Chapter 28

 

It had been a while since he had been this angry.  Sure he had been upset, confused, frustrated, especially in the past month or two, hell the past year, but now, now it was different.  It was a different kind of anger, an anger that was pure.  Before he would get angry and then wallow in self blame and pity, claiming that he deserved such treatment or that in some way it had originally been his fault.  But this wasn’t.  This was reporters overstepping their boundaries, purposefully being assholes.  This was radio interviews trying to get under his skin.  This was the fact that of course, the fucking day before one of the most important performances of his life he would get the flu.  He didn’t understand it.   He wasn’t trying to run himself thin.  He was sleeping and getting exercise, even taking vitamins.  And now he felt like shit and had a headache.  It was late, he was hungry but he didn’t want to eat.  He was pissed.  Pissed beyond belief.  They asked him questions about Britney over and over and he was tired of it.  He was beyond her, over her.  And then they asked him if he was single.  He said yes, and they asked him who his dream girl would be.

 

That was it.  It broke it for him and he wanted to stand up and stomp out and leave.  But he couldn’t.  He had to stay there and have them ask him why he was trying to be like Michael Jackson, why he broke up ‘Nsync, why he was trying to be black.  His single had been released onto radio earlier that month and while some people liked it, others…others didn’t and he expected that.  But he forgot how harsh critics could be.  And it hurt a lot more now that he was by himself and really trying to do something special and different with his talent.

 

“Could this fucking elevator go any slower?”  He groaned and waited for the elevator to come to the lobby.  One of them was out of order.  He thought it was ridiculous.  One of the nicest hotels in all of New York and a fucking elevator was out of order.

 

“We can take the stairs.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at Trace as the door dinged and he walked in and rested his head against the interior of the elevator, leaning his side against it.  He felt like shit.  His head felt like it was swimming in a swamp or a balloon that was about to burst and his throat was sandpaper.  He knew he didn’t want to rely too heavily on a back track during his performance at the VMAs and he didn’t want to cancel.  He couldn’t cancel.

 

He couldn’t.

 

It was a horrible day and it was only going to get worse.  He knew Johnny would be upstairs waiting for him when he got to his room and would probably lecture him about something and then tell him that he’d have to get up early the next day for a doctor’s appointment.  He had too much bull shit to do and the only thing he really cared about was getting in bed and falling asleep. He wanted to be completely alone and get away from the entire world. 

 

He wanted to go home.

 

The elevator came to a quick stop and it made his stomach churn for a bit.  He followed Eric out of the elevator. Trace was behind him on his cell phone.  Justin over heard the conversation and didn’t understand it.  Trace laughed and said “see ya in a second” into the phone.  He almost turned to ask Trace what the hell was up, to tell him he was in no mood for some party.  But he didn’t even want to be pulled into another conversation.

 

He didn’t want to talk.  He just wanted to be alone. 

 

The door opened up and he could hear the TV going and people laughing inside.  He knew Johnny was there and knew there was no way he was going to be able to bypass him and go straight to his room without causing a scene.  He pulled off his coat when he got in the door and let it drop to the ground.  Then he walked further into the suite and pulled off his belt, took off his shoes and threw his phone out of his pocket down to the carpeted floor next to his belt and shoes.  Life fucking sucked.

 

“Hey Justin, feeling better?”

 

He looked up to say some smart ass comment to his manager.  Of course, he didn’t feel better. Couldn’t he tell by just looking at him?  He was going to look up, say something and then march off to his room, slam the door and fall into his bed.

 

But he couldn’t say anything.  He swallowed the scratchy lump in his throat and his shoulders fell and he sighed. 

 

She was sitting there, looking cute, in just jeans and a t-shirt, with her hair pulled back.  She was sitting on a chair, opposite to where Johnny and Mike were sitting on the couch talking about something.  He had no idea she was going to be there.  Was she supposed to be there?  He had talked to her before he came to New York and things had been weird between them.  She would be warm with him one minute, talking about how she missed him and then completely closed off the next.  She was confusing the hell out of him.  He thought she said she had all these tests, and she knew he had all this promo to do and said she didn’t want to bother him.

 

So he told her he’d call her if he got the chance to hang out.  Well he never called her because he had yet to get the chance and probably wouldn’t for the rest of his stay.  And now she was there, staring at him, biting her lip.  Expecting something.

 

He didn’t know what to do.  He didn’t know whether to be happy or concerned.  If, if she was going to be normal and if she just wanted to lay around with him, then that was fine.  But if it was going to become a thing, some confused argument that left them both nauseous, then he didn’t want her there.  He looked at his best friend who was making a point to avoid his eyes. 

 

The bastard set this up.

 

He was pissed even more now, and he rolled his eyes, sighed and shuffled over to his room.  He didn’t slam the door like he wanted to, but pushed it so that it closed a little.  He walked over and fell down against his bed.  His legs were halfway dangling off and his face was embedded in the mattress.  He closed his eyes and grabbed the hat off his head and threw it somewhere else in the room.  He seriously hadn’t felt this shitty in years.  He was angry, depressed, sick and now confused, and he didn’t want to have to deal with any of their problems or their relationship shit.  He breathed and realized one of his nostrils was completely stopped up, not taking in any air and every time he breathed through his mouth, he wheezed. 

 

He didn’t want her to walk in there and want to talk about the dream shit and then push him away and tell him she wanted to forget everything and have sex.  He would like to have sex with her, but not like it had been ever since all this drama happened. 

 

He had been in New York a few weeks before and they had had sex, a lot of it actually and she seemed to enjoy it.  He was happy, he thought they were getting better.  And then for the last two days of his stay she barely kissed him.  It annoyed and confused him and he hated the feeling.  He wanted to work through their problems.  He knew some of this was his fault, knew the dream shit was his fault, but she had to make some effort, too.  He had more important things on his mind now, he had his career to worry about and he needed her support.

 

He needed her to believe him when he told her he loved her.  He could tell when she lied and when she didn’t believe him.  And that hurt him deeply and easily ruined his day and he couldn’t deal with it that night.  It was too much.  His day had already been horrible and he didn’t have the energy to put all this effort into a conversation that wasn’t going to lead to any solid conclusion.

 

He sighed and heard the door click behind him.  He pushed himself up against the pillows and hugged one against his chest, not looking at the doorway, still lying on his stomach.  “Sorry I’m an asshole.”

 

“Did I do something wrong?”

 

He rolled over, his back aching as he did and he looked at her.  She was standing by the door, hands by her sides, her large eyes just staring at him.  She looked beautiful and he felt like shit for being so angry towards her.  She hadn’t done a damn thing.  She was as confused and frustrated and upset about this situation as he was.  “No…I just…”

 

She smiled a little and turned up her nose, picking on him. “They told me you were sick.”

 

“Can’t you tell?”  He narrowed his eyes at her and crossed his arms over his chest.  He felt hot and wished someone would turn on the damn A/C.  “Or can you not hear my wonderful voice?”

 

He coughed a little bit and looked away from her, rolling his eyes at himself and the entire situation.  He knew she was walking towards him and knew she was probably going to bitch at him for being so grumpy towards her.  But he felt like he had a damn good reason to be grumpy.  The weight on the bed shifted and he could feel that she was a few feet from him, not moving, laying on the bed next to him.

 

He looked at her little feet that were covered with cute blue flats and finally moved his eyes to her face.  Her arms were crossed just like his but she was smiling.  She shook her head and laughed.  “You’re a dork.”

 

That pissed him off.  Here he was sick and she was cracking jokes.  Couldn’t she tell he wasn’t in the mood for this shit?  “Excuse me?”

 

She moved to sit Indian style and he looked away from her because she was still smiling and seeing her like that was too nice or something, and he wanted to just stay pissed off and angry.  He didn’t know why, but he did.  “You’re pouting like a little baby and giving me attitude, and I came over to surprise you and brought you some good yummy, cheesy potato soup and you’re just gonna lay here and be mean.”

 

“Why the hell are you here Darcy?”  He said in a biting tone. 

 

She scoffed and put her hands up.  “I tried calling you today and couldn’t get through, so I called Trace and he told me you’ve been having a really horrible time here.  So I asked if it would be ok if I just came over to stay the night, just to give you a break and have someone baby you and make you feel better.  He said it would be a good idea.”  He glanced at her and she rolled her eyes and started to push herself off the bed.  “But maybe it wasn’t.  So I can just go home.”

 

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” He said quickly, trying to excuse himself for his rude behavior but realizing that wouldn’t really do the trick with her.

 

She stopped moving and sat at the end of the bed.  “I really don’t care.  You get me sick and I don’t have to go to class.”  She smiled and then moved to crawl back up the bed near him.  She laid down on her stomach right next to his body, holding herself up by her elbows and grinning at him.

 

“You’re ridiculous.”  He rolled his eyes.

 

She leaned in for a moment and kissed his nose and he pulled away like she was disgusting him.  “You’re cute.”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Gladly…”  Before he could think, her mouth was on his and she was kissing him sweetly.  He finally had to uncross his arms and put his hands up by her face. 

 

He pulled her back a little and said, “Darcy…”  But she leaned back in, moving her body even closer to his and running her hand against his head for a moment, her fingers in his hair.  She kissed him deeply and he finally pulled her away and said, “Stop it.” It was ridiculous because he didn’t want to kiss her because his mouth felt gross and he was sick, but he found himself sucked in and kissing her back.  She reached over, put her arms around him and pulled him over so that he was laying on her a little bit.

 

He sighed at the feeling and even though he wanted to just wallow in his misery he couldn’t help it.  He started to feel a little better, a little less angry and soon moved to put his arms around her and leaned his head willingly against her shoulder.  She was running her nails against his scalp and it felt so good.  Suddenly, he really was glad to have her there.  Before he was just being stupid and grumpy.  Now he felt pathetic for acting like such a child.  “I’m sorry, I’m…”  He sighed and held her tighter.  “I’m glad you’re here.”

 

“Look at me…”  He moved his head and looked up at her.  She was beautiful.  He managed a smile and she said to him, “What can I do for you?”

 

“Nothing, I’m just glad you’re here.”  He pulled her into hug and rolled so he was lying on his back.  Resting on her the way he was made him feel weak or something, like she was his mother.  But having her lay on him this way made him feel a little better and made him feel a little more in control.  He had been so out of control lately, in everything.  “I’ve had the worst fucking day.”

 

“Are you hungry?”

 

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I can eat.  My throat hurts so bad.”

 

She pushed herself up and kissed him quickly and smiled at him.  “Just sit here.  Why don’t you change into some comfy clothes?  I’ll be right back.”

 

“Ok…”  He didn’t question her and watched as she pulled herself off the bed and walked to the door, closing it behind her as she left.  When she opened the door the noise was loud outside and he wondered what the hell everyone was doing out there.  He laid there for a few minutes just resting and finally found the energy to sit himself up a bit.  He pulled off his shirt and undershirt and tossed it over on the floor, then lifted his hips and tugged off his jeans and then his socks, kicking them all off the end of the bed.  He felt better immediately.  It wasn’t as warm and to be out of his clothes immediately relaxed him. 

 

Shortly after she returned, laughter blaring into the room as she opened the door and then ceasing as she shut it.  She came in with a bowl in one hand and a bottle of water shoved up under one of her arms.  She laughed, coming over to set the bottle on the nightstand.  “I didn’t say get naked.”

 

“Well, this is more comfortable.  And I’m not naked.”

 

“Be careful then.”  She said, handing him the bowl.  “This is hot.”  He watched her as she walked around his room, picking up his clothes from the floor and then marching into the bathroom and coming back a few moments later with some medicine.  She set it on the nightstand and he blew on the soup in his spoon and then took a sip.  It was good, thick and creamy and it soothed his throat.  She sat on the edge of the bed there beside him and watched him eat.  He found himself just staring back at her.

 

She had her hair pulled back but it was down over one of her shoulders in a wavy ponytail.  He didn’t think she had any make up on but her face was full of color, and she looked beautiful and clean and happy and it made him fall in love with her all over again.  Just sitting there sick, eating soup, watching her was perfect and meant the world to him.

 

It made him smile at her and he said, “You look really pretty.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

He laughed a bit.  “I look like shit, don’t I?”

 

“No, you look tired and sick.”

 

He sighed and moved his eyes to his soup, turning his wrist and letting the liquid in his spoon splatter back into the bowl.  “I look like shit.  I have to perform tomorrow Darcy, in front of like…everyone.  And I’m gonna sound like shit and look like…”

 

She leaned in a bit and put her fingers over his mouth.  “Hush…let’s not think about it.”

 

He licked his lips, sat up and hit his head back against the wall.  He didn’t need to hear that right then, and he sighed and moved his eyes to hers, “Why do you always do that?  You always don’t wanna think about anything bad.  Well it’s not gonna work this time.”  She was staring at him a little shocked.  He looked down at his soup. “I’m nervous as hell and I’m sick and I’m pissed off about all my damn interviews today and then there’s all this bull shit we’re going through, and it’s completely unfair to me right now.”

 

“I’m sorry,” her voice was quiet.  “Am I making it worse?”

 

“No dammit, don’t do that.”  He moved his hand and touched her face.  “Don’t blame yourself.  I just have a lot on my mind and all this interview and press shit is making it horrible and then I’m sick and…”  He laughed a little and dropped his hand from her cheek and used it to get another spoon full.  “Next thing you know I’ll get my fucking period.” 

 

She laughed out loud and fell over on the bed, her smile lighting up the room.  “We’ll be on the same cycle. I’m supposed to get mine in a few days!”

 

“I love your smile.”  He laughed and scraped the bottom of the bowl, realizing he just scarfed down the soup.  It was good and it was warm and it filled him up quickly.  He felt a lot better now, a bit more awake and his headache was starting to go away. 

 

“I love you.”  She said, looking at him directly, looking…happy.

 

He sucked in a breath.  He hadn’t seen her this happy in, in a long time.  Since…since before.  Shit, if he knew all it took was getting sick he would have gone out in the rain barefoot or something and…

 

He gulped, memories of a certain dream coming to him, of actually getting sick from that dream more than half a year ago.  He found himself short of breath and tried to calm himself, but he was having a hard time.  “You mean it?”

 

She shook her head and passed him a strange look, “Of course I do, silly.” She smiled and peeked over into his empty bowl.  “You done?”

 

He handed it to her and she set it on the nightstand.  “Where’d you get this?”

 

“I made it.”

 

He laughed at her and accepted the water bottle and the pills she had in her hand.  He had no idea what they were and didn’t know if they were going to knock him out or keep him awake, but he took them anyway.  “You know how to cook?”

 

“I called up our cook from home and had him send me the recipe and I did it good on my first try.  I was so proud.”  He swallowed the pills down and chugged half the bottle of water.  He screwed the cap back on and patted the space beside him.   She came up willingly and fit herself into his chest. 

 

“We’re ok, right?  Like we’re doing ok, right?”

 

“Yeah, we’re good.”  She looked up at him.  “I know I’ve been kind of weird lately but…”

 

He cut her off.  He knew he was being a hypocrite, being mad at her for not wanting to talk about things and now he was doing the same thing.  But they were happy and they were pleasant and he didn’t want anything to ruin his change of mood.  “No, its fine.  I just need that reassurance right now.”

 

They stayed like that for a while and finally after a few minutes, she sat up and reached over to pat the middle of the bed.  “Lie down and turn over.”

 

“What?”  He asked. 

 

“I’m gonna give you a back rub.”

 

It was probably the best thing he had heard all day besides when she told him that she loved him.  His back really was achy and tight from the insane hours, not sleeping, the dance rehearsals, the stress and being sick.  A massage would immediately relax him and make him feel better.

 

She was the best fucking medicine.  She knew exactly what to say and do to make it all better. “Oh my God, really…”

 

“Come on…”  She smiled and moved off the bed and he rolled over happily, pulling a pillow under his head. 

 

Soon he felt her lightly put her weight down against his ass and then her hands, her hands rubbed against his skin and slowly worked out his shoulders and his upper back, putting a lot of pressure but taking her time and making him groan. She moved her fingers down his spine and massaged his neck and leaned down at one point to kiss his shoulder.  It relaxed him and almost put him to sleep.

 

Almost…

 

There was something holding him back from completely knocking out. 

 

Her hands rubbing against his back made that feeling to start to bubble up inside of him and when she would move just slightly against his ass, his hips pushed into the mattress and his erection would get just a bit stronger.  It was probably a little pathetic that lying on the bed with her hands on his back, pushing and pressing out knots, could make him this horney, but he didn’t care.  He was with his girl and she loved him and she was taking such good care of him and making him feel a thousand times better than before. 

 

He couldn’t get the image of her naked out of his mind and he couldn’t stop the thoughts of sex and how great it would feel to be with her like that from echoing in his brain. 

 

Soon, when she whined that her hands were tired, he took the opportunity to move underneath her.

 

She lifted up her body and he flipped onto his back and said to her, “Shit, Darcy.” 

 

“What?”  She smiled a little clueless smile and he moved his hands to her hips and sat her down firmly against his lap.

 

“That…”  Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small “o”.  He was breathing hard already, staring at her and wishing she was naked with him.

 

She licked her lips and sighed, but she didn’t pull off of him.  “You’re sick…”

 

He looked at her breasts under her t-shirt and moved his hands up and down over her sides and then down to her jean clad thighs.  “Yeah…I guess that would wear me out more.”

 

“Do you want me to?”

 

He gulped and moved his eyes to hers.  He knew he was being rather irrational.  The last thing he needed was to physically wear himself out with sex while he was sick and stressed out.  But it was the only thing in his mind at the time and he couldn’t stop himself from imagining how good and relaxing it would be.  “Not unless you want to.”

 

He had a very hard time reading her stare, but soon she smiled, pulled off him and leaned up to kiss him briefly.  “Just relax…close your eyes and lay back.”

 

He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes.  “Ok…”  He put his hands on his chest and waited.

 

He could hear fabric moving, falling and he started to smile.  He pictured her in his mind and wanted to open his eyes, but he didn’t.  He kept them closed just like she had instructed.  The bed shifted again and he felt her hand over his stomach and then go down.

 

He couldn’t help himself and opened his eyes when he felt her pull him out through the slip in his boxers.  But he wasn’t prepared for what he saw.  Her lips came around him and his eyes rolled back in his head at the feeling.  It had been a while for this and he immediately moved his hand down and touched her shoulder.  “Shit Darcy…Shit.”

 

She continued to suck him and kiss him really good and slow and he took in deep breaths at the smooth feeling.  He hadn’t been expecting this at all, but he wasn’t about to complain.  She was naked, too, laying perpendicular to him on her stomach.  He stared at her perfectly curved ass and how now her hair was pulled over her gorgeous back, in that sloppy ponytail. A loud burst of laughter came from the door and they both jumped a little bit.  His heart was beating so fast and then her lips came around him again.  It was too much and he wanted her with him, on him. He wanted to see her and touch her and as good as her tongue felt around him he wanted her there…her.   He moved his hand from where it was against her neck to her shoulder and pushed her a little.

 

“Stop…stop for a second.”  She pulled away and licked her lips, her eyes huge and staring at him.

 

“Is everything ok?”

 

He couldn’t catch his breath and cleared his throat a little bit.  He felt dizzy and lightheaded, but it didn’t matter.  Only she mattered. He moved his hands and roughly pushed his boxers off, down his hips, bending up his legs to move them down to his knees and then he kicked them off.  He laid there naked for a moment and stared at her.  “Will, will you get on me?”

 

It sounded a lot cruder out loud than it had in his mind, but he was thankful that she didn’t seem to care.  She smiled a little bit and pushed herself up and moved to where she was straddling his lap, hovering over his erection.  She took it in her hand and pressed it back against him, then sat down on it, rubbing it against her in between her legs.  He gripped her hips.  He wasn’t in her yet and it still felt so good, she was wet and warm.  It was teasing and sexy and he found himself gasping for air.  He moved his hands up to her breasts for a moment and then to her neck to pull her down into a kiss. 

 

He kissed her wildly and he suddenly realized she wasn’t returning the fury of his kiss and wanted to ask her why she was being so timid.  But then he felt it.  He felt her hand guiding him to her center. And suddenly she sat up and pressed her body down.  It was like silk and he arched his back a little bit at the feeling and gripped her thighs.  Oh shit, he was going to be tired the next day but it was worth it.  It was so fucking worth it.

 

He just hoped he wasn’t so exhausted that he couldn’t finish.

 

“Darcy…”  He whispered her name but couldn’t say anything else more because she started to move.  And she didn’t stop.  It was slow at first, just a gentle rocking, but soon it turned into more and he was gripping the comforter next to him and then gripping her thighs.  Her hands ended up on his chest using it as leverage as she moved herself off of him and then on again.

 

It felt so wonderful and he felt perfect.  He couldn’t remember being angry or being sick or being frustrated.  He just knew her and her body and he loved her and she loved him, and he was in her and that was all that mattered.

 

He moaned a bit and found a good place for his hands, holding on to the back of her knees where they were bent.  She was going on him harder and he moved his eyes to her face so he could watch her as they started to get there. 

 

But suddenly, the more he looked at her, the more he realized that things were changing and things weren’t as he thought.

 

Her head wasn’t bent back in ecstasy, she wasn’t grabbing his body, and she wasn’t moaning his name.  In fact, she had barely said a thing, not even a whisper since she told him to close his eyes.  She was staring at him, her mouth open just a bit, breathing heavy.  She was flushed and he knew she was excited.  He could feel how wet she was, how her body squeezed and molded around his.  But she was just staring at him.  Her eyes were questioning and they were unsure and it started to come back.

 

The anxiety and the pain started to come back.  And he realized they hadn’t made any progress and they weren’t better than before.  They were just the same and she was worried and she couldn’t push this back and she couldn’t forget about it and she couldn’t move on.  For some reason, all she could do was dwell on it and worry about it.  He realized she didn’t believe him.  She still didn’t think that he really loved her.  She still thought this was a competition with his dreams.

 

But he did love her.  He did.  He loved her more, more than she realized.

 

She stopped moving and he just laid there and watched her.  Neither of them moved.  They just breathed and stared.  He could feel himself loosing it.  It was dying down and he knew it wouldn’t come back.  He sighed and she broke her stare. 

 

“Why did you stop?”  She whispered.

 

He shook his head, closed his eyes and he pushed at her knees a little.  She slid off of him and laid against the bed, curling into his chest.  He opened his eyes and licked his lips.  And then he lied.

 

He opened his mouth and he lied to her.  “I guess I’m just too exhausted and kind of lost it.  I...I’m sorry.”

 

She stroked his chest.  “It’s ok, I probably shouldn’t have offered anyway.  You just took some Nyquil so I’m sure you’re getting drowsy.”

 

He nodded and they just laid there for a while, naked, on top of the covers.  He started to get cold and even her warm body against his couldn’t make him feel better.  He was scared and he was shocked and it wasn’t about the day he had had or the events that were going to happen tomorrow in his career.  No, he was terrified.

 

He was terrified because she had asked him why he had stopped.  But he hadn’t stopped.  She had.  And he knew that she had been lying to him all night.  The smiling, laughing, happy Darcy was a joke, it was fake, and it was a lie.

 

They weren’t ok.  They weren’t fine. 

 

And he realized lying there with her that somehow despite all the progress he thought they had made, after all the talks they had about his past, after all the stuff he had tried to do to convince her that he loved her, they were falling.  And he realized now that there was no going back.

 

It was happening slowly.  It was happening painfully.  But she was pulling away from him.  He knew it in his mind and felt it in his heart.

 

And as much as he wanted to fight it, he knew he couldn’t.  He knew they were breaking apart.

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