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[N'sync] [Justin/Lance] [PG-13]
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kittykatz
love song for no one, insensitive brute, rusty facade, quintet
"Not a pop group," Lance mutters sarcastically to himself as he walks down the street, rolling his eyes. "What does he think we are -- a fuckin' quintet? Not a pop group."
A flash of curly blonde hair, and a bright twinkling smile sparks itself off in Lance's mind, and he pauses midstep, involuntarily glancing around, like Justin might actually materialize, out of nowhere, from the dusty leaf-littered path behind him.
He shakes himself, mentally, and forces himself to put one foot forward, almost angrily. He's wanted to forget for so long now. He's promised himself he would. And here he is, stopping in the middle of a goddamned road, hardly noticing the world pass him by because of a figment of his imagination.
Lance manages an almost laugh at the irony of it all.
He thought he'd come to London to escape the same thing.
"Insensitive brute!" he whirls his head around to see a woman screaming at her son, her hands fisting handfuls of his collar. "Did you ever think what this would do to your bleedin' family?! Did you? You want to go out and work, do you? Alone? You want to end the family business?! You're going to tear this family apart, you are!"
Lance frowns. He feels for her -- he knows what that's like. Being left behind for someone else's selfish motive.
He's jerked out of his thoughts when his cell phone rings. Picking it up without really thinking, Lance is greeted by jerky chords of music, an unfinished melody itching to be unravelled. He's enthralled, and when Justin's soft humming finally ends, he can hardly catch his breath.
"What's that?" he asks, finally, feeling a tremor touch the tips of his voice.
"It's a love song for no one," Justin replies, quietly, and there's an almost haunting melody to the desperate hopefulness in his voice.
"Playing the innocent card?" Lance snorts, and it's a bitter sound. "That's a rusty facade, Timberlake. Doesn't work anymore."
"Lance..." Justin's going to plead, and Lance nearly presses his hands over his ears so he won't hear it. The low rumble of Justin's familiar voice is still floating in his head, around and around like a never-ending carousel; Lance thinks he might be going out of his ever-loving mind. "You know I'm not--"
"It's the only thing you know how to do, J." Lance presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He won't fall for this again. Not a twenty-hundredth time. "I'm sick of having to play games by your rules."
"It's not like that."
"Bullshit."
"Lance." And there's the 'I-love-you-don't-do-this-to-me' in Justin's tone that Lance has been fighting to avoid for months now.
"I'm not nobody, Justin," Lance hopes Justin hears the cold steely determination in his voice, because he's not giving in to Justin again. "So you can save your fucking love songs for someone else."
-fin-
improved with
kittykatz love song for no one, insensitive brute, rusty facade, quintet
"Not a pop group," Lance mutters sarcastically to himself as he walks down the street, rolling his eyes. "What does he think we are -- a fuckin' quintet? Not a pop group."
A flash of curly blonde hair, and a bright twinkling smile sparks itself off in Lance's mind, and he pauses midstep, involuntarily glancing around, like Justin might actually materialize, out of nowhere, from the dusty leaf-littered path behind him.
He shakes himself, mentally, and forces himself to put one foot forward, almost angrily. He's wanted to forget for so long now. He's promised himself he would. And here he is, stopping in the middle of a goddamned road, hardly noticing the world pass him by because of a figment of his imagination.
Lance manages an almost laugh at the irony of it all.
He thought he'd come to London to escape the same thing.
"Insensitive brute!" he whirls his head around to see a woman screaming at her son, her hands fisting handfuls of his collar. "Did you ever think what this would do to your bleedin' family?! Did you? You want to go out and work, do you? Alone? You want to end the family business?! You're going to tear this family apart, you are!"
Lance frowns. He feels for her -- he knows what that's like. Being left behind for someone else's selfish motive.
He's jerked out of his thoughts when his cell phone rings. Picking it up without really thinking, Lance is greeted by jerky chords of music, an unfinished melody itching to be unravelled. He's enthralled, and when Justin's soft humming finally ends, he can hardly catch his breath.
"What's that?" he asks, finally, feeling a tremor touch the tips of his voice.
"It's a love song for no one," Justin replies, quietly, and there's an almost haunting melody to the desperate hopefulness in his voice.
"Playing the innocent card?" Lance snorts, and it's a bitter sound. "That's a rusty facade, Timberlake. Doesn't work anymore."
"Lance..." Justin's going to plead, and Lance nearly presses his hands over his ears so he won't hear it. The low rumble of Justin's familiar voice is still floating in his head, around and around like a never-ending carousel; Lance thinks he might be going out of his ever-loving mind. "You know I'm not--"
"It's the only thing you know how to do, J." Lance presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He won't fall for this again. Not a twenty-hundredth time. "I'm sick of having to play games by your rules."
"It's not like that."
"Bullshit."
"Lance." And there's the 'I-love-you-don't-do-this-to-me' in Justin's tone that Lance has been fighting to avoid for months now.
"I'm not nobody, Justin," Lance hopes Justin hears the cold steely determination in his voice, because he's not giving in to Justin again. "So you can save your fucking love songs for someone else."
-fin-