Small Town Lover

They'd been in Anchorage for a full 6 hours, and Chris hadn't had 5 minutes alone with Lance. In fact, he was beginning to think that he'd purposefully been distracted by Rob and the boys, while Patti and Lance sequestered themselves in her bedroom for a heart-to-heart.

Which was fine. 'Cause he loved the boys -- Cory was a kindred spirit for sure, and Shane was a deep-thinker. He'd already come up with a few questions about Chris and Lance's situation that Chris found insightful, to say the least.

Rob was a music lover, and when he found out that Chris was in the business, monopolized Chris' time for the next two hours talking about studio work, and who-all Chris had worked with lately.

Which was also fine, but now Chris needed to find his boy and make certain that his own emotional balance was taken care of. He needed Lance.

So he made his restroom break excuses, and made his way to the master bedroom.

Chris put his ear to the door, but couldn't hear anything but the TV. He knocked on the door lightly, stepping back when it opened on well-oiled hinges. He pushed it a little more, catching sight of Patti sitting up against the headboard, holding a sleeping Lance's head on her lap, her fingers threading through his hair as she watched the news.

Chris stared at his lover's relaxed face, seeing a lack of tension, a... a contentment, that he'd not seen in a long while. Not since before their coming out, and Lance's consequent moving out of his parents' house.

It was both a relief, and a hurt.

Chris could see signs of the happy, joyful Lance that he'd fallen in love with, and he was so fucking happy to see him that his heart was trying to beat it's way out of his chest. It has obviously been a great idea to come up here to see his aunt. She'd been able to reach through the dark sadness that Lance had been drowning in since his parents threw him out.

Therein also lay the hurt.

Patti had been able to help Lance after only a few hours with him, while Chris, his lover, his partner in life, couldn't seem to touch him in that place. It was disheartening, and disappointing, and made Chris feel useless and unimportant.

All of which was ridiculous, and unworthy of his thoughts. Was he Lance's partner or not? It wasn't as if the boy (man, damnit) kept him around just to suck his dick. Lance loved him, and that was no lie.

"Hey."

Chris looked up to see Patti giving him an intense look, her fingers stilled in Lance's hair.

"Hey," he replied, not really knowing what to say to this woman.

Patti slowly slid out from under Lance's head, gently moving it to the pillow she'd been leaning against. She got up and walked around the bed, tilting her head to indicate Chris should follow her out of the room. Chris looked once more upon his lover before leaving the room and closing the door quietly behind him.

Chris found Patti brewing coffee in the kitchen, her movements calming to his frayed nerved and still-pounding heart. She seemed so at peace with herself and everything around her. (Lance needs her, not me.) Chris traitorous mind told him.

Chris looked up to find her eyes upon him again, this time in contemplation.

"Would you give it a rest, honey? I mean, self-flagellation is really inappropriate in this instance. Unless, of course, you enjoy beating yourself up?" Her voice was warm and slightly amused. It annoyed him.

"I'm not helping him." It was all he could seem to get out, the rest of his words sticking in his throat in a big, choking lump. He couldn't look at her.

"Chris, most of this has nothing to do with you. You were just the catalyst that brought it all out into the open." Patti's arm curved around his shoulders, guiding him to a seat at the table. She sat him down, placing a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Cream and sugar?"

"Please."

Chris took comfort in the familiarity of his movements, cupping his hands around the mug to try and bring some of it's warmth into his body. He found himself speaking without plan.

"I knew it would be hard for him, coming out. We talked about it a lot before it happened, and I tried to prepare him, but it was like he already knew who would accept him... and who wouldn't." Chris gripped his mug, white-knuckled, as he remembered the look on Lance's face as his parents basically disowned him. It had been all Chris could do not to beat them both to a bloody pulp.

Patti's voice reached him, as if from a distance. "Makes me almost sorry to be related to my own sister."

Chris met her eyes, seeing the deep anger that she'd yet to show to anyone.

"God Chris. I'm so sorry that he had to experience that narrow-minded GARBAGE." She got up to pace around the table, her calm disappearing as if it had never been there. "I tried to smooth the way long ago, because I could see even then..."

She halted abruptly, and Chris followed her shocked gaze to the bedroom doorway, where Lance stood, tousled and sleepy.

Chris wasn't sure what to do, or say, or if anything even needed to be said.

"When did you know?" Lance sounded like a small child who'd just learned that Santa Claus wasn't real. The blond moved slowly over to Chris' chair, where he slipped a shaking hand over his lover's shoulder. Chris lifted his own hand up to clasp Lance's, silently giving him what support he could.

Patti smiled softly, her love and acceptance of Lance coloring ever word she spoke. "I think I realized when you were around 11 or 12 that there was something special about you." She reached out to run her fingers through his hair again. "That was right around the age I figured it out about myself." She turned quickly, missing the wide-eyed shock on her nephew's face. "So I right away began preparing the way for you with your parents. I pulled out my bible and gathered everything I could find in it to plead your case when the time came. I also began speaking to them about acceptance, on a very limited scale, of course." She paused then, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "Unfortunately I was already on Karen's shit list for my 'worldly' thinking, and the pastor of your church had already scared them so badly about being 'swayed' from their 'walk' that they wouldn't listen to a word I had to say -- scriptures or no scriptures." Patti turned back to Lance, but addressed both men, "I know this has hurt you both terribly, and I wish I could've made it easier on you."

There was silence for a long moment, all of them deep in thought. Lance was the first to speak again.

"You're... you're bi, Aunt Patti?"

Patti nodded, an old sadness in her eyes.

"But... does Uncle Rob know?" Lance was obviously stunned.

"Yes baby, they all know. I was determined not to have ANY of my family live in the darkness of ignorance. MY boys are being raised in tolerance and love, damnit!" Her eyes afire, Chris could see there was a lot that even HE'D be attracted to in this woman.

It was time for Chris to interject something here. He stood, slowly, keeping a tight grip on Lance's fingers. He addressed Patti with much gratitude and appreciation.

"I don't know many people who would go to bat for another like that, Mrs. Warner. Thankfully, my mother is also one. I hope your sons know how blessed they are to have you as a mom." Chris took the hand she held out to him, squeezing it gently. He then turned to embrace his lover, whispering to him, "I need you."

Lance nodded into his neck, and lifting his head, asked his aunt where they would be sleeping.

"I've put you two in Cory's room, since it's a little bigger than Shane's. And no, he's not going to have to sleep on the couch. Rob put our big air mattress out there behind the pool table for him." Patti led them to the bedroom as she spoke, opening the door for them. Their bags were sitting on the floor in front of the closet.

"Thanks Aunt Patti." Lance hugged her again. "I think we're going to hit the sack. It's been a really long day."

Patti nodded, smirking a little in Chris' direction.

"OK. I can see that Chris needs to get you alone something fierce." She hugged Lance again. "I'm so glad you're here, honey. We won't let you leave until you feel better about this whole situation."

Lance pulled the door almost closed behind her, watching her through the crack. Rob and the guys slipping back into the kitchen with her.

"Good night," he called out.

"Good night, Poo," they chorused back.