*~*~*~*~*

Chris and Joey returned twenty minutes later, Chris having demonstrated that "taking Joey somewhere" and "having a conversation with Joey" were two completely different things, to see Lance sitting on the couch, head in his hands.  "How'd it go?" Chris asked, sitting next to him.

Lance sighed heavily. "It didn't," he said. "I told her to give herself a few minutes to calm down. I couldn't talk to her if she was going to be screaming at me the whole time. I think she's hanging out with JC."

"Are you sure you want to subject JC to that?" Chris asked wryly.

Lance grinned at him. "He can put up with you, can't he?  Besides, she likes JC."

"Which is more than I can say for me right about now," Chris muttered. "I'm pretty sure she hates me."

"No," Lance said, shaking his head. "I'm sure she doesn't. She's just surprised. She's not normally like this."

"She never really liked me," Chris continued. Lance rolled his eyes, but Chris' mutterings were cut off by Diane reentering the room.

"Am I calm enough for you now?" she asked.

Chris couldn't say he noticed a difference, but Lance nodded. "Maybe we can discuss this like adults?" he said, glancing at Chris.

"He doesn't need to be here."

Chris rolled his eyes to himself and started to stand up, but Lance put a hand on his leg and pushed him back down. "He can stay," Lance said softly. Chris recognized that tone.  He always pitied the person stupid enough to go against it.

Diane, apparently, recognized the tone too. "Fine," she said crossly, sitting down across from them.

Oh, boy. "This is not going to be fun," he said softly to himself.

Lance tossed him a smile. "Okay, so," Lance said, unsure of where to begin.

"I would like to know what you were doing when I came in here."

"Oh, that's an easy one," Lance said, trying to stay lighthearted, "I was kissing my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" The pitch of her voice raised.

Chris tried to sink into the corner of the couch. Lance winced. "Um, okay, that really didn't work the way I wanted it to."

"Boyfriend?" she asked again.

"Uh, yeah," Lance said. "He's my boyfriend."

"But in order for you to have a boyfriend, you have to be gay," Diane said, glancing at Chris and then back to Lance.

"Um," Lance said, "that's usually the way it works, yeah. Unless it's bisexuality, in which case, you know--"

"But you're not gay," Diane said.

"Uh, actually," Lance said, "I am."

"You're not supposed to be gay," she said.

Lance sighed. "I don't understand this, Mom," he said, "you've always been fine with gay people before. This has never been a problem. You've always been accepting."

"That was before they were my son," Diane practically hissed.  "What will I tell your father?"

"You won't have to tell him, I will," Lance said.

"Like you told me?" she snapped.

Lance winced. "Um," he said, "you weren't supposed to find out like that."

"Seeing you kissing...him is not exactly the way I thought this visit was going to start out." She gestured to Chris as she spoke.

Lance sighed again. "Look, Mom," he said, "let's start this from the beginning. I am gay. Chris is my boyfriend. I love him. Why can't you accept that?" Chris smiled softly to himself but tried to scoot back into the cushions again. 

"This is not what we had planned!"

"No, Mom," Lance said, "it's not what you had planned. This is my life, and right now, my life is with Chris."

Chris groaned when Justin, with impeccable timing as always, walked in the door unaware of what he was interrupting. "Hey, Lance," he said, "I saw everyone else here and your door was open, so...Hey, Mrs. Bass!"

Lance covered his eyes with his hand. "Hi, Justin," he said.

In an instant, Diane's entire demeanor changed.  Chris marveled. "Justin," she said smoothly, standing up, "how are you?"

Lance sighed from underneath his hand. "Justin," he said.

Justin kissed her cheek before glancing at Lance. "Yeah?" he asked, then paused. "Uh oh. Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes," Lance said, at the same time Diane said, "we were just finishing."

"Um," Justin glanced back and forth from mother to son before his gaze landed on Chris, who was still trying to disappear into the couch cushions. "Oh," he said, understanding. Chris nodded at him.

"I think you should go find Joey and JC," Lance said to him, looking at his mother.

"We're done," Diane said to him.

"No we're not, Mom," Lance said. "We're not going to leave this half finished. I need to talk to you about this now."  He glanced at Justin again. Justin nodded and slipped out of the room, flashing Chris a smile that was supposed to be reassuring.  Chris almost winced. It wasn't.

"Why couldn't we talk about this before, then? Why didn't you bother to tell me until I walked in on you kissing some guy--" Diane asked once Justin had left.

"Because I was afraid of you acting like this!" Lance said, gesturing at the air.  When his arm had dropped again Chris squeezed his hand before letting it go. Lance smiled at him before looking at his mother. "He isn't just some guy. I'm happy," he said.  "Chris makes me happy."

"I don't understand it," Diane muttered.

"I'm not asking you to understand it," Lance said, "I'm asking you to accept it. It's a part of me, a very important one, and I'm sorry you had to find out this way but there's no way for me to change it now.  I'm asking you to see how happy I am right now, and accept the reason for that happiness."  His voice dropped and he glanced at Chris. "Most of all, I'm asking you to still love me the same as you did before you knew."

"Lance," she said, "I still love you, of course I do."  Lance breathed a sigh of relief. "But I don't know...this is big.  I don't like it."

"You don't have to," Lance muttered, glancing at the ground. "I'd like you to, but what I want right now is for you to accept it."

Diane looked at him and sighed. "I don't know that I can," she said softly.

Chris felt his heart break when Lance sighed, looking deflated. He took Lance's hand and looked towards Diane. "You know what," he began angrily.

Lance shook his head. "Chris, please," he said.

"Look," Diane said, "I'll tolerate it, okay? For now. I need time to think."

Chris was surprised when he felt Lance's hand tense in his. "Tolerate?" Lance practically spat. "You'll tolerate it?  What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Lance--" she began, but Lance cut her off.

"No," he said, "I don't think you're understanding this.  It's a part of me, as much as any body part is.  You can't just....tolerate it like it's some blister, or something. If I had a horrible accident--"

"God forbid," Diane interjected automatically.

Lance rolled his eyes, "God forbid, and lost one of my arms, would you look at that as something to just tolerate?"

"No," she admitted.

"No," Lance repeated, leaning forward, "you would accept it as something that happened to me, it would be a part of me. If I had been born blind, would you have tolerated that? No, you would've accepted that.  Being gay is who I am, Mom. It's not just something to be tolerated."

"Lance, maybe we should..." Chris started softly, squeezing Lance's still tense hand.

Lance's jaw tightened. "I'm finished," he said, standing up. Chris shrugged and stood up with him. "You can have all the time to think you want," he said, "but I don't think I can tolerate talking much until you've accepted me for who I am."  He nodded to himself and started to walk out of the room.

Chris glanced at Diane and shrugged again. "Um," he began, "I could talk to--"

"Don't bother," she snapped, lowering her voice so Lance wouldn't hear. "This is your fault."

Chris opened his mouth to reply, but saw Lance pause in the doorway before walking away.  "I don't think so," he said softly instead, and followed Lance.  He found him leaning against the wall on the floor in the kitchen. "Hey," he said.

"What did I just do?" Lance asked, putting his head in his hands.

"You stood up for yourself," Chris said softly.

"She's never going to talk to me again, is she?" he asked.

"Of course she will," Chris said, sliding down the wall next to him.  "You're too cute not to." He pinched Lance's cheek.

Lance let out a short laugh. "I can't believe I just did that."

"Don't sweat it, man," Chris said, "you stood up for you and who you are. I'm proud of you.  She'll have to understand that."

"Thanks," Lance sighed. "I just..."

"Besides," Chris said, "I'm fairly certain it's me she'll never speak to again, not you."

"She'll speak to you again," Lance said, "eventually."

Chris laughed. "Yeah, right. She told me this was my fault."

"She said what?" Lance started to stand up.

"No, don't worry about it," Chris said, pulling him back down. "She can't hurt me." He winked.

"Well, she has a point," Lance said, "it is your fault." He grinned when Chris' jaw dropped. "Well if you weren't so damn sexy I wouldn't have had to kiss you," he said, winking. 

Chris' cheeks flushed ever so slightly before he grinned. "Well, when you put it that way..." He pecked at Lance's lips before standing up. "Actually, I will always maintain that the blame goes to Joey."

*~*~*~*~*

Chris had to admit that dinner that night was...interesting.  Not so much a good kind of interesting as the kind of interesting that people use to describe situations after an aunt called her third husband a "sneaky, lying, maggot-infested pig carcass being eaten by a slimy weasel," seemingly out of the blue before storming out of Christmas dinner.  Chris figured he may have had something similar happen once or twice.

JC, he noted, looked completely bewildered by the whole thing. Justin looked back and forth between Lance, Diane, and Chris the whole time, and Joey looked vaguely guilty. Chris allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction. Served the bastard right to feel guilty, he thought to himself, and then felt like a jerk.  A perverted jerk, he amended inside his head, because Diane kept giving him the dirtiest looks, looks that pretty much said, well, "you perverted jerk," and if she didn't stop he was sure he was going to--

"Um, Chris?" JC asked, "can you grab me another piece while you're up?"

Chris glanced at him, confused, and then realized he'd started to stand up. "Oh, um," he said, looking around the table, "sure."  He stood up the rest of the way, a little uneasy, and walked to the counter to grab JC another piece of pizza.  And the container of oregano, because JC had hung around Joey for too long and became a freak that liked to put oregano on top of his pizza.  Chris thought the whole idea was vile.  A little was okay, but not half the fucking container.  "It's not even Italian," he muttered to himself.  Joey always said it was, but Chris knew better.

"What?" JC asked.

Chris sighed. "Nothing."

"You even got me oregano," JC said, grinning, and Chris rolled his eyes.

"Greek."

"What?"

"I called you a geek," Chris fibbed.

"No you didn't," Joey put in, and Chris turned to glare at him. As if Joey wasn't in enough trouble already.  Joey looked properly chastised, and Chris turned away.

"Oregano," he muttered, feeling like a dork. "It started in Greece, not Italy.  The Italians got it after."  A perverted jerky dork.

"Oh," JC said, and paused. "Yay?"

Chris sighed and sat back down next to Lance, who offered a reassuring smile and rubbed his leg. "Never mind," he said, not looking at Diane, because he was sure she was smirking at him.

He checked all of five seconds later. She was. It wasn't just any smirk, either. She managed to make it look not only satisfied but still disapproving at the same time. He'd seen that look before.

Chris suddenly knew where Lance had gotten most of his personality traits from.

*~*~*~*~*

"So, um," JC began, as soon as Diane had left, "dinner went well."

Chris laughed out loud.  "Compared to what, C?"

Lance, who had immediately thrown himself on the couch with his head under a pillow as soon as the door closed, groaned. "I can't remember being that uncomfortable since my grandmother started giving me sex talks every time I had dinner with her."

"I'm surprised your mother didn't start," Chris said, shaking his head.  Diane had looked at him with a gleam in her eye before she left, a look that made him shudder. "I'm beginning to think she wants me castrated."

"What makes you say that?" Justin asked.

"Oh," Chris said, "I don't know. Maybe it was the snip-snip motion she kept making with her fingers every time you guys weren't looking over."

JC winced. "Ouch. What happened?"

"Joey's a moron and let Lance's mom in while we were kissing," Chris said.

"Hey, come on, I said I was--" Joey began.

"We know, Joey," Lance said, his voice muffled under the pillow. "Needless to say, she was. Um. Less than thrilled."

Chris snorted.  "That's one way to put it."

"Well she's still talking to you at least, right?" Justin asked. "I mean...you know. It could've been worse."

"Actually," Chris said, a grin sneaking onto his mouth as he glanced at Lance, "it's the other way around.  He's not really talking to her."  Lance groaned from underneath the pillow.  "You see, she--"

"They don't really need to know the whole story, do they?" Lance sighed.

"Aw, come on, you were standing up for our love," Chris said, batting his eyelashes. Lance threw a pillow at him.  Chris caught it. "Thanks, sweetie," he said. "Anyway, I'll give you the revised version. Lance didn't want her to just tolerate us, so he ranted about that for a little bit, and now he's not really talking to her, and she's going to murder me in my sleep."

"She is not--" Lance began.

"Those looks were deadly!" Chris defended himself.

"I saw some of them," Joey said, nodding.

Chris crossed his arms over his chest. "So you can do something right."

"Hey, shut up," Joey said. "Stop being such a jerk."

"I'm not being a jerk," Chris said petulantly.

"Yeah, you kind of are," JC said. "Lance's mom always thought you were weird."

"But she didn't want to kill me," Chris said.

Lance suddenly growled and stalked out of the room.

"Oops," Chris said, and followed him.

*~*~*~*~*

"I'm not thrilled with her right now," Lance said, as soon as Chris opened the door to his room.  "But that doesn't mean you need to make cracks about how much you think she wants you dead every five seconds. Because it's getting to be a little much." Chris opened his mouth but Lance, face down on the bed, continued before he could begin. "And maybe you're not really her favorite person in the world. But she's my mother. Could you at least try--"

"Okay, three things," Chris finally interrupted, looking at Lance's back, "One, believe it or not, I actually followed you to apologize. B, your mom has looked down on me since the day I met her, so forgive me for getting a little upset that my boyfriend's mother doesn't approve of me, and three, how the fuck did you know it was me? For all you know it could've been Joey."

Lance sat up and rolled his eyes. "You're a dork," he said, a ghost of a smile on his face. "One, B, three? How did I get mixed up with you?"

Chris tapped his foot impatiently. "If that's your response I could keep going," he said.

"Fine, fine," Lance said. "A, I don't believe it, two--"

"Copycat," Chris interrupted.

"Two," Lance continued, undeterred, "have you ever stopped to think that it could be your fault, too? And C, of course I knew it was you, your breathing is always screwed up when you chase me because you run up the stairs and then try to calm yourself down. It doesn't work, by the way.  And it wouldn't have been Joey, because you're mad at him and therefore will not allow him anywhere near me. Especially while I'm upset."

Chris' jaw dropped in indignation. "One, I resent the implication that you don't think I would be sincere about my intentions to apologize, B, a little but she started it, and three, bite me."

Lance rolled his eyes. "A, if you're so sincere why don't you just fucking do it, two, you're acting like a three year old, and C, I think I just proved my previous statement. The level of your maturity just astounds me," he finished dryly, the smile long gone.

Chris crossed his arms. "One, I'm sorry, then, you asshole. B, you can still bite me, three, you can bite me again, Mr. I'm-so-fucking-mature-I-run-away-when-something's-wrong."

"You know what?" Lance said, abandoning the framework of their argument, "just fuck you, okay? Why the fuck did you follow me if you were only going to be a jerk?"

"Fuck you back," Chris snapped. "I came up here to apologize and you go off on some rant about how I'm going to trash talk your mother. Jesus, maybe I don't get along with her but I hardly think I bash her on a daily basis, all right? Maybe I'm just sick of you taking her fucking side all the time."

"She's my mother!"

"Then maybe she should act like it!"

"Fuck off," Lance said vehemently.

"She shouldn't make you take sides," Chris said.

"So what if she tried to, what did I do earlier?" Lance asked. "I defended us to her. I sure as hell wasn't 'taking her side' then!"

"You shouldn't have had to in the first place, is what I'm saying," Chris said, "and what the hell does that matter, anyway, when you immediately take her side when I get upset about how she's treating me like shit during dinner!"

"You shouldn't look into every glance as her wanting you dead! You always do that and it's not fair!"

"She sure as hell doesn't like me," Chris said. "And she doesn't like us too much either, so forgive me if I take issue with that. You were pissed yourself, earlier!"

"That was before you started acting like such an asshole!"

"She's hurting you, goddammit," Chris said, before he could stop himself. "How the fuck am I supposed to act?"

Lance softened, just the slightest bit. "Look, Chris."

"Don't you see?" Chris asked. "This is making us argue like we haven't in a long time. This is exactly what she wanted." His voice became quieter as he spoke. She knew exactly what she was doing. "I don't want to lose you like this. Not the way she's trying to do it."

"Chris," Lance began, then stopped. "Oh. Chris."  He moved over so Chris could sit next to him on the bed.  "I'm sorry," he said, once Chris was sitting. He pulled him into a hug. "God. We are really messed up sometimes, aren't we?"

Chris sighed and hugged him back. "Yeah," he said, "I'm sorry too."  He pulled his head back just far enough so he could kiss Lance. "Let's try not to do that again, okay?" he asked.

Lance laughed shortly. "We can try."

Chris sighed and nodded, laying his head back on Lance's shoulder.

"I think we should try going to visit her," Lance said softly. "Let her be in her own environment, or something. Let her see that this is real. Would you be okay with that?"

Chris wrinkled his nose. "I don't know, are you...do you think that would work?"

"It would have to," Lance said firmly. "She'd have to see."

"I don't know," Chris said again. "It doesn't seem like..."

"Just for a little while," Lance said, "please?"

Chris frowned slightly. "I guess so," he said, "but contrary to what you may think, I don't really want to ruin your relationship with her."

Lance squeezed him. "I know," he said. "Thank you."

"Um, hey, guys?" JC's voice was timid. Chris turned to see him poking his head around the door. "Is everything okay? We heard yelling."

Chris pulled back from Lance. "We're okay," he said.

"For now," Lance added, and grinned when Chris elbowed him in the stomach.

"Well, as long as everything's all right," JC said hesitantly.

"Yeah," Lance nodded.

"Good," JC grinned. "One, B, three?" he asked. Chris grinned back at him.  Of course they all knew the way Chris and Lance argued with each other.

"A, two, C," Lance agreed. "For a little while, anyway."

"Until it got ugly?" JC asked.

Chris winced. "Well, yeah."

"And you're sure everything is cool?"

"Chill, C," Chris said, "we're good."

JC broke into a grin. "Well, since it's okay...hey, guys!"

"Oh God," Lance said.

JC continued shouting, undeterred, "the love is still alive! The world can continue to turn!"

Chris rolled his eyes and Lance sighed once Justin and Joey started to cheer.  "Praise Jesus!" they heard Justin shout.

Lance shook his head. "Nice job," he said to Chris.

"Oh, and you act like them being our friends is my fault."

"Well," Lance said, "you were friends with them first."

"You didn't have to be friends with them," Chris argued.

"Oh, where should I start with that one?" Lance asked.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Chris asked, indignant.

"Okay, A, there was that time where you handcuffed..."

JC sighed and went back down the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*

"There must be something wrong with me," Chris muttered. "Lion's den.  Tall building. Dark forest. Hell, dark room."

"What are you going on about?" Justin asked.

"All the dangerous things I can think of," Chris said. "And then comparing them to this. You know, A dark forest seems like a good idea right about now."

"Relax," Justin said, rolling his eyes. "You'll be fine. And even if she tries to castrate you, Lance will be there to be your knight in shining armor. Right, Lancelot?"

Lance, who'd just walked into the room, sighed. "I bet I can guess what you freaks were just talking about."

"Maybe," Justin said, giving him a bright grin. "I mean, you know, our conversations lately are just so varied."

"Hey, screw you," Chris said, swatting at him. "I don't talk about it all the time."

"Sure," Justin said, nodding. "Just most of the time. Like, twenty three hours of the day."

"That's not true," Chris protested.

"Okay, fine," Justin said. "Twenty two."

Chris nodded. "Get it right the first time from now on, man."

Lance rolled his eyes.  "I'm leaving in ten minutes, Chris. If you're coming, be in the car in five."

"Yeah, yeah," Chris said. "I'll be there."

"Don't forget your cup," Justin said helpfully. "You know, just in case. Snip."

Chris shuddered. "I hate you," he said.

Justin grinned. "Nah, you know that if you weren't hooked up with Lance you'd be jumping me in a heartbeat."

Chris rolled his eyes and started for the door. "Sure," he said. "Ooh, baby, I want your sexy body."

Justin nodded. "That's right."

Chris shook his head. "Sometimes I really think there's something severely wrong with you."

"Hey," Justin shouted as he left the room. "I bet you Lance is going to dump your ass five minutes into the trip because of your paranoia. Then you'll see, you'll come crawling back to me."

"Hey, fuzzball," Chris said, sticking his head back in the door, "that rhymed, maybe you should put it on your 'Death to Britney' album."

"Fuck you," Justin said, but he was smiling.

Chris grinned back at him. "Fuck you back. And for the record, Lance will not dump me five minutes in. He can stand me for at least ten.  Fifteen if I provide sexual favors." He wiggled his eyebrows and waited for Justin's groan.

He wasn't disappointed.

*~*~*~*~*

"You're not going to dump me, are you?" Chris asked, jiggling his leg.

Lance sighed. "If you ask me that one more time, I will."

"Well, it's just, Justin said something about you dumping me because I'm paranoid, or something, and I was just curious."

"I'm not going to dump you, Chris," Lance said, "at least not now. If you do something particulary horrendous while we're at my mother's, there's a possibility."

"Really?" Chris asked, eyes wide.

"Really," Lance affirmed, "but I know you won't go and do anything stupid, now will you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Chris said, and shifted his gaze out towards the window.

*~*~*~*~*

He wasn't sure what he was expecting when Lance's mom opened the door once they'd arrived at her house in Mississippi, but he was pretty sure that the greeting wouldn't be an open-armed one.

Diane always did like to keep people guessing.

"Lance! Chris! So glad you made it, how was the drive? You're a little later than you said you'd be."

Lance glanced over at Chris. "Um, fine, Mom," he said.  "Sorry we got in so late. The traffic was bad.  How's everything been here?"

"Oh, fine," she said, opening the door wider to let them in. "So," she said, putting an arm around Lance to pull him in, "you boys tell me how things have been, with--"

The rest of what she said was lost on Chris, because the door got shut in his face.

He sighed and waited. It was going to be a long week.

"Oh God, sorry Chris," Lance said, opening the door a few seconds later.  "I, oh my God, I can't believe she did that."

Chris shrugged with a rueful smile. "I'm sure she didn't do it on purpose," he managed.

Lance smiled and hugged him, appreciating the effort. "I'll talk to her after dinner."

Chris squeezed him back.  "Don't worry about it," he said. "Even you broke down to my charm after a while."

Lance snorted. "Sure," he said.

Chris thwapped him softly on the back of the head. "Hey, come on," he said, "I'm charming."

Diane cleared her throat behind him and he winced, something like oh, fuck running through his mind.  "We pulled out the sofa bed in the living room for Chris," she only said.

"Mom," Lance said, "Chris was going to sleep in my room, remember?"

"No," she said firmly, "you two are not going to sleep in the same bedroom."

"Mom," Lance said again.

"Lance," Chris said, touching his arm. "It's fine. Don't worry."

Lance pursed his lips but nodded. "Fine," he said, clasping Chris' hand in his own. "But come upstairs with me while I unpack."

Chris shrugged. "Okay," he said.

He could feel Diane's glare on his back long after they'd left the room.

*~*~*~*~*

Chris woke up the next morning, head fuzzy until he blinked away the bleariness. He heard voices and presumed that was what had woken him up. He'd always been a light sleeper.

"...Don't have to treat him like he's some sort of criminal..."

Chris sighed. That was Lance's voice. Despite his own opinions on the whole matter, he really didn't want to cause a rift between Lance and his mom.

"I'm not doing anything like that, Lance," Diane said. Chris got up and crept closer to the kitchen.

"Come on," Lance said, "you think I can't tell that you put him in the corner of the house that's furthest from mine?"

"Coincidence," Diane said, sounding miffed.

Lance laughed shortly. "Sure," he said. "Mom, I know that you need time. But, seriously."

"He hit you," Diance said suddenly. "Does that happen often? Is he hurting you?"

Chris' mouth dropped open and he took a step forward, careful to stay out of the doorway.

"Mom!" Lance sounded shocked. "What makes you--of course not!"

Chris supposed he should feel comforted by the fact that Lance sounded as surprised as he felt, but he wasn't.

"I saw him," Diane said, voice tight. "Yesterday, when you came in."

"That was...we were just joking around with each other, Mom. God! He's not...he would never. I can't believe you thought..."

Chris let his head hit the wall and sighed. This had been a horrible idea.

"You never know," Diane said.

"Yes you do," Lance replied, voice more annoyed than shocked. "You know Chris would never do that. And you think I would put up with it?"

"You never know," Diane repeated.

Chris sighed again and moved back to the couch, stretching out on it once more.  He had to make this woman see how much he loved Lance. But it seemed impossible.

*~*~*~*~*

Chris woke up again a little while later, still tired. The voices were still going, but this time he didn't bother trying to eavesdrop and instead coughed and made a big production out of of entering the room.  "Hey," he said, not having to fake the sleepiness that permeated his tone.

Lance turned away from his mother with a smile. "Morning," he said, standing up. "Sleep okay?"

"Yeah, it was fine," Chris said. He wandered up behind Lance and wrapped his arms around Lance's waist, squeezing with a sleepy smile. "Missed you," he said quietly, when he was close to Lance's ear. He hooked his chin over Lance's shoulder and let his eyelashes flutter against his neck. "Too empty," he added, kissing Lance's cheek before pulling away.

"I know how you feel," Lance said, grinning at him.

Chris squeezed Lance's waist one more time before releasing him to glance over at Diane. Her expression was unreadable and Chris wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad thing.  "Morning, ma'am," he said warily.

"Good morning," she said. "Excuse me."

Chris watched her walk out of the room and grimaced, covering his eyes. "She hates me," he said.

"She doesn't hate you," Lance said, and cringed. "Much."

Chris sat down at the table and started banging his head on the wood.

"No, hey, Chris, don't do that," Lance said, "I was joking, come on."

Chris groaned.  "What did I ever do to her?" he asked.

Lance shrugged and slid into the seat next to him. "She'll come around, Chris, I promise."

"What if she doesn't?" Chris asked. "I won't come between you and your family, Lance. I've always told you that."

"I know," Lance said, smiling and squeezing Chris' fingers. "And I love you for it. Sooner or later, she'll see that you're what makes me happy, okay? And until then, we'll just have to bear with it."

"Easy for you to say," Chris muttered.

"Cheer up," Lance said, kissing him quickly. "We'll figure something out, all right? It'll be okay."

Chris sighed. He still had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

*~*~*~*~*

For the next week, Chris did everything he could think of to get on Diane's good side. He forced himself to keep still whenever she was around, held back snide comments, opened doors for her, carried groceries in when she went shopping, and touched Lance as little as he could without driving himself insane.

Lance finally cornered him Saturday afternoon, their sixth day there.  "Chris," he said, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," Chris said. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Yes," Lance said. "You're acting weird."

"I'm always weird," Chris told him.

"Yeah, well, you're acting even weirder," Lance said. "What's the problem?"

"Nothing," Chris repeated. "I haven't noticed anything different."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Kiss me, then."

Chris blinked. "What?"

"You heard me," Lance said. "Kiss me."

"Okay," Chris shrugged. He glanced around the room and leaned forward.  He was stopped by Lance's hands on his shoulders.

"No, see," Lance said, "I'm right."

"What?" Chris asked, confused.

"You never used to look all over the place before we kissed. Not once we told the other guys. After them, you stopped caring. Now, all of a sudden, you're looking again? I don't buy it."

Chris shifted his weight uneasily. "Lance, no, it's not. I'm just. There's nothing, I was just."

"Don't do this, Chris," Lance said quietly. "Come on."

Chris sighed. "I don't want to mess things up between you and your mom," he said. "I don't want to make her hate me even more than she already does.  If she doesn't want to see us kissing, then..."

"You're messing things up between us," Lance said.  "I told you not to change anything. We'll be fine."

Chris shook his head. "I'm not..." he stopped. "I don't want you to look back a year from now and think about how I was the guy that ruined your relationship with your family. I don't want to be that person."

"Look, Chris," Lance said, "I can promise you, that's not going to happen. We're going to be okay. And if my mom can't accept us, yeah, it'll suck, but I'll still have you.  I thought we promised not to fight anymore."

"We're not fighting," Chris mumbled.

"Then can you work on being the normal Chris? I like him a lot better."

Chris nodded. "Okay," he said looking straight into Lance's eyes, "can I kiss you now?"

"Sure," Lance said, and grinned.

Their lips had only met for a brief moment before a throat was cleared behind them. "I knew it," Chris muttered, pulling away to bury his face in Lance's shoulder.

Lance sighed. "Hi, mom," he said, not even bothering to turn around. "You're back early."

"Hello, Lance," she said.  "I wasn't aware I needed to call ahead in my own home."

"That's not what I meant," Lance sighed again.

Chris lifted his head up from Lance's shoulder. "I'm going for a walk," he said. "I'll be back in a little while.  Please don't follow me." He squeezed Lance's hand before pulling away.

"Chris, wait," Lance said. "Don't go. Please."

"Lance," Chris said, "I have to, I...I won't be long."

Lance watched him leave, miserable. Once he heard the front door shut, he covered his eyes and faced his mother. "I hope you're happy."

"What makes you think I'd be happy?" she asked.

Lance rolled his eyes. "You're only happy when there's something wrong with him," he said. "I don't understand you. Why can't you just make an effort? He's trying his hardest to get you to accept us, him, and you won't even move an inch."

Diane shook her head. "Look, Lance," she began.

"No," Lance said, "let me talk for a second. I know this makes you uncomfortable. But how do you think he feels? I had to practically beg him to come out here, and let's not mention all the times he wanted to back out.  He's practically digging a gorge between us so that you won't feel so uncomfortable."

"Maybe he should've tried to get me to like him back before I found out, then," Diane said. "All of a sudden, he's trying now?"

Lance shook his head. "No, that's where you're wrong. You've never looked past him far enough to see.  He was right, I've been trying to stick up for you, convince him of otherwise, but you never actually did like him much, did you? Remember that night he took you out to dinner when you wanted to take me home? In the very beginning?  He convinced you of something then, didn't he? You let me stay."

"Yes, but that was--"

"And you know, the funny thing about that? He insisted upon being the one to do it. You know, he even kept most of the check he usually sent to his mother to pay for that dinner with you, to get you to let me stay, and do you remember what you said to me when you came home?"

Diane nodded slowly. "I said..."

"You turned up your nose at the restaurant he picked.  You didn't care that just about all of his money was going to support his mom and four sisters. I wonder if you even knew." Lance shook his head. "I love you, mom, but you know what? Something tells me you wouldn't have cared. Even before all this.  Chris and this group are the best things to happen to me, you know that? He is the most selfless, generous person I know and he has changed my life in more ways than you can ever imagine. And you know what? I love him.  I love him more than anything, and I'll tell you, you should really consider your words if you're thinking about trying to make me choose."

"I wouldn't," she said.

"Good," Lance told her. "Can you please try to make more of an effort with him? Can't you see how hard he's trying?"

"Look, Lance, I'll--"

"Lance."

Lance turned around at the soft voice behind him. "Hey," he said, "I thought you were on a walk."

Chris smiled slightly. "I was," he said. "But I'm lazy. Can I talk to you for a second?" 

Lance looked at his mother before turning around to face Chris. "Of course," he said, following him to the front porch.

Once they were outside, Chris took a deep breath. "I think, that maybe, I should leave.  I could call Justin, or maybe fly back, but..."

Lance shook his head. "Chris, no."

"Things are really messed up," Chris said, "and I'm making them worse. I told you I don't want to screw stuff up between you and your mother. I don't want you to have to choose.  It's not fair to you at all. Maybe if I leave, if I leave, she won't try it.  I think, maybe, she needs more time. And, you know, you're right. Things aren't...right, right now. With us. I don't want to make stuff worse."

Lance was still shaking his head. "None of this is your fault," he said. "Please, don't leave. You heard what I said, right?"

Chris nodded. "Up from 'Chris and the group,' and by the way, better things have happened to you than me, you jerk."

Lance smiled at him. "Do I lie to my mother, Chris?"

"Well, there was the time--"

"That doesn't count."

Chris grinned at him, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How can it not count? You--"

"It wasn't a lie," Lance retorted, grinning back at him. "But you know it was true, right? What I said? I love you. We can fix this."

Chris sighed. "Lance..."

"A few days," Lance said, "please. Just a few more, and we'll see how it goes? I need you here."

"Fine," Chris sighed, "but you owe me."

Lance grinned. "A thousand times," he promised.

"And I love you too," Chris added, "but you're still a jerk."

*~*~*~*~*

"You are so whipped," Justin said.

Chris shrugged, though he knew Justin couldn't see him. "Yeah, well," he said.  "We knew that already."

Justin laughed at him. "So this means I won't have to rescue you from the attack of the evil mommy, right? At least not for now?"

"Right," Chris said, and frowned. "Don't say it like that, you make me sound like a wuss."

Justin laughed at him again. "You are a wuss."

"Shut up, you ass. You're just--"

"Dude, come on. You're afraid of Lance's mom.  How is that not wussy?"

"You can only say that because she loves you. Although, you might wanna watch it, you know, being associated with me could be dangerous.  But for now, you're perfect little southern boy. And, hey, you're even straight! Movin' on up."

"Shut up," Justin said, "I am not."

Chris grinned, unable to resist.  "What, J, you're gay? Why didn't you tell me? Shucks, if I'da-known, I coulda--"

"Fuck off," Justin said, "you know what I meant.  I'm not perfect little southern boy, so you can just--"

"Oh, come on," Chris said, "you're best friends with your mother."

"That doesn't mean anything," Justin said.

"Oh, it doesn't, does it," Chris began, but Lance stepping into the room interrupted him.

"Are you done harassing Justin yet?" Lance asked. "Because it's time for dinner."

"Okay," Chris said, and turned back to the phone. "Time for me to go eat some good ol' home cookin', J," he said.

"Good luck," Justin said cheerfully. "Don't eat the poisoned apple, or anything."

"There will be no poisoned apple," Chris said. "Poisoned grits, maybe." That earned him a smack on the back of the head from Lance. "Ow, fine, sorry," he said, wounded.

Justin made a sound that sounded suspiciously like that of a whip cracking.

"Oh, fuck you, mama's boy," Chris said, "don't get yourself tangled in the apron strings."

"Don't get your balls chopped off by the evil mother," Justin shot back.

"You suck," Chris said. "Shut up about that."

"No, I believe you're the one that does the sucking, Chris," Justin said. He laughed at himself.

"Oh, fuck you again," Chris said, "I hope you trip and your dick gets caught in a meat grinder."

Chris could practically hear him wince. "Fine, you win, old man. But just because you're about to walk into the plot of the evil mother.  And because you're so irritable, is it because of all the whip marks?"

"Oh, you fucking--" Chris paused. "The fucker. He hung up on me!"

Lance rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry, did you not get the last word? Would you like to call him back just so you can insult him some more?"

"Actually," Chris began.

"No," Lance interrupted. "Absolutely not. That's not even funny." He grabbed Chris' shirt and pulled him towards the door. "Dinner. And next time you're on the phone in my house, try not to say 'fuck' every other word, okay? It would make things that much more pleasant for everyone involved."

Chris grunted. "He started it."

*~*~*~*~*

"So, Lance," Diane said at the dinner table, "your father and I usually go to church at 8:00, but if you...you and Chris would rather sleep in we could go to the 10:30 service, if that would be better."

"Um, Mom," Lance said, glancing at Chris across the table. "Chris doesn't really go to church. I told you that."

Chris finished chewing and swallowed slowly. "Um," he said, "I could--"

"No," Lance said, "you don't have to, right, Mom?"

Lance's father cleared his throat loudly. "Hey, Chris, do you think you could pass me the potatoes?"

"Sure," Chris said, and wondered how Diane would feel if he suddenly kissed her husband.

Jim hadn't really done much one way or the other concerning Lance and Chris; from what Lance had told him, Chris figured that he didn't really care either way, so long as his son was happy. Surprisingly enough, he hadn't really reacted to the news, either, except to give Chris a rather petrifying lecture on what exactly would happen if he so much as looked at Lance with anything but good intentions. Chris couldn't help but wish some of that nature would rub off on Diane, or maybe that Jim would say something, but then again...Chris glanced across the table.

Diane had another gleam in her eyes, and Chris looked back at Jim. He wouldn't want to say a word against this woman when she was on the warpath, either.

He passed the potatoes and decided that it would probably be a bad idea to kiss Jim.

*~*~*~*~*

"He could have come," Diane whispered during the service, "he wanted to, didn't he?"

Lance sighed. "He wanted to make you happy. But he's not about changing himself for other people, even though he may not seem like it. I'm just reminding him." He smiled to himself and turned his attention back to what was going on.

He was startled when his phone started to vibrate. He thought he'd turned it off.  A quick glance at the display showed his home number.  "Chris," he said softly, shaking his head. Diane looked at him disapprovingly. "I'm sorry," he said, a little louder, "I thought it was off." Part of him thought it was probably important if Chris was calling when he knew Lance was in church, but another glare from his mother made him turn the phone off and put it away.

A few minutes later his pager started to vibrate.  He pulled it out and winced, standing up. "What are you doing?" his mother asked.

"It's Chris," he began, "911. He'd only do that with this pager if it was important; the only ones that have this number are the other guys and Johnny. Trust me, it's important." He walked outside, feeling a wave of guilt as the minister speaking glanced his way.  He crossed himself self-consciously as he left the building and called his house.

"Took you long enough," Chris said by way of answering the phone.

Lance winced. Chris sounded more than a little irritated. "I'm sorry," he said, "I'm at Church. You have to know how that goes."

"Okay," Chris said shortly. "Hey, someone wants to talk to you."

Lance didn't even bother trying to apologize again as he heard the shuffling as the phone changed hands. "Mr. Bass?" a man asked.  He straightened up.

"Yes, that's me," he said. "Who is this?"

"This is Dave Stringfield, with Metrocell Security," the man said, "I'm afraid it looks like we've had a security breach, and this Mr. Kirkpatrick here says he knows you, is that true?"

"Oh, of all the..." Lance muttered to himself. "Yes, I know him," he said, louder.

"Okay," the man said, "well, there's a code, and if you have it, we can pretty much just forget this ever happened, but otherwise..."

Lance sighed. "I do, if you'll just hold on a minute."  He searched through his wallet and sighed with relief when he found it.  He spoke with the man for a few brief minutes. He sounded stressed, though Lance couldn't blame him. The image of Chris, scowling, just having been handcuffed to a bedpost, and probably still in his pajamas, didn't really paint a pleasant picture for him. He thanked the man and the phone was soon passed back to Chris. "Um," he said, "hey?"

"Hi," Chris said flatly.

"Um," Lance said. "What happened?"

"Well, Lance, it goes like this," Chris began, and Lance almost regretted asking.  "So, I wake up to say hi to my boyfriend, maybe do something nice, end up getting handcuffed to his bed. I think, okay, sort of kinky, but okay. I'm a little annoyed, you know, because this boyfriend leaves without me.  So I have to practically sprain my fucking toe getting the key off the edge of the bed, then, just because someone enjoys my pain, it falls off. So then I spend a few minutes getting it that way."

Lance winced but didn't say anything.

"So then, finally, through ways and means that do not need to be discussed here, I uncuffed myself without doing any damage to your precious bedpost.  So I decide to go downstairs.  And then, wow, imagine my surprise when I open your bedroom door to hear your alarm go off. Let me tell you, that was fun. You think you could rig it so it could go off again tomorrow? Or maybe I could set your car alarm off, that would be fun and exciting too."

Lance sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, "I didn't think the alarm was on."

"Okay," Chris said, "okay, but why the fuck does it go off when the bedroom door opens? Holy shit, man, I almost had a heart attack."

Lance shrugged. "That's just the way it's programmed, I guess," he said.

"Yeah?" Chris said, "well, you know, the next time you guys leave me alone, you think you could fix that? Because, you know. Not much fucking fun, Lance."

Lance took a deep breath. "Look," he said, "I'm sorry. My mom must've--" He stopped when Chris sucked in a breath. "Oh, shit. My mom."

"No," Chris said, "no, I'm sure she...oh, fuck. I'm through trying. We both know what happened. What the fuck, Lance. I don't like having people look at me like I'm a criminal breaking into your fucking house.  I'm in my pajamas, for Christ's sake."

Lance grimaced and glanced up, crossing himself again. "Um. Could you do me a favor and not say it like that? Because, um, I'm here, and--"

"Oh, sure, sorry," Chris said, not sparing him an ounce of sarcasm.  "I'll try my best not to--"

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?" Lance said. "I just. I'll talk to her when I go back in there, figure stuff out.  She might've just forgotten..."

"No, don't feed me excuses just yet," Chris cut in.  "But hey, you know, at least it was a good prank, right? Ha ha, what a laugh. Though, you know, it's something I would think to play on, you know, Justin, not my son's damn boyfriend."

"Let me talk to her, okay?" Lance asked. "I'll let you know."

"Fine," Chris said, "I'll be here. Not sure how long," he added wryly, and to Lance it sounded like he was talking to himself.

"No, hey," Lance said, "don't say that. I'll figure things out."

"Sure," Chris said.  "Bye."

"Wait," Lance said, "I love you."

"Love you too," Chris said, and hung up.

Lance sighed.

*~*~*~*~*

After a stilted dinner conversation later that evening, Chris dragged Lance out on a walk with him, his reason being that there wasn't much else to do. Chris almost worried about acting like a jerk, but remembered his earlier conversation with Justin and thought better of it. Lance was smiling more, at least, so that made him happy.

"So, hey," Lance said softly, "I think we should probably think about leaving, you know, tomorrow or the next day. Just, because..." he trailed off.

Chris squeezed his hand before letting go. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I want you to know, I'll stay here as long as you feel like you need to."

Lance smiled in the dark. "I know you will," he said. "But...I don't think we're gonna be able to get far with her, you know? My dad's okay, but...she just won't change."

"If you're sure," Chris said. "I'm behind you."

Lance smiled at him again. "Maybe I should send Justin a fruit basket. He must've had some good things to say."

"Justin is a fruit basket," Chris muttered.

Lance squeezed his shoulders. "Of course he is, and you always win, don't you?"

Chris stuck his tongue out. "Of course I do," he said.  "He thinks he wins, but that's because--"

"You let him think so. I know," Lance said.

Chris stuck his tongue out again and this time Lance grabbed it. "'Ey, leggo."

"You should watch what you do with this," Lance said, raising his eyebrows. "Someone could misinterpret your actions." He let go.

"Yeah? Misinterpret this," Chris said, and kissed him.

Lance pulled back with a laugh. "Well, that could be interpreted a few ways. It could be--" the sudden sober look on Chris' face quieted him.

"Please tell me this is a nightmare," Chris said. "Or that I'm wrong.  This stuff happens in movies, doesn't it?" He really hoped he was wrong, and waited for Lance to turn around and see the group of unhappy looking men behind them.

"Oh, shit," Lance said softly.

"Yeah," Chris said, "so I guess I'm not wrong." He squeezed one of Lance's shoulders.  "I guess running away would be kind of pointless."

"I guess," Lance said, and squeezed back.

One of the men took a step forward.

Chris shoved Lance behind him and waited.

*~*~*~*~*

"What did you do to him?" Diane asked.

Chris didn't say anything and instead walked in, placing Lance gingerly on the couch.

"What did you do?" Diane repeated.

Chris brushed a hand through Lance's hair. "I didn't do anything," he finally said, turning towards her. "You really think I did this? You really think that little of me?"

"Well," she asked, "who else would have done it?"

"Oh, I don't know," Chris said angrily, "I couldn't see real well, but it wouldn't surprise me if one of them was your next door neighbor. They're all about as open minded as you, it seems. And even if I was that much of an asshole, you think I would really beat myself up, too?"

Lance stirred and Chris turned toward him instantly. "...Chris?"

"Hey, yeah, it's me, Lance," Chris said softly. "We're both okay, but I want to take you to the hospital real quick, just to get you checked out, okay?"

"Don't wanna," Lance mumbled.

"I know," Chris said, "but, real quick, just for me?"

"Okay," Lance sighed, and Chris gave a sigh of relief with him. Lance's eyes started to close.

"No, no, baby, don't go to sleep, okay? If you have a concussion it'll be dangerous."

"You said we were okay," Lance protested, letting his eyes drift shut again.

Chris moved his face from side to side. "I know, but just in case," he said.  "Keep your eyes open."  He looked towards Diane and now Jim, who'd also entered the room. "I'm taking him to the hospital," he said.  "There's no point pressing charges, we don't know who it was or what they were even doing there--"

"It wasn't me," Diane said.

Chris turned his eyes on her, quick and cold. "I didn't say it was," he said. "Apparently I think higher of you than you of me. We're going. If you want you can come too."

"I'll drive you," Jim said, "you shouldn't be driving." He paused. "And I don't like the look of that wrist. What happened to it?"

Chris glanced at it. It was a little sore. He shrugged. "I'm okay," he said, "I think it got stepped on or something."

"I'll drive," Jim said again.

Chris nodded once, not in the mood to argue, and picked Lance up again. "I'm gonna need you to hold on tight around my neck, okay?" he said.

"Okay," Lance mumbled sleepily, pressing his face into Chris' neck.

Chris squeezed him. "Don't fall asleep," he warned, "or I'll tickle you."

"'M awake," Lance said, opening his eyes.

Chris smiled a little and carried him out to the car, sitting in the backseat with him and not even looking up when Diane slid into the seat next to Jim.  "Stay awake," he reminded Lance.

"I know," Lance said.

"What happened?" Jim asked.

Chris shrugged. "There were a bunch of guys. They saw us kiss. They didn't like it, I guess. We fought 'em off for a little while and then he got punched in the head. I tried to keep him out of it but he wouldn't let me.  Wake up, sweetie."

"I'm awake," Lance said irritably.

"Sure," Chris said.

"So you fought them off by yourself?" asked Jim.

Chris shrugged again. "Yeah, pretty much. I know how to fight."

They were silent the whole ride, with the exception of Chris talking intermittently to Lance to keep him from falling asleep.

Diane said nothing.

*~*~*~*~*

Once arriving at the hospital, Lance was whisked away and one of the doctors fretted about Chris' wrist and made him go in for x-rays.

"Come on," he tried to protest, "wouldn't it be obvious if it was broken? I mean, I know how broken wrists feel. They hurt. This doesn't really hurt. Come on."

As his luck would have it, that was the cue for it to start hurting and he grudgingly agreed to getting x-rays and a cast. They even insisted on stitches for a cut in his forehead, one he hadn't even noticed.  He figured he'd piss them off by asking about Lance every thirty seconds, but gave that up after the nurse said "you'll be able to see him in a few minutes, sir," for the seventh time without even the slightest trace of annoyance. It just wasn't fun when people didn't care. Though he figured the constant twitching kind of got on her nerves. By the time he was done, Lance was set up in a little room, apparently asking for him.

Chris made his way down to the room and stopped outside, hearing voices.  He had a knack for overhearing things, he figured.  He felt a wave of relief wash over him as he saw Lance sitting up, apparently more alert than he'd been just a couple hours earlier.  He watched them, and wondered how two people so similar could be so different. Lance was just like his mother, to be sure...but, of course, Lance didn't exactly mind the gay thing, which was good, Chris thought to himself with a smile.

"...Mom, you don't seem to understand that none of this is his fault at all. He didn't beat me up, I promise. It's ridiculous for you to even think so, the way it would be ridiculous for me to think that you asked those guys to be there."

"But if he hadn't kissed you..."

"What we do is our business," Lance said firmly. "Some people don't like that, and those people happened to be there. I don't think you had anything to do with it beyond maybe talking about it with a few people who decided, of their own accord, to stake us out, but I know you didn't have anything to do with either of us getting hurt. So you can stop worrying about that, and I'd like to think you'd stop blaming Chris about it.  I don't know what I would've done without him there, and he kept trying to keep me out of it. I'm surprised he's not hurt more than he is."

"I'm scrappy like that," Chris said, entering the room.

Lance brightened instantly. "Chris, hey, come here."

Chris walked to the bed and hugged him the best he could, pressing his face into Lance's collarbone. "I'm so glad you're okay," he whispered, not wanting Diane to see the moment between them but unable to hold himself back. "I was so worried..."

Lance gave a laugh. "Me too," he said, wrapping an arm around him.

Chris pulled back and tried to surreptitiously wipe his eyes, his emotions getting the better of him.  "So, um, they say you have a minor concussion, your dad told me."

Lance sighed. "Yeah."  He looked towards his mother. "Ma, do you think you could..."

"Sure," she said, "I'll go speak with your father."

Once she was gone Chris leaned back down and kissed him. "I love you," he said.

Lance traced the stitches in Chris' forehead with the tips of his fingers. "I love you too. What do you say, once I get out of here, we go home, okay? Hang out with the other guys for a while."

Chris smiled. "Okay," he said.

"So," Lance said, "are you still blaming everything on Joey?"

Chris shrugged. "I dunno, man, a lot of shit happened because of his idiocy."

Lance rolled his eyes. "You know, she would've found out sooner or later."

"But I would've rather sat her down, and you know, had a conversation, instead of her walking in on us making out," Chris pointed out.

"We had a conversation," Lance replied, "remember? I don't think that worked out too well either."

"That was after the making out," Chris said. "Though, I guess, at least she knows. And it's not like she liked me to begin with."

Lance sighed, but this time didn't argue. "Well, you win some, you lose some. Joey will be happy you've forgiven him..."

"I never said I forgave him," Chris said.

"He felt really bad," Lance offered.  "Even when I lied and told him that you didn't care anymore, he didn't believe me."

"Because you can't lie to us," Chris said with a grin. "And, what, you've been calling him?"

"Oh, come on, like you haven't called Justin every day to bitch about what's been going on."

Chris sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine. And for the record, I forgave him a long time ago. But he better be careful."

"From now on, when he opens a door, he'll find out who it is first," Lance promised.

Chris grinned. "He better, or I'll kick his ass pretty good, man."

"I'm sure you will," Lance said. He shook his head. "I can't believe you kicked those guy's asses.  There had to have been like six or seven of them, and I got knocked out pretty early."

Chris shrugged. "They made me mad. Let's not talk about them, okay?"

"Okay," Lance said, "my hero." He winked when Chris shook his head. "So, hey. Wanna get the hell out of here tomorrow?"

Chris smiled. "Yeah," he said.

*~*~*~*~*

"I'm driving home," Chris said, "I know how to drive with a broken wrist. Besides, the car's automatic.  I only need one hand to drive. And there's no way in hell I'm letting you drive with a head injury."

Lance rolled his eyes. "How sweet," he said.

Chris grinned mischievously. "Nah," he said, "I'm being totally selfish here. I don't want you to get us both killed."

"Again, I repeat, how sweet," Lance said.

"You know, I'd rather you stay for a few more days," Jim said, "you never know what could happen."  He put one of Lance's bags in the trunk. "And I'd feel better after you both rested."

"I know, Dad," Lance said, "but it's time for us to go.  Make sure she knows she's welcome to visit anytime."

Chris put the last bag in the trunk. "You've been great, Jim," he said, shaking his hand with his good hand. "Hope to see you soon."

Jim smiled. "Take care of my son," he said.

"You know I will," Chris said with a grin.

Lance rolled his eyes but gave his father a hug.  "Thanks, Dad," he said. "I'll call when we get back."

"You better," Jim said. "It was nice having you here. Too bad it wasn't more...enjoyable."

Chris grinned as he sat down in the driver's seat. "You win some, you lose some," he said.  "At least we've come to a sort of...understanding. Maybe she'll come around."

"Maybe," Jim said, "see you soon," he added, shutting the door.

Lance shut his own and smiled at Chris. "So?"

"Home we go," Chris said.

"Yeah," Lance said, "home we go."

When they drove away, Lance didn't look back.

*~*~*~*~*

"So, hey, you didn't think, you know, maybe we'd like to know when our best friends get beat up and put in the hospital and shit?" Chris winced. JC looked a little annoyed. "And, neither of you called me, thanks a lot. I had to hear everything through the stupid *NSYNC phone chain that doesn't actually work, anyway." Okay, so he sounded more than a little annoyed.

"Sorry, C," Justin said. I called you a few times, didn't I?"

JC snorted. "Twice," he said.

"I called you once," Joey offered.

"And that was to complain about Chris still being mad at you, thanks a bunch," JC said. "Boy, it's nice to feel in the loop, guys."

"If it makes you feel better, C," Chris said, "Diane didn't try to get you arrested. And I'm pretty sure you're the only one she actually likes, so she probably won't try to do anything diabolical to you any time soon. And, I would've called you guys, you know, except I was kind of worried about the possibility of brain damage and all."

"You already have brain damage," JC sniffed indignantly.

Chris shook his head. "You've spent too much time with Justin. The pouting thing? All right, how bout this. I promise, next time I get attacked by someone's mother you'll be the first to know."

"Good," JC said. Chris grinned at him.  "You better watch it, if she only likes me."

"What, she'll try to fix Lance up with you? I won't let that happen."

"Well, I dunno, Chris," Justin pointed out, "JC is more of the boy next door type."

"And you're not someone I'd want to bring home to mom," JC added.

"Well, Lance did, fuckheads," Chris said, "I think that counts for something."

"Well, that was kind of my fault," Joey said.

"I can still kick your ass," Chris said pointedly.  "And, you, Justin, don't think you're safe. I swear to  God, this cast is a deadly weapon. As for you, JC, well, you better watch it or I might just lick you. Or tickle you. Or--" Chris broke off when he glanced at Lance, who'd spend most of the conversation hiding his face in his hands. Chris grinned and plopped onto his lap. "Do you not like this conversation?"

"Oh, no," Lance said, "I love it. Can't you tell?" He rolled his eyes.

"So, hey," Chris said, "are we all set on the whole we-didn't-call-Joey-is-no-longer-on-my-shit-list-but-Justin-is-still-a-tool thing? Because I haven't exactly had time with my boyfriend here for a while, and I'd kind of like some."

"Okay, by 'having time,' do you mean sex? Because in that case, you don't even have to ask us to leave. And, also, I'm not a tool," Justin added.

"Yes, I mean sex, and yes, you are," Chris said. "But we still like you okay." He grinned at Lance, who'd covered his face again, and kissed him.

"Don't mind us," JC said loudly, "don't worry, we're leaving. Leaving leaving. Go ahead; feel free to have sex in the middle of your living room. You guys are sick, some of us like to sit on that couch."

Chris pulled away long enough to grin. "Maybe you shouldn't sit on it next time you come over," he suggested.

"Ew," Justin said, "ew. So leaving, right now."

Chris turned back to Lance as he heard the door open.  "Where were we?"

"Oh," Lance smiled, "well--"

"Um, hey guys?" Joey called out, "hate to interrupt, but, um. Lance. It's. uh. Your mom."

Chris groaned. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Joey, is she here?" Lance asked.

"Um," JC said, coming back into the room, "yeah. Joey's talking to her now, and she said something about starting off on the wrong foot, and. Apologizing, and. Well. She wants to talk to you guys. Um. So, you might want to not have sex, just yet."

"Every time," Chris said, "I was just getting some action, and then..."

"Oh, yeah," Lance said, "like she really drove all the way from Mississippi just so she could interrupt us."

"I wouldn't put it past her," Chris grunted.

"Oh, come on," Lance said, "how could you possibly think that that's what she's doing here?"

"Okay," Chris said, grinning, "One..."

Email me