Copyright November 24, 2002-January 28, 2005 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairings: Backstreet Boys/*NSYNC/O-Town

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and O-Town are their own people.  The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life.  This writing is a work of fiction.  I make no money from this venture.

Continued from part fifteen...

        “AJ?” Kevin asked.

        “The fucker hit me,” AJ said.  There was venom in his voice; he pushed down on the gas pedal.  Fuck stop signs.  “The fucker hit me!  My lip is fucking bleeding!  He fucking hit me!”

        “Who?”  Kevin’s voice was sharp.  It was already taken care of.

        “Trevor,” AJ spat.  “Your little fuck actually hit me.”

        “I’ll meet you at your house,” Kevin said.

        A dirty bastard had physically abused Justin Timberlake and had punched Dan.  So, when the dirty bastard came around looking for Dan and acting superior and picking fights, Trevor had hit him.

        But it hadn’t been an asshole off the street; it had been AJ McLean of the Backstreet Boys.  He’d punched AJ.  The guy whose onstage performance was the sexual ultimate.  The guy who rolled and gyrated like he was intentionally drawing forth the budding sexuality in audiences around the world.  AJ had style, AJ had attitude, AJ had moves, AJ had presence.

        And Trevor had hit him.  Fucking hit him.

        The world was ending.

        AJ.  God.  Trevor squeezed his eyes shut.  He’d fucked up with Kevin, he’d seriously fucked up with Kevin, he’d destroyed everything.  Kevin wasn’t going to help him, Kevin wasn’t going to take his calls, Kevin - - god, he’d be lucky if Kevin ever spoke to him again.  God, it had been good, it had been a dream come true, he’d gone to meet Kevin today, they’d had coffee, it had been a landmark day in his life.  And now?  Trevor groaned.  The dream was over.

        Chris, sitting beside him on the bed, nudged the icepack back against his jaw.  “It’s okay.  They’ll let you keep your fan club membership.”

        Trevor couldn’t face his life.  “I hit AJ McLean.”

        “Several times,” Chris said.

        Trevor opened his eyes.  Okay, so not everything was shot to hell.  Chris was here, sitting by his side, looking great.

        Today had been insane.  He’d wakened in Chris’s bed, he’d had coffee with Kevin, he’d sucked Chris’s dick, he’d hit AJ…  Pretty big day.  He’d given the first blowjob of his life and alienated the Backstreet Boys all in a few hours.  Chris Kirkpatrick had jacked his naked dick.  Twice.  Kevin Richardson had paid a valet for him.  Big day.  Crazy day.

        “It’ll be okay,” Chris said, patting his chest.  “You can still go to their concerts.  You just won’t be able to go backstage.”

        God, his life sucked…  “I’m stupid,” Trevor said.  “Why did I have to do it?  Why did I provoke him?”

        “He was being an asshole,” Chris said.

        “You know Nick actually is fucking Ashley,” Trevor said.  “No one’s supposed to know.”

        “I thought Joey was fucking Ashley,” Chris said.

        “They both are.  It’s a whole…thing.  Kind of like JC and Howie and Erik, but not.”

        “Sounds doomed,” Chris said.  “I’ll stick to my nice one-on-one format.”

        “He was bleeding,” Trevor said.  “His lip was bleeding.  I punched him and he started bleeding.  I’m going to hell.”

        “Probably not for that,” Chris said.  He pushed the ice pack back into position.  “Can I get you something?”

        “How much of a dork would I be if I sent AJ a written apology?”

        “A huge one,” Chris said.  “You could try to go see him and apologize, later.  I could try to talk to him for you.”

        “He was acting like…”

        “An asshole,” Chris said for him.

        “And he hit Dan,” Trevor said.  “And he beats up Justin.”

        “That he does,” Chris said.

        “Don’t you hate him?” Trevor asked.

        “Oh, passionately,” Chris said.  “But there’s not a lot I can do about it.  When your friend’s in love with someone who’s bad for him, and he knows it but he keeps going back for more, there’s only so much you can do.”

        “At least Justin’s away from him now,” Trevor said.

        “Justin’ll be back,” Chris said.  “AJ will be waiting for him.  I can’t hide Justin under my bed to keep him away from AJ.  They’re going to run into each other.  And I can’t make Justin do what I want him to do.  It’s up to him.”

        “Why would you go back to someone who treats you like shit?” Trevor demanded.

        “AJ didn’t always treat him like shit,” Chris said.  “Once upon a time, AJ made him feel like he was the brightest star in the sky.  Justin’s staying because he’s trying like hell to get that back.”

        “He’s never going to get it back,” Trevor said.

        Chris shrugged, tugging vaguely on the blanket under them.  “He might.”

        Brian’s fingers brushed his mouth.  “Damn,” Nick said.

        “I’ll get ice,” Howie said, already moving towards the kitchen.

        “I’m fine,” AJ insisted.

        “I assume you didn’t get Dan’s number?” Kevin asked.

        “Chris will get it to me,” AJ said.

        “Did he hit you anywhere else?” Nick asked.

        “I know how to duck,” AJ snapped.  “Aren’t you supposed to be with Jakey?” he asked Brian.  “He’s all dressed up.”

        Brian’s gaze sharpened.  “He was there?”

        “Chris, Trevor, Jacob, Erik,” AJ said.

        “Erik what?” Howie asked, coming back.

        “My pet?” Brian asked.  “And my love?”

        “Erik was there,” Kevin told Howie.  He was leaning back against the newel post, arms crossed over his chest, paying close attention to everything.

        “Don’t pull away,” Howie warned, gently placing the ice pack to AJ’s lower lip.

        “I don’t need this,” AJ said.

        “Humor us,” Brian said.  He was dressed to meet Jacob, wearing dark jeans and a white silk button-down, the top buttons undone to reveal a tight white T-shirt.  When he stepped back from AJ to address everyone, he pushed his hands into his pockets, and his casual posture was an unreal contrast to the lethal knife behind his words.  “We can’t do anything about this, not directly.  Not now.  But those squirming mutants aren’t going to get away with this.  If you ever start to lose focus, think about tonight.”  He looked at AJ.  “They drew first blood.  I say we get the last word.  I say we bleed them dry.”

        While he’d been upstairs, he’d heard the phone ring.  That meant there was an extension somewhere up there.  He slipped into Ashley’s room, and there it was.  He flipped through the call history.  Right there, bold as day, Daniel Miller.  He whispered it to himself until he had it memorized, then went downstairs.

        Erik was in the front room, playing Athletic Rebound IV.  “Trevor doing okay?” Erik asked.

        “Yeah,” Chris said.  “He’s fine.  I told him he didn’t have to burn his fan club membership card.”

        Erik laughed.

        “Hope it didn’t make Jacob late,” Chris said.  That was normal conversation.  He didn’t sound overly nosy.

        “No, he was probably early,” Erik said.  “If Brian doesn’t hear about this whole thing before he gets there, if I were Jacob, I wouldn’t tell him.  Hearing that Jacob’s best friend just got into it with his best friend, Brian might call off the sleepover.”

        Chris’s hearing was on the fritz.  “Sleepover?”

        “Yeah.  Jacob said not to wait up for him tonight.  He’s spending the night at Brian’s.  Nothing sexual, he says, just spending the night.”  Erik made a jacking off motion with his right hand.

        “Sleepover,” Chris repeated, like he didn’t believe a word of it, either.  The truth was, he didn’t know what to believe.  Brian was involved; anything was possible, anything at all.  “I’ll see you later.”

        “See you,” Erik said.

        Chris left the house, getting in his car.  Jacob and Brian were going out.  Jacob and Brian were spending the night together.  Jacob had dressed up for Brian.  Jacob was sleeping at Brian’s house tonight.  Jacob was going to wake up in Brian’s house.  In Brian’s bed?

        Jacob didn’t know that Brian liked to be petted awake.  Jacob didn’t know that Brian liked to nuzzle in the morning, liked to cuddle lazily for a little while first thing in the morning if he didn’t have anywhere special to go.  Jacob didn’t know that Brian got showered and dressed first, and then had breakfast.  Jacob didn’t know that one of Brian’s favorite things was to be surprised with a bowl of Count Chocula; that he never bought it for himself, but whoever gave it to him would be the recipient of happy, chocolatey kisses.  Jacob didn’t know that Brian liked his grapefruit sweetened with fake sugar packets, not real sugar.  Jacob didn’t know that Brian drank two percent, low-fat milk, not whole, not skim.  Except with birthday cake.  Birthday cake had to come with whole milk, or it wasn’t a real birthday.  Jacob didn’t know that Brian liked pancakes in shapes, because they tasted better that way.  Chris had all of the classic Disney characters, and a cloud shape, and a Christmas tree, and a snowman, and-

        -and he dialed Kevin’s number with shaking fingers.

        “Chris.”

        “Four oh seven three five one three seven nine eight.”

        “Dan’s phone number?”

        “Four oh seven three five one three seven nine eight.”

        “Three five one three-”

        “Seven nine eight,” Chris repeated.  “Can I come over?”

        “I’m not home.”

        Chris was not doing his best driving at the moment.  “I have to see you.”  “Nothing sexual, he says, just spending the night.”

        “I’m at AJ’s house.  You know where that is?”

        “Yeah.”

        “All right.”  Kevin hung up.

        Chris tossed his phone into the passenger seat, putting both hands on the wheel to even out his driving.  Nothing sexual.  Just spending the night.  Nothing sexual.  Just spending the night.  Nothing sexual…

        Ashley’s face turned toward his; Ashley smiled.  “What?”

        “Like you’re not used to people staring at you,” Joey said, drawing his fingertips down Ashley’s cheek.

        The only light came from candles and the moon, but Joey knew a modest blush when he saw one.  Ashley blushed beautifully, color creeping into his face, cheeks reddening naturally.  “Thank you for dinner,” Ashley said.

        “You liked it?” Joey asked.  Ashley was leaning in slightly, closer, closer.  Ashley seemed drawn to him; Ashley was always moving closer, shifting nearer, leaning towards him more and more without necessarily being aware of it.

        “It was…romantic,” Ashley admitted.  “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

        “It was my pleasure,” Joey said, and kissed him.  Immediately Ashley was pressing against him, wrapping around him, and he was on his back and Ashley was on top of him.  Things got intense pretty fast; Joey knew what he wanted, and Ashley was quick to respond to his lust.  He knew better than to fuck Ashley outside, so they were going to have to take it into the house, but one more minute couldn’t hurt.  His hand on Ashley’s ass squeezed, pushing-

        Ashley tensed in his arms, then shivered a little.  Not a good shiver, either.  Joey stopped kissing, opening his eyes.  “What?”

        “Nothing,” Ashley said, and kissed him again.

        Joey rolled them over, putting Ashley under his body.  “What?” he repeated.

        “I’m sorry,” Ashley said, stroking his shoulders.  “I didn’t want to ruin the mood.”

        “What’s wrong?”  He kept his voice patient, concerned, but if he had to ask one more time…

        “We did,” Ashley hesitated, stroking his hair, “a  lot last night.”

        He’d considered the implications of it before, but he’d forgotten in the heat of the moment.  “Your ass is sore?”

        Ashley laughed.  “My nipples are sore.  My ass hurts.  Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow morning, but tonight…”

        Damn.  If he couldn’t fuck the bitch, what was the point?  He’d wasted the damned romantic display.

        “It doesn’t have to ruin the evening,” Ashley said.  “We can do other things.”  Ashley’s hands were on his neck, fingers gently rubbing away little knots of tension.  Ashley’s nipples probably were sore.  Joey’d paid them a lot of attention himself, and Nick had spent about half an hour sucking on them at one point.  Curious, testing, Joey brushed his thumb over one through Ashley’s shirt.  Immediately it hardened into a tight nub, and Ashley shuddered beneath him.

        Joey kissed him, kissed him because he was pretty as hell; because the feel of him shuddering under Joey’s body was arousing; because Joey wanted to fuck him; because he’d let them fuck him over and over again last night; because he was a whore, but he was Joey’s whore.

        “I’ll suck your dick,” Ashley whispered, arms around his shoulders.  “I’ll suck it two times.  Three times.  As many as you want.”  Ashley’s kiss was soft, passionate.  “You can come on my face.”  Beautiful face, pretty mouth, obscene words.  “I’ll make it good.”

        Joey was almost fond of the dickslut.  “I know you will,” he said, kissing Ashley again.  “Let’s go inside.”

        Trina’s boyfriend arrived, finally, and she and Katie disappeared.  Relieved, Jacob ordered a drink and watched the band onstage.  If he so much as glanced at the door, he’d spend all night staring at it, willing Brian to appear.

        Brian was going to come.  They were friends, they were so close it went beyond “friendship,” Brian would be there any second.  If he started thinking something like, Brian wouldn’t leave a guy who gave head to hang out with a guy whose best friend had fought his best friend - - no, he couldn’t think like that, that wasn’t fair to Brian.  Brian wouldn’t stand him up without a word.  If Brian knew about Trevor and AJ, and was upset about it, then Brian would come to him, and they’d talk about it.

        Brian was a straightforward guy, an honorable guy.  They had a lot of respect for each other, too much for Brian to stand him up.

        Either the band tonight sucked, or Jacob was starting to hate all sounds in the universe that weren’t Brian’s voice.

        He had too much to think about, like AJ, like Lance, like why he wanted to dress differently for Brian.  He didn’t like this, didn’t like the directions his thoughts were going.  He’d always been committed to himself, been committed to being himself, to keeping his sense of self secure, untainted.  He didn’t know what he was doing anymore.  Was he still being himself?  Was who he was changing?  Was he changing himself?  Was he trying to be something he wasn’t?  Who he was was straight, but who he was was gay, but he’d made choices for himself and he had to stick to them, but maybe they’d been wrong choices, or maybe he could make new choices now.  Were the changes wrong if the motivations were right?  Could the changes be right if the motivations were wrong?  What were his motivations?

        “Is this seat taken?”

        Jacob looked up; Brian was beside him, one hand on the back of a chair, smiling.  “Hi,” Jacob said, feeling himself smile in return.  It was impossible not to return Brian’s smiles.

        “Hi,” Brian said, pulling the chair out, taking a seat.  “I think I just met Trina and Katie.”

        Trina and - - god, he really had told Brian everything about himself.  “Yeah, they’ve been around,” he said.  He couldn’t tell whether Brian knew about AJ or not.  He was going to have to say something.  They really had to talk.

        “Jacob…”  Brian leaned closer to be heard over the music.  His fingers brushed Jacob’s on the tabletop.  “I know I just got here, but could we go somewhere?  We have to talk.”

        Jacob found himself gazing into Brian’s eyes.  He’d formed several close friendships in his life, bonds that he took seriously, deep connections.  But this…  Brian…  It was like nothing else he’d ever experienced.  It was more complex than friendship, nothing so simple as love.  It was…life.  “Yes,” he said.  Yes to Brian’s question.  Yes to questions yet unasked.  Yes to everything.

        AJ opened the door.  “Come in,” AJ said.  It wasn’t exactly a warm greeting, but it wasn’t slap-in-the-face rude, either.

        Chris stepped inside, scanning his surroundings briefly; Kevin wasn’t in sight, but he could hear Nick’s laughter from another room.  “Kevin gave you Dan’s number?”

        “Yeah, I got it,” AJ said.  “Thanks,” he added as an afterthought.  Chris understood; since Chris wasn’t working directly under AJ, technically Chris hadn’t been obligated to get the number.  But since Chris was of the Sync and therefore a lower being, and all of them were working together for a larger purpose, it had been Chris’s job to help AJ.

        “Where’s Kevin?”  It was an alternative to asking, “Where’s Brian?”  AJ would know where Brian was, what Brian’s plans were.  Chris wanted to know, had to know, couldn’t know.

        “Kevin,” AJ called.  “Your boy’s here.”  AJ started to move down the hallway; Chris heard him say, “You can use any room you want - - except my room, not there.”

        Then Kevin appeared, looking mostly patient and vaguely irritated.  “How’d it go with Trevor?”

        Trevor?  Right.  “He sucked my dick,” Chris said.

        “Really.”  Kevin seemed almost interested.  “How was it?”

        “Not bad, for his first time.”  Chris didn’t know how much detail Kevin wanted.  “He learns pretty fast.”

        Kevin’s gaze flickered over him quickly, then again more slowly.  Chris didn’t know what he was looking for.  “You look good,” Kevin said, meeting his eyes again.

        Chris hadn’t expected that.  “You, uh, thank you,” he said, suddenly flustered.  “Thanks.  I, uh, my hair, it’s probably a mess, I, uh I-”

        “No,” Kevin said, reaching out and touching it lightly.  “I like it.”

        Apocalypse.  This was one of the signs of the apocalypse.  It was sign number eighteen, maybe, or nineteen.

        Kevin dropped his hand.  “Did you want to…”

        “Take a one-room, one-hour tour of AJ’s house?” Chris asked.

        Kevin smiled at him.  Sign number eleven.  “Yeah.”

        “Yeah,” Chris said.  “Now, or sooner.”

        “Okay,” Kevin said.  “Come on.”

        “I talked to AJ,” Brian said.

        “I’m sorry,” Jacob said.

        “He said you were there.”

        “I was,” Jacob said.  “I was there, and AJ was acting like an asshole.  Trevor shouldn’t have hit him, but AJ was asking for it.  I asked him to leave, and he only got more hostile.”

        “Dan just ran off with his boyfriend all the way to New York,” Brian said.

        “The way I heard it, Justin broke up with AJ, and asked Dan to go with him for protection in case AJ followed him,” Jacob said.

        “Justin and AJ’s relationship is none of Dan’s business,” Brian said.

        “Dan’s not going to stand by while someone’s beating up one of his friends,” Jacob said.  “Neither’s Trevor.  AJ’s come into our house before, and he punched Dan, bruised his face the morning of a shoot.  He came into our house again, we asked him to leave, he acted like an asshole, and he and Trevor got into it.”

        They walked in silence.

        “I don’t know what to think,” Brian said.  “Someone punched AJ so hard he’s bleeding, and you were there, and it was your best friend.”

        “AJ’s not exactly innocent.  They both got in some good body blows.  But I’m not responsible for Trevor’s actions any more than you’re responsible for AJ’s,” Jacob said.

        “I’d never let AJ attack someone if I were there to stop it,” Brian said.

        “We live our own lives,” Jacob said.  “I don’t like everything they’re doing, but I can’t control them.”

        More walking, more silence.

        “I’m sorry for what happened,” Jacob said.  “It shouldn’t have gone down like that.”

        “I’m sorry, too,” Brian said.  “AJ’s been so upset lately, so angry - - and it’s driving him crazy, losing Justin like that.  He was wrong, and he never should have come to your house like that.  But he loves Justin, and he can’t stand being without him.”

        If AJ wanted Justin in his life, then AJ had to treat Justin better.  Basic principle of life.  Treating people like shit and then expecting them to stick around just didn’t work.  Shouldn’t work, anyway.

        That was why he was giving the best of himself to Brian.  He was getting the best of Brian in return.  He wasn’t even sure what the worst of Brian was.  He’d told Brian about his pushy, controlling tendencies and his tendency to hold people to high standards and tell people off.  Brian had told him of a tendency to judge, of a conscious effort not to come across as self-righteous.  A lot of people - - say, ninety-nine percent of the industry they were in - - didn’t understand conformity to a higher moral standard.  Jacob got it, though, and was glad to find someone else who was on the same page he was.  They could support each other.

        He was concerned, though, that Brian’s higher moral standard allowed him to let Lance suck his dick.  He’d thought that Brian would be above that, but he’d been wrong.  If Brian would tell him what was going on, they could talk about it; but since he hadn’t heard it directly from Brian, he wasn’t supposed to know about it.

        If they were as close as he thought they were, Brian would tell him.

        “How’s everything with Lance?”

        “Oh, fine,” Brian said. “He’s fine.  I’m sorry I had to miss everything.  I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

        “So you guys are…friends?”

        “All of my friends are hooking up with all of his friends,” Brian said, like it really was kind of funny.  “I guess we just got stuck with each other.”  Jacob looked up in time to see Brian flash him a smile.  “Kind of like you and me.”

        Yeah, except Jacob was more important to Brian than Lance was.  And closer to Brian than Lance was.  And not sucking Brian’s dick.  “I guess I just didn’t think you’d have much in common.”

        “He’s a good guy,” Brian said.  “He’s really nice, he’s smarter than your average brick, he believes in God and loves his mama - - that’s most of what I require in a friend.  I show him respect.  He shows me a good time.”

        A good time.  Jacob wanted to throw something into the lake, violently.  Lance, if possible.  But he was closer to Brian than Lance was.  Lance wouldn’t know that “smarter than your average brick” was Brian’s way of saying “a pretty intelligent guy, especially in the industry,” from the time Kevin had said it about AJ.  Then again, Lance knew things about Brian that Jacob didn’t, like what Brian looked like naked, or what he sounded like when he came, or how he kissed.

        Did they kiss?  If it was just a gay guy giving head to a straight guy, they probably didn’t kiss.  Jacob sure as hell wouldn’t kiss Lance.  But Brian was a nice guy, so maybe Brian would kiss Lance, because not kissing him at least a little bit might seem insulting.  Brian had just said, “I show him respect.”  What did that mean?

        Brian stopped walking.  Jacob stopped too, facing him, and his fingers brushed Jacob’s side.  “It’s getting pretty late.  Do you want to come back to my place?”

        “Yeah,” Jacob said.  Brian’s touch had been like a jolt of electricity all through his body.  “Sure.”  He wanted to see where Brian lived.  He wanted to wander through the rooms of Brian’s house.  He wanted to know every inch of Brian’s home, be as familiar with it as he was with his own.

        Since he kept coming on Ashley’s face, now his dick was associating the idea of it with orgasm, and he was really starting to get off on it.  The sight of his cum splattered across those high cheekbones, Ashley’s face raised to catch the thick spurts of it, smearing the wet head over those eager, parted lips - - god, he got hard just thinking about it.

        While Ashley was in the bathroom washing his face, Joey sent a text message to Nick.

        Ashley came back, sliding under the covers with him, pressing sleek and muscular into his embrace.  Joey kissed his neck, and he laughed a little, wrapping his arms around Joey.  “Thank you for today,” Ashley said.  “I had a great time.”

        “So did I,” Joey said.  He planted a final kiss under Ashley’s jaw and looked into Ashley’s eyes.  “I always have a good time when I’m with you, pretty.”  He brushed his fingertips through Ashley’s hair, watching Ashley get starry-eyed.  “I could spend all of my time with you and still want more.”

        “Joey,” Ashley said, his voice softer now.  “I want that, too.”  Joey kissed him, gently, just a little tongue, waiting for it, waiting for it…  “I love you,” Ashley whispered.  A little harder, more tongue, feeling fucking smug but trying not to show it.

        The phone rang.

        Perfect.

        “Hold on, pretty,” Joey said, extricating himself from Ashley’s embrace.  He picked up his phone, rolling back to Ashley, getting close again.  “You got Joey.”

        “Hi, honey, how was your day?” Nick asked.

        Joey chuckled.  “Good, good.  How about you?”

        “Up and down,” Nick said.  “Don’t tell Ashley, but his little friends are in serious fucking trouble.”

        “Yeah?” Joey asked, making his tone vaguely curious, running his fingers up and down Ashley’s spine.  “What happened?”

        “AJ went over to their place to get Dan’s number, and Trevor and Jacob and Erik and Chris were there, and they all got into it, and Trevor and AJ threw a few punches.”

        Calm, easy, calm.  Joey forced himself not to react, not to tense, just calm, easy, calm.  “Really?”

        “Yeah.  AJ wants to see you.  So, whenever you can ditch Ashley…”

        God.  AJ wanted to see him.  AJ.  Joey closed his eyes.  “Yeah.  Okay.”

        He could hear Nick’s smirk.  “Liked that, did you?”

        Nick’s tone was amused, familiar, and he had to laugh.  “Yeah, a little bit.”

        “You get to fuck Ashley tonight?”

        “No.  We worked out something else.”

        “Guess we worked him a little hard last night.”

        Joey laughed.  “That’s an understatement.”

        “So, call me tomorrow.  Keep me informed.”

        “I will,” Joey promised.

        “Say hi to Ashley for me.”

        “I will.”

        “I love you,” Nick said.

        Nick said it so naturally, it was easy for Joey to say, “I love you, too,” well aware of Ashley’s eyes on him.

        “Good night,” Nick said.

        “Good night,” Joey said.  He hung up, twisting away to set down the phone.  He came back to Ashley, bringing Ashley into his embrace.  He kissed Ashley, Ashley’s mouth uncertain.  “Nick says hi.”

        Ashley looked confused, unhappy and struggling to hide it.

        Joey kissed him again, persisting until Ashley started to kiss him back, taking his pleasure from Ashley’s mouth.  God, AJ.  AJ wanted to see him.  AJ wanted him.

        AJ had been hit.  One of those fucking bastards had punched AJ.

        He’d go to AJ.  He’d ditch Ashley first thing in the morning and find AJ.  He wanted to see for himself that AJ was okay.  He’d have to get rid of Ashley without getting off; he wanted to be at peak performance for AJ.  Since sex was all Ashley was good for, the bitch’s feelings might be hurt at being dismissed without getting fucked, but Ashley’d get over it.

        AJ.  Joey’s dick was twitching already.

        Chris’s sex life was experiencing a serious boost today.  Kevin, then Trevor, then Kevin again.  Being with Kevin was about forgetting reality, about putting his body through something so intense he could lose himself in it and escape the harsh, demanding whirlwind inside his brain.  Being with Trevor was about falling in love but not, about following a script but also living a certain reality, about going through the motions but also meaning them sincerely.  Both Kevin and Trevor were alternatives to Brian.  Kevin was his link to Brian; Trevor was the life he might have had if Brian had never been.

        Recovered, Chris got up, getting dressed.  It was probably time to go, since Kevin had friends to get back to, and he had to go home and lick Brian’s watch some more.  Kevin was already dressed, and sitting back down on the bed.  Hmm.

        “Come here,” Kevin said.

        He probably had instructions for future encounters with Trevor.  Chris pulled his shirt on and sat.

        Kevin reached over, fixing his collar for him.  “What’s on your mind?”

        What?  That wasn’t how this went.  “What?”  Kevin’s behavior was baffling, with the touching and the compliments and the asking questions.  Kevin didn’t care what he was thinking about.

        “You came here for a reason,” Kevin said.

        He’d come for sex, and he’d gotten it.  But he saw Kevin’s point.  He’d wanted sex for a reason.  “Jacob’s sleeping at Brian’s house tonight.”

        “Who told you?” Kevin asked.

        “Erik.”  Chris twisted a piece of sheet in his fingers.  “Are they having sex?”

        “Brian and Jacob?” Kevin asked.  “Not yet.  They haven’t even kissed yet.”

        They hadn’t kissed yet.

        “But my body’s starved for love, Chris.  I can’t wait for him to make love to me.  I would give anything to feel his big, hard dick plunging deep inside my body.  I want Jacob’s hands all over me, owning me, possessing me the way yours once did.  I want to take his dick in my mouth and suck it the way I’ll never suck yours again.”

        Chris twisted onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillows.

        “I want to take his dick in my mouth and suck it the way I’ll never suck yours again.”

        It took supreme effort not to scream in agony just at the memory of Brian’s words, the sincerity of Brian’s tone, the pain in Brian’s eyes...

        “I would give anything to feel his big, hard dick plunging deep inside my body.”

        Brian was killing him.  How could...  He’d give anything, anything, anything at all, he, that little fucker, Jacob wasn’t - - Brian was - - Chris-

        A broad hand was rubbing his back.

        He was being comforted?

        By Kevin?

        Wary now, Chris raised his head.  Kevin was lounging at his side, rubbing his back.  He didn’t know what to say to that.  Kevin went through brief periods of being suspiciously nice to him, but this was new.

        Kevin had Brian’s jaw and Brian’s cheekbones and Brian’s genetics.  Kevin had a key to Brian’s house and was a major part of Brian’s life.  Brian loved Kevin.  Kevin had access to Brian’s belongings and sometimes handed them over.  Kevin was the best lover Chris had ever had, besides Brian.  Kevin made his life more bearable and now was being nice to him.

        “Will you be my boyfriend?”

        Kevin kissed him, gently, on the lips.  “I don’t think so.”

        “I love you,” Chris said.  “I really do, I just love you, you’re wonderful.”  He wrapped his arm around Kevin’s neck, burying his face against Kevin’s shoulder.

        Kevin patted his back.  “I thought you were in love with Brian.”

        His voice was muffled.  “Brian hurts.”

        The pats became soothing, steady strokes.

        “I’d rather be in love with you,” Chris said.  “You’re direct.  You’re clear.  You tell me what you want from me.”  He raised his head, meeting Kevin’s eyes.  “Plus you’re nice to me.  I’m a sucker for that.”

        Kevin’s smile was small but amused.  His kiss was brief and soft.  “I know Brian lies to you, Chris.  I know you can’t trust him.”

        Technically speaking, that was true, but Chris didn’t necessarily like having it pointed out to him.

        “I promise.”  Kevin stroked his spine.  “Between you and me, I’ll always tell you the truth.”

        With Kevin, what he saw was what he got.  Kevin was direct.  God, it was beautiful.  “I adore you.”

        Another kiss.  “I like that in a man.”

        Chris laughed.  It was funny, because it was true; and it was true, because Kevin was honest with him; and this was maybe as close to happiness as Chris could get, without Brian being involved.

        “Yes,” JC said.  He wanted it.  He wanted it for Nick.  He wanted it because Nick wanted it.

        “You don’t seem sure.”

        “I’m sure,” he said.  He was sweating, and his hands were shaking, and his voice sounded desperate even to his own ears.  He was terrified.  But he’d done this before.  Not this exactly.  But if he’d done that, he could do this.  This was one needle, one time.  That had been a lot of - - god, he re-scared himself just thinking about it.  But Nick had been with him, then.  Now he was alone.

        If he did this, he wouldn’t be alone.

        “I don’t want a lawsuit or anything.”

        One needle, one time.  He’d do it for Nick.  Once and done, and it would be over, and Nick would be happy.  It was cheaper than a Jaguar.  It was going to hurt, but pain was fine, pain he could handle, it was the fucking needle - - but if he didn’t think about it, didn’t think at all, just closed his eyes and pretended it was anything but a needle.  JC clenched his hands as tightly as he could, squeezing his eyes shut.  “Do it.”

        He didn’t know Brian.  He didn’t want Brian.  He didn’t trust Brian.  He was interested in Brian because he was pushing himself to be; he wanted to try being with Brian because it was an alternative to Howie.

        Howie was pushing him away.  Brian was pulling him in.  He would have struggled with Howie forever, wanted to, but Brian was tugging at him, guiding him closer, beckoning with those smiles, those eyes.

        He felt no heat for Brian.  There was no passion between them.  He felt the rising warmth of Brian’s desire, but it wasn’t sweeping him up the way Howie had.

        But Brian was all about intimacy.  Sharing.  And Lance wanted that.

        He couldn’t cut himself off from Howie.  He couldn’t stop feeling the love, the lust, the urgency, the willingness to do anything and be anything for this one, all-important person and this one, all-consuming passion.

        But he didn’t have to sit at home, twiddling his thumbs, waiting for Howie to call.  He didn’t have to end his social life or his sex life over it.  If he wanted to try something with Brian, to see what it was really like to get those things that Howie was denying him, then that was his right.  That was his choice.

        It was the most full-service spa Dan had ever visited in his limited experience.  Now, massaged, manicured, pedicured, waxed, steamed, exfoliated, fed, trimmed, and relaxed to the point where his bones were limp spaghetti, he felt at peace with the world.  He felt so at peace, he fell asleep in the back of the car on the way to the hotel.

        Justin nudged him awake, and he followed Justin and Ty through the bowels of the hotel.  Yawning, he walked onto the elevator, slumping against the mirrored wall.

        “Hey.”  Grinning that amused grin that Dan loved to see, the one that said Justin truly enjoyed life, Justin patted his cheek.  “You awake?”

        “My muscles,” he yawned again, “are Jell-O.”  He smiled at Justin.  “I had a great time.”

        Justin’s smile was radiant.  “I wanted you to.”

        Most of Dan’s brain was in a blissful place, but the remaining bits came up with, “Why?”

        “To thank you,” Justin said.  The elevator must have stopped, because Justin was hooking a finger through a belt loop and tugging him into the hallway.  “I know you’re having a shitty time.  You’re putting up with all of my crap, when none of it has anything to do with you.”

        Dan leaned against the wall, waiting for Ty to check out the rooms.  “I’m having a good time.  I’m having a great time.  You’re great.  If I wanted to hang out with people who were only happy all of the time and never had any problems, I’d live with the Teletubbies.  You’re a real person with real problems.  Everybody is.  It’s just different people, different problems.”

        Ty came out and told them it was okay.  They said good night to him and went inside.  Dan got as far as the sofa and then sat.  The cushions were so comfortable, he thought he might just stay there.  “Are you sure that was champagne they gave us?”

        “Yeah,” Justin said, sitting beside him.  “Did you have too much?”

        “I don’t think I’m used to getting the full pampered treatment,” Dan said, closing his eyes.  “God, I feel good.  There’s something about having a beautiful woman rub your feet that will never go out of style.”

        Justin laughed, a warm sound.  “Did that help you get over the trauma with the razor?”

        “He wanted to shave off my beard!” Dan protested, opening his eyes.  Justin was laughing again.  “I let them do the eyebrows, but there are some places I just won’t go.  The facial hair stays, man.  It defines my jaw.”  He paused.  “Besides, without it, I look eighteen.”

        “He just wanted to trim it up a little,” Justin said, still chuckling.

        “Yeah, well, I had to watch him like a hawk.”  Dan ran his thumb across the hair on his chin, checking.  “He had some radical ideas about me being clean-shaven, that I was just not down with.”

        “You’d look good clean-shaven,” Justin said.

        “Eighteen,” Dan said.  “I notice you’re sticking with the naked face.”

        Justin shrugged, uncomfortable.  “AJ likes it.”

        Dan thought that sounded like a great reason to grow a beard like ZZ Top, but said nothing.

        Justin turned his body to face Dan, drawing one leg up on the couch.  “You had a good time?”

        “I had a great time,” Dan said.  “I am beyond relaxed.  The massage, the champagne, beautiful women tending to my every need…  I could live there.”  It had been a great experience.  He’d really enjoyed being pampered.  But it hadn’t all been about having his nails buffed.  He’d gone through it all, step by step, with Justin.  It had been a shared experience, and that had been the best part.  They’d talked, about work and New York and football and basketball and JC’s new album and concerts they’d gone to and why Dan didn’t want his nails painted red.  They’d debated whether or not to get tans, and he’d talked Justin into getting a pedicure for the hell of it, and Justin had talked him into trying unidentifiable but vaguely edible foods, and he’d almost died from not laughing out loud when Justin had made fun of the manicurist behind her back for thirty-five minutes straight.

        “You look great,” Justin said.  Dan realized that his eyes were closed again, and wondered when that had happened.  “You already did,” Justin added, “you always do, but now you look even better.  Your skin’s glowing.  You look incredible.”  Justin’s voice was getting softer, and Dan wondered if he was falling asleep, when he felt the ghost of a touch cross his cheek.  He opened his eyes, and Justin was right there, close, inches away.  Justin’s fingers grazed his cheek, traced down his newly trimmed sideburn, and Dan thought that Justin’s eyes were the most amazing shade of blue he’d ever seen.

        “I think I’m asleep,” he said.

        Justin smiled, withdrawing his hand.  “The penthouse comes with a bed.”

        “You live a life of luxury.”

        Somehow, Dan found the fortitude to brush his teeth and take off his clothes before crawling into the bed.  Justin got in beside him, and he rolled onto his side, pulling his pillow into position.  He yawned, closing his eyes, and when he opened them, the light was off.  “What’s going on tomorrow?  Shopping?”

        “Shopping,” Justin agreed.  “Then more shopping.  Then we’ll visit a club or two.”

        “Sounds good.  How do you usually get all of the new clothes home?  Do you buy new suitcases, or do the stores just ship everything in crates?”

        Justin laughed.  “That depends on how much we buy.”

        Dan liked hearing Justin laugh.  It was a good sound, a happy sound.  He closed his eyes.  The bed was comfortable.  “I think I forgot to call the guys today.”

        Justin sounded drowsy.  “You can call them in the morning.”

        “Yeah.”  He’d buy them something.  Tomorrow.  He wondered when Justin wanted to wake up.  He didn’t intend to wake up for days.  Too relaxed.

        “Dan?”

        “Yeah.”

        “Thanks.”

        Relaxed wasn’t even the word.  He felt more like he was one with the bed.  “Justin.”

        Sleepy, “Yeah.”

        Not getting up for days.  “Thanks.”

        Now that he had his love in direct light, Brian could appreciate that Jacob had definitely dressed up for the occasion.  Jacob was turning slowly, taking everything in, and Brian took the opportunity to gaze.  “Look at you,” he said.

        Jacob gave him an embarrassed smile.  “I know I look like a freak.”

        “No,” Brian said, reaching out and stroking his shirt.  “You look great.  I like it.  I’ve never seen this side of you.”

        “I’m not sure it is a side of me.”  Jacob was blushing; he’d shivered a little at the touch.

        “I’ve never seen you in diamonds.”  Brian raised his hand, touching Jacob’s ear, letting his fingers stroke back into Jacob’s hair.

        “They’re not real,” Jacob said.  “They’re not mine, either.  They’re Ashley’s.”

        Brian lowered his hand, fingers grazing Jacob’s shoulder on the way.  He looked right into Jacob’s eyes, smiling.  “You hate this, don’t you.”

        Jacob grinned back.  “Can’t stand it.”

        “I’ll get you something else to wear home, so once it’s off, you won’t have to put it on again.”  He squeezed Jacob’s hand.  “Come on, let me give you the five-cent tour.”

        It was a big house, larger than his, for just one person.  “Do you even need a house this size?”

        “Not really,” Brian said.  “But the more rooms you have in your house, the easier it is to get laid.”  He laughed.

        “AJ?” Jacob guessed.

        “Nick,” Brian said.  “He hates rattling around in his place alone, he thinks it’s way too big for just him, but his dates always love it, so he’s keeping it.  Same with me, I guess.  I don’t know who I think I’m impressing, since I’m not really dating much.  But it’s a nice place.  Want to see the showcase?”

        “Showcase?” Jacob asked.  Not really dating much.  They’d talked about everything, including old girlfriends, but they hadn’t addressed their current sex lives.  Maybe because Brian had things to hide, like Lance.  Not really dating much, for a reason?  For no real reason?  Because of Lance?  Because of factors that had nothing to do with Lance?

        “Yeah, in here.”  Brian opened a door and flipped a switch.  “Proof of my bragging rights.”

        There was so much polished metal in the room, it almost created a glare.  Gold records, platinum records, covered the walls.  Awards were in a case.  Best song, best album, album of the year, song of the year, artist of the year, 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001…  Radio Music Awards, American Music Awards, Billboard, People’s Choice, World Music Awards, VMA’s...

        “Some of it’s back home,” Brian said.

        Back home.  His other house, in Kentucky.  There was more?

        “Come on.”  Brian tugged him out of the room, turning off the light.  “I try not to spend too much time in there.  It overinflates my ego.”

        He’d never seen anything like that.  That volume of it.  Going back years.  “You started this in 1993?”

        “Yep.”  Brian seemed unconcerned.

        He’d been thirteen.  Brian had done all of this, become that internationally famous, become that huge, broken all of that ground, since he’d been thirteen.

        “I write in here.  Nick calls it my sanctuary.”

        It felt like a sanctuary.  Stepping inside, Jacob felt a real sense of peace.  The colors were soft; the room was open, airy, with more windows than wall space, to let the sunlight pour in during the day.  There was even a skylight; Jacob looked up and saw stars glittering overhead.  The space under the skylight, at the center of the room, was scattered with pillows; papers were tucked under one pillow, and two guitars stood within easy reach.

        Jacob was struck with a serious case of guitar envy, and had to look away quickly.  Clearly, there were benefits to having a lot of money.  And probably some important connections, too, because they didn’t hand out that kind of merchandise on the street.  “Where’d you get that?”

        “Hmm?  That one, I bought through our manager.  That one, a friend gave to me.”

        A friend gave him - - Jacob’s friends wouldn’t empty the fucking dishwasher for him.

        “We could sit down and play, but if we get into music, we’ll be up until noon,” Brian said.  “Come on, let’s go to bed.  We can come back in here in the morning.”

        Jacob followed him out, sneaking another look on the way.  A friend had given it to him?  “A friend,” no name, that meant it wasn’t one of the Boys.  Lance?  God, he was having serious Lance issues.  Of course it wasn’t Lance.  It didn’t even matter who it was.  What mattered was the he was in Brian’s house, and Lance wasn’t, and neither was whoever had given Brian that guitar.  “How much did that cost?”

        “The Gibson?” Brian asked.  “Um, about seven or eight thousand, but it’s just for messing around.”

        Messing around?  “What about the…”

        “The Martin?  I think about thirty-five thousand, but that’s probably low.  Everybody tells me I’m not actually supposed to use it, but I can’t keep my hands off of it.”

        He stared.  “What year is it?”

        “Forty-two.”

        A ’42 Martin?  In this house?  He’d just been that close to a - - Jacob was about to have a fatal orgasm.  “How does it sound?”

        Brian smiled at him.  “Even better than you’d imagine.”  He stepped into another room, flipping on a light.  “This is my bedroom.”

        Shades of blue.  King-sized bed.  One door, ajar, no doubt leading to a closet.  Coins and silver jewelry scattered atop a dresser, along with framed pictures.  Flat-panel TV mounted on one wall.

        “You can have one of the other rooms, if you want,” Brian said.  “I just think, if you’re in another room, I won’t even know you’re here, and there’s no point to sleeping over.”

        He was going to sleep in Brian’s bed.  Did Lance sleep in Brian’s bed?  “No, this is fine.”

        “I think the bathroom was on the tour,” Brian said.

        “Yeah, I got it,” he said with a grin.

        “There should be a toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.”

        The bathroom was across the hall, and Jacob took alone time behind a closed door to compose himself.  Showcase.  ’42 Martin.  Lance.  King-sized bed.  Multi-multi-multi-platinum.  Lance.  But none of that was important.  Brian was Brian.  He knew Brian.  He understood Brian.  Brian had a big career, so Brian had a lot of money, and money bought things.  But at the core of everything was music.  Music made Brian money.  Brian spent money buying guitars.

        And mysterious friends spent money buying Brian guitars.  Mysterious friends who weren’t Lance, and maybe Jacob was realizing that he didn’t know everything about Brian’s life, but he was learning more every day, and that was the point.  The point wasn’t that he didn’t know every last detail about Brian; the point was that he was learning Brian, he was coming to know Brian, he understood Brian better and better every day.

        He knew Brian, and Brian knew him, and that was what was important.

        Lance wasn’t important.

        Jacob left the bathroom, and Brian went in, and Jacob hesitated.  He didn’t want to undress yet, because he didn’t feel like standing around in his underwear.  He glanced at the photographs framed on top of the dresser.  Family members and, surprise, the Boys.  No girlfriends, as far as he could tell.  There was some nice jewelry, too, some really nice crosses, an expensive-looking watch, a heavy silver ring that, hmm, what was…  It had something written inside it, calligraphy etched there, one word, all lowercase, “forever.”

        That had to be from a girlfriend.

        “Hey.”  Brian walked over beside him, setting down a cell phone, a watch, a cross.  “If you need anything, elbow me in the face or something, and I’ll wake up.”

        Jacob grinned.  “I’ll try that.”

        Brian flashed him a smile, unbuttoning the outer white shirt.  Jacob toed out of his shoes, raising his hands to his hair to-

        “Let me do that.”  Directly in front of him, Brian gently brushed his hands aside, reaching behind him.  Surprised, Jacob held still, feeling a slow, steady tug as Brian pulled the rubber band from his hair.  His dreads fell free, and Brian buried both hands in his hair, gazing into his eyes.  Right there, close enough to touch, close enough to…

        A small, warm smile, lit gently from the inside.  “Now you look more like you.”  Brian’s hands lowered slowly, releasing his hair.  “Did you pick this outfit on your own?”

        “No,” Jacob said, so stunned he wasn’t quite sure he could move.  Had Brian just…  “Erik did it.”

        “You know you can’t let other people determine anything about you,” Brian said, stepping back, taking off the silk shirt.  Brian’s arms had a nice amount of muscle, the tattoos on his left arm dark against his pale skin.  “You’d be the first to tell me not to let anyone decide how to talk, walk, or dress.”

        “I know, I know.”  Brian was acting like nothing had happened, so maybe…  Jacob unbuttoned his own shirt, going with the flow.  “He thought he was doing me a favor.”

        “Well-meaning friends,” Brian said.  He opened the door to his closet, tossing his silk shirt inside, stripping out of his T-shirt as well.  Jacob had never seen his naked chest before.  His nipples were so…distracting…  Flat and so…pink...  “You have to love them, but sometimes they can do the most damage.”

        “Tell me about it,” Jacob said, trying to follow the conversation.  He let his own shirt fall to the floor over his shoes.

        Brian sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his socks.  “How are the guys?”

        “Crazy,” Jacob said, taking off his own socks.  “Completely sucked in.  I haven’t really talked to them about it in a minute, and I’m not sure I want to, right now.  Ashley thinks he’s in love with Joey, Erik spends all of his time with JC and Howie, Dan ran off to New York with Justin, and now Trevor’s leaving his bedroom with Chris, wearing his ‘just got laid’ grin.  I can’t stand any of it.”

        “You think Trevor and Chris are getting serious?” Brian asked, rising, unbuttoning his fly.

        “I think Trevor and Chris are getting busy,” Jacob muttered.  “Serious, probably, they’re always together, like they’re a package item.  And you know Trevor has a serious hard-on for anything boy band-related.  He’s like a pop whore.”

        Brian laughed, pushing down his jeans.

        Jacob managed to peel himself out of the leather.  “I don’t know why I even own this stuff.”

        “It’s part of the pop star starter kit,” Brian said.  “You should see me in mine.”  His laughter was highly amused.  “No, you shouldn’t.”  He closed the closet door and turned back the sheets.  “I’m not setting the alarm.  Remember, need anything, just elbow.”  He turned on a lamp, then flicked off the overhead light, getting into the bed.

        Jacob got in on the other side, nearest the door.  The bed was soft, the pillows heavenly.  He rolled onto his side, facing Brian; Brian faced him as well.  “It’s funny,” Brian said.  The gentle affection in his eyes warmed Jacob inside.  “I don’t have to call you tonight.”  He touched Jacob’s naked shoulder briefly, gently.  “You’re right here.”

        Jacob had never felt so…loved.  So special, so important, so warmed by someone else’s heartfelt affection for him.

        Brian’s next smile was one of surprised recognition.  He looked like he wanted to laugh.  “Look at you.  Waif-thin like one of those cologne ad models, with this tangle of hair, and these diamonds.”  He did laugh, brushing Jacob’s hair back with a gentle touch, fingertips skimming Jacob’s ear.  Jacob suppressed a shiver, nipples hardening.  “I like it.  It’s, it’s sexy,” Brian said, with another laugh, his smile happy.  Brian enjoyed everything, enjoyed life, enjoyed him.  And if Brian didn’t stop touching him, he was going to have to find another bed for the night.

        Brian tucked his dreads behind his ear.  “You’re my best friend,” Brian said softly.  “I’m not even sure how I found you.”

        “We were meant to be together,” Jacob said.  God, the emotions inside him, jumbled, intense, he wanted to pull Brian into his arms, against his body, and-

        “I love you,” Brian said, gazing into his eyes, hand slipping from his hair, fingers curling against his neck, just beneath his chin.

        “I love you,” Jacob said.  The blue of Brian’s eyes was shimmering with emotion, crystalline, a prism.

        There had never been a moment more perfect.

        He tried what had seemed to work before.  Getting into the bed, he spooned up behind Justin, holding Justin in his arms.  Justin shivered slightly, but subsided, growing calm.

        He’d slept with guys before, in the same room, even in the same bed.  He’d just never cuddled a guy.  Except Justin.  It wasn’t exactly something he’d expected to do once, not to mention repeatedly.  But it seemed to work.  And considering how bad Justin’s nightmares seemed to get, he couldn’t just ignore the issue.

        So, he fell asleep with Justin in his arms.

        JC was furious with himself.  He’d sworn he’d never do it.  He had a strict anti-needle policy.  He’d said he’d never get anything pierced, not anything, never.  Especially not there, no matter how much he knew Nick wanted it.

        But Nick did want it.  And he couldn’t deny Nick anything.

        But now what?  This was going to put a serious glitch in his sex life.  He was going to have to tell Howie about it.  His life was his life, and his decisions were his decisions, and it didn’t matter what Howie thought.  But since their seduction of Erik centered around sex, and he couldn’t perform the same way until the piercing healed, his decision affected Howie.

        Stupid, he was stupid.  Why had he done this to himself?  At least for the tattoo, Nick had been there, supporting him, encouraging him, holding his hand and giving him that smile that made his heart beat so fast, as long as he focused on looking at Nick, he didn’t even notice the needle.

        He’d shaved, to clear the area.  His naked genitals looked ridiculous.

        Erik hadn’t noticed the tattoo, before, but it was more than obvious now.  JC wasn’t looking forward to explaining it, especially in front of Howie.  His usual vaguely mysterious non-answer was going to have to suffice.

        Where had he put it?  Dan disentangled himself from Justin, getting out of the bed.  His phone was probably still in his pants, and his pants were on the floor.  What time was it?  “Hello?”  God, it was just past five o’clock.

        “White bread.”

        For one confused second, that made absolutely no sense.  Then memory triggered, and anger flashed through Dan, burning quickly.  His first instinct was to curse AJ out, to yell, to accuse, to fight.  But fuck AJ, fuck AJ to hell, Dan’s concern was Justin.  “Don’t ever call me again,” he whispered furiously, and hung up, turning off the ringer.  He shoved the phone back into his pocket, hiding it away, and got back into bed.

        He found his warm spot again, tucking in behind Justin, who pressed back against him intimately.  He put his arms around Justin, holding him, comforting him in sleep.  Fuck AJ.  AJ was miles away, states away, with no power over them here.  He wasn’t going to let AJ interrupt Justin’s vacation.  He wasn’t going to let AJ upset him, either.

        He decided not to tell Justin that AJ had called.  He didn’t need to burden Justin with more problems.

        AJ had to give it to him; Dan had balls.  He’d noticed that right away, and it seemed to be consistent.  It was a shame, almost; Dan might have been partially tolerable under other circumstances.

        Little boys weren’t ready to play in the big leagues.  They should have known they weren’t ready for it, and stayed the hell at home.  But they’d all jumped up and raced out there, arrogant enough and mindless enough to think they could handle it.  They couldn’t begin to handle it.  They weren’t good enough, smart enough, fast enough, or strong enough.  They were children in an adult world.  They had to be punished and sent home, crying to their mommies.

        This was not a level playing field.  The five of them had the home court advantage.  And they intended to keep it.

        “Not at six o’clock in the fucking morning,” Erik said, scratching his ass and starting down the stairs.  “I hope it’s not AJ again.”

        “Are we the only ones home?”  That was weird.  They were all home less and less these days.  Trevor couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent the day together.  There had been that fucked-up photo shoot, but even then Erik hadn’t been there.

        Whoever was out there must have put his finger on the doorbell and held it there, because the chimes were going off incessantly, which was irritating as hell.  Erik opened the door impatiently.  “What-”

        Erik shut up immediately, which was new, so Trevor came closer, standing right behind him to see…who…

        Nick Carter seemed a lot bigger in person.

        With that “you’re pond scum, and I hate pond scum” look on his face, he looked a lot less friendly than he did on TV.

        “I want to talk to you,” he said, looking past Erik right to Trevor, who began to wonder what kind of strange turn his life was about to take now.  Considering how quickly things had been happening, and how unexpected each new twist was, he couldn’t begin to guess what was coming next.  “Alone,” Nick added, keeping his eyes on Trevor even though the word was for Erik’s benefit.

        “I’ll be in the kitchen,” Erik said.  That meant, “I’ll be eavesdropping.”  He disappeared; Trevor was too busy being trapped in Nick’s gaze to watch.

        Nick stepped inside, closing the door.  “Your little friend tried to steal my boyfriend,” he said, putting one hand in his pocket, his posture casual, his eyes anything but.  “I was pissed off, but we made an…arrangement.”

        Trevor could not believe that Nick was fucking Ashley.  The situation was crazy, and it didn’t sound like something Ashley should be in the middle of, but he was still jealous.

        “Your friend Dan started hanging out with Justin, that’s fine, Justin can be friends with anybody he wants.  Dan got Justin to break up with AJ, that’s fine, that’s up to Justin.  But then when AJ wants Dan’s number, wants to talk to the man who ran off with his boyfriend, you start a fight?  You start brawling with someone just because he wants to call the guy who stole his boyfriend?”

        That wasn’t close to accurate.  “He was acting like an asshole,” Trevor said.  “Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten into it, but he’s been here before, throwing punches.  This time, he got it back.”

        “You thought it was your job to put him in his place?”

        That rubbed Trevor the wrong way.  He tried to stay calm, but there was a shade too much force behind his words.  “He can’t just march into our house and push us around.  He can’t come here and make demands.”

        “But it’s okay to steal other people’s boyfriends?” Nick asked, raising his eyebrows.

        Of course that wasn’t okay, but damn it, “If Justin and Joey found somebody better, then more power to them.”

        Nick snorted.  “There’s nobody better than me.  Listen, little boy bitch,” and Nick took a dangerous step closer, projecting heat and anger, “I have nothing to prove to you.  I don’t care if you think AJ’s an asshole, and I don’t care if you think I’m an asshole.  You don’t ever,” his eyes glittered and his tone was vicious, “lay a fucking hand on me or my friends.  This isn’t one of your little playground fights.  AJ is seen and loved by more millions of people than you ever will be.  What happens to him matters.”

        Trevor was determined to hold his ground.  “And what happens to me or Dan doesn’t?”

        “The cameras are off, bitch,” Nick said.  “Nobody gives a fuck anymore.”

        Trevor was so furious he couldn’t even form a coherent thought.  And now that he was in his first one-on-one close personal encounter with Nick Carter, he was being disillusioned and fucking impressed all at once, which made his brain hurt.

        “I came over here for two things,” Nick said.  “The first, was to tell you to fuck off.”

        Nick was staring at him, hating him, waiting.  Trevor swallowed, tensing, and looked him right in the eye.  “Am I supposed to care what the second one is?”

        Nick gave him a sneering, smirking, glaring look and said, “You’re about to.”

        It came out of nowhere, like a cannonball shot to the gut, and he was doubled over, trying to breathe, when he realized that Nick had just punched him so fast and so hard he thought his stomach might be somewhere behind his spine.  He forced himself to straighten, tensing for more blows, but there was Nick’s back, and the door closed, and Nick was gone, just like that.

        Erik came skidding across the hardwood floor.  “What happened?  What happened?  Did he hit you?  Did you hit him?”

        “He punched me in the gut.”  Trevor rubbed his hand across his stomach, checking to make sure there wasn’t a fist-sized dent in his abdomen.

        “To get you back for fighting with AJ?” Erik asked.

        “Ow, damn it,” Trevor said.  "Yeah."

        “First AJ, then Nick.  So every few hours, one of them’s going to show up and hit you?” Erik asked.  “Who do you think’ll be next, Kevin?”

        “They’re not lining up at the front door to play Punch-the-Penick,” Trevor said.  “It’s probably just Nick.  He showed up before to try to intimidate Ashley.  AJ got Dan, so I got AJ, so Nick got me.”

        “So it’s our turn again?” Erik asked.  “I guess I have to go take out Brian now.”

        “Try explaining that to Howie,” Trevor said.  Jesus, everything was crazy.  “I’m going back to bed.”

        “Okay,” Erik said.  “Just yell if you start coughing up blood.”

        AJ.

        He reached for his cell phone, moving as little as possible so he wouldn’t disturb Ashley, sending a text message to Lance.  Please, please, please, please-

        The phone rang.  He let it ring three times before he answered.  “You got Joey.”

        Ashley’s eyes opened, sleepy blue; he shifted closer, tightening his embrace warmly.

        Joey tried not to sneer.  Bitch.

        “Joey, I woke up two minutes ago.  What do you want?” Lance asked.

        “What?  Yeah,” Joey said.  “Isn’t that tomorrow?”

        “Is this call for Ashley’s benefit?” Lance asked.

        “Yeah, shit, right,” Joey said.  “Shit.”  He pretended to think.  “Okay, yeah.  Yeah.  I’ll be there in, hell, how’s twenty minutes?”

        “You’ll be at a fictitious place in twenty minutes, or you’ll be at my house in twenty minutes?” Lance asked.

        “No, no, no, the first one,” Joey said.

        “Good,” Lance said.  “Not that I wouldn’t love to see you.”

        “Yeah, we’ll get into that,” Joey said.  “Okay.  Yeah.  Bye.”  He hung up, groaning.  “God.  Okay.  Pretty?”  He kissed Ashley’s cheek, rubbing Ashley’s back.  “I have to go.  If I take the fastest shower on record, and eat on the way, I can make it.  But I’m never going to get out of this bed with you in it.”  He slid his hand down to stroke Ashley’s ass, Ashley’s thigh.  Ashley had a good body, long limbs and prettily defined musculature, a perfect blending of boy and man.  Joey was almost tempted to fuck him.  But any orgasms wasted on Ashley meant fewer orgasms left for AJ, and Joey wasn’t about to risk that.

        “Where are you going?” Ashley asked, his hand curling loosely around Joey’s bicep.

        “Lance just called,” Joey said.  “I have a meeting I forgot about.”  He kissed Ashley, already anticipating the force and passion of AJ’s desires.  “I have to be up and out in five minutes.”  Another kiss, and then a gentle but firm push.  “That means you and your tempting mouth and your sexy ass have to go.”

        Ashley laughed.  “Right now?”

        “Right now,” Joey agreed, crawling over him and standing, then dragging him out of the bed.  “Come on, let’s go.”

        Ashley cooperated, making things a hell of a lot easier than Joey had anticipated.  He got dressed quickly, then pulled Joey in for a long kiss.  “I’ll see you later?”

        “I’ll call you,” Joey promised, giving him a quick peck.  “Bye, pretty.”

        “Bye,” Ashley said.  One more kiss, a dazzling smile, and Ashley was gone.

        Hell, that had been easy.

        And now, Joey could move on to bigger and better things.

        Nick wasn’t home.

        Nick never had been a morning person, so it was very unlikely that he’d gotten up early and left the house.  That meant he’d spent the night elsewhere, and hadn’t made it home yet.

        Or else Nick was home, but was ignoring the doorbell.  Which was possible, even likely.  No, Nick would have come to the front door and told him to fuck off.

        Nick wasn’t home.  Nick had slept somewhere else last night.

        With Joey?

        With Ashley?

        With Joey and Ashley?

        Ashley.  Ashley was slender and pretty and Nick’s type, very much Nick’s type.  The idea of Ashley under Nick’s body, Ashley on Nick’s dick, Ashley brought to wild climax by Nick’s knowing touch - - Ashley and Nick, twined together in passion, feeding from each other’s kisses, Nick fucking that cunt and not fucking him - - JC hadn’t gone through all of this emotional drama and all of this physical pain and all of this shame and all of this agony and all of this money to be replaced by that vapid passive whoring child who wouldn’t know what to do with a real man if JC beat him over the head with The Joy of Gay Sex!

        When Nick’s car pulled into the driveway fifteen minutes later, JC was standing by the front door, contemplating the merits of shattering all available copes of O2 into tiny little pieces and then using those pieces to carve “I had him first” into Ashley Angel’s fucking flesh.

        “I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Nick said, approaching him, “and I don’t care.”  Nick looked gorgeous in sunlight.  His hair shone, his skin glowed.  “I got up at six in the fucking morning to see those little bastards, and I’m not in the mood for more of your bullshit.”

        He’d hurt Nick, insulted Nick, cheapened what they shared.  If things were ever going to be repaired between them, he had to do the work.  JC understood that.  Words didn’t work, either; any words could be spoken and not meant.  But JC knew how to get through to Nick, knew what Nick wanted from him.  “Nick,” he said, because it was the most beautiful word in the English language.  Nick was unlocking the door, not looking at him.  The door was opening, and Nick was stepping inside, and JC put himself in the way, in the doorframe, looking into eyes that could close him out more than any door.  “I pierced my perineum.”

        A flicker of interest.

        “I did it last night.”  All of it, Nick would want the whole story.  “I shaved everything, alone, in my bathroom.  I went to Jack’s Body Center.  I went alone, and I was terrified, but I did it for you.  I got it pierced, my perineum, it’s a little platinum hoop with a tiny garnet stone.  It’s called a captive bead ring.”

        “Garnet,” Nick repeated.  The interest was stronger, now.

        “Your birthstone,” JC said.

        Nick smiled.  His wicked, charming smile.  “Can I see it?”

        Ah.  Joey.

        Grinning, AJ got up, setting aside the phone and walking to the front door in only his dark blue boxer-briefs.  He opened the door slowly, giving Joey an opportunity to appreciate every inch.  The expression on Joey’s face indicated that Joey did appreciate every inch; the bulge at Joey’s crotch indicated that Joey’s dick appreciated it, too.

        Taking one step back into the house, AJ brought one hand to his waist, slowly tugging his underwear down.  The waistband slipped, baring an inch of hip, another inch, another.

        Joey stepped forward.

        AJ stepped back again.  “How much time do you have?”  More skin, dangerously close to revealing his dick.

        “Days,” Joey said, moving forward, already shedding clothes, absolute hunger in his eyes.  “Years.”

        AJ used his other hand to stroke his dick through his underwear, lingering pressure outlining the obvious shape of his hard-on stretching the fabric.  His own touch felt good, arousing, a turn-on, but it was nothing compared to the obscene need in Joey’s eyes.  “What about Ashley and Nick?”

        “Fuck Ashley,” Joey said, on him, grabbing him, pushing him back against the wall.  “Fuck Nick,” Joey growled, kissing him, shoving and pulling and lifting, and conversation was over.

This part is being posted on January 28th, Nick and Joey's birthday.  I think that letting Nick have a pierced JC and letting Joey have sex with AJ are nice birthday presents.

A perineum piercing is called a guiche.  Here are a few pictures.  (These are not my pictures.  If they're yours, and you'd like me to take them down, please let me know.)

matthew@matthewtime.com
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