Date: Fri, 21 Jul 2000 01:35:28 -0700 (PDT)
From: heatwave_be@yahoo.com
Subject: best_of_me

Why I dislike disclaimers so much?  Not only are they quite boring to read
most of the time, they're also a bitch to write...  So here is mine: what I
write, is fiction.  Yes, my main characters are real people, but I don't
know them, hell, in this story they're just how I imagine them to be.  If
you're not supposed to be here, go away.  And that's all I have to say
about that!

Now on with the story, which is my first, so I would really like to hear
what you think.  This is just the first part of my story, and it depends on
your reactions whether I'm gonna continue or not.  (Dontcha love a little
blackmail now and then?)


Best in me: chapter 1

Justin slowly pulled into the driveway of his friends house, and after he
shut down the engine of his Benz, he looked at the house warily.  No sound
emerged from the large mansion, no lights were turned on.  But somehow,
instinctively, Justin felt that the man he was looking for, was in there.
Alone.  Lonely.

When he started moving after staring at the house for like an eternity, his
actions seemed to be in slow motion.  He quietly got out of the car.
Almost completely silent he closed the cardoor behind him and he stalked
quietly to the front door.  He didn't even bother to knock the door, he
simply laid his hand on the doorknob and twisted it.  Somehow it didn't
strike him as unusual that the door wasn't locked.

Cautiously Justin opened the front door.  As he entered, dust danced in the
slight breeze he had brought in with him.  Whites dust sheets covered most
of the furniture, and gave the moonlit room a rather scary atmosphere.
Justin opened his mouth to yell his friends name, a bit embarrassed because
the dark room creeped him out somehow.  But he made no sound, he just
inhaled sharply when he finally noticed his friend.

Sprawled across a large couch lay Lance, barely dressed, obviously drunk.
Justin couldn't quite determine whether he was asleep or just out of it.
With his left arm, Lance covered his eyes, under his right arm, he had
tucked a bottle of Gin.  His breathing was deep and even, so Justin assumed
he was asleep.

Numerous duffelbags lay spread across the floor.  Some of them were open,
as if Lance had been looking for something, others seemed to be tossed away
carelessly.  Justin noticed Lances shoes, his socks, his jacket, his t-
shirt, his sweater and his pants, scattered around the floor.  He frowned
at this sight, so unlike Lance.  But then again, Lance hadn't been himself
lately...

Lance had been...  Justins thoughts drifted off , when his eyes wandered
over Lances beautiful body.  His bare feet over which Lance somehow always
managed to trip while dancing.  His legs covered in soft blond hairs,
according to Lance the ultimate proof of him being a beach-bum.  A smile
crept on Justins face.  The black boxerbriefs, which left very little to
the imagination.  Justin stared at the growing bulge for a minute,
wondering what or who Lance was dreaming about...  When Justins gaze
lingered over Lances musceled stomach and tanned chest, he unconsciously
licked his lips.

Justin couldn't remember for how long he just stood there staring at his
friend.  He also couldn't remember when his hand had drifted to his groin,
or when he had started stroking himself through his jeans.  But then
suddenly, Lance looked up.

Justin had assumed Lance was asleep.  But all of the sudden, those pale
green eyes caught his, a faint smile curled those lips.  Justin immediatly
let his hand fall to his side, hoping Lance hadn't noticed.

Slowly, Lance sat up, not even trying to hide his arousal.  Which would
have been rather difficult, considering he wore nothing but tight black
boxerbriefs.  His words were no more than a soft whisper, a soft mumble
that sent shivers down Justins spine.

`Are you real?  Or is this just another dream?'  Justin swallowed
uncomfortably.  His voice small and barely audible, when Lance got up and
slowly made his way over to the younger man.  `You dream about me?'  Lance
smiled harshly.  `I dream about you day and night, Curly...  I can't get
you out of my mind.'

Lance let his eyes wander over Justins body, which made Justin feel tingly
inside.  Lance caught Justins eyes again with his, and took another step,
closing the gap between their bodies, their chests almost touching.  Lances
voice was low and seductive.  `Do you dream about me?'  Justin lost himself
in those pale green eyes, now darkened with lust.  He barely noticed that
Lance had spoken, but when it finally dawned on his what the other man had
said, he slowly shook his head, not breaking the eye-contact.  `I don't,
Lance.'

He smelled the alcohol on Lances breath, but it didn't bother him.  If
anything, it comforted him.  Lance was drunk, he didn't know what he was
saying or doing.  He had no clue at all...

Justin sucked in his breath and closed his eyes, when Lance traced a finger
across Justins jawline.  `Are you scared, Just?  Scared of what I might do
to you?'

Justins nod was barely noticable, and he parted his lips slightly, but the
only sound that emerged was a soft sigh.  Lances smile grew wider, warmer.
He let his finger wander past Justins lips.  He thougth about how his
dreams had always seemed real, and how this was so much more.

Unconsciously Justin licked his lips, and when his tongues touched Lances
finger, electric chills shot through both of their bodies.  Lance hesitated
no longer, placed his hand on Justins hip and slowly moved it up.

In his previous dreams, Justin had always shown initiative, he had taken
the lead, and Lance had been seduced by the younger man.  But something was
different this time.  Justin, who always had been the selfassured one, now
seemed almost scared.

Lance saw himself forced to take it slow, to convince the other man.  To
seduce him.  It was a new, and exciting perspective.

A shiver ran through Justins spine when the soft, warm hand touched his
hip, and slowly moved up, until it touched his bare skin under his wide
jersey, right above the waistband of his pants.

The feel of a hand on his bare skin, merely a hand, Lances hand, yet the
most erotic thing Justin had felt in his life.  And for a second he got
caught up in the moment, he wanted to get caught up in the moment, but then
Lance spoke up, his voice husky from desire.  `Damnit Justin.  Don't you
see what you do to me?'

Justin jumped back as if he had just burned himself.  Before Lance could
react, Justin spun around on his heels and ran out of the house.  He jumped
in the Benz, and rested his head on the stearing wheel for a minute, trying
to clear is head, trying to catch his breath.  What the hell was that?
That was the question that kept running through his mind, over and over
again.  But he couldn't find an answer.  When his breathing finally evened
out, he started the car and left.