Run

Lance was pretty sure that it was a bad idea to say "I love you" for the first time during sex, mostly because the other person could never really be sure if you meant it. But he had been keeping himself from saying it for weeks, holding back, and he had lost any semblance of control the moment Chris slid inside him, hands tightening around Lance's biceps. Lance couldn't even recall everything he'd said, but he clearly remembered his fingers digging into Chris's shoulders while he said "I love you. God, I love you" over and over again. And the way Chris's eyes had darkened, then flashed as he looked down at him meant that Chris had definitely heard him.

He hadn't said anything, though, and they'd gone to sleep after. Lance knew Chris, and he knew there was no way to tell how Chris would react to a declaration of love, which was why he'd been waiting to say the words.

Chris was already downstairs. By itself, this wasn't unusual. Left to his own devices, Chris preferred to sleep later than Lance, but once something woke him up, he couldn't stand lying around in bed trying to get back to sleep. He had fixed breakfast, which was unusual but not unprecedented.

He served Lance a plate of eggs and sausage along with a cup of coffee, and sat across from him. Just as Lance was taking his first bite, Chris said suddenly, "I think we should date."

Lance choked on his eggs. Chris sat patiently until he recovered, and Lance eyed him suspiciously. "That isn't your way of saying we should see other people, is it?"

"No, stupid." Chris rolled his eyes heavenward. "I want to date you, Bass."

"You don't think we're maybe a little bit past that?" It was impossible to tell what was going on in his head sometimes. This was better than screaming and running, though, Lance supposed. "You're fixing me breakfast, Chris. As in, the morning after we had sex. Again."

Chris grabbed a sausage off of Lance's plate and bit into it. "See, that's my point. I like the sex. The sex is good." He pointed the chewed-off end of sausage at Lance. "You, Bass, are a good lay. That's not a problem."

"Good to know," Lance said dryly.

"But apparently this is starting to be a 'relationship.'" Chris used finger quotes. "Not that that's a bad thing," he added hastily. "But, you know. I didn't expect it. We should do it right."

"We're already sleeping together. We don't need to get to know each other." Lance looked at Chris. "The basic purposes of dating are already accomplished, here."

"I want to date you." Chris looked stubborn.

"All right," Lance said.


Their first date came the night after an appearance in Chicago. Chris dragged him off to an honest-to-God drive in movie, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Indiana. Without security, because "don't worry, nobody would believe it if they saw it." They stayed in the car Chris had gotten, though, and they didn't make out at all. Getting dragged out of the car by a bunch of homophobic thugs wasn't Lance's idea of a successful first date or an ideal security arrangement, and he wasn't willing to test the levels of local tolerance.

Back at the hotel, in keeping with the "first date" theme, Lance played coy for a little while before sinking to his knees in front of Chris. Later, though, when Chris had laid him back on the bed and was coaxing him into orgasm, the words spilled out of him again. "Fucking love you, Chris. God, yes."

When they were sprawled side by side on the big bed, Chris finally spoke. "I make a lousy boyfriend, Lance."

Lance pushed himself up on one elbow. "Let me worry about that, okay?"

"I mean it. I freak out, and I run. You've seen it." Chris had lifted his head up, and now he let it flop back on the bed. "People get hurt."

"Chris." Lance sat up. "Yeah, I know your history. I'll take the chance, okay?"

"It's not a chance. It'll happen." Chris sounded grim. "I do it every time."

"Except for Dani." Lance looked at him intently. "What did Dani do different, Chris?"

Chris shrugged. "Maybe we should stop now," he said after a minute. "If we just agree--I'm a mean fucker, Bass. I hurt people. Fuck, you're my best friend."

"Justin," Lance managed to say, despite the hand closing around his heart.

Chris shook his head. "I love Justin, but he's not fucking everything to me right now. That's you." And Lance nodded, because he loved Joey but Chris was fucking everything, and suddenly it didn't matter that Chris hadn't said he loved Lance. Fucking everything pretty much covered it. And only for Chris would that be a reason to stop.

"I love you," he said simply. It was the first time he'd said it outside of sex, the first time he made a conscious decision to say it. He was surprised by how good it felt. "If you run off and leave me--yeah, it'll hurt. You do that, I'll hunt you down and kill you, Chris, because I can take care of myself. But if we just stop now, because you're afraid of what you might do..." he trailed off.

"I tried to run away from Dani," Chris said abruptly. "She wouldn't let me. But it came out the same in the end. They all got hurt."

"So did you," Lance reminded him. "Is that it? Who are you more afraid of hurting, Chris, me or yourself?" He stood up, glaring at the bed. "If you're afraid to get hurt again, I get that, Chris. I can back off and we can stop or slow down or whatever you need. But if you're just trying to protect me, here...fuck that. You hear me?"

Chris had finally rolled up to a sitting position and was staring at him. "I can take whatever you can dish out, Kirkpatrick," Lance told him. "I know you, I've seen what you can do, and I'm strong enough to take it. Okay?" He sighed, the anger that had flared up suddenly leaving him almost as quickly. He walked back over to the bed and tilted his head down to rest on Chris's, one hand on either side of his face. "I'm not like them," he said softly.

He could feel Chris smirking at him. "Baby, when I finally get to love somebody?"

"It's gonna be me," Lance told him seriously.


December came along, and with it a resurgence in JC and Justin's on again, off again relationship. Lance walked into Justin's living room one day to find JC trying to work on something in his notebook, Justin on his lap doing his best to distract him. JC was gamely ignoring him, even when Justin started singing "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and curling a hand in JC's hair.

"Give it up," Lance advised Justin. "Even you can't tear JC away from his notebook, you should know that by now."

"You're singing the wrong verse, anyway." Chris came out of the kitchen, startling Lance. He hadn't known Chris was there. "Think about it," he said off Justin's inquisitive look.

Lance groaned. After a minute, Justin grinned and started singing again. "We won't leave until we get some, we won't leave until we get some, we won't leave until we get some..."

"So bring it right here!" Chris chimed in on the last line with a little slap to Lance's ass. Lance rolled his eyes but moved a little bit closer so Chris could drape an arm around him.

"And I ain't talking about figgy pudding, baby," Justin added.

JC lowered his notebook. "Justin," he said.

"Yes?" Justin leaned in expectantly.

JC leaned in and kissed Justin once. "Now, go away," he said, picking the notebook up again.

Instead, Justin slid off JC's lap and onto his knees in front of JC's chair. "Whoa," Chris said, covering Lance's eyes. "We're out of here. Have fun, kids." He tugged Lance back into the kitchen with him.

Lance kissed him, and Chris pulled away. "What's wrong?" Lance asked him, and Chris shrugged. Lance watched him as he got down a glass from Justin's cabinet and filled it with ice. He'd been seeing the warning signs--Chris was getting ready to make a break for it. It was Lance's job to watch, and catch it, and make sure Chris didn't get very far.

Even so, he wasn't prepared to wake up two mornings later and find Chris already gone.


"Lance, man." Joey sounded helpless on the phone. "I'm sorry. It's Chris, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Lance sighed. "I thought I had a little more time, though."

"What are you going to do?" Joey asked.

"Dani didn't let him run." Lance stared out the window. "He told me that for a reason--so I'd know what I have to do. If I can find him, I can bring him back."

He spent some time thinking about where Chris would have gone after he hung up with Joey. After a little while, he picked up the phone again and dialed.

"I'm going to kick his ass," Dani said as soon as she'd answered the phone. "I'm going to kick your ass!" she hollered to someone else, and Lance winced even though she'd pulled the phone away.

"He's there?" he asked.

"Yeah," Dani said. "He's here, hiding from the chance to be happy as usual, the idiot. You coming to get him?"

"Keep him there for me," Lance said, hanging up the phone.


Dani was waiting outside when he got to her house. He'd called her when he got off the plane. She held out a key as he stepped towards her. "He's inside," she said.

Lance raised his eyebrows. "You locked him in?"

"Whatever it takes," Dani shrugged. She looked at him seriously. "You love him?"

"Yeah," Lance said sincerely. It was apparently enough.

"Good luck," she said. "He's not easy, but I guess you know that already." She started towards her car. "I'll be back in a couple hours."

Lance stopped her with a hug. "Thank you," he said.

Dani smiled at him, just a touch sadly. "Take care of him," she said.

"I will," Lance promised.

He was half afraid that Chris had escaped through a back window, but he was sitting almost quietly on the couch when Lance stepped through the front door. He sprang out of it, yelping, "Lance!"

"Chris." Lance looked at him steadily.

Chris glanced wildly around him as if looking for a direction to bolt. "You're not getting away that easy," Lance told him.

Chris pouted--he'd spent way too much time with Justin over the years, Lance decided. "Fucking let me go already, Bass," he said.

"Nope." Lance shook his head. "You're too important to me. I can't give you up."

Chris hunched over further in the cushions. "Tell me why," Lance said softly, going over to sit next to him. "Give me a reason, a real reason, and we can end this now. Or--" he hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding, but suddenly sure. "Tell me you don't love me, Chris, and I'll walk out the door."

"Fuck." Chris finally looked at him, his face crumpling. "Fuck, Lance."

"It's all you have to do," Lance said, surprised at the steadiness of his voice. "Tell me you don't love me. I'll get over it, and you can do what you always do and wait for the next person you won't let yourself be happy with to come along. Just tell me you don't love me."

"I can't," Chris admitted, and Lance was pulling him up off the couch and into his arms before he even thought about it.

"Then come home with me," he said, face buried in Chris's shoulder, hands running over the back of his head. "Please, Chris."

And Chris was pushing him away, but only to put his hands on Lance's face. He brushed his fingers under Lance's eyes, and Lance was surprised to realize that he was wiping away tears. Chris was blinking, too. "Fucking love you," Chris said. "If I hurt you--"

"If you leave me, I'll kill you," Lance said simply.

"That's the second time you've said that."

"I mean it," Lance said, even though he didn't.

"I believe you," Chris said, his hands tightening slightly on Lance's jaw. "I love you." Lance pulled him closer, kissing him.

"Love you so much," he said when he finally pulled away. "Don't do this, Chris. Come home. We'll figure out the rest as we go."

Chris stepped away, looking around the room. "I didn't bring any luggage. Not even a toothbrush."

Lance grinned at him, suddenly unbelievably happy. "Didn't think very far ahead, did you?"

"Never do," Chris said. "Except, you know, when I overthink things."

Lance closed the distance between himself and Chris again. "Don't think so much," he said, and Chris kissed him.


They'd been home for two days, spending it all alone at Lance's house, when Justin, JC, and Joey burst through the door. "It's time for the annual NSync Christmas party," Justin announced as Joey brought in two bags filled with bottles and JC set three more grocery sacks on the kitchen counter.

"And it's at my house?" Lance had been lying on top of Chris on the couch, and he sat up to look at them.

"Yep." Joey grinned at them. "We divided up the duties, but you two weren't around. I'm drinks, JC is snacks. You're host."

"What's Justin?" Lance glanced pointedly at his empty hands.

"Grand Planning Mastermind," Justin said loftily. Beneath Lance, Chris snorted.

Justin swooped down on the couch. "And Chris," he said with a grin, "is the entertainment." Lance stood up quickly as Justin wrestled with Chris. When Justin stood up again, Chris was wearing a Santa hat.

"Fucking Timberlake." Chris glared, hands going to remove the hat. Lance stopped him.

"Don't," he said. "It's cute."

Chris looked at him disbelievingly and shook his head. "You're lucky I love you, Bass."

Lance smiled, feeling happy and warm. "I know," he said.

index // feedback // nydia main