Chapter 23

Lance slowly awakened with the feeling of being watched. He squinted through half-closed lids, not wanting to completely come out of his slumber. There was no light in the room, darkness shrouded every corner. Opening his eyes fully, he waited for them to adjust before looking around the room, trying to find the source of his discomfort.

In the chair catty-corned to the couch sat a man. His posture was slumped, defeated, his chin resting on one hand that was propped up on the arm of the chair. One leg was on the other, the ankle resting on the knee. Lance couldn't see his face through the shadows, but he knew blue eyes watched him, unwavering in their stare.

He slowly sat up, his eyes not leaving the man, and swung his legs off the couch, resting his feet on the floor in front of him. He finally broke visual contact with the man and looked at his hands, clasping them in front of him, resting them on his knees. A million questions ran through his sleep-ridden mind. Why was he here? Why was he just sitting there, watching Lance while he slept? Why didn't he say anything?

Lance waited patiently, rubbing his eyes, not wanting to look up, not wanting to look at him. Nothing in his life was ever harder than sitting here, across from him, and not saying a word. His heart beat excellerated as he waited, beginning to feel uncomfortable under his unwavering glare.

That was it. That was all he said. Lance looked back down at the floor and shook his head. He was sorry. Great. Lance was surprised to find he didn't care. Sorry wasn't going to cut it, sorry wasn't going to make it okay this time. He still didn't speak, and JC leaned forward in his chair.

Lance cocked his head, “You keep saying that, JC. Do you even mean it? Do you even know what you're apologizing for? Or are you just telling me that to make me feel better? Because if you are, it isn't working. I still feel like shit.”

“I mean it, Lance.” Lance snorted and JC continued, his voice still soft, “I really do. I can't take this anymore, Lance. I can't take us not talking, not even looking at each other.”

JC moved off the chair, kneeling in front of Lance. “I know, Lance, I do. And I don't know how you did it, I don't know how you were strong enough to put up with my shit.” Lance refused to look at him, but JC wasn't deterred. “I know how I've been acting, and I'm an asshole, I admit that. But, please, Lance, I can't do this anymore. I can't go on without you talking to me.”

JC dropped his head, not meeting Lance's eyes. “I know. But before…look, this is going to sound dumb, but before, it was me not talking to you. I had my reasons, not that they were very good reasons, but they were mine, nonetheless. And now, it's you not talking to me. I reach out and you push me away, I come to you, and you turn the other cheek.”

JC didn't know what to say. He shrugged, “I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I guess I would have done the same thing.” He moved closer to Lance and rested a hand on his knee. He noticed that Lance closed his eyes at his touch, but didn't move away. “I didn't mean it,” he said softly, “you have to believe me, I didn't mean it.”

Lance bit his lip, he wanted to believe him so badly. He wanted to take JC's hand that was on his knee, intertwine their fingers and tell him everything was okay. He wanted to look into JC's eyes, pull him close and kiss him. He wanted to do so much, but he couldn't. He couldn't erase the memory of JC's words from his mind.

He stood, brushing off JC's hand and walked to the window. It was dark outside, the streetlights and moonlight intermixing to give off a glow. A car drove past the house and Lance followed it with his eyes, watching the taillights until they were no more. He felt, rather than heard, JC move next to him.

Lance began to speak, his words soft, his voice deep with emotion. “You have no idea, JC, you have no idea what your words did to me. You turned your back on me that night for the second time,” he turned to look at him, “I'm not going to let you do that to me again. I can't take that again.”

Lance knew the surprise was reflected in his eyes. He knew he couldn't keep the shock off his face, he couldn't hide anything from JC. He saw the corners of JC's mouth twitch into a small smile, and he knew JC saw every emotion that ran across his face.

Lance turned on him, “How could you, JC? Just a few weeks ago, you had Bobbi, you had a girlfriend! When did you become gay, huh? When did you agonize over this, when did you think that you just might have feelings for another guy? Because I didn't see it, JC! I went through it, and I know how it is, and I didn't see it in you!”

“What are you talking about, JC? We weren't even talking when you and her broke up,” Lance sat on the couch, needing to put some space between them. JC followed and resumed his position of kneeling in front of Lance on the floor, and Lance groaned.

“She broke up with me because she saw through me. She saw I had feelings for you, she saw that I wasn't myself.” Lance shook his head, and JC told him everything. “Do you remember that interview, Lance, when you said you would be me?” Lance rolled his eyes and nodded, “That night, I was telling Bobbi about my day, and all I could talk about was you.” Lance lifted his head and met JC's eyes. “She flipped out, Lance, yelling at me, telling me to just shut the hell up about you. She saw through me, Lance, she saw things that I didn't even want to see. She left me that night.”

JC shook his head, “Don't be, Lance. It's what I wanted. I may have been too pig headed and stubborn to admit it, but I didn't want to be with her, I didn't want her in my life anymore. I wanted you, she just made me see that.”

JC shrugged, “I did hate you, Lance, I still do.” Lance flinched and JC put his hand on his knee. “It's not what you think. I hate you for being strong, I hate you for being able to admit to something that will change your life, I hate you for being able to tell me what you really feel, because I can't do that. It's taking everything I have not to run from this room because I'm scared.” Lance saw tears escape JC's eyes as he spoke. “It took everything for me to sit in that chair until you woke up and not turn away from you again. It took everything for me to look at you while you slept, to know you cried while watching a tape of me, to know that you have all these feelings that you can admit to.” His eyes dropped from Lance's. He raised them, once again meeting Lance's gaze, his voice quiet. “It's taking everything I have to kneel here in front of you and finally say the things I've wanted to say.”

JC didn't answer right away. His eyes roamed over Lance's face, he saw the new wetness behind Lance's eyes, he saw the way he held his breath, his eyes took in the way Lance had his fists clenched in his lap. JC slowly moved his hand from Lance's knee, tentatively reaching out and touching Lance's clenched fists. He heard Lance catch his breath, he looked up to see Lance's gaze focused on his hands. JC gently unclenched Lance's hands, taking them in his own, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. He ran his gaze up Lance's chest, over his neck, watched his Adam's Apple bob up and down, moved his gaze up to his lips, the bottom lip caught between his teeth, over his nose and finally to his eyes. His beautiful, green, tear-filled eyes that was watching him with such fear, such love, such God dammed hope that JC once again said three words that would change his life.


	Inner Reflection \| home back to Secret Desires Chapter 23 AN APOLOGY IS THE SUPERGLUE OF LIFE. IT CAN REPAIR JUST ABOUT ANYTHING. *LYNN JOHNSTON CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - APOLOGIES Lance slowly awakened with the feeling of being watched. He squinted through half-closed lids, not wanting to completely come out of his slumber. There was no light in the room, darkness shrouded every corner. Opening his eyes fully, he waited for them to adjust before looking around the room, trying to find the source of his discomfort. In the chair catty-corned to the couch sat a man. His posture was slumped, defeated, his chin resting on one hand that was propped up on the arm of the chair. One leg was on the other, the ankle resting on the knee. Lance couldn't see his face through the shadows, but he knew blue eyes watched him, unwavering in their stare. He slowly sat up, his eyes not leaving the man, and swung his legs off the couch, resting his feet on the floor in front of him. He finally broke visual contact with the man and looked at his hands, clasping them in front of him, resting them on his knees. A million questions ran through his sleep-ridden mind. Why was he here? Why was he just sitting there, watching Lance while he slept? Why didn't he say anything? Lance waited patiently, rubbing his eyes, not wanting to look up, not wanting to look at him. Nothing in his life was ever harder than sitting here, across from him, and not saying a word. His heart beat excellerated as he waited, beginning to feel uncomfortable under his unwavering glare. He finally spoke. Lance strained to hear him, his voice was so soft in the blackness. “I'm sorry.” That was it. That was all he said. Lance looked back down at the floor and shook his head. He was sorry. Great. Lance was surprised to find he didn't care. Sorry wasn't going to cut it, sorry wasn't going to make it okay this time. He still didn't speak, and JC leaned forward in his chair. “Lance, I'm sorry.” Lance nodded. “Please, talk to me.” Lance raised his head and met his eyes. His eyes had adjusted now, and he could see JC clearly, he could see the blue depths of his soul. “Fuck you, JC.” JC shrunk back from the malice in Lance's words. Lance almost smiled, he was obviously not expecting that. JC let out a breath. “Okay, I guess I deserved that.” He swallowed and looked back at Lance. “I'm still sorry.” Lance cocked his head, “You keep saying that, JC. Do you even mean it? Do you even know what you're apologizing for? Or are you just telling me that to make me feel better? Because if you are, it isn't working. I still feel like shit.” “I mean it, Lance.” Lance snorted and JC continued, his voice still soft, “I really do. I can't take this anymore, Lance. I can't take us not talking, not even looking at each other.” “You can't take it?” Lance exploded, “You've only been dealing with it for what, a week? How do you think I feel, JC?” JC moved off the chair, kneeling in front of Lance. “I know, Lance, I do. And I don't know how you did it, I don't know how you were strong enough to put up with my shit.” Lance refused to look at him, but JC wasn't deterred. “I know how I've been acting, and I'm an asshole, I admit that. But, please, Lance, I can't do this anymore. I can't go on without you talking to me.” “You're just realizing this now, JC?” JC dropped his head, not meeting Lance's eyes. “I know. But before…look, this is going to sound dumb, but before, it was me not talking to you. I had my reasons, not that they were very good reasons, but they were mine, nonetheless. And now, it's you not talking to me. I reach out and you push me away, I come to you, and you turn the other cheek.” “You told me you hated me, JC,” Lance said evenly. “What did you expect me to do?” JC didn't know what to say. He shrugged, “I don't know,” he answered honestly. “I guess I would have done the same thing.” He moved closer to Lance and rested a hand on his knee. He noticed that Lance closed his eyes at his touch, but didn't move away. “I didn't mean it,” he said softly, “you have to believe me, I didn't mean it.” Lance bit his lip, he wanted to believe him so badly. He wanted to take JC's hand that was on his knee, intertwine their fingers and tell him everything was okay. He wanted to look into JC's eyes, pull him close and kiss him. He wanted to do so much, but he couldn't. He couldn't erase the memory of JC's words from his mind. He stood, brushing off JC's hand and walked to the window. It was dark outside, the streetlights and moonlight intermixing to give off a glow. A car drove past the house and Lance followed it with his eyes, watching the taillights until they were no more. He felt, rather than heard, JC move next to him. Lance began to speak, his words soft, his voice deep with emotion. “You have no idea, JC, you have no idea what your words did to me. You turned your back on me that night for the second time,” he turned to look at him, “I'm not going to let you do that to me again. I can't take that again.” JC held his gaze, “I don't want to. I want to be here.” His eyes searched Lance's. “I want to be with you,” he said. Lance knew the surprise was reflected in his eyes. He knew he couldn't keep the shock off his face, he couldn't hide anything from JC. He saw the corners of JC's mouth twitch into a small smile, and he knew JC saw every emotion that ran across his face. Lance shook his head, “No you don't.” It was JC's turn for surprise. He took a step back, “What?” “You don't want to be with me, JC. Look, you're upset, you don't know what you're saying.” JC grabbed his arm as he began to walk away. “Lance, I know what I'm saying!” Lance turned on him, “How could you, JC? Just a few weeks ago, you had Bobbi, you had a girlfriend! When did you become gay, huh? When did you agonize over this, when did you think that you just might have feelings for another guy? Because I didn't see it, JC! I went through it, and I know how it is, and I didn't see it in you!” “Why do you think me and Bobbi broke up, Lance? It was because of you.” “What are you talking about, JC? We weren't even talking when you and her broke up,” Lance sat on the couch, needing to put some space between them. JC followed and resumed his position of kneeling in front of Lance on the floor, and Lance groaned. “She broke up with me because she saw through me. She saw I had feelings for you, she saw that I wasn't myself.” Lance shook his head, and JC told him everything. “Do you remember that interview, Lance, when you said you would be me?” Lance rolled his eyes and nodded, “That night, I was telling Bobbi about my day, and all I could talk about was you.” Lance lifted his head and met JC's eyes. “She flipped out, Lance, yelling at me, telling me to just shut the hell up about you. She saw through me, Lance, she saw things that I didn't even want to see. She left me that night.” Lance could see the pain in JC's eyes. “I'm sorry,” he said, meaning it. JC shook his head, “Don't be, Lance. It's what I wanted. I may have been too pig headed and stubborn to admit it, but I didn't want to be with her, I didn't want her in my life anymore. I wanted you, she just made me see that.” Lance felt his resolve beginning to crack. “Then why…” he couldn't finish, he hated to think about that night on the bus. JC shrugged, “I did hate you, Lance, I still do.” Lance flinched and JC put his hand on his knee. “It's not what you think. I hate you for being strong, I hate you for being able to admit to something that will change your life, I hate you for being able to tell me what you really feel, because I can't do that. It's taking everything I have not to run from this room because I'm scared.” Lance saw tears escape JC's eyes as he spoke. “It took everything for me to sit in that chair until you woke up and not turn away from you again. It took everything for me to look at you while you slept, to know you cried while watching a tape of me, to know that you have all these feelings that you can admit to.” His eyes dropped from Lance's. He raised them, once again meeting Lance's gaze, his voice quiet. “It's taking everything I have to kneel here in front of you and finally say the things I've wanted to say.” Lance held his breath, “And what's that?” JC didn't answer right away. His eyes roamed over Lance's face, he saw the new wetness behind Lance's eyes, he saw the way he held his breath, his eyes took in the way Lance had his fists clenched in his lap. JC slowly moved his hand from Lance's knee, tentatively reaching out and touching Lance's clenched fists. He heard Lance catch his breath, he looked up to see Lance's gaze focused on his hands. JC gently unclenched Lance's hands, taking them in his own, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb. He ran his gaze up Lance's chest, over his neck, watched his Adam's Apple bob up and down, moved his gaze up to his lips, the bottom lip caught between his teeth, over his nose and finally to his eyes. His beautiful, green, tear-filled eyes that was watching him with such fear, such love, such God dammed hope that JC once again said three words that would change his life. “I love you.” This time he said the right words.