Oct. 24th, 2003

pop_tarts: justin/lance (fucked up.)
I'm dying. Dying, I tell you! melted utterly, into a little puddle of "oh my god socutesocute!" it's sad and pathetic. Lance! where have you been all these months!!


"Who's this?" Justin said, and held up a somewhat tattered picture so Lance could inspect it. "He's pretty cute."

"Umm," and Lance squinted at the photo. "a guy I used to know?"

Justin peered at the guy. He was cute, and attentive. "Old boyfriend?" Lance shrugged; Justin decided. Old boyfriend. "It's a really good picture. You should put it up."

"Um," Lance said.

"I know," and Justin hopped up off the floor, abandoning the box he was sifting through. "People always think it's weird to put up pictures of themselves, or put up pictures of ex's. Did you hate him at the end?"

Lance held a green and orange lamp up; Justin shook his head, cringing, and Lance put it in the box for the garage sale. "I actually still like him quite a bit. He moved across town. He frames artwork for a living."

"You should get a frame for this and hang it up," Justin said, nodding. "If you don't, I will." He tucked the picture on Lance's kitchen table, into a pile of important papers and a cutout magazine article on gay detroit that for some reason Lance was obsessed with. Justin sat down at the table, stacking the papers and the photo in reverse-size order.

Lance came to stand behind him, and both his hands came to rest on Justin's shoulders. "you'd hang a picture of me and an old boyfriend up?" he asked Justin.

Justin put his hand on Lance's, shrugging. "You look happy in it, you look good. Why not?"

etc. I don't know! [livejournal.com profile] throughadoor owes me social!worker!au scenes, which this was supposed to be. so since this sucks, you should all tell her to write some instead.


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