~~~
the miracle of love
will take away your pain
when the miracle of love
comes your way again
- eurythmics, "miracle of love"
~~~
You didn't consider yourself a romantic. You didn't believe in it, not like you should. All those songs you wrote, those epic tales of the love in your heart for the woman of your dreams, they were just songs, just words, just pop. To you, love didn't exist.
But they surprised you.
You caught on early, noticed before Joey or Justin started seeing things, little things. They were hiding it, you could tell, but it was too big to keep under wraps for long, too huge to pretend it wasn't there, when it was. At first, it shocked you.
Later, it scared you.
You didn't believe in love until them.
~~~
Chris was a dark person for a long time after Dani, but he never allowed himself to speak about his sorrow. You didn't think he was ready to let her go, but she was broken when she was with him, and he stepped back, let her fly away. You almost believed in love then, but it was hard. Love shouldn't hurt, and if it did, then it wasn't worth it.
You tried to comfort him after the break up, but he wouldn't talk to you, or Joey, or even Justin. Seeing you with your pretty girlfriends put a crazy look in his eyes, and he stopped talking to you when you weren't alone.
Lance was always alone.
It still surprised you that he somehow became Chris's rock.
~~~
You think maybe you began to clue into something the day you walked into the rehearsal room after the end of a break to find Lance laughing, chunks of chewed carrot all over his face, with Chris hissing out, "sorry, sorry," his eyes teared at the corners. Fingers were on Lance's cheeks and chin, trying to clean him up, but they were tangled over each other, sobbing with laughter, and making an even bigger mess.
It was Chris's hand on Lance's face that seemed off to you, how it hovered and brushed at his skin, long after it was clean and smooth again, when they finally calmed down slightly. The smile they shared before they busted up laughing again was enough to make you blink.
Chris never laughed like that. You couldn't remember the last time he had.
~~~
You broke up with Bobbie for a month and a half sometime later, and it was all right. You'd just get back together later, but you were still kind of bummed about it. You liked her, but you just didn't love her, not like you thought love should be.
"Hey, C, got you Chinese," Chris said, coming into your house uninvited, and Lance was with him, holding a bag of movies. You tried to get them to leave, but Chris was adamant about helping you through that dark time. Lance gave you a hug and smiled.
You sat between them, and you felt better.
You pretended you didn't see their glances.
You told yourself you didn't yearn to feel whatever it was they felt.
~~~
Your mother always told you opposites attract, and in the case of you and Bobbie, it was certainly true, but at least with her, you had common ground. You both loved history and art and music. She loved nothing better in the world than to listen to your works-in-progress, and you sometimes convinced her to sing for you. Her voice was low and quiet, untrained but beautiful nonetheless.
You hadn't stop to think it might apply to Chris and Lance.
You didn't see how black and white could meet to create colour.
Somehow, with them, it did.
~~~
You weren't sure for a long time, though. With the way things worked between you and the guys, you always thought that maybe it looked like you were all in love to everyone else. You were close to all of them, closer than you'd ever been to a lover, and you understood that you probably were in love with each and every one of them, but it was a underlying theme in your life, nothing you talked about and rarely let enter your mind.
With them, it was so different that your breath often caught in your chest when you saw them exchange their secrets smiles, and it was moments like those that cemented your belief that something had blossomed between them that was rare and beautiful.
You sat down and wrote a song about it.
You sang it out loud, but it didn't seem right without Bobbie there to hear it.
You called her up and invited her over.
~~~
"Is something going on with them?" Joey asked quietly one day, and you looked up from your chicken salad sandwich, wiping at your dirty lips with the back of your hand. Chris and Lance were sitting together, chucking pieces of sandwich around while they laughed, kicking at each other's shoes.
"I don't know," you said as Joey's hand crept around your back, holding you against him, and you relaxed a bit, knowing that this was how it was between all of you, usually. Justin across your lap, Lance under your arm, Chris against your back. "but I think so."
Joey smiled, a brilliant flash of white teeth. "That's cool. I'm happy for them."
"Me too," you agreed, though you still didn't understand it.
~~~
It was hard for anyone to be sure, though. There were days when they barely had anything to do with each other, and you and Joey spent many hours worrying they'd broken up or something, but then you'd find them, sitting side by side with their laptops open, listening to Chris's CDs and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches.
Seeing this, your heart would expand, and you'd finally breathe easy, then you'd hunt down Joey to tell him the news. Joey would smile, and you'd grin back, and you'd let them have some time alone, blocking Justin when he wanted to play video games.
~~~
They made love tangible, and sometimes, if you walked into a room after them and breathed, you could feel it in your lungs. If Bobbie was around, you would wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze.
"Hey," you'd say, kissing her behind the ear.
"Hey, you," she'd reply and squeeze your arm.
It was a moment of intimacy you weren't used to having with people, but you liked her, a lot, and you felt comfortable with her in those seconds after them, when the room was still energised with that unspoken emotion.
~~~
When you first met Lance, he didn't talk for three days. He just sat there and smiled prettily, his hands crossed in his lap, while his mother asked all the questions and demanded proper answers. You tried to give them, but Chris was the one with the dream, and he took her out to dinner to set everything down, all your hopes and ambitions.
Seeing Lance curled up on the couch, Chris playing with his toes, you thought Chris did a pretty good job at keeping Lance with them, like maybe he suspected there was more than met the eye for the shy little kid from Mississippi.
You wondered if he ever thought it would be this.
~~~
The first time you saw them kiss, your heart exploded. Bobbie was with you, your fingers twisted tightly together as you crept down the hall, being quiet for no other reason than absolute silence. In the shadows, they were standing, lips pressed together.
"Oh," Bobbie mouthed on your shoulder, fingers at your belly and holding you from behind when you stopped abruptly. You did that often, though, so she wasn't surprised. There was always something sudden to stare and wonder at.
You watched Lance's fingers, those long, slender, feminine fingers that he got manicured once a week, press along the small of Chris's back, lifting the black shirt just a bit. Chris seemed to like the gentle touch, and rolled forward, a thick thigh between Lance's legs. Chris said something, murmured it, and Lance laughed, both his hands dipping into Chris's hair and keeping only their foreheads touching. They were smiling.
"They're beautiful," Bobbie murmured, "how long have they been together?"
"I don't know," you admitted, "but awhile, like, they seem to know each other, deeply. Like, longer than any of us know," and that was probably true, you realised, but you spoke too loudly, and Chris lifted his head, Lance's following. They didn't seem happy to see you.
You smiled, and Bobbie said, "hey, guys. We're going down for the night. See you tomorrow," and pulled you to the door, steadying your hand when you fumbled the key. The eyes were still on you, dark gold and pale green.
They really were beautiful together.
They still scared you, though.
~~~
You thought one of the reasons why they baffled you was that they still fought tooth and nail over everything. It was not like they ever agreed before, but you thought, with this change, they'd be more in concordance, yet they still came at everything from completely different angles.
"You're scheduling those things too close together, it's not going to work, Bass," Chris would say, hanging over Lance's shoulder, being annoying. Lance would lift a hand and swat at him, but Chris was quick and always ducked out of the way. "And that's way too expensive. I know a guy who'll do it for cheap."
"This guy is fine," Lance would say, gritting his teeth but patient like he always was with Chris or Justin. Chris would still be poking at him, trying to cross out whatever it was Lance wrote in those books of his, and you would watch this, a sick feeling in your stomach. You didn't want them to break up. "Here, I'll add a couple hours, but I'm sticking with this guy because he's the best, all right? Does that suit your needs, Kirkpatrick?"
"Oh, I suppose," Chris would drawl, pulling back but never far enough to break contact where his thigh touched Lance's, this intimate touch that you took for granted before. Chris would look at you and smile, content, and it became worse after you'd seen them together.
Chastised, you'd turn back to your notebook and work on that song about love.
~~~
Chris's moods were terrible things, and when he was in one, you always stayed out of his way. You thought he was probably manic depressive or something, but trying to tell him that was impossible. You tried, once, and he punched you in the stomach and told you to mind your own fucking business. You'd learned to avoid him, but you could still tell when he was riddled with the weight of his mind. Lance seemed to be able to tell, too, but he didn't turn Chris away like you did. He stayed with him, even when Chris couldn't bring himself to get out of bed, and made him eat, or stop eating sometimes, and bathe. If Chris tried to be mean to someone, Lance would settle a palm over Chris's knee and bright him back to the light.
When you were cranky and frustrated with your inability to write anything remotely good under all the pressure, you remembered Lance and Chris and, for once, didn't take it out on Bobbie. If they could overcome that, so could you. You said something snarky under your breath about this one line that you couldn't get, because all you could seem to do was rhyme love with love, and everyone hated when you did that. Bobbie looked up, her eyes shadowed by long lashes, and she looked afraid, like she expected you to lash out, like usual.
Instead, you said, "I can't seem to rhyme anything with love. It's so impossible."
"Can I see?" She asked quietly, and you nodded, laying your arm around her waist when she sat next to you, long legs folded against her body and leaning snugly against your chest. You listened while she talked about the verse, smiled shyly when she complimented you, nodded seriously when she found a flaw. When she took your pen to illustrate her point, you didn't get angry, even when that was your lucky pen no one was allowed to touch.
You figured, maybe for her, you'd make an exception.
~~~
"Hey, C," Chris said one day while you were napping on the couch, a terrible headache battering your brain. Wearily, you opened your eyes, feeling like death warmed over. "You think maybe you and Bobbie would want to go out to dinner tonight? With me and Lance."
"I can ask her," you muttered, "probably yes. Why?"
"We aren't allowed to, uh, go out like that, and there's this restaurant he loves here. We're only in the city for two nights, right, so um, I want to take him, but management, you know." Chris looked like he hated asking, and you couldn't blame him. "You know Lance and I are together, right?"
"I figured, yeah." You scratched your belly and tried to sit up, but Chris was right there and you couldn't seem to find that extra foot of space you needed. "Sure, we'll go with you. What time did you want to leave?"
"The reservations are for seven, so six-thirty? That good for you?"
You nodded, and when he left, you picked up your cell phone and dialled Bobbie's number, hoping her plane hadn't left. When you explained it all, she agreed to postpone her trip home for a couple days. That was nice, you thought, you hadn't wanted to say goodbye that morning anyway.
You were really starting to miss her when she was gone.
~~~
Bobbie's hands were soft and small, and you loved to watch them write. You didn't care what anyone else thought about it, to you she wrote about women's issues, and you were so proud of her. When she got comfortable enough to start showing you her columns, it became your favourite time of the month, curled up on the couch, catching a glimpse into the lives of girls.
And with it, you caught a glimpse into the life of your girl.
You hadn't noticed how gorgeous the slope of her nose was until now.
You hadn't noticed a lot of things.
~~~
Justin found out about Chris and Lance because he walked in on them, and though Justin didn't say what he saw, you figured it probably involved nudity because Justin look shell-shocked. You and Joey exchanged worried glances because you were both gun-ho about the blossoming relationship, and Justin was in the position to ruin it.
"How did I not know?" Justin asked finally, head buried in his hands while you rubbed his back, and Joey looked on, gnawing at his lower lip. "It's so obvious, yo. How did I not know? It's so fucking obvious. You can practically feel it."
Joey's eyes widened. "What were they doing?"
Justin looked up, fingers pulling at his cheeks while he struggled with this new realisation, and you really didn't blame him. It was like being zapped with lightning, absolutely electric and unearthly. "They were, like, napping together, all tangled and shit, and their hands, they were. They were holding each other's hands in their fucking sleep."
So no nudity, you found out, but something more intimate.
Justin had seen the love like you had.
You wondered if it'd change him like it changed you.
~~~
"I love you," you told Bobbie one morning while she watered her plants, which were now your plants, living on your window sil. She spent so much time with you that she just brought them along with her and expected you to keep them alive when she wasn't there. You treated them as if they were your own.
Bobbie looked at you, brow a little bit furrowed then she smiled, big and brilliant, and wrapped her arms around your waist. She felt so good in your arms, and you were glad you said it because it made her so happy. You'd never told anyone that you loved them to their face before.
You'd never believed in the word until them.
Fin.
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