  "We have an
audience."

Chris pisses in JC's bushes, still holding Lance's hand.  "I don't
care.  They've seen it before."

"Yeah."

Chris smiles a little.  "You're the only one who gets to see it
later," he teases tentatively.

"Not according to them," Lance grumbles good-naturedly.  "I think
they want to hang around and watch."

"They can hang around and listen, but I'm the only one who gets to
see you naked," Chris says firmly.

"Got that?" Lance calls over his shoulder.  To Chris, he says, "I'm
okay with just hanging out for a while and watching movies and
catching up.  At least until we get used to being back."

"Me too.  I'm just not going anywhere without you.  Especially not
through doorways."

JC shifts from foot to foot and finally goes to order the pizza. 
Joey and Justin sit on the deck and watch Chris and Lance.

"That's going to make life a little awkward, don't you think?"
Lance asks quietly.  "There's doors everywhere, after all."

"You can go, you just have to be holding my hand."

"Like I said.  Awkward."

"Oh."  Chris nods.  "Yeah."

Lance squeezes Chris' hand.  "Good thing I like you so much."

"Yeah.  Yeah, it is."  Chris grins and heads back to the house,
following Lance.

Lance sits down on the couch with Chris.  "I love you," he says. 
"You think maybe this time, you won't turn me down?"

"No.  I won't."

"Chris?  Will you be with me?  Date me, be my boyfriend, whatever
you want to call it?"

"Yes," Chris says simply.

"Ooh, aren't they so sweet?" Justin coos.

Lance flips him off and kisses Chris.  "I don't care where we are,
as long as I get be with you."

"Me, too," Chris says, and kisses him back.