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The marks started to appear on people’s skin at the turn of the century. Small in size. No bigger than a quarter. They were black. Like tattoos. But they weren’t tattoos. People didn’t get them willingly. The marks just showed up unannounced.
There were many discussions. What were they? What did they mean? Why did they appear? Opinions were of abundance. The word ‘soulmate’ didn’t arise until after World War I.
By the 70s, the marks gained traction. People searched for the person who was deemed their soulmate by the universe. Sometimes it worked out. Sometimes it didn’t. Sometimes people spent their whole life searching. Some got their mark covered by a tattoo making it harder to decipher. Others wore a covering depending on where the mark appeared.
Even with the marks having been around for generations, some people still didn’t believe the soulmate explanation. A stupid silly mark telling them who they should be with?
That was Lance Bass. He hated the mark on his wrist. He wore a special leather band around his wrist. Had for the longest time. Wished his mark was on a part of his body where it would be hidden by the clothes he wore. Like his mother and father. Not even a watch would cover the offending mark. The leather band was a permanent fixture. The only time the band was off was in the shower.
Lance didn’t need some mark to tell him who he should be with. He already had enough of that from the Church congregation. His community. Everyone. His matching mark – he knew – was going to be a female and he’d be expected to accept it. Get married and have babies. The American life.
One problem.
Lance was gay.
Had been since the tender age of six.
These marks were just another voice telling him he was wrong for feeling the way he did.
Lance took his pen and slid it beneath the leather strap itching at the sensitive skin on his inner wrist. Itchiness and a burning sensation were the norm. According to mandatory soulmate classes in school, they meant he had crossed paths with his soulmate.
What a joke.
He crossed paths with thousands of people every day. That’s what happened when you were one-fifth of the top boyband. Sold out tour in a different city every night. Venues packed with thousands upon thousands of screaming girls.
Another joke the universe played on him. Make him gay and stick him in a boyband. All the girls he could ever want and he didn’t want any of them.
Nope. He knew who he wanted. Knew he could never have him.
“You’re gonna scratch it raw if you don’t stop.”
Lance looked up at the voice. Joey Fatone walked out from the back of the bus after showering. They had finished a show in Cleveland. Next stop: Philadelphia.
“Maybe it will fall off.” Lance muttered but he withdrew the pen and tossed it down on his notebook open on the table in front of him.
“Know who it is?” Joey slid into the seat across from him with a soda and half-eaten bag of chips.
“I don’t care.”
“Come on man. Of course you do.”
“No I don’t.” Lance stared at Joey. Joey let everyone see his mark on his bicep. He didn’t care. Of course Joey had already found his soulmate. A sweet girl named Kelly. His high school sweetheart no less.
Lance was happy for his best friend. Happy he found his ‘one’. He loved Kelly. They were perfect for each other. But every happy ending had a not so happy ending. He knew that. They all did.
Chris Kirkpatrick was just as disgruntled when it came to marks. While he believed to an extent they were soulmate marks, he still held that you didn’t have to be with your soulmate to be happy. Chris had dated Danielle for years. Before *NSYNC. They didn’t share the same mark. No one knew. They were happy. In love.
Then Danielle met the one who shared her mark. Chris had been devastated by Danielle’s leaving. So much so he had his mark covered up. Even with the huge design over the left side of his chest, Lance could still make out the mark when Chris had his shirt off.
A mark was never truly covered up.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if years down the road there’s not a data base full of marks for people to search through.”
“Cause that doesn’t scream predator.” Lance mumbled.
“Why don’t you just show me your mark? Maybe I know who she is?” Joey had been trying to see Lance’s mark for years. To his knowledge, no one in the group had seen it. He flaunted his. He didn’t care. It is what it is. Chris hadn’t kept his hidden. He hadn’t cared either. Until he did. Justin didn’t flaunt his but he didn’t hide it. Mostly he was embarrassed because it was on the small of his back. Like a tramp stamp. He endured endless teasing.
JC kept his hidden. Joey had seen it once during the Mickey Mouse Club years. Visible marks were hidden on TV shows. There were plenty of rumors of fans attacking actors and actresses to see their marks.
‘Dysphoria.’ JC had told them at one point early on when they had gotten in to a discussion about marks.
Dysphoria meant an imbalance within the match. The marks were wrong. It happened.
JC had never gone into a deeper explanation. No one ever pushed. Least of all Lance. If anyone knew about dysphoria, it was Lance. His match would be the same. Because he wasn’t interested in a female. If he ever found his match, he would tell them that. No thanks. He felt a little sadness and guilt. Holding someone’s happiness in his hands. That’s how he felt. He would never love them. Not like a soulmate should.
Not like he would love JC if given the chance.
*~*
Lance shut the door to the quiet room and ripped at his leather bracelet. He growled in frustration when the clasp wouldn’t give. When it finally gave way he yanked it off and tossed it to the floor. Then he dug his nails into the red irritated skin. He hissed in both pain and relief.
It was getting worse. The burning sensation he felt was no longer easy to ignore. No amount of lotion or over the counter creams he put on helped. His mark itched. Scratching himself raw did nothing. The mark was hot to the touch. Felt like walking on the pavement barefoot in Florida in the middle of August. Constantly. No relief.
He bent over and put his arm between his knees and clenched. Hoping the pressure would help. It didn’t.
“Lance?”
Lance eyes widened at JC’s voice. His eyes frantically searched for his band as JC opened the door. There was no time to put it back on. He quickly crossed his arms and pressed his left wrist hard against his stomach.
“You okay?” JC asked. His eyes widened when he saw the leather strap laying on the floor. He glanced at Lance’s crossed arms. His mark was hidden from sight. He tried not to be disappointed. Lance never showed anyone.
“I’m fine JC. I’ll be out in a minute.” Lance’s words were clipped. The fingers of his right hand dug into the skin just above the elbow. The pain was excruciating.
“You don’t look fine…” JC took a step forward seeing Lance’s face pale. Beads of sweat dotted his friend’s forehead. “You need me to get the doc?”
“I need you to just leave me alone.” The words came out harsher than Lance intended. Regret swarmed when he saw the emotion leave JC’s face and become blank.
“Alright. Fine.” JC straightened. “You got twenty minutes…”
Lance watched as JC spun on his heel and left the room. “Damnit!” He growled. He hated when JC was mad at him. Hated the silent treatment JC could give. But he hurt. It hurt. His mark. Worse and worse with JC near. What was he going to do? He couldn’t stay away from his band mate. Their paths constantly crossed on stage. They sat next to each other for ‘I Drive Myself Crazy’. Then there was the whole bit they did before ‘This I Promise You’. What could he do? Short of leaving the band there was nothing.
*~*
“Yo!” Joey’s eyes widened seeing the redness on Lance’s arm. “What the fuck?”
“Not now.” Lance muttered between his teeth. The redness had spread up his arm. The worst was centered on his mark, but the redness made it all the way to the crease of his elbow. Mostly from his itching he was sure.
“Yes now.” Joey grabbed Lance’s arm and caught the wince of pain. “What’s going on? Do you have poison oak? Poison ivy?”
Lance looked at his friend. “When have you seen me traipsing through the fucking forest?”
“What is it?” Joey ignored Lance’s sarcasm. “Have you see the doc yet?”
“No.” Lance pulled his arm from Joey’s hold. “It’s my stupid mark. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
“Let me see it.”
Lance shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I’ll see the doc tomorrow.”
“Right,” Joey rolled his eyes. “Just let me see it.”
“No.” Joey couldn’t see his mark because then he’d know.
“Lance…”
“I said no.” Lance snapped.
“You trying to piss everyone off?” Joey stared at him. “JC’s already not talking to you.”
Hurt swirled through him. JC wasn’t talking to him. Their banter before ‘This I Promise You’ was forced. And fake. Their eyes hadn’t met once. After the show JC hadn’t said a word to him. Just gathered up his things and headed to the bus he shared with Justin and Chris. Lance was thankful for that at least. JC didn’t share a bus with him. No telling what state he’d be in right now if they did.
“Talk to me man,” Joey said. “What’s going on? What’s wrong with your mark?”
“Nothing.” Lance said and watched Joey throw his hands in the air and leave the area heading back toward the bunks.
Lance sat down on the couch and put his head in his hands. A tear slipped free when he closed his eyes.
*~*
“We gotta do something.” Joey paced back and forth. He was currently on the three man bus under the guise of playing PlayStation all night with Justin and Chris. It happened. Not as often as it used to. When it did, JC usually jumped on the bus with Lance allowing the three to play hard into the night. Not this time.
JC was still giving Lance the silent treatment. It had been a week. Joey knew it could last forever. Would last forever unless Lance apologized. Which he showed no signs of doing.
“What do you want us to do?” Chris asked unraveling the cord to the controller so he could hook up the PlayStation 2.
“Something’s going on with him.”
“Nothing a bottle of Midol won’t be able to fix,” Justin Timberlake quipped. “I got Ryu!”
“You got Ryu the last time!” Chris yelled as Street Fighter started. “I get him.”
“I kicked your ass the last time too,” Justin grinned.
“I let you win,” Chris said as he moved through the screens making selections.
Justin burst out laughing. “Yeah right. I whipped your ass fair and square. Wait a minute and I’ll refresh your memory old man.”
“Can we focus?” Joey said exasperated. He looked at JC for help, but the man just sat on the couch writing in his notebook.
“I’m gonna focus on kicking the infant’s ass.” Chris grinned as he selected Ryu, the best fighter.
Joey groaned as Chris and Justin started arguing over the character selection on Street Fighter. “I don’t know why I even bother,” he sank back on the couch.
“Got me,” JC said not bothering to look at Joey.
Joey turned his head to stare at his friend. He knew it was bothering JC when he saw the other man shift in his seat. “Why don’t you try talking to Lance?”
The pen faltered on the page. “I have. He doesn’t want my help.” JC continued writing. His eyes flickered toward the black band around his wrist where his mark lay hidden.
“I’m worried JC. Whatever is going on is getting worse.” Joey didn’t have to point it out. They all saw the redness that morphed out of the leather band. “It’s hurting him. I know it is. I’ve seen the tears. I’ve heard the tears. Come on man, you’ve seen him during the last couple of shows. It’s starting to affect his dancing.”
JC had noticed. Had noticed the long sleeve shirts Lance took to wearing even though it was hot outside. Had noticed the dance moves hadn’t been there especially the arm movements.
“Something’s wrong with his mark.”
“You’d have better luck prying the Virgin Mary’s legs open than getting Lance to show you his mark.”
“I’m gonna let your momma know you said that,” Chris told Justin as his fingers moved in a fast sequence on the controller.
“You’re the one with a college degree,” Joey looked at Chris. “Did you learn anything worthwhile in any of those classes to go with that fancy piece of paper?”
Justin laughed. “You’re asking him?”
“I’m asking everyone dipshit. But no one is giving a fuck that Lance is obviously hurt.”
That caused Chris to pause. He did care that his friend was hurting. He paused the game and looked at Joey. “How bad is it?”
“I don’t know. Bad.” Joey shrugged. “He won’t let me see his mark. But if the rest of his arm looks like it does, I can’t imagine what his mark looks like.”
“You think it’s dysphoria?” Justin asked tempted to un-pause the game and kick Chris’s ass while the man was unprepared.
JC felt eyes on him and squirmed in his seat. “What?”
“You’re the only one with dysphoria.” Chris said. “Did you go through what Lance is going through? Does he just have to ride this out and then it will get better?”
“Maybe the mark is dying.” Joey spoke. “It’s dysphoria, like JC. His mark is dying and once it’s dead this will clear.”
“Makes sense.” Justin shrugged.
“But my mark never did whatever Lance’s is doing.” JC looked at his friends. He ran a finger over the leather band. He grasped it in his hand giving it a squeeze. He twisted his hand feeling the band move against his skin. “And do marks really die?”
“Hell if I know.”
“If we had access to the Internet, we could look it up. See if there is something…” Chris frowned. They wouldn’t have access to the Internet until they reached their hotel tomorrow.
“So we get to the hotel and look up Lance’s symptoms related to soul marks until then….” Justin tapped Chris’s controller starting the game again.
“Ah fuck!” Chris yelled and fumbled to pick his controller up while Justin pummeled his character on the screen.
“Thanks for nothing,” Joey sighed.
“We can’t help what we don’t know,” JC said softly.
“Yeah,” Joey pushed himself up from the couch and disappeared into the back.
*~*
The next morning the four of them gathered around Chris’s laptop. Lance was holed up in his hotel room. He hadn’t been able to carry his bag on his right shoulder. The pain too much. The guys could do nothing but watch him struggle as he refused to accept help.
That had finally scared them in to taking Joey’s claims seriously.
“What should we search?” Chris asked staring at the search page.
“Dysphoria?” Justin offered.
Chris typed the word in and waited for the page to load. When it did, he clicked on the first link. He read through it quickly, shaking his head. “He doesn’t have any of this.”
“Try searching the symptoms.” JC said quietly. Watching Lance struggle with his bag that morning had crumbled most of the walls JC had erected.
“Okay,” Chris typed in a bunch of words into the search bar. Soul mark, redness, pain.
“What’s that?” Joey tapped the screen over a link.
“Bond Disconnection Syndrome?” Chris repeated.
“Yeah. I’ve never heard of it before. Let’s see what it says.”
The page loaded and Chris started to read. “‘Bond Disconnection Syndrome happens when soulmates keep in close proximity of each other without allowing a bond to take place…the mark becomes inflamed…itchiness…pain surrounding the mark to include extremities dependent on mark’s placement…’”
“Fuck…” Joey breathed.
“Blah blah blah…” Chris breezed through most of the writing. “‘Eventually results in death… fuck…”
“How do we fix it!” Justin’s voice rose. He was barely able to keep hold of the hysteria threatening to burst forth. Lance could die?
“Uhm….” Chris scrolled down the page, his eyes moving across the page quickly as he skimmed.
“There!” Joey shouted pointing to the screen. “Go back!”
Chris scrolled back up until he got to where Joey had pointed. “‘In order to cure… soulmates must bond…or distance themselves…’”
“Who the hell is Lance’s soulmate?” Joey backed away from the table and collapsed onto the bed.
“It’s someone he’s crossed paths with…” Justin said remembering what they read about the causes. “He’s crossed paths with them. Does he even know?”
“He has to know he crossed paths. There’s a sensation you get in your mark,” Joey explained the best he could to Justin and Chris who hadn’t found their soulmate.
“Do you know how many people we’ve crossed paths with?” Chris turned in the chair. “When did this even start?”
“It’s been weeks.” Joey ran his hands through his hair. “At least. That’s when I first started noticing. But it could be longer than that. Depending on how much he was able to keep hidden.”
“Fuck,” Chris breathed. Lance was a master had keeping things hidden. It was hard to tell when he crossed paths with his soulmate.
“You’re forgetting one thing,” JC said quietly. “It said he’s in constant close proximity with his soulmate.”
“Okay… so not a fan at a concert or appearance. That leaves what? The road crew. The band. The bus drivers. Management. Security guards….”
“Us…”
The room froze at JC’s word.
“Us?” Joey repeated looking at JC. “How do you figure?”
“Who is Lance closest to? Who does he hang out with all the time? Out of everybody Justin named… does he spend enough time with them? Who, out of all of them, does he have constant contact with? Even our guards aren’t around all the time. Neither are Melinda or Kari…”
The room fell silent as JC’s words sunk in. Could they be true? Could one of them be Lance’s soulmate? Could one of them share the mark?
*~*
“What the fuck are we going to do?” Joey asked as he paced back and forth. The computer forgotten in the table. Chris still sat in the chair, turned away from the table. JC sat on the edge of the bed. Justin leaned against the dresser the TV sat on.
“It doesn’t have to be one of us,” Justin stated. “No matter what JC says… Lance is in constant contact with a lot of people.” Even as he said it, it felt wrong. There may be a lot of people around them at all times but those people rotated out. The five of them were always around each other even off tour.
“How do we even find out who it is? Has anyone seen Lance’s mark?” Chris asked and looked around the room to see the heads shaking. “We can’t do anything until we know his mark. He’s gonna have to show us.”
“Then what?” Justin asked.
“What do you mean then what?” Joey asked staring at the youngest member. “Then whoever has the matching mark saves his life!”
“I don’t…I don’t know if I can do that.” Justin dropped his head. “I love Lance…but… I can’t. I’m not gay.”
“This is beyond your fucking phobias. Our friend is dying! You’re telling me you want save his life?”
“You think it’s so easy?” Justin’s voice rose. He glared at Joey. “You’re the only one in this room that’s safe. You met your soul mate! You don’t have to do a damn thing about Lance. You know it’s not gonna be your mark on him.”
“And if I wasn’t I would still do it because it’s my best friend! I wouldn’t let my best friend die!” Joey stopped in front of Justin. They stood toe to toe glaring at one another.
“I’m not gay,” Justin said, his voice lower.
“So what! You bond with Lance and go out and fuck your way through the entertainment business. Who cares?”
“Guys…” JC stood. He placed his hands on either of his friends and pushed them apart. “None of this is going to help Lance.”
“You guys are forgetting one possibility.”
The three men turned at Chris’s words.
“Another way would be distance. If one of us is Lance’s soulmate, we don’t have to bond. We could distance ourselves…”
“And end the group?” Justin sucked in a breath.
“If it keeps Lance alive…”
“If it’s a member of our team, we can fire them.” Joey said. His fingers were crossed hard for it being someone in their management. Melinda. Kari. They could explain what was going on. They could work with another artist within WEG. Certainly they wouldn’t want to bring more harm to Lance. He could do more reading. Talk to people. Find out if there was a timeframe for the distance. “I’m gonna go talk to him. Find out what I can… this time I won’t let him push me away.”
Getting the master key from Melinda, Joey let himself in to Lance’s room. The bag sat in the middle of the floor by the door as if Lance carried it as far as he could. Joey figured that had probably been the case. The lights were off. The television set was dark. Normally Lance would be sitting at his computer on the Internet with his phone glued to his ear as he conducted business with his production company.
This time Lance laid facedown on the bed. Still fully clothed. Even his shoes were still on his feet. He appeared to be sleeping.
Joey let his eyes roam down Lance’s right arm to the band around his wrist and wished it was a sweatband that he could just roll down and take a peek. Instead of the leather band with a clasp that was sure to wake him.
Lance moaned in his sleep and Joey watched as his friend’s hand clenched and twitch against the bed seeking relief. He couldn’t stand it. He reached out and put his hand in Lance’s back giving him a shake. “Lance? Wake up.”
“Go away.” Lance mumbled, his face against the comforter.
“No. We need to talk.”
“Then talk. I’m sleeping.” Lance shifted on the bed and hissed his pain.
“That’s it,” Joey said and turned on the light. “Get up right now or I’m going to rip that strap off your wrist.”
Lance’s eyes shot open and he quickly pulled his arm to his body. Another groan of pain released from his mouth.
“We’re done Lance,” Joey said. “We’re done with you pushing us away. There is something seriously wrong with you. We did some digging on the Internet and found out that you have…”
“Bond Disconnection Syndrome….”
“How did you…”
“I can search the Internet too.” Lance sat up on the bed and wiped his face. He was tired. He hadn’t been able to sleep because of the pain.
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Nothing.”
Joey hadn’t been expecting that answer. Lance always had a plan for everything. “Nothing? What do you mean nothing?”
“Exactly what the word means Joey.” Lance sighed.
“Do you realize what that means?” Joey’s anger grew when Lance nodded his head. “It means you die! You’re dead! Dead!”
“I know.”
“You know!” Joey threw his arms up. “What the fuck Lance? You’re just gonna let this kill you?”
“Maybe I don’t want to be alive and live in this stupid world where some stupid mark tells you who you’re supposed to love! If that’s the rule, then I don’t want to be here! I don’t care who has my matching mark because there is no way it’s going to be on the person I want it to be.”
“Who?” Joey asked softly. Had he missed his friend being in love? How did that happened? They practically lived on top of each other.
“It doesn’t matter Joey.” Lance sighed, defeated. His body posture slumped. “Just go.”
Joey shook his head. “No. I can’t let you do this. I can’t just let my best friend die.”
“I’ve already made peace with it.”
“Well I fucking haven’t. I will never make peace with knowing my best friend is basically committed suicide because he’s letting a mark dictate his life.”
“That’s what they do! They are supposed to dictate your life!” Lance jumped from the bed shouting. “They tell you who you’re supposed to love. It doesn’t matter if you want to or not. That’s exactly what you did!”
“No. No I didn’t. I fell in love with Kelly before I even knew she shared my mark. Chris didn’t either. He loved Dani knowing she didn’t share his mark.”
“And look what happened…” Lance said bitterly.
“Yeah. Chris got hurt. But he’s still alive and kicking. He’s still looking for the next woman to drive insane. Who knows what will happen if he meets the one or if he never meets the one. The same goes for Justin.”
“JC’s the luckiest of us all… he knows his mark is dysphoria. He’s free to love anyone he wants.”
Joey stared at Lance. His gaze calculating. His eyes widened when it clicked in to place. “You’re in love with JC…”
“It doesn’t matter.” Lance said not even bothering to deny Joey’s words. It really didn’t matter. Soon he would be gone. The close proximity he kept with his soulmate wouldn’t change any time soon. There were still months left on the tour. He probably wouldn’t make the end of it.
“Why haven’t you said something?” Joey asked incredulously.
Lance threw his arm up indicating the band on his wrist.
“Who the fuck cares what’s one your wrist. You obviously don’t. Why haven’t you said anything?”
“In case you haven’t realized, I’m a guy.”
“Yeah? And?”
“JC’s also a guy.”
“Yeah? And? I’ve seen you both naked. I know what’s swinging between your legs.”
“We can’t be in a relationship.”
“Says who?”
“Everybody!”
“Who cares what everybody thinks? Fuck them. Okay? Fuck them. You’re gonna let a bunch of people cast you to hell because you love a man? Those same people, who for generations, have chased people because of random marks on their skin? The people who have broken up marriages and left children parentless because of the stupid marks.”
“And if JC doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Then I’ll take you out and get you piss ass drunk. You’ll curse his name. Cry in your beer. Then move on. You won’t be the first to love someone who doesn’t love you back. You won’t be the last. But Lance… it won’t matter if you don’t take care of your problem right now.”
“It won’t matter anyway. How can I even be with JC when the only way to save myself is to bond with someone else.”
“Then you bond with them to save your life and tell JC…”
“That’s not how that works… I’ll be bonded with…”
“You’ll be alive.” Joey shouted. “Come on Lance,” he pleaded. “Let me help you. Let us help you. I don’t want you to die. You’re my best friend.”
Lance stared at Joey. Maybe Joey was right. He was taking the easy way out. Maybe he should find his soulmate and bond with them. Forget about who he was in love with and be content with living the best life with his four best friends. He finally nodded and saw Joey’s visible sigh of relief.
“Take off the band and let me see your mark.”
Lance hesitated. He had never shown anyone his mark. With a deep breath he lifted his hand and worked the clasped with his fingers. Pushing the leather free, the strap loosened on his wrist. He pulled it free curling his hand toward him, blocking Joey’s view. He let the strap fall to the floor. With a push of strength he didn’t feel, he turned his wrist out allowing Joey to see.
“Holy fuck!” Joey shouted seeing the red angry skin the strap had hidden. He reached for Lance’s hand, gingerly holding it as he looked. The amount of pain Lance had to be in wasn't quantifiable. The mark was still distinguishable. The black intricate lines weaved through each other in an s-shape pattern. Moving from thick to thin. “You’re an idiot,” he told his friend as he stared at his wrist.
Before Lance could answer, Joey was dragging him from the room. He stumbled along behind him, pain shooting up his arm, steaming from the soul mark, now bared for everyone to see. “What are you… Joey let me go…”
“No dumbass,” Joey stopped in front of the door a few down from Lance. He pounded on the door. “Open up!”
“Hold your damn horses,” Justin mumbled as he opened the door.
Joey entered the room dragging Lance behind him. His eyes scanned the room locking on to his target.
“Joey?” JC stood up from the bed, his eyes wide. He eyes moved from Joey to Lance. He could see the fear on Lance’s face and felt a kick in the chest. Lance shouldn’t fear them – him. Should never look at any of them in fear.
Joey stopped in front of JC, staring him down. “I am fixing this once and for all. Dysphoria my fucking ass,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Joey…” Lance started.
“Show him.” Joey said firmly. “Show him your arm. Right now.”
“Joey…” Lance said weakly, cradling his wrist to his chest.
“Joey? What’s going on?” Chris asked staring at the commotion.
“I will force you to show him.” Joey threatened. “I will grab your arm and twist it until he sees…”
“Joey!”
“Shut up C,” Joey snapped, still glaring at Lance. “Show. Him.”
The room was quiet. No one moved. Lance stared at JC seeing the questions in his eyes. He wanted the syndrome to claim him now. Swallowing roughly Lance let his arm fall from his chest. He held his wrist out in front of him. Palm up. His mark laid free for JC to see.
JC stared at Lance. His green eyes wide with terror. His face pale. He wanted to hug him. He wanted to open his mouth and spill everything he’d been keeping inside during his silent treatment. He missed talking to him. The silent treatment a punishment to himself more than it was to Lance. He let his eyes fall to Lance’s wrist and sucked in a breath. “Lance…”
“Don’t touch,” Lance whispered seeing JC’s hand lifting. He couldn’t take even the slightest of touches. It hurt too much.
“Jesus Christ!” Chris shouted seeing the angry skin.
“Lance…” JC didn’t heed Lance’s warning. He ran his fingers over the skin on Lance’s wrist and saw the tremor in his arm. The skin was hot to the touch. It felt like fire. He traced the black markings. Following the swirling lines until it reached the end then back.
Lance closed his eyes at the touch. While it still hurt the pain wasn’t as intense as before. Maybe he just needed someone to trace his mark. Maybe that was the secret. If he could get someone to do it as often as he needed, maybe he didn’t need to bond.
“What’s going on?” Justin asked watching his two friends. He felt uncomfortable. Like he shouldn’t be in the room. Shouldn’t be watching.
“Shhh,” Joey hushed him.
“What are you doing?” Lance murmured as JC kept tracing the design. He felt weak. There was a feeling inside him he couldn’t describe. There was a stirring from somewhere deep. When JC’s fingers disappeared, he opened his eyes. JC was staring at him. “JC?”
“Why’d you do this to yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?”
Lance’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t…what?”
JC worked his own leather strap off his wrist. When the skin was bare he held it out next to Lance’s.
Lance’s eyes widened seeing the mark on the inside of JC’s skin. He looked at JC before looking back at the soul mark. His soul mark. Right there on JC’s wrist. “But…” his hand faltered as he moved to touch.
“Go ahead,” JC coaxed and watched as Lance’s fingers traced his mark. The light touches were ticklish. Or it could be the tingling of his skin at the touches. His soulmate’s touches.
“You’re my soulmate…” Lance whispered in awe. He stared at their wrists. The design. The same location. “All this time… You’re my soulmate.”
JC cupped Lance’s face with his left hand. “I’m your soulmate.”
“But you said… you had dysphoria.”
“Because I was in love with you,” JC confessed. “I knew whoever had my mark we could never be soul mates. You were who I wanted.”
“You were in love with me?” Lance asked in disbelief.
“Since we met…”
Lance’s eyes widened. “But…”
“Why didn’t you show us your mark?”
“Because I loved you. I didn’t want to find out that our marks weren’t the same.”
JC grinned then frowned. He looked down at Lance’s wrist. The painful angry skin. “You hurt yourself…”
Lance shrugged. The pain had been excruciating. Intense at times.
“All this time, I could have stopped it.”
“It’s not your fault.” Lance whispered. “I didn’t tell you.”
“I should have known.”
“No,” Lance shook his head. His eyes closed when JC rested their foreheads together.
“I’ll fix this.” JC promised, lifting his head.
“We’ll fix this,” Lance amended.
JC grinned and lowered his head, kissing his soulmate.