Sleeping On Empty Dreams
by Icebun &Pablo

"Who is it that you think about?"

Justin's voice carries in the still of the room. The red cotton sheets stick to his bare chest as he presses his body closer to Lance.

Lance is a warm weight against his body and where they touch Justin feels himself wanting more. Needing more than Lance can give.

"Who is it that I think about, when?"

Justin traces a line down Lance's arm. His skin is smooth and warm and seems to melt under Justin's hand like taffy. When they're alone like this, Justin tries to convince himself that Lance will do anything he wants him to. That all Justin has to do is ask.

When they're alone Justin finds it easier to lie.

"Now, like this. When we're... together."

"What's wrong, Justin?"

Lance's hand is under his chin, turning Justin's face to meet his, making him look. Justin tries to look anywhere but into Lance's eyes but like so many other times, he loses the battle.

"What makes you think that it's not you I'm thinking about?"

Lance kisses him softly on the mouth; like an invitation. Lance's lips are warm like the rest of his body and when they touch his, Justin can feel himself break apart. Fracture into so many tiny pieces and Justin's not sure Lance will ever be able to put them back together.

There's a flicker of concern behind Lance's eyes and Justin doesn't fail to notice it. It's one of the many things he wishes he couldn't see when they're alone.

"You."

The single word is spoken in the softest voice. Even Justin can barely hear himself.

"Justin? Please, what's wrong?

"I know how you feel, about him. I know it's him you want here and not me. That... it's JC you think about when you close your eyes."

Lance is about to speak, but Justin covers his mouth, silences him with a kiss. Lance tastes warm and sweet. Like taffy, Justin thinks again.

But mostly, Lance tastes like guilt.

When Justin speaks again he sounds even younger than he feels. "I don't mind."

And he hates himself because he knows that's the truth.

"I know it's him you're thinking of, I know it's him you imagine here with you and... I don't mind."

Now it's Lance's turn not to look. His hand is balled into a fist where he pulls the sheet in his grip. The creases pressed along the top of the red sheets make Lance look as if he's bathed in blood. A scarlet pool with only the top of his chest and head exposed.

"It's okay, Lance. I don't mind that you're still in love with JC. It's okay. I can handle not having all of you as long as I have some. It's better than none at all."

"Why do you think I still love JC?"

Lance sounds angry and when Justin looks at him, his face is tightly pinched. His brow is furrowed and he pulls away slightly from Justin.

"The way you look at him... the way you look at me. Lance, you sometimes talk in your sleep."

As hard as Justin tries to pretend, he knows it's not his name he hears when he's lying half-awake at night, his body pressed close to Lance, almost touching. He knows he's not the one Lance dreams about.

Justin knows that Lance loves him, but Lance doesn't want him or need him. He doesn't make Lance ache inside like JC does.

It burns to think about it, but Justin knows he can't have all of Lance, so he's more than prepared to take what he can get.

 

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