Don't Walk Away
by Crystal
(website :: livejournal)

There's no winners
And there's no losing
All we've got is what we are
Yeah

"I hate you," Nick pouted, crossing his arms and keeping his stance near the doorway. Lance just smiled a shark toothed grin and walked over to him, placing his hands on Nick’s waist.

"No you don’t," he chuckled. "You love me and now you’re going to help me pack." He stretched up and placed a small kiss on Nick’s lips. Nick just stuck his bottom lip out farther. Lance held him at an arm’s length, never losing his grin.

"Keep making that face and it’ll get stuck like that," he said. The two fell into staring at one another, green eyes piercing blue until they gave way and Nick threw up his hands in defeat and bitched about how long Lance would be in Russia.

Their fights always happened like that. Well, they weren’t really fights per se. No one yelled and no one threw anything. They were more like on sided whining sessions that were never won by the whiner. And it wasn’t to say that the whiner was always Nick. Lance did his fair share once in a while too.

"I hate you," Lance huffed. Nick looked up to where Lance leaned against his desk, narrowing his eyes at him while he checked his schedule for the next few days.

"You don’t mean that baby," Nick laughed. Lance just looked at his shoes and Nick sighed. He grabbed Lance by the arm and pulled him into his lap. Lance landed awkwardly and almost fell off, but was saved by the firm grip Nick had around his waist.

"Come on now," Nick said. "I have promo. You know how that goes."

"I’m only here for three days Nick," Lance countered. Nick just smiled and gave Lance a kiss on the cheek. Another staring contest and Lance managed a "fine" and started talking about his training.

It always started with the same words. I hate you. But they never meant anything. There was no heat behind the words. More worry than anything else. And whoever said it was always dealt with a swift, loving action before all was forgotten. Actually, not forgotten, but more like stored away. It was a while before Nick realized that they way they dealt with arguments wasn’t the healthiest possible way they could do it. Nothing ever got sorted out between them. And with every passing fight, words became sharper and voices became louder. Nick could feel the tension building all around and between them.

Then it blew up.

One mistake and
I got you breaking
This time I think I've gone too far

"What do you mean you’re making a second album?" Lance asked. Nick watched as Lance scooted away from him and to the other end of the couch.

"What do you think I mean?" Nick replied. "I’m going back into the studio. Since the Boys aren’t going to be doing anything anytime soon I figured now would be the best time."

"But I thought you were over that?"

"Over what? Lance what is your problem?" Nick looked at Lance confused.

"The solo album was supposed to be a one time deal," Lance spat out. "After that you were supposed to stop."

"You expect me to stop?" Nick asked surprised. "Why should I stop if this is what I’ve wanted to do for the past couple years?"

"It’s nothing but a side project Nick. It’s not going to go anywhere so why don’t you quit while you’re ahead?" Lance’s voice was bitter and Nick suddenly felt the contempt rise in him.

"Oh I see what this is about," he said, narrowing his eyes at Lance. "You’re pissed because you just got home from only God knows where and you were expecting me to sit around and wait for you."

"Is it so much to ask to have you around?" Lance yelled as he stood from the couch. "I don’t need you out there fucking around with shit that’s not going to be taken seriously by anyone!"

"I don’t care what anyone else says!" Nick yelled back, standing to match Lance. "I’m doing this because it’s what I want to do!"

"Bullshit! You’re only doing this to gain the respect that you’re never going to get!"

"Oh and like trying to get into space wasn’t the same thing?" Nick reeled back at what he had just said. But Lance barely even flinched before he said the words.

"I hate you." Things went silent from there. The words had a fire behind them. There was no worry, no joking, and no loving gestures to remedy the fight. Just silence.

"I should’ve seen this coming," Lance hissed. "We don’t belong together."

"Well we finally agree on something then," Nick hissed back. Lance was already backing out into the front hallway.

"I’ll pick up my stuff tomorrow."

"I sure as hell won’t be here."

And with that, Lance was gone.

Baby tell me why we don't speak
Open your heart
To me
Love me tonight

The next month was pretty good all things considered for Nick. The house was considerably cleaner, what with Lance shit not all over the place. He was happy not to even hear Lance’s voice anymore. Since he left Nick hadn’t even seen him once and that wasn’t a problem for him. Promo for the upcoming album went a lot smoother than the first time too. He didn’t have to worry about Lance and whether or not he saw him enough. And coming home at night meant that he could sprawl out over his bed without having half of it being taken up by another body.

Nick didn’t sleep very well that month.

You know I need you
Because I breathe you
And with every breath I fall apart

The album was suddenly put on hold. Not by the record company, not by management, but by Nick. He wasn’t sleeping, he wasn’t eating, and he certainly wasn’t coming up with any new material. It was almost as if his mind had shut off completely. He went to the studio though. Sat there day after day and waited for something, anything, to come to him.

And that’s where he was. Hunched over a notebook late at night, just waiting. The pencil he had moved swiftly over the paper but he wasn’t writing lyrics. He wasn’t paying attention to anything as it was. So when he finally realized what he was drawing, he was a little surprised to see Lance staring up at him from the page. Ripping it out, he balled it up and threw it in the general direction of the trash. He threw out the next sheet too. It seemed to be wet.

Baby tell me what's left of me
If you're not right next to me
Baby I'd die

Another month and Jive was getting nervous. After all that promo the album was still on hold. It started to hit the media now and Nick was pressed for time. But it wasn’t time he was having trouble with. It was the silence. It was all the empty space around him. He wasn’t used to having no one around. For him he always had someone around for inspiration, motivation. And he had nothing. He couldn’t even drag himself to the studio to try anymore.

It was a lost cause. He could finally admit to himself that it was because of Lance. Not wanting to before, he took it upon himself to be honest about it. He hated him more than anything then, but only because he loved him so much.

There's no reason to cry
When you're drowning yourself
In your tears tonight
Part of me dies
And you know it's not right
Yeah

One last attempt at his album put him back at the studio. What with his erratic sleeping patterns though he ended up there in the middle of the night. In the usual position, he sat over the pages of his notebook, his pencil scribbling doodles all over the paper. He squinted in the dim lighting at his markings and heard the door open behind him.

"It’s just me," he called out. Sometimes the late night security would come by to see who had shown up. But when Nick didn’t hear the retreating footsteps that usually followed the closing of the door he turned around.

"I heard you were having writing problems," Lance said. Nick just looked at him in wonder. He looked like shit.

"You look like shit," Nick voiced his thoughts. Lance just shrugged.

"It hasn’t been a good couple of months." He sniffed and shoved his hands in his pockets. Nick noticed the red in his eyes and God help him, his heart just about crack in two.

"I know the feeling," he managed to reply. Lance looked away for a while and when he looked back into Nick’s eyes he spoke.

"I hate you, you know." Nick felt the corners of his mouth twitch up as he stood and walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck and felt Lance’s grip on the back of his t-shirt. Closing his eyes he breathed in the scent he had missed.

"I hate you too."

And you know it's not right