Love, Lance - 3. All The Single Ladies

He loved being like this. On his bed, music playing, Janey snug as his little spoon. He had no desire for her. Or any woman. It's guys for me. That's just how it is. Janey loved that about him. Maybe we are a bit cliché, Lance thought as he smiled into her curly auburn hair. She had no problem getting undressed in front of him, nor did he with her. She knew the trouble he got into with the less savoury types that prowled the neighbourhood they were in, so he was not shy about letting her see his body.

"You're a total babe!" She would insist, pulling up his shirt to expose his abs and pale pink nipples on defined pectorals. And his bruises and welts. "Bobby's gonna drool when he sees you!"

"I don't want him to see... all this," Lance would reply sullenly, pulling his shirt back down and hiding the ugliness on his body.

The bruises were dysphoric. They didn't match the picture Lance created for himself. Androgynous. Beautiful. Timeless. The image was what kept the boy going. This is me. The only label that befits me is Lance Lovecraft. Lance does not have these ugly bruises and black eyes and bloody lips. Still, he could not stop the locals from delivering their harsh beatings if he managed to get caught out by them. The pain. The fear. The contusions. They were not synonymous with Lance Lovecraft. Yet, they were still part of him. A part of him he wanted to erase. They don't fit. They don't work.

"David's sent me a picture!" Janey broke the silence between them. Music played in Lance's room always. Hundreds of songs from dozens of artists.
He couldn't help humming or singing along to them.

"'Cause if you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it. If you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it. Don't be mad once you see that he want it. If you liked it, then you should have put a ring on it!"

When Janey was here and he snuggled up with her on his bed, he felt only comfort and warmth. She was the sister he always wanted. Lola wouldn't be so bad if she weren't a fucking bitch.

"What kind of picture?" Lance pushed her fluffy hair aside so he could eavesdrop on her phone.

"Oh!" She gasped. It was a full-body selfie of him. He was naked and wet. Just out of the shower, it seemed like. He covered his groin with a towel, but Lance could see everything else. The definition of his toned body, the strong, muscular shoulders and those quads! Oh my.

"Wow. Do you wanna swap?" Lance teased her, and she giggled.

"Bobby might be into that," Janey shrugged. "But I don't think David's into you. Sorry babydoll."

"I can be as pretty as you can!" Lance insisted, kissing her on her neck.

"Hmph. That's your problem!" She laughed, pushing his face away. "I'm trying to get a boyfriend and you're there looking better than me! You're confusing the straight boys, you git."

"Aww, Janey isn't up to the competition?" Lance was smiling, but he wasn't in the moment with her.

He was thinking about Bobby. How the two had begun chatting on Facebook - awkward small talk at first, but when the conversation moved to dance, Bobby seemed to break out of his shell and send message after message. Lance was on cloud nine, but Bobby didn't seem to show any romantic intent at all. He was just sweet. Janey frequently insisted that Bobby was trying to flirt, but he didn't see it. He often felt as though Bobby was ditching him in the friend zone, but Lance did have to admit that occasionally one suggestive comment could leave him wondering about the older boy's intentions.

"What's going on?" Lola slipped inside his room, and Lance rolled his eyes.

Everyone loved Janey. Garth and Sue thought of her as a second daughter. Nicky was desperate to get into her pants and had been for a while, but Lance, who would sooner see Nicky get it stuck in the electric beaters, made sure to cock block him, never letting him get a moment alone with her. Lola was a proper pest, though. She often and loudly denounced her brother. She insulted him, spread rumours about him and often made sure everyone knew she was nothing like him. But the moment Janey was around, she was sickly sweet to him. So sweet that Lance found it considerably more offensive than when she called him a freak or a faggot. I mean, if you're going to be a bitch to me, at least do it consistently, he thought with a smile as Lola hopped up onto the bed.

"We're looking at the naughty photos some boys sent to us," Lance replied, sitting up on his double mattress. Lola shifted closer, hoping to get in with Janey, but Lance felt like having some fun with her. "Nuh-uh, Lola. You must have acquired at least a B-cup before you can participate!" Lance pretended to fondle breasts of his own and Lola glared at him with so much contempt it was a wonder he didn't turn to stone.

"How naughty are the photos?" Lola asked Janey, who saw right through the "two-faced little bitch," as she liked to call Lola behind her back. The irony of Janey calling Lola two-faced behind her back wasn't lost on her.

"Too naughty for you!" Janey teased her, sitting up and linking her arm with Lance. She knew how much Lance's brother and sister hated him, so she always made an effort to be especially clingy and affectionate with him. She truly is the best friend anyone could ever have, Lance thought happily.

"C'mon! I wanna see!" Lola begged, and Janey bit her lip playfully.

"You wouldn't even know what to do with it," Lance winked and blew a kiss at her.

"He's right. This is really naughty stuff. We could get into trouble if we showed you," Janey explained facetiously, but Lola did not understand that the two were making fun of her.

"I won't tell anyone!" Lola promised, trying desperately to reach for and snatch Lance's phone from him.

"Nuh-uh-uh," Lance taunted her, grinning as he felt Janey suppress a laugh. "Not until you tell us who the Queen of England is." He knew how much she hated that he called himself that.

"Elizabeth!" Lola was starting to get angry. For a spoiled little tart, she does have a short temper.

"BUH BOW!" Lance and Janey both made the noise together to indicate that Lola gave the wrong answer.

"Ugh you're such a fag," Lola snarled and took her leave, slamming the door behind her.

Funny, Lance thought. Everyone kidded about Lance being adopted into the family because he was so radically different from the rest, but the truth was that without the hair dye, contact lenses and makeup, he looked a lot like his brother and father. Lola was the one that seemed out of place. The Lovecrafts were all fair-skinned - with Lance's fake tan as the exception - but Lola took it to the next level. She was almost white, as were her long, thick ringlets of hair. She was awkwardly shaped, with no arse, no waist and no tits. Lance and Nicky, the boys, had a more elegant shape than she did. Slender framed, with small waists that curved into feminine hips. While Nicky had a belly on him - shades of their father - Lance's body was hard and toned from ten years of dancing and other physical activity. Lola, though, she was just this rectangular prism of a thing. Puberty had one hell of a job ahead of it when it decided to make Lola into a woman. Where would you even begin? He broke free of this train of thought when his phone buzzed.

Bobby: < Random selfie haha >

Accompanied with the message was a picture of Bobby. Oh, my!

"Janey, check it!" He shared with her the picture of Bobby lying face-down on the covers of his bed, clad only in his underwear.

"That is the least random selfie I've ever seen in my life," Janey assessed it scornfully. She was an expert when it came to communication and dating. Lance was on the other side of the social spectrum. He could entertain a crowd without issue and do a great job, but he struggled one on one with people. "Do you see how he strategically positions himself so you can see as much of his bum as possible?"

"I didn't even see that," Lance's eyes bulged when he looked at it properly. He'd been too fixed on Bobby's gorgeous face and that coy smile. The dimples in his cheeks and the little cowlick on his black hairline.

"He wants you, you twit!" Janey shoved him playfully. "Why don't you send him a nice picture of you?"

"Nooo!" Lance covered his face with purple-coated fingernails. What's wrong with me? My chest is tight, and my heart is beating a hundred miles an hour. There is a hive of bees in my belly. I'm blushing so hard. Lawd.

"I'll take it for you!" She grabbed his phone and he felt so vulnerable, but he trusted her. "Take your shirt off."

"Bollocks to that!" Lance grimaced. He didn't want Bobby to see anything wrong or ugly about him. "Can we do something else?"

"Okay, lie on your belly and we'll send him a bum photo too," she decided for him with a cheeky grin. "You've got a sweet little bum on you, so I'm pretty sure he'll ask you out on the spot. Let's hope he's a top."

"Why?" Lance raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you assuming I'm a bottom?"

"Aren't you?" Janey was amused, smirking at him.

He wanted to be offended, but it was too hard. She would never hurt him on purpose. It's just... being out as gay as young as thirteen was difficult and because she was a straight girl, she didn't understand the ways she could be unintentionally hurtful. It runs both ways, he told himself. There are challenges she faces every day that I don't know. She might say to me what's what on occasion, but she never lets my words offend her. She understands, and so do I.

"I don't know," Lance admitted. "I've never even kissed a boy before. I mean, I watch porn and all, but I've never put much thought into it. I want to kiss Bobby and hold him and stuff. I don't know if I want to think about sex yet."

"That's alright, babydoll," Janey scratched him behind his ear, and although it felt nice, he looked up at her sardonically.

"I'm not a puppy!" He playfully bit at her hand, and she laughed and lightly smacked him on the nose.

"Come on, pose for Mumma," Janey ordered, making a slight adjustment to the way Lance's light purple hair fell around his face. Lance wasn't comfortable with this, but that was a problem. If I can't do this, how can I be a model? "Just arch your back a bit," she instructed. "No, not that much! And smile! You have the prettiest smile in the world." Whether he did it purposefully or whether he smiled at her compliment he could not say, but Janey snapped the photo before he was ready.

"Hey!" He objected, then he heard the sound of Janey sending the picture through to Bobby's inbox. "Hey!" He snatched his phone away from her angrily.

"Calm down," Janey put her head on his shoulder. "You look beautiful. I wanted to send it before you did what you always do."

"And what's that?" Lance asked her coldly. Janey put her arms around him.

"You would have found every possible imperfection and flaw and made yourself feel like shit, and I'd have to comfort you, and I don't have the time, babydoll! I have to go home in a few minutes!" Jane explained, and Lance smiled. She was right, of course. She knew him better than he knew himself. He looked at the picture in front of him. The one sent back to Bobby Petrović. Hmm, it's not a bad picture! I've taken worse. "Did Janey do good?"

"Janey did good," he kissed her cheek. "Thanks. Are you okay to stay on call in the event Bobby isn't disgusted by me, and I do my nut?"

"Yeah. Real talk," she slapped him on his bum on her way out. Hard enough to make both of them hiss in pain and start laughing. "Keep me updated! And if David sends me any lewds, they'll be in your inbox!"

Lance giggled and walked her to the door, waving her off.

Bobby: < Nice but that's not a selfie lol who's there? >

Lance flushed pink. Oops. Now he knows someone helped me send a picture back. I shouldn't have done that. Balls.

Lance: < Jane's handiwork x sorry! >

Bobby: < you showed my photo do Jane? lmao what else do you show her? >

Oh Bobby honey, you don't want to know how many different answers there are to that question. Lance took about thirty seconds finding the lighting and angle that flattered him most and put on the half-smile and half-closed eyes he usually did in his selfies. Why he did that he didn't know. They just seemed to make him look more... Lance? He liked it more than way.

Lance: < Here! My apology xo >

Bobby: < haha very cute >

Jane. Janey come back! Janey help! What do I do? How do I words? How do I be gay? Get back in here and sort out my shit!

"Oi, tea's waitin' for ya!" Garth bellowed from the kitchen down the hallway.

Oh, wicked. A hunk of lard and some sugar to wash it down with, he supposed. He predicted how dinner would go. His family would shovel down as much food as they could as fast as they could until they had seconds. Lance would pick and choose little more than vegetables. Maybe a small cut of lean meat if it were on display, but he doubted it. Andrea, and especially Camilla, lectured him frequently about his diet. Lance was healthy. He exercised every day, and he was involved in several different dancing classes. But it was difficult to refuse Sue's hard work in the kitchen. He never wanted to upset his mother, but when he was picky with what he ate and often nibbled on a carrot or some celery following the fattening meal, she tended to get huffy with him. Offended. I'm sorry, Mum. But when I die, it'll be as a superstar. It's not going to be because of a heart attack at thirty-six. Dying prematurely is undoubtedly Nicky's job. As if Nicky knew his brother was thinking about him, Lance ran right into him while the bigger, older boy was barreling out of his room into the hallway.

"Watch where you're going, sis," Nicky huffed at him. "Don't touch me."

"With that gut, I could hardly miss you," Lance snarled back at him. "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Oh, fuck off," Nicky turned and shoved Lance with the palm of his hand.

Lance was an athlete, though, so he was not put off balance and gave an insolent smirk as he braced himself on his back foot. Nicky didn't let himself get baited, however. Garth and Sue knew their other two children had it in for the middle child, but they also know Lance had an immature, playful aspect to him that lead to a lot of altercations and conflicts that might have been avoidable.

"Boys, enough of this quarrelling shit," Sue always meant business when she took charge. Garth was gentler and lax with his lectures and discipline, but Sue didn't do things by halves, and both Nicky and Lance shut their gobs before their mother got into second gear. Lola and Garth were already in their places. Because Nicky and Lola despised Lance so much - and the feeling was reasonably mutual - Lance had to sit between his parents at the circular pine table.

To Lance's dread, it was lasagna. It's not like I don't love her lasagna, Lance thought awkwardly. It's delicious. It's one of her best dishes. One of the best meals he'd ever had. But... it was all carbs and calories and oils and fats and... ugh. Maybe the rest of his family wasn't interested in their physical health, but Lance was. Still, to keep his mother happy, he carved himself a small piece from the corner, a little bigger than Lola's. Lola took small portions and often came back for seconds or thirds if she was still hungry. It was good that she did that. Nicky went in the other direction - his eyes were always much bigger than his stomach, and he had to wrap up what he couldn't finish and might stumble upon it in the fridge during his midnight wanders. As much as everyone tried to be quiet, that hallway squeaked something shocking in the night, and it was never a secret who was up to use the toilet or get a glass of water - or a chunk of lasagna - from the kitchen.

Lance made a right mess of it on his plate and took small mouthfuls on occasion as he listened to Nicky's news about his recent successes on the football field and Lola's constant whining about being left out of a trip to the shops by her gaggle of friends. The trick was to make a little bit of food look like a lot of food, and lasagna made that easy.

"You're sure you've had enough, gromit?" Garth asked with a frown, reaching for a second helping three times the size of Lance's paltry little pile of meat, pastry and cheese.

"All sorted, Dad," Lance smiled at him. He was hungry. But he couldn't eat this stuff. He'd eat from his reserves when he got back to his room. Lance kept carrots hidden in the top of his wardrobe. He was painfully aware of what it would look like if someone stumbled across them, but that was the last thing on his mind. They were snacks. Not dildos.

"What the hell, Lance?" Lola asked, screwing up her face. She'd eaten her first portion and was delving into the next. "Are you anorexic or something?"

He did not dignify her with a response, but unfortunately, the comment caught his mother's attention.

"You've barely had anything," she noticed with a frown behind her oval glasses. "What's goin' on? You got a secret stash in your room or something? Is my cooking not good enough?"

"He has a stash of something," Nicky took the cheap shot where he could, and Lola laughed. Bitches. I'm going to be a star. I'm going to leave Nicky behind in the gutter and Lola in the trailer park where they belong, and I'm going to Hollywood. Model. Singer. Actor. Dancer. Any combination of those.

"It just upsets my stomach to have too much," Lance thought of the least hurtful lie he could. It wasn't entirely untrue, at least. "I'm fine. I don't need a lot."

"You're skinny as a toothpick!" Garth commented. "We need to fatten you up a bit."

"Actually no, you don't," Lance tapped his long, purple nails on the table and pushed his half-eaten dish away from him. "It's delish, Mum. I just can't eat too much of it."

"Is this an eating disorder or sum'thin?" Sue asked, leaning across and running an affectionate hand through his straight, violet hair. She was aware that he was self-conscious about his body. It wasn't an unreasonable assumption from where she was sitting, he supposed. "You can tell me what's wrong."

"I don't have an eating disorder," Lance reassured her. "I'm just happier with fruit and vegetables than I am with things like this. It's better for my belly. Is that okay?"

"More for me!" Nicky greedily shoved more into his mouth.

"See? I'm just looking out for Nick," Lance added facetiously, causing both parents to give small laughs.

"You're welcome to start cooking your own meals, you know," Sue was much more delicate and well-mannered than her eldest son when she gorged. Nary a crumb dropped from her fork. Perhaps it should, Lance thought sadly. She ate so much and exercised so little, but she baulked at the idea of any lifestyle changes.

"He's not going to cook dinner for us?" Lola asked in a panicked tone. "Not that veggo crap?"

"Yeah we shouldn't have to eat rabbit food because he's a ponce," Nicky agreed with her. They had a strange dynamic, Lance found. They didn't get along particularly well, but they always united against Lance. Two against one. It was getting tiresome, Lance thought. If things don't change soon, I don't know what I might do.

"You'll keep your gobs shut if you know what's good for you," Garth pointed at the two of them.

"I think I need to be excused," Lance gave an icy look at his siblings.

It wasn't that they'd hurt his feelings so severely. It was that he was getting tired of the relentless bickering and attacks. Time was starting to erode Lance's resolve, and he went back to his room for a sulk. At least he had Bobby to chat with. After they exchanged a few happy selfies together, Bobby sent a topless photo, wearing only tracksuit pants and a suggestive grin. Lance immediately closed his phone. Oh my gosh. Jane. Jane!!

Lance: < Omg he sent me this what do I do >

Janey: < It's not like you haven't seen it before lol idk babydoll just do what feels right >

But nothing does feel right! All the jigsaw pieces fit together, but none of them ever had the matching pictures! Bobby is one puzzle. Everything works for him. When you put all the parts of Bobby together, he's a beautiful, perfect piece of art. But for me? I'm a clumsy cluster of four or five different jigsaw puzzles, and no matter how well they fit together, the picture is always wrong.

Bobby: < where did you goooo? xD >

Lance: < Just admiring the view! >

Bobby: < do I get to admire the view too? >

Lance: < maybe I'll take my top off next class! >

Okay, that should satisfy him until then, Lance thought, his head pounding. Is it this difficult for everyone? Nicky was still a virgin, so Lance figured he had a good couple of years to go yet before he had to start sleeping with people. Sex. Porn made it look so... awkward. Angry. Well, not all the time. Lance loved watching people make love. When one boyfriend surprises another with a romantic night. A kiss at the door, some cuddling in the bath, then some gentle, loving sex on top of the covers. There didn't seem to be a lot of porn like that. It was always very black and white. Top and bottom, dominant and submissive. What Lance wouldn't do to have Bobby come home to him so he could welcome him with a hug and a kiss and to feel his body. Bobby probably wants to have sex. The rough, animalistic and detached type. The thought frightened Lance. Top or bottom, I'm just not ready to do that. Does that make me even more of a freak?

"Oi lad," Garth knocked on his closed bedroom door. Lance flicked Britney off his dock and propelled himself across the floor on his desk chair. It had wheels, and he loved them.

"Yessum?" Lance replied with a smile after opening his door.

"You forget what time it is?" Garth nodded his head towards the giant clock on Lance's wall. Almost seven!

"Oh my god, I totally did!" Lance gasped, covering his mouth.

How could he, though? He had their pictures all over his walls. Posters of Mad Michelle, Gloria Droese, James Vause and Diego Silva. The strongest and the best professional wrestlers of all time. How he idolised them. Diego Silva was perhaps the most beautiful person in the entire world. He was relatively new to the company, but Lance had already fallen in love with him. Next to Diego, Bobby was the consolation prize. The fantasies Lance had about Diego. Not just him, but James Vause as well. Sex wasn't so scary with Diego. Diego would cup his face with a dark brown hand, gaze upon him with those beautiful cocoa eyes and whisper something beautiful in Portuguese before kissing him deeply.

"C'mon, you! You have two minutes before the show starts!" Garth winked and left the door open. Lance didn't even take his phone with him. He followed his father into the sitting room and smugly looked at his brother and sister. "Clear off, you lot. Unless you want to watch the wrasslin' with us."

"Why does Lance get the TV every Friday night?" Lola complained loudly. She did this every time.

"Dad gets the TV every Friday night," Garth replied, the same way he did every time. "Lance comes along for the ride. If you wanna know which doofus hubby a blond, daft tart picks, you can do it on the portable telly."

While Lola sighed and moaned and left the room, shutting the door harder than she needed to, Nicky remained where he was, playing Mario Kart on his DS. He didn't mind wrestling so much, but he wasn't a fan the way Lance and Garth were. They lived for Friday nights and even the smaller Monday show. Every week they watched from beginning to end, and if they couldn't, they taped it to watch together another time. Sue wasn't much interested, though, but she didn't make the complaints her daughter did. She would often knit or play solitaire on her laptop while she kept half an eye on the Bachelorette. Lance didn't quite understand why Lola didn't understand the hypocrisy of condemning wrestling because it was scripted, but she lapped up every episode of East Enders. Garth took his place on the couch and Lance where he had always been ever since he was too small to remember - Dad's arm around him and his head on Dad's chest. Unless the show was especially riveting. Then neither of them were sitting on the couch anymore.

"I could do that," Lance mumbled more to himself than to the others as he watched two beefy men wrestle each other.

"As if you could," Nicky snorted from his place on the armchair.

"It's pretty intense stuff, gromit," Garth reminded him. "You have to be big and strong to take those hits, and there's always a chance you'd get injured."

"When all is said and done, it's just a performance," Lance replied stubbornly. "I can act. I can move like that. Who says you have to be big and strong? I'm not finished growing yet, anyway. I might be bigger than either of you."

Lance currently stood at five feet and five inches tall. Not very large, but Nicky was the same at that age. When Nicky was fifteen, he sprouted like a weed and was nearing six feet tall. Garth was five foot eleven. Diego Silva was around that height, and he was a full-time wrestler. I could do it too. When I grow again and get to six feet tall.

"Yo Lance, you realise nobody would ever take you seriously, right?" Nicky pointed out, and Lance looked at him defiantly, his eyes heavily framed by thick, black eyeliner and his lids dusted a glittery violet. "Those men don't dilly dally. They'd break you in half."

"There have been gay wrestlers before," Lance shut him down.

"Yeah, but there's never been... you!" Nicky didn't look like he was genuinely trying to hurt Lance's feelings. Sometimes he didn't if he was in a good mood or if one of their parents were present. But it did hurt. Nicky spent too much time trying to hurt him to make up for the times he wasn't.

"Look, gromit," Garth hugged him closer and kissed him on the top of his purple hair. "It's a dog eat dog world, them wrasslin' types. You'd get it worse there than you ever have at school or around town. I reckon you're better off where you know your onions. Nobody dances better than my boy."

"There has to be the first one!" Lance stubbornly insisted to his father and brother. "Why not me?"

"Alright, son!" Garth gave in. There was no way to argue with Lance if he made up his mind about something. He was going to do it, and bugger the consequences. "When you turn eighteen, you can be a wrestler."

"Why can't I start now?" Lance asked with a pouty sigh.

"Lad, do you know how hard it is to get into that business?" Garth rubbed his son's back. Having this time with him was nice. These three hours where they were father and son. Nicky was sometimes here, and sometimes he was not, but Lance did not mind because he loved his father and his father loved him. These were his favourite three hours of the week. "Take my advice, son. Make this decision when you're old enough. You've got your dancing, and you're looking to get into acting, modelling and all that stuff you love. You're still a youngin', so listen to your old man and make a name for yourself if that's what you wanna do."

"That's exactly what I'm gonna do," Lance managed a smile.

Thank you to everyone who reads Love, Lance. ❤️ 
If you want to read more of him, To The Stars is set roughly eight years after this story is. The first few chapter of To The Stars need some tweaking, though.