For bettyp: "Baby, I've been here before, I've seen this room and I've walked this floor / I used to live alone before I knew ya / I've seen your flag on the marble arch, but love is not a victory march / It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah"

"You have an unsingable name," Justin said, his fingertips feather-light against Lance's eyelids. The room was cool and felt just a little bit damp. It was the same climactic problem that every hotel room ever fell prey to: first you turned on the air conditioner to get rid of the heat and the stuffiness, then it got too cold and you turned off the air, but the chill lingered and the humidity never really went away. Sometimes Lance was colder in the summer than any other time of the year.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. He could feel Justin's hand lingering in front of him, present even in the spots where he wasn't touching.

Justin didn't answer. "Have you ever really been in love?" His legs shifted against Lance's. "In your whole life."

"I've loved lots of people." He wanted to open his eyes and see Justin's face, try to figure out what was going on in Justin's head. There were unprobed minefields lurking behind those words. Justin's breath brushed over his shoulder, and he squeezed his eyes a little more tightly closed.

"No," Justin said. "Not loved. Been in love."

Justin's thumb skimmed his lips and Justin's cheek was against his shoulder and Lance was hungry and cold and really needed a shower. They'd done this a thousand times, and it was different every time, except where it was the same. "It's the same thing."

"Is it?" It wasn't the kind of question that required an answer. "I haven't. Been in love, I mean. I thought I was, but I wasn't looking with the right eyes."

"Are you trying to tell me something?" Lance frowned. Justin was hard enough to understand at the best of times.

Justin let his hand fall away from Lance's face. "Just that I've been here before. It's never the same twice, except when it is."

It could have meant any one of a thousand things. Lance wished for a map for the conversation. "Justin, you're not making any sense."

"I know," Justin said. Lance opened his eyes to see Justin looking back at him, inches and miles away. "I'm just saying. I'd never write a song about you."

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