"Sucker"

Sucker

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 seventeen...

Erik couldn’t believe it.

Howie was goofy.

Howie was fun. Howie was funny and he had the cheesiest sense of humor and he had the most infectious laugh and he had the most most beautiful smile. Erik was having so much fun he would have had one of the best days of his life even if Howie hadn’t just bought him a huge plasma TV and an elegant-masculine, understated-I’m a multi-millionaire bracelet.

And the clothes! Howie said he was selective; Erik said he was picky; Howie had given him that smile and said, okay, maybe. But selective or picky or whatever it was, Howie could go through five stores and not buy anything, but when he did find something he wanted, it was worth it. The cuts were sleek, the textures were insane, and Erik knew he’d never looked this good in the crap he bought.

The TV and the clothes were being sent to the house. The bracelet was on his wrist, catching the light in rich sparkles, the only authentic piece of bling he owned. And they were alone in Howie’s house.

Erik had been wanting Howie all damned day. Being with JC was like, can I jump him yet? Now? How about now? Being with Howie was like, please let him want me maybe he wants me I’ll be a good person for the rest of my life if he’ll want me I hope he wants me please?

After spending the day swapping corny jokes, Erik felt more relaxed around Howie than he had before. But after having Howie rub his ass in front of the saleswoman under the guise of checking the fit of his pants, he was ready to get things going. The fact that once the saleswoman had walked away, Howie had leaned in close and whispered to him, in the teasing voice with the glimmer in the eyes, that his hard-on was ruining the line of the pants, had just about put him over the edge. Erik was already planning for fantasy scenarios sixty-seven through eighty-two to involve him, Howie, and a dressing room.

They were in the bedroom, where Howie was taking off his shoes and Erik was sitting on the bed, hoping that wasn’t too obvious of a hint. “Thanks for the clothes and everything.”

“I hope you like them.” Howie took off his necklace.

“They’re awesome.”

“We’ll have to go back out again for shoes. And hats.” Howie had this way of rubbing Erik’s fuzz with just the right amount of pressure to make his entire scalp tingle like he was turned on. “Thanks to AJ, I know all of the best places to buy hats.”

Howie was sitting beside him now, and Erik wanted to take advantage of this proximity to get something started, but he wasn’t experienced at making the first move with Howie. He stalled. “I’ve never been to any of those stores we went to today.”

“You can go back anytime you want.” Howie started stroking the side of his face, down along his jaw, and he tried not to be obvious about the shivers that sent down his neck. “You can get anything you want, and they’ll just charge it to me.”

Really? Was that possible? “Really?”

“Sure. I like to do things for my lovers, little things. I can’t do much for JC that he can’t do for himself, but I like doing things for you. It makes me feel...good.” Howie was definitely looking at his mouth now, so Erik leaned closer, putting his hand on Howie’s thigh. His mind was still absorbing the idea that he had an all-access pass to shop in stores where one sleeve cost a thousand dollars, all on Howie’s budget, but his body was distracted by Howie’s nearness. “Erik-Michael,” Howie murmured, one hand on the side of his neck guiding him in. “I had a good time today. I liked,” there was a hand on his hip, “being alone with you.”

Erik tried to breathe in, but there wasn’t enough air in the room, and Howie was rubbing right over his pelvic bone, right down into the crease where his hip folded into his thigh, and his dick was getting hard, and Howie’s mouth was so close, right there, right-

-there. Erik moaned, opening for Howie’s tongue, Howie’s thighs spreading for his hand. He rubbed Howie down and Howie rolled them across the bed and his dick was naked in Howie’s hand and he couldn’t get enough of Howie’s kissing mouth and Howie jacked him hard and he was coming before he could stop himself.

Whoa. Damn. Erik panted into Howie’s ear, trying to collect all of his body parts back together again. Howie was over him, gently fucking his hand, doing dizzying things involving Howie’s tongue and his left nipple. “Erik-Michael,” Howie whispered, kissing his shoulder, licking his neck, giving a slow thrust into his fist, hissing softly.

God. Okay. Yeah, yeah. Erik licked his lips, rolling the two of them over, sliding down Howie’s body.

When he fit his mouth over the head of Howie’s erection, going down onto it, and he felt Howie’s fingers rubbing down over his scalp, and he heard a soft, breathy mmm sound, all he could think was, god, this is good.

“How many pairs of feet do you think I’m going to have in my lifetime?”

Justin laughed. “You can’t wear the same pair of shoes every day.”

Dan looked down at the stacks of shoe boxes piled on the floor, then at Justin. “I don’t want to sound sexist, but are you a woman?”

“I want all of these,” Justin told the salesclerk. “And all of those are going to the other address.”

“I said you could buy me a pair of shoes,” Dan said. “A, meaning one, not a, meaning an entire store.”

“How about twenty?” Justin asked.

Dan crossed his arms over his chest. “One.”

Justin took a step forward, crossing his arms, too. “Fifteen.”

Dan stepped closer. “Two.”

Justin leaned in. “Twelve.”

Nose to nose. “Five.”

Justin narrowed his eyes. “Ten.”

Dan’s forehead touched Justin’s. “Nine.”

“Deal!” Justin poked Dan in the stomach and turned to the salesclerk. “We need the white, the black, the white blue, the white black, the red, the-”

“Did you memorize their inventory?” Dan asked.

Justin grinned at him. “I memorized what looks good on you.”

Dan shook his head in disbelief.

“The white navy, the white red…”

I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Ashley couldn’t get Nick’s words out of his head. I didn’t mean to hurt you. And the look in Nick’s eyes, honest, direct. Nick hadn’t meant to hurt him.

Nick hadn’t meant to hurt him physically? That was the most logical conclusion, since they’d just been talking about that.

Or, Nick hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings?

Maybe Nick hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. Maybe Nick was just being Nick, and hadn’t intentionally been out to use him. Maybe Nick wasn’t malicious, Nick just didn’t know that what he did hurt other people. Or hadn’t realized that he might be hurting Ashley.

After all, casual sex was casual sex. Feelings weren’t supposed to get hurt, because emotions weren’t supposed to be involved. That was Ashley’s fault, for attaching emotional weight to his body’s actions. And for attaching emotional importance to Nick’s actions, because Nick had never indicated that there was any kind of romantic or personal interest at work. Nick liked getting laid. That seemed to be as far as things went.

Nick hadn’t meant to hurt him.

That made the hurt less.

It also made the confusion worse. Joey was in love with Nick, and Nick was in love with Joey, and Ashley was what? Nick’s fuck on the side? Joey’s mistress? What the hell was he doing? He was in love with Joey, and he needed to focus on finding a way to get Joey all to himself. Nick was extra, Nick was in his way, Nick was supposed to be the enemy.

He was in love with Joey.

“You look like shit.” Trevor came into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and getting out some beer. “I hope your day wasn’t as bad as mine was.”

“Give me one of those.” He was tempted to say, “I’ll tell you how shitty my life is if you’ll tell me how shitty yours is,” but he wasn’t sure he wanted to share his current tale of misery.

Trevor handed him a bottle, sitting down across from him, foot propped on a chair. “What happened to you? Nick or Joey?”

God. “Nick.” Ashley took a long drink, hoping to wash Nick’s taste from his mouth. He’d taken a long, hot shower but he could still feel Nick’s hands on his flesh. He lowered the bottle, wondering what could have happened to Trevor. “Chris?”

“Chris. Kevin. You can’t get Chris without Kevin. God knows I’m trying.”

They drank in silence. A depressed silence. A depressed, frustrated silence. Twisting off the cap to a second bottle, Ashley wished he could talk to someone about what was going on. Usually he could talk to the guys about anything. Erik was his best friend, Trevor always listened, Dan gave great advice, and Jacob always cut right to the truth. But could he talk to them about this? About going to confront Nick about Joey, and ending up in Nick’s bed? About being in love with Joey and wanting to be with Joey and knowing that Joey could be the best relationship of his life, and still managing to fall so hard for Nick he couldn’t think of the guy without getting lost in a labyrinth of love, lust, infatuation, passion, yearning, desire, and hunger? He felt drawn to Nick, an undeniable attraction, like his heart was a compass and Nick was magnetic North.

If he was making up similes like that, he was drunk.

“Have you ever had trouble in bed?” Trevor asked.

Trouble in bed, fuck, he had trouble getting the hell out of bed. Ashley snorted, taking a drink. “What do you mean?”

“Have you ever had trouble getting it up?”

Ashley shook his head. “No.” He didn’t have trouble getting it up, getting it on, getting off, getting down and dirty…

“If you were getting head, if you had a mouth right there sucking your dick, would you be able not to get hard?”

Ashley felt warm. Too warm. Hot with the memory of Nick, Nick’s mouth, Nick’s…tongue…Nick’s… “No.” Jesus. He took another drink.

“Maybe I give bad head.”

Hunh. “Let him come on your face. They like that.”

Trevor looked at him.

Ashley looked at Trevor.

“For the record, I never heard you say that,” Trevor said.

“It’s not,” he didn’t know what to say, “as bad as it sounds.”

“It sounds like you’re getting a load of cum on your face. Who’s doing that to you, Nick?”

Ashley shook his head. “Joey.”

“Joey Fatone is creaming on your face, and you’re okay with that? I’ve never found anyone who’s ever let me try it. And I’ve met some freaky chicks.”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Ashley said, avoiding Trevor’s eyes.

“Does he let you come on his face?”

Ashley didn’t like this conversation. “He hasn’t given me head yet.”

Trevor didn’t say anything, but the way he was looking at Ashley said plenty.

“It’s not, it’s not wrong if you’re in love,” Ashley said.

Trevor sighed and pulled him into a tight hug. “God, you’re a pathetic drunk.”

Ashley was getting the feeling that he was pretty damned pathetic sober, too.

Kevin rolled onto his stomach, folding his arms, resting his cheek there. He had very nice muscles, broad shoulders, and he almost looked relaxed. It was nice.

Chris wondered if Kevin wanted an explanation. “I said we weren’t doing this anymore, didn’t I?”

“You said something about that,” Kevin said.

Chris sat up, picking at the sheets across his lap. “I guess I didn’t mean it.”

Kevin chuckled.

Chris ran his fingers along a line of muscle in Kevin’s back. He touched Trevor a lot, and he wanted to see what it was like to touch Kevin. Now that they were having sex regularly, he felt a little more comfortable around Kevin. They were almost friends. Sort of. Kind of. Not. “You want to hear how things went with Trevor?”

“Sure.” Kevin rolled over, hands behind his head, the covers slipping dangerously low. Chris was now presented with a lot of masculine flesh. He tried touching Kevin’s stomach. Kevin didn’t say anything about it, and since Kevin was never shy about speaking up about something he didn’t like, Chris figured it was safe.

“I finger-fucked him, but it never went farther than that. I kept…not making it.” It wasn’t like he wanted to talk about his performance problems. Tracing the map of Kevin’s stomach muscles gave him an excuse to avoid Kevin’s too-penetrating gaze. “He tried to keep everything going, but it didn’t work. He said that was okay, we could skip it for now, did I want him to give me head?” He stroked between Kevin’s pecs. “I said okay, so he went for it. I didn’t know if you’d want me to go ahead with that or not, and I couldn’t call you mid-blowjob, so I improvised. I…got a flat tire again, and finally he gave up and we had lunch.”

“You can do that while you’re getting head?” Kevin sounded genuinely interested.

“Yeah.” Always something to be proud of. He realized he was caressing Kevin’s nipples, and went back down to Kevin’s stomach again.

“Did he ask you what was wrong?”

“I told him I’d been having trouble since you and I broke up.”

“Can you keep having trouble?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You can get off sometimes. In his hand or his mouth. Just to make him keep trying.”

“What do I do if he wants to fuck me?”

“Let him do it, but don’t get hard. If he does it once the whole way through and you’re soft the whole time, he won’t try it again.”

“Sometimes I…have sort of…spontaneous crying fits.”

“That’s okay.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Kevin laughed.

Chris drew a star across Kevin’s abs. “Justin called. He asked about you.”

Kevin didn’t say anything.

“He wants to come home. He can’t stand being away from you.”

“He should have thought of that before.”

Chris risked a glance at Kevin’s face. “Before what?”

“Before he disobeyed simple instructions.”

There was a lesson there. Don’t disobey Kevin. Disobedience led to falling out of Kevin’s favor, and that meant losing all access to Kevin, Kevin’s stellar company, and Kevin’s body. But Justin had to have known that, already. What would happen to make Justin take that risk and chose to disobey? “Can I ask what instructions?”

Kevin’s smile was amused. “No.”

Chris drew lazy circles and squares.

“You got this from Brian,” Kevin said.

“Yeah.” Brian was very into touching things. Stroking things. He’d started to touch Chris constantly, caressing, petting. Whenever they were alone, Brian’s hands would be on his body, on his flesh. When he’d started doing it to Trevor, it had taken him a few days to figure out what was going on. He was sure he wasn’t getting out of it whatever Brian got out of it, but that was okay. It was comforting anyway.

“The minute you find out when Justin’s coming home, call me.”

“Okay.” He could follow direct orders. He didn’t have to know the reason for them. Maybe it was better if he didn’t.

JC called Howie’s cell phone, tapping his fingers impatiently.

“Hello?”

“It’s JC. Where are you?”

“I’m at home, baby. Erik-Michael and I are waiting for you.”

Shit. “Can you talk in another room? This is important.”

Muffled conversation, a moment of silence. “What’s wrong, JC?”

“I pierced my perineum.”

Howie said nothing.

JC had been dreading this moment since he’d done it, and he was quick to get defensive. “I know you’re going to be pissed about it, and I know it’s going to fuck up things with Erik, but this is my body, and I’m not putting my life on hold for-”

“JC, I’m not upset.” A soft sigh. “No, I am upset, but that’s not why. I’m not worried about Erik, we can deal with him, we can figure out something. I just… JC, I thought that we were in this together. I thought that you and I had a partnership here. I even thought… I thought we were getting to be friends. I didn’t think you’d do something that would affect both of us this much, without letting me know about it first. You can do anything you want, JC, but I need you to let me know before you do it, so I’m ready for it on my end. We’re in this together.”

JC closed his eyes, sinking back across his sofa. “I know.” He felt a strange tightening sensation in his chest. “I’m sorry.” He hated hurting Howie. It seemed like they were always hurting each other and pissing each other off. They never communicated well. It seemed like whatever one of them did, the other one misunderstood.

Howie’s voice was gentle. “Did you tell Nick?”

“Yeah. He…saw it.”

“Did he like it?”

“Yeah.” It hurt to think about Nick, but it was a good ache, today.

“Did you get it done today?”

“Last night.”

“Then Erik should think I saw it before we parted ways this morning. Can you come over here?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll tell Erik you have a surprise for him. Tomorrow you and I can talk about how to use this to our advantage. I have a few ideas.”

“Okay.” JC sat up, hesitating. “Howie… I know I sprung this on you.”

“It’s okay, JC. You’re right, you can’t put your whole life on hold for this. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

JC hung up, not sure what to think. Howie was a minefield. A funhouse with crazy mirrors and uneven floors and things popping out around each unexpected turn. Were they friends? Enemies? Lovers? Were they using each other? Respecting each other? Did they want each other? Were they on equal ground, or not?

Sometimes he wanted Howie to like him. Sometimes he resented Howie. Sometimes he hated Howie. But when he was honest with himself, he was forced to admit that no matter what else was going on, he wanted Howie.

But now he had to get out of the post-Nick mindframe, and into the Erik zone, where he was in love with Howie (which was alarmingly easy on some days, and impossible on others), and very attracted to Erik, and couldn’t wait to draw Erik into his and Howie’s perfect relationship.

This part of the seduce and destroy mission was all about baiting the hook. At some point, JC seemed to have become the bait. And if Erik wasn’t going to get to fuck him, he’d better find other ways to keep the bastard interested.

Dan was used to hours upon hours of nonstop physical activity, but shopping with Justin had him exhausted. He couldn’t wait to sit down somewhere. And eat something. Damn.

When they got to the penthouse, Justin said, “What next? I’m thinking change clothes, go out to eat somewhere, hit a few clubs.”

Dan laughed, following him into the bedroom. “You never stop moving.”

“We’re in New York City. You stop moving, you get run over,” Justin said, already stripping out of his shirts, stepping out of his shoes. “How do you feel about Italian?”

“Italian sounds great,” Dan said, “and I’m starving, but I’m having a revelation.”

“Okay,” Justin said, popping open his fly. “Let’s hear it.”

Dan sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him. “You never stop moving. What do you think is going to happen if you stop?”

“It’s called being driven,” Justin said. Defensiveness crept into his expression. “I’m ambitious, I have a lot on my plate, there’s a lot going on.”

Dan didn’t buy that. He might have, if he hadn’t heard that scared anger behind Justin’s words. “What happens if you stop?”

“Here, I’ll stop.” Justin froze in place. A heartbeat passed. “See?” he asked, pulling off his socks. “Nothing happened. Can we go get dinner?”

Dan wasn’t letting go. “Let’s eat here. You and me. We’ll raid the fridge.”

“Fuck dinner.” Justin pivoted, stalking towards the bathroom. “I’m going out. I’m going out and I - - fuck. Fuck!” He spun back around, glaring at Dan. “Fuck you.”

Dan stood, neither impressed nor intimidated. “Fuck me?”

“Fuck you!” Justin shouted. “I can’t fucking do this! I can’t do this, this fucking thing with you! I can’t - - it’s like - - you have no fucking clue how fucked up all of this is!”

Dan crossed his arms over his chest. “Okay,” he said. “Tell me.”

“I’m supposed to - - AJ - - and he’s everywhere, he’s every fucking where, he’s in every thought I have, he’s around every damned corner, I would give my life to be with him, I would give your life to be with him, he is the most important thing that ever happened to me, and now I’m here, with you, and…” Justin paused to take a deep breath, but the agitated gestures of his hands showed that he was no calmer for it. “My sanity is like a house of cards, and he’s this constant earthquake, and I can’t do this with you. I can’t even figure out what I’m really doing here, or how I really feel about you, or how I really feel about anything anymore. I don’t know how I feel about me. I hate myself, so much, every day, and I hate you, so much every day, and I love him, so much, every day.”

That had been a lot of emotion, hurled at him like a fireball, and Dan had to find a place to start. “Let’s try to change some of that around,” he said, approaching Justin slowly, the way he would a cornered animal. “Try loving yourself, every day, and hating him, every day, instead. And the part about me, you don’t have to hate me, I’m really not that bad of a guy.”

“I know you’re not, I know,” Justin said, and groaned, butting his head against the bathroom’s doorjamb. “God, I’m fucking up, I’m fucking this up. I can’t believe I’m this fucking obvious. I can’t believe you’re getting to me like this.”

“Maybe we should figure this out,” Dan said. There was a lot to figure out, because he only understood about a sixth of what Justin was saying. “I think we’re both wandering in the darkness here. Should we start with you or start with AJ?”

“Hell, fuck AJ.” Justin took a deep breath, straightening, and when he faced Dan, his eyes were clear, his gaze direct. “You. I want to focus on you.”

“Me?” Dan asked. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” Justin said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I really do.” Justin was so close their foreheads were touching, and all Dan could see was blue. Justin’s hand was stroking his hair, thumb rubbing his temple. “Daniel Miller, you are the new center of my universe.”

“Wow,” Dan said. “That sounds like a really bad idea.”

Justin laughed, stepping back, looking startlingly happy. “Come on. Let’s eat on the roof and look at the stars and talk about you.”

“Okay,” Dan said, willing to play along for a while, “but with that topic, dinner will be over in five minutes.”

Chris knew he had to go, but leaving meant going home, and being at home meant being alone with Brian thoughts. Sometimes he loved being alone with thoughts of Brian, but tonight, not as much. He’d gone to deep, dark places today, and not only had that upset Trevor’s sex life, it had upset Chris’s emotional balance. Since his emotional balance was unstable as it was, he’d really rather just hide out in Kevin’s bed for a while.

Kevin was watching TV, and Chris was watching Kevin, when the phone rang. Kevin muted the TV, and Chris wondered if Brian might be calling. “Hello?”

Was it Brian?

“Yeah. I don’t know. No, it’s not - - JC pierced his perineum.”

What?! Chris knew he’d just done the sit-straight-up pop-eyed jaw-drop thing, but… What?!

“I know. Yeah. How’re you doing? Yeah.”

JC had what? JC? His JC? The JC who had such needle phobia he wet his pants, screamed like a girl, and ran away in terror every time a doctor mentioned giving him a shot? Chris still swore on his own grave that Nick must have knocked JC unconscious to give him that tattoo. And now JC had a piercing?

In his perineum?

“Yeah. I don’t know. AJ was trying to get Joey to visit him.”

Wait. Kevin was talking about new JC piercings, and talking about AJ and Joey, and that meant he had to be talking to One of Them. Clearly, it wasn’t AJ. Information about JC had to come from Howie, or Nick, or both. That meant…

Kevin was talking to…

Chris grabbed Kevin’s arm, digging his fingers into hard muscle. “Is that Brian?”

Kevin turned to him with an angry stare of death. “Let. Go. Of. Me.”

“Is that Brian?!”

“Let.” Kevin shook him free so hard he fell back against the pillows. “Go of me. If he wants to talk to you, I will give you the phone. I know you want to talk to him, and I know that you lose control of your higher functions whenever he’s around, so I’m going to forgive you, this time. But don’t you ever,” Kevin’s glare burned him, “grab me like that. Whoever I’m on the phone with is my business. Not yours.”

But it was Brian.

Kevin turned away from him. “Sorry about that. Yeah, he’s here. Yeah. Yeah.” Kevin chuckled. “I know. No, I don’t think so. Okay. Yeah. Okay.” Kevin handed him the phone. “Brian wants to talk to you.”

Chris snatched up the phone with shaking hands. “Brian?” he asked desperately, greedily, scared, eager, sick with wanting.

“Chris,” Brian said softly. “I only have a minute. Jacob’s about to come back. How’ve you been?”

“I miss you.”

“Oh, pet, I miss you, too. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I showed Jacob that guitar you gave me. Remember that?”

He couldn’t breathe right. “Which, which one?”

“The ’42 Martin. Remember it? That was such a good day.”

Oh, god. The Martin. Chris remembered that day. The phrase “traumatic emotional scarring” couldn’t begin to cover what Brian had done to him that day. “You still have it?”

“I still have everything you ever gave me,” Brian said. “It all means so much to me, Chris.”

It did? “Do, do you-”

“I’m sorry, pet, I have to go. We’ll talk later, I promise. We’ll be together soon.”

“We will?” His heart was racing, he was sweating, he couldn’t breathe-

“I love you, Chris. Good-bye.”

“I love you. I love you! I love you,” he said desperately, clawing at hope, but it was too late. Brian was gone. Oh, god. Oh, god. Chris sank down, rolling over, clutching the phone to his chest. Oh, god. Brian loved him. Brian loved him. “I love you,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed. “I love you.”

Hell. Kevin sighed, surveying Chris’s back. One conversation with Brian, and Chris had gone fetal. Briefly he wondered what Brian had said, but he knew it didn’t matter. Brian could recite the alphabet and Chris would start gnawing his own flesh. “Chris. Chris.” He leaned forward, rubbing Chris’s shoulder. “Talk to me.” It would be easier to leave Chris alone to work through it, but god knew how long that would take. Besides, he didn’t like the idea of Chris wallowing in Brian misery in his bed.

“I gave him that guitar,” Chris said, still tucked into himself. “I gave him nineteen guitars. I gave him a ’42 Martin and-”

Kevin tuned out the rest of the list. He knew it all already. He eased the phone from Chris’s grip, setting it aside, and then he rolled Chris over so they were face to face. Still rambling, Chris reached out with one hand and stroked his cheekbone, babbling and mesmerized. Willing to do anything to shut Chris up, Kevin kissed him mid-sentence.

And received the shock of his life.

The idiot could kiss. Really kiss. They’d kissed before, in fact they’d kissed a lot, what with all of the fucking they kept doing. But Chris had never done it like this. It was hot and it was erotic and it was unqualified sex and it was perfect, it was, it was like…

It was like kissing…

Kevin broke away, opening his eyes. “Brian taught you to kiss like that.”

Chris nodded. He licked his lips, sanity filtering back into his gaze. “I didn’t tell anyone. Not even the other guys.”

Kevin narrowed his eyes, daring Chris to say the wrong thing. “You didn’t tell them what?” he asked sharply.

“I kiss just like Nick. Don’t I? Brian said Nick’s mouth is, is like…” Chris shut up, apparently realizing that he was on dangerous ground.

“What else. Did Brian. Teach you.” Kevin felt dangerous.

“Just a few things. Should I go? I think I should go.” Chris was backing away, looking around for an escape route.

Just as Chris was about to fall off of the bed, Kevin’s hand clamped down on his wrist. “You stay right here and you tell me everything, right now.”

Howie had managed to get Erik to fall asleep, and when JC arrived, he let JC into the house quietly. “Hi.” He kissed JC gently. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“It’s okay,” JC said uncomfortably. “Howie…”

“It’s fine,” Howie promised, fixing the fall of his robe, drawing JC’s attention to his nearly naked body. “I told Erik you missed him today.”

JC’s expression showed what he thought of that. Howie smiled, kissing him again, drawing him into it. When JC’s hands started wandering, Howie eased back again. “I’d like to see it. For myself. Without Erik, just…us.”

JC was blushing. “Are you…isn’t he here? Won’t he…”

“He’s asleep,” Howie said. “We’ll be fast. And quiet.” Howie knew JC had been willing and eager to commit various sexual acts with Nick in a moving car, on a crowded tour bus, in a restaurant bathroom, in a club bathroom, in a store dressing room, in a public movie theater, and in other people’s homes. Now he was too shy to drop his pants because someone who’d already fucked him might see?

“Okay.”

“Come on.” JC might have been perfect for Nick, but he was a pain in Howie’s ass. Howie led him to a guest bedroom and closed the door, turning on the light, and kissed him, taking it slow, getting him on the bed. Together, kissing wetly, JC moaning softly, they got rid of Howie’s robe and then undressed JC. Howie touched him tenderly, spreading his thighs, exploring gently until JC flinched. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Howie murmured, guiding him over, easing him onto his hands and knees, moving back to look at it.

Shaved and pierced. Erik was going to love this. Howie had never been into piercing, but he couldn’t help but contemplate doing something like this to Lance. He’d love to pierce the head of Lance’s dick. “It looks great,” he said, stroking JC’s ass. “I love it.”

“You do?” JC sounded surprised, moving onto his side.

“I do,” Howie said, lying down with him, running fingers through his hair. JC had great hair. “Did you pick the stone?”

“Yeah. It’s garnet.” JC hesitated, then forged ahead. “It’s Nick’s birthstone.”

Howie smiled. “Let’s not tell Erik that part. It’s too bad your sex life is limited now, because he’s going to want you more than ever.” He kissed JC slowly, caressing JC’s tongue with his own. “I do, too,” he whispered.

JC kissed him more deeply, stroking his chest, starting to crawl onto his body. Howie tolerated it, then said, “JC, JC. We have to save this for Erik. I’d love to do this, just you and me, but not tonight.”

“I know,” JC said, reining it in. “You’re right.” He sighed, resting his head on Howie’s shoulder. “I guess we have to go in there.”

“What are we going to tell him about your tattoo?”

JC groaned, wrapping his arm around Howie’s waist. “I don’t know. Usually I don’t have to worry about it, because the hair covers it. How do you explain having ‘ET’ on your groin right above your dick?”

Howie didn’t know. Then again, he didn’t let people talk him into getting stupid tattoos he’d regret later. He stroked JC’s hair. “What could ‘ET’ stand for?”

“Extra terrestrial,” JC said. “‘Entertainment Tonight.’ I don’t know.”

“You can tell him it’s the initials of an old lover.” It was close to the truth, and simple.

JC raised his head. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Since “Because you’re a stupid cunt” wouldn’t be a polite answer, Howie just kissed him. “Let’s go see if he’ll buy it.”

Chris didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d been upset, and Kevin had been right there, and he’d been remembering that horrible day, and he’d slipped. He knew better, he’d been taught better than that, he knew that some things were only for Brian, for Brian alone. But he’d been desperate, and Brian had said things to him, and…

And now he was in deep shit. Deep, deep shit. Kevin had let him get dressed again, at least, so he wasn’t naked in the shit. And Kevin was dressed again, too, but Kevin had the remarkable ability to be just as frightening naked or clothed. Some people looked silly naked, and almost everybody looked vulnerable naked, but not Kevin. Not even close. Maybe it was the eyebrows.

Chris tried to explain. “I didn’t think you could kiss differently. I thought how you kissed was how you kissed. I thought if you learned new techniques, that was just another part of-” Kevin was looking extra impatient, so he moved on. “I wanted to make Brian happy. I asked” begged “him to tell me what I could do for him. He said there was something special I could learn.”

Special wasn’t the word for it. Then again, Brian’s words for things usually had nothing to do with reality.

“I’m better at Howie and Nick than I am at AJ. It took a lot of practice, but I was willing to do anything for Brian.” And practicing their styles meant having more sex with Brian. And Brian liked it so, so much, and Brian came so, so hard, and he would have done anything to please Brian.

“Did you know what you were doing?” Kevin was standing halfway across the room, in shadow. His voice was deadly calm but still viciously cold.

“He told me, after a while. At first it was ‘no, not like that, do it like this’ but then it was ‘no, AJ does it more like that.’ I knew what that meant, but I couldn’t even pretend to mind. It was almost nice, because it gave me more information about Brian’s life, information I hadn’t had before.”

“How much information?”

“I don’t have places and dates. I don’t even know if it’s still happening. I just know that he’s been with them. I could assume that all five of you - - but I don’t assume things anymore.”

“You haven’t told anyone anything?”

“No. The guys have brought it up, but I didn’t say anything, and they didn’t really mean it. And I don’t… I only do it for Brian. Only for him, only when he wants it. Sometimes he doesn’t want that, sometimes he wants me.” Those were the best times of all, when Brian just wanted him and his need.

“What did he teach you? How to kiss?”

“And how to give head.”

“How good are you?”

“Brian loved it.” He wasn’t sure of a lot of things about Brian, but he was sure of that.

“You can do all three of them?”

“Yeah.” This was leading somewhere, but Chris didn’t want to guess where.

Kevin took one step closer, nearer to Chris, nearer to the light. “Come here.”

Obeying Kevin was better than disobeying, so Chris walked over to him.

“On your knees.”

Chris knelt.

Kevin unbuttoned his fly. “Prove it.”

“…Michael. Erik-Michael.” A hand on his stomach, a thigh pressed to his. “Erik-Michael,” whispered by his ear. Erik opened his eyes, because sleep was tugging at him but who the hell needed sleep when this was around? “JC,” he said, and his whole body went “yee-ha!”

“I know you’re sleeping, honey,” JC said. “I want to show you something, and Howie said it’s worth waking you up for.”

“It’s okay,” Erik said, rolling closer, putting his hand on JC’s naked hip. JC was here, and naked, and that was definitely worth waking up for. He hoped that whatever JC wanted to show him involved his dick and JC’s ass.

A lamp clicked on behind JC, and Howie climbed into bed with them. Also naked. And he’d been trying to sleep through this? “I wanted to tell you about this, but nothing I say could compare with seeing it for yourself,” Howie said.

“What is it?” Did JC - - hey. Whoa. “You…you shaved.” He dragged his gaze back up to JC’s face. “You shaved.” Naked. That was naked. That was bald. That was shaved. He’d never seen… Shaved. And god. Tattooed. There was a tattoo, black ink, above and to the right of JC’s dick. “What’s ET?”

JC glanced at Howie, then said, with a little smile, “An old lover. I was very, very drunk and he was very, very important to me.”

Tattooed. And shaved. “Can I touch it?”

“Of course.” JC took his hand, guiding it down to freshly exposed skin. He stroked, curious. Wow. It felt different. JC had really nice skin. JC’s smile was amused. Erik knew he had to be coming off like an idiot, here, but he couldn’t help it. “That’s not even the important part.”

“It gets… There’s more?” More than shaved and tattooed? This whole bare skin thing was hella hella sexy, and Erik was all over the idea of JC having a tattoo there. There was something more important than this?

JC was starting to get hard, and Erik touched that, too. JC’s lashes kind of fluttered, and he cupped JC’s balls, stroking-

JC stopped his hand, guiding him away from there. “I think I should just show you.”

“Okay.” He had no idea what was going on, but he loved it so far. He hadn’t thought JC could get any hotter, but this was totally fucking hot. He wondered what it was like giving head without any pubic hair.

JC pulled away from him a little bit, then rolled over onto his hands and knees.

Erik wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking at, but Howie was gesturing him over, so he moved around to whoa.

Whoa.

Whoa holy whoa fucking whoa.

Oh…sweet…motherfucking…shit. Erik swallowed, a little dizzy from getting that hard that fast. JC had…pierced his…

Howie gently took his hand, lowering it before it reached JC. “He’s still sensitive.”

No touching? How could he not touch? He had to touch.

Wait. No touching. Did that mean no fucking? There had to be fucking. He had to fuck JC right away. Of course he could still fuck JC, it wasn’t like JC had pierced his asshole or anything. “Can I… I mean can he…”

JC lowered himself gracefully to the mattress, then rolled onto his back. “Not for a while. It has to heal.” JC reached out, pulling him in. “What do you think?”

Erik sank onto JC’s body, unable to resist rubbing his fingers down where JC was holy freaking shaved. “I think you’re the hottest, sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen.”

JC laughed, putting an arm around his waist. “I think you’re one hot motherfucker too, honey.” JC kissed him until he couldn’t breathe. “I’m glad you think it was worth waking up for.”

JC would always be worth waking up for. “Are you sure I can’t fuck you?”

JC’s thumb ran down the line of his nose. “Not for a while, baby, But we can do other things.”

Erik kissed JC, because sometimes he still had trouble believing this was real and he was allowed to. “I’m up for anything you want,” he promised, “anything.”

Justin called the concierge, and they showered and changed clothes and headed up to the roof. Justin’s security guy Ty was there, along with waiters who were bustling around setting up a scene right out of a movie. Intimate rooftop setting for two, complete with a linen-draped table, candles, and covered dishes. Everything but the strolling violinist.

“Are we on a date?” Dan asked Justin, as they made a slow approach.

“I didn’t think I was your type,” Justin said.

“You’re a little taller than most of the girls I go out with,” Dan admitted.

“Let’s see what we can do about this.” Justin raised his voice. “Hey, guys, thanks. We can take it from here.” There was a bunch more bustling, until Justin started tipping people to get them to leave, and then they all disappeared. Dan looked over the second table, which held covered platters of food, while Justin talked Ty into going away, too. Then Justin joined him at the table. “I’m starving. Where do we start eating?”

“Not on those chairs,” Dan said. “Give me a hand with this.” Together, they cleared both tables, spreading the tablecloths down on the rooftop and then sitting down there amid the dishes and platters. “Pour me some wine and I’ll give you some of this stuff. You want fish, chicken, or what is this, ham?”

“I’m all over that chicken,” Justin said, locating glasses. “Wasn’t there some steak around here somewhere?”

“I lost it,” Dan said. “Maybe it fell over the side.”

Justin snorted, uncorking the bottle. “Somebody down on the sidewalk is wondering where the hell the flying steak came from.”

“Nope, I found it,” Dan said, uncovering another platter. “Are you as cold as I am?”

“More,” Justin said. “Whose brilliant idea was this?”

“Yours,” Dan said.

“Okay. You sit tight, eat something, drink something, and I’ll be right back.” Justin got to his feet. “Hey, save me some of that steak.”

“You want steak, you’d better get back here fast,” Dan said. Justin left with a chuckle, and he picked up a glass of wine. This had been a great idea. A cold idea, but a good idea. They were alone, and things were calm, and New York City at night was beautiful, building lights around them, starlight above them. He snuck a few bites of chicken, sipping the wine, wondering how someone - - AJ, anyone - - could take a moment like this with Justin, an opportunity like this with Justin, and deliberately trash it.

Kevin sent Chris home.

It was time to change a few plans. Put a few things into action earlier than he’d anticipated. He needed to talk to Brian one-on-one, at length, without the distractions of their current game. There were more important things that they had to discuss.

He called Brian’s house.

“Hello,” Brian said cheerfully.

“Chris just showed me some of the fun little things you taught him.”

“Really? What was that like?” Brian asked.

Jacob was there. “He kisses like Nick,” Kevin said. “And Howie. And AJ.” The shock of it, the unreality of it, the sheer wrongness of those kisses from that mouth. “He gives head like Nick. And Howie. And AJ.”

“Does he?”

“Yes,” Kevin snapped, “and you and I need to talk about that.”

“You think so?”

Brian drove him nuts. Absolutely fucking nuts. Brian was unbearable sometimes, and had Brian been anyone else in Kevin’s life, Kevin would have taken care of that a long time ago. But it was Brian. So, deep inside, he loved it. “Alone. At the cabin.”

“Are you sure about that?”

Kevin wasn’t in the mood, and he let Brian know it. “Yes.”

“Do you know when that’ll be?”

“Tomorrow. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Just us?”

“Yes.” Kevin still hadn’t decided exactly what he wanted to do, mainly because he knew that once Brian got involved, all plans were null and void.

“All right. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” Brian hung up.

Kevin wanted to beat his own head against a wall. He could control himself, he could control his surroundings, he could exercise complete control over an astounding number of aspects to his life, but he had absolutely no control over Brian, Nick, Howie, or AJ. AJ, he understood; Howie, he respected; Nick, he was proud of. But Brian was unpredictable. Brian was dangerous.

Chris knew too much. Chris knew things that absolutely no one on God’s green earth was ever supposed to know, outside of the five of them. Yes, Chris knew better than to assume anything, after receiving the deluxe Brian treatment, but Chris wasn’t moronically stupid. The first and most logical conclusion was that if Brian knew the way Nick kissed well enough to teach it to someone else, he’d kissed Nick himself. Probably more than once. If Brian knew the way AJ gave head well enough to teach it to someone else, AJ had probably given Brian head.

Chris was enslaved to Brian’s will, which gave the illusion of safety, but Chris was also very close to cracking. Chris was so close to the edge, Kevin was surprised he wasn’t in a straitjacket somewhere.

But, if it came to it, they could handle Chris.

Kevin would have a little talk with Brian, and they’d straighten everything out. All of it.

Daniel Miller was the center of Justin’s universe.

Daniel Mark Miller. Justin liked it. Simple. Normal. Dan was an ordinary guy without flash, drama, or pretense. A normal guy with a wide smile that Justin responded to every time. A normal guy with gorgeous, big blue eyes. A normal, dependable, confident guy who seemed capable of handling pretty much anything.

Justin brought heaps and mounds of bedding from the penthouse, and they bundled up. Justin spilled marinara sauce on a blanket, but Dan said as long as they didn’t set fire to anything with the candles, they’d be okay. The two of them ate everything they could, and then pushed the debris out of the way and scooted closer together to talk. They drank the wine to stay warm. Dan watched the lights. Justin watched Dan.

Getting drunk made Dan lisp more. Justin wondered when “Juthtin” had become sexy.

The call from Kevin had reminded Brian of all of the fun games he and his pet had used to play. He couldn’t wait to play new games with his new love.

He wondered what Jacob looked like when he cried. Nose red, eyes tortured and bloodshot, face twisting with misery. Chris made noises, tortured noises like it hurt to cry.

Howie said that Lance didn’t cry. Lance got very, very hurt and very, very angry, but Lance didn’t cry.

Brian knew better. Everybody cried. The trick was getting people to show it.

“My ass is numb.”

Justin grinned. “Your ath ith numb?”

Dan grinned back. “My fingers are numb, too, see?” He raised one hand, slowly flipping Justin off.

Justin laughed. “Come on, let’s go inside.” They got up, blowing out candles, and went downstairs, wrapped in bedding, carrying the wine. Justin made sure everything was locked, and called Ty, and he and Dan tried to figure out how to get their frozen, drunk asses warm.

“Hot shower,” Dan suggested.

Justin could do one better. “Hot tub.”

Dan eyed him. “Bathing suits?”

Justin shook his head. “Naked.” He grinned. “I won’t look if you won’t.”

Dan snorted. “Not much to see, anyway.”

Hey! “Are you talking about me or you?” Justin asked, following him to the bathroom, shedding blankets.

Dan’s smile was broad. “Guess.”

As it turned out, there was a hell of a lot to see. Justin had already viewed most of it, but as a complete package getting into a hot tub with him, it got his attention. Dan was all slender lines and pale skin, with legs that went for miles and nice freshly grown-up muscles and dark pink nipples and yeah. Justin was inexperienced with men, but as far as he could judge, Dan had nothing to be ashamed about. That whole “I won’t look” thing was way out the window. Justin was looking, and he thought he might even like what he saw.

He wondered if he’d always been slightly bi, or if Kevin had done this to him. Or if he didn’t mind the idea of having sex with Dan because in some superficial physical ways, Dan reminded him of Kevin. If he had a type, it would have to be tall guys with black hair and pale white skin. No green eyes here, but plenty of backbone to even it out.

They had a conversation of no importance, feeling the heat seep back into their bodies, passing the bottle back and forth in lazy companionship. Justin rested his foot against Dan’s thigh underwater, and Dan didn’t seem to mind.

Dan was naked in a hot tub alone in a penthouse after a romantic dinner, with a man he knew had sex with other men. Either Dan was gay, or Dan was bi, or Dan was straight and so secure in his sexuality and their friendship that he wasn’t concerned about it.

The sad thing was, it was probably the straight but extremely secure thing. Justin was very impressed by that, because he didn’t know anyone else who’d be this totally calm about it, including himself pre or post Kevin. But it made his job a hell of a lot harder.

How did gay guys seduce straight guys? He wasn’t about to use the methods Kevin had used on him. He didn’t know whether AJ’s approach on Joey would work with Dan. He should have asked AJ for advice, but he hated AJ, and he wasn’t about to admit he didn’t know what he was doing.

Why couldn’t he seduce Dan the way he seduced women? Wouldn’t that work?

Then again, women tended to think he was hot before they got naked and drunk in the hot tub with him. His work was pretty much done by that point.

“Do you think I’m hot?”

Okay, apparently there was always the drunk, clumsy, speaking without thinking approach.

Dan laughed, sinking down a little farther in the water. “I don’t know. I never thought about it.” He picked up the bottle, then set it down again. “We’re out of wine.”

Justin wondered if that was their second bottle, or their third. He wondered what AJ had done to all of the wine he’d used to have at his house. Jackass. “I hate AJ.”

“So do I,” Dan said. “I think I’m going to bed.” He rose out of the water, and Justin sat back, just watching. Miles and miles of naked boy, with water streaming down his naked thighs and teardrops running down his naked chest and look, little droplets glistening in the thatch of black hair around his dick. Justin wondered if Kevin would want to fuck Dan. Justin wondered if he wanted to fuck Dan. Dan was too strong for Kevin, too independent, but Dan was also young and very attractive. Besides, was anyone really too strong and too independent for Kevin? Was there anyone Kevin couldn’t break?

No. There wasn’t. Not if he tried. Not if he wanted to.

Strength and independence probably attracted Kevin. He probably enjoyed the challenge. Kevin didn’t tolerate weakness.

But Dan was the center of Justin’s universe. And Dan was dry now, and putting on underwear. That meant Dan probably wasn’t planning on fucking him. Well, shit.

“Well, shit.”

Dan glanced over to the tub. “You’re really drunk.”

Justin frowned at him. “I’m not drunk, I’m stupid.”

Dan laughed. “That’s not actually better. Being drunk, you can get over. Stupidity is chronic.” He reached over, hauling Justin up. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. You dry off, and I’ll see if I can put the bed back together.” He handed Justin a towel. “Use this.”

“Smartass,” Justin muttered, starting to dry himself.

“Just making sure.” Dan stepped through to the bedroom, wading through a mass of bedding. The top and fitted sheets were still intact, so he layered everything else over those, figuring it didn’t matter what went on top of what. It took him longer to untangle everything than he’d expected; it turned out that he was more drunk than he’d realized. By the time he was done, Justin was coming out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around slim hips.

“That looks warm,” Justin said. “And comfortable.”

“We aim to please.” Dan released the last layer. “Climb on in.”

Justin got in with him, dry but naked. “Dan.”

“Yeah?” Either he was going to have to resign himself to the fact that Justin was a nudist, or he was going to have to talk to Justin about the joys of clothing. At least underwear. But maybe that discussion should wait until Justin was sober.

Justin was burrowing deep into the bed, coming close enough that Justin’s knee bumped his thigh and Justin’s hand decided to rest against his chest. “You think I’m hot.”

“I never thought about it,” he said again. Justin was drunk, and freshly broken up with AJ, and probably feeling lonely. Dan got that, and he didn’t want to hurt Justin’s feelings. “Maybe we shouldn’t have this conversation.”

“You think I’m good-looking.”

Hell, he was Justin Timberlake, he wasn’t exactly ugly. But Dan didn’t want to encourage this line of thought. “I think you’re terrific. I think I’m tired. We ate, we drank, we’re warm, aren’t you tired?”

“Dan.” Justin’s arms began to come around him, and Dan had a careful struggle to keep Justin at bay. “I don’t have to be on top. I’m never on top. You can fuck me.”

Oh, god. That tone of voice was willing to offer anything, and those words broke his heart. “Justin,” Dan said, taking the risk of releasing Justin’s wrists so he could put his hand to Justin’s cheek. “Justin, I don’t want that from you. I just want to be your friend. I want to help you, not take things from you. Okay? I just want to go to sleep. Go to sleep with me.”

“Things aren’t supposed to be this way,” Justin said. “I’m doing this all wrong. Everything’s backwards and you’re so…fucking…nice.”

Dan smiled at the grumble in Justin’s tone. “I think you deserve a little nice.”

Justin scowled, turning away, giving Dan his back. “There are no nice guys anymore. There are liars and cheaters and betrayers and backstabbers and fucking AJ McLean, but there are no nice guys.”

“We’re out there,” Dan said. “I’m nice.”

“You’re the only one,” Justin muttered. “And you don’t even want me. Where does that leave me?”

Dan spooned up loosely behind Justin, not knowing how to answer that question. He fell asleep without figuring it out.

They’d spent all day together, talking, eating, talking, writing, talking, creating music. Now they were going back to Jacob’s house, because it was Jacob’s turn to host the sleepover. The drive from Brian’s house to his was the longest time Jacob had been separated from Brian in over twenty-four hours, but they talked on their cell phones the whole way.

They walked through the dark house back to his room. They brushed their teeth, and they got rid of their shoes, socks, and jeans, and they talked some more. Brian had so much to share, Jacob felt like he could tell Brian anything. He sat cross-legged at the foot of his bed, Brian sitting right in front of him on the floor, and he thought that right then, sitting there in boxer-briefs and a T-shirt, blue eyes sparkling and mouth curving into a smile, one knee hugged to his chest, fingers massaging sock lines from one ankle, Brian was the most beautiful creature on earth.

Brian reached up, left hand taking his left hand, right hand taking his right, their wrists crossed. “I have to go away tomorrow.”

He hadn’t expected that. “Where?”

“When Kevin called… There’s something going on, something back home. We’re going back to Kentucky for a day or two.”

“A day or two?”

“It won’t be long. I’ll be back soon. It’s nothing serious, and you know I’d tell you if I could.”

Brian’s eyes were honest, asking him to understand, and he knew he couldn’t refuse Brian anything. “Call me while you’re gone.”

Brian smiled, rewarding him for understanding. “You know I will.” Brian tugged, pulling on his hands, and he fell forward from the bed, onto Brian, tumbling, rolling, ending up on his back with Brian over him smiling into his eyes. “Will you miss me?”

He laughed, because there was a certain freedom in feeling this way, a freedom in loving someone this much because he knew Brian loved him back, just as much, just as forever. “Yeah, I’ll miss you.”

Brian tickled him, getting up. “Come on, I’m old and I need my rest,” Brian said, dragging him to his feet.

“Aren’t you going to tell me you’ll miss me?” Jacob asked.

Brian gazed into his eyes with a heart-warming smile. “Of course I’ll miss you,” Brian said, stroking his sideburn. “You’re my best friend.” The smile became a teasing grin. “Besides, you’re the only one who can decipher all of those lyrics we wrote. I think my handwriting’s deteriorating.”

“It might help if you didn’t leave out words,” Jacob said, getting in on his side of the bed.

Brian got in beside him. “You always know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Jacob said, wanting to touch him. “I always do.”

Brian turned out the light for him, finding his hand in the dark. “You always will.” Warm squeeze. “I promise.”

Kevin hated getting phone calls while he was sleeping, but it was Chris, and he was determined to be nice to Chris. “Hello?”

“Brian’s like glitter.”

Glitter? Glitter was pretty harmless flashing shiny fun. It was also irritating as hell, in Kevin’s opinion, and impossible to get out of sofas, or hair, once it had been there.

Or out of someone’s life, if that someone were Chris. Glitter was sparkly and friendly and happy. Dazzling. But it got stuck to things, and no matter how much dusting, shaking, or vacuuming occurred, it was always still there, little specks of it. To a disturbed man going through mental rambles at four in the morning, Brian probably was like glitter.

Then again, to Chris, Brian was probably sunshine and moonbeams and morning dew and fairy pixies dancing through rainbows, too. “Are you okay?” Kevin asked. “Do you need something?”

“I miss him,” Chris said. “Tell me he loves me.”

“Hasn’t he told you he loves you?”

“I can’t trust anything Brian says,” Chris said. “I can pretend I trust you. Tell me he loves me.”

Kevin realized that this was probably the point where he was supposed to feel sorry for Chris. He didn’t, but he knew that most people would, considering how pathetic, desperate, and hopelessly needy Chris sounded. “Chris, you know that Brian can’t love you. He can’t ever love you the way you want him to. He has feelings for you, but you know he’s not capable of giving you what you need.”

“I need him,” Chris said with desperate insistence. “I need Brian.”

“He can’t give you that. He won’t, anymore. He’s moved on now, and you have to move on, too. Listen to me. I’m going to call you in the morning, in a few hours. Until then, I need you to keep it together. Chris.”

“I need him.”

“When I call you, I’m going to have important information. It’s going to be something you’ll want to hear. I need you to be sane and coherent when I call you.”

“Is it about Brian?”

It was like talking to an addict. Or a mental patient. “Yes. It’s about Brian.”

“Tell me now.”

“I’m not going to tell you now. I’m going to tell you when I call you, later, in a few hours. You wait for my call.”

“Sane and coherent.”

“Yes,” Kevin said firmly.

“I can do that.”

It would be a minor miracle. “Good-bye, Chris.” Kevin hung up, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

There was a noise Dan couldn’t identify, breaking into his sleep. He forced his eyes open, wondering how long he’d been asleep. It felt like he’d only closed his eyes five minutes ago.

The sound came again, bringing with it the realization that he was hung over. Great. Justin, who’d drunk more than he had, groaned but didn’t move.

He’d better get the door, then. Dan unwrapped himself from around Justin and, ignoring his pounding head, opened the door.

“Flowers for Mr. Timberlake.”

Of course. “Thanks,” Dan said, accepting the bouquet. The guy tipped his hat and left, so Dan closed the door and looked for a place to put down the flowers. It was a huge arrangement, and he set it on the coffee table.

Climbing back into bed, he stretched out on his back, wondering who’d sent the flowers. Someone in the industry, maybe, or one of the stores Justin had just spent money in, or… AJ. Shit. Dan tried to remember if there had been a card. There should have been; no one would send an arrangement like that without taking credit for it.

Justin rolled over, and his hand found its way onto Dan’s stomach. “Hmm.” Justin shifted closer. “Door?”

“Just a delivery,” Dan said. “One of your admirers sent you flowers.”

Justin’s eyebrows twitched. “Flowers.”

“Yeah. Looks like ten dozen red roses.”

Justin’s eyes opened. “Roses?”

“Yeah.” Dan wondered why it mattered. Maybe the flowers were from AJ. Justin was reacting as though roses had some significance. But Dan couldn’t imagine AJ sending Justin roses. A bouquet of condoms, maybe.

“Red roses?”

“There were a few white ones.”

Justin sat straight up, fixing Dan with a wide-eyed look. “Was there a note?”

“I didn’t see one,” Dan said. “I might have missed it.”

Justin curled forward, burying his face in the pillows. He laughed, but it sounded painful. After a long silence, he asked, voice muffled, “Did you ever know that something was really bad for you, but you couldn’t stay away from it?”

Dan thought about it as he rubbed Justin’s spine. “No. If I know it’s bad for me, I stay away from it.”

Justin raised his head enough to give Dan a suspicious look. “Not even cigarettes? Drugs? Trashy women?”

“No, no, and no,” Dan said. “I drank too much last night,” he offered, since Justin didn’t seem to like his answer. “I probably eat too much junk food.”

“You’re not human,” Justin accused, rolling over. “God, he makes me feel brain damaged. I’m smarter than this, I know I am. My mama didn’t raise a fool. But it’s like I’m addicted or something. Or brainwashed. I don’t even have the sense to fight for my own survival.”

“Maybe it would be easier if you didn’t fight alone,” Dan suggested, tugging the covers over Justin’s waist. Either Justin was very comfortable around him, or the words “personal modesty” weren’t in Justin’s vocabulary.

Justin was eyeing him suspiciously again. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, but you’re volunteering to help me save me from myself?”

Dan shrugged, reclining beside him. “You can let me know if you have a lot of other people lining up for the job.”

“Kirkpatrick.” He didn’t sound happy, but he did sound wide awake. Kevin wondered if Chris had slept at all.

“I’m going away today. I’ll be back soon, maybe tomorrow. I need you to keep it together while I’m gone.”

“Okay.”

Last time they’d talked, Chris had been spiraling into a Brian depression. There was a strong possibility he hadn’t heard a word of that. “Are you listening to me?”

“Going away tomorrow, back soon, probably day after, keep it together,” Chris recited.

“Good. You won’t be able to call me, so listen to me now. Chris, I need you to stay with Trevor as much as you can.” If Chris had time to himself, he’d probably wander off and sit on Brian’s front step for a day and a half. At least if he was with Trevor, he might do something useful. “I’m going to call him soon. When I’m finished with him, I’ll call you, and then you’ll go to him. Stay with him. I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

“Okay.”

Chris sounded out of it. Kevin decided to jerk him back to the present. “I’m taking Brian with me.”

Sharp, anxious, “What?”

“I’m taking Brian with me. We’re leaving together.”

“Where are you going?”

“Away. When I come back, I’ll have something for you. Something from him. If you’ve done what I’ve asked, you’ll get it.”

“Stay with Trevor. Keep it together. You’re taking Brian? Can I come?”

“Chris,” Kevin said firmly. “Be less manic. Take slow, deep breaths. I will call you to tell you when to attach yourself to Trevor. I will let you know when I’m back. Do. Not. Go. Near. Brian’s. House.”

Chris inhaled slowly, then exhaled slowly. Again. Again.

“Good,” Kevin said. “I’ll call you.” He hung up. He should’ve had that conversation in person, but he had too much to take care of to waste time on Chris.

Justin was dressed, sitting on the sofa, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him, looking at the bouquet.

Dan was sitting beside him, letting Justin work out his own issues in silence.

There were at least four dozen roses in the vase, probably five. Two of the roses were white, nestled together at the center. It was a symbol of something, maybe AJ and Justin’s unity. Whatever it meant, it was getting to Justin. He hadn’t moved or spoken in, Dan checked the time, over forty-five minutes.

Justin sat back, turning his head. “Dan.”

“Yeah?” Dan asked, meeting his eyes, wondering what Justin had decided.

“We’re going home,” Justin said.

“That’s what he wants,” Dan said. “Don’t give him what he wants. You’re having a good time here. If you want to leave, you can go to L.A. or Memphis or-”

“We’re going home,” Justin said. “Now, this morning, the first flight they have.”

“What about the private plane?” Dan asked. “You’re dumping everything just like this, jumping up to run to him? Don’t go back to him. You can’t go back to him.”

“I’m not going back to AJ, I’m just going back home. It has to happen sometime. I can’t hide forever. And things are better now. I stood up to AJ. He knows how I feel. Nothing’s going to happen.”

“He’s been calling,” Dan said. “He got my phone number and he’s been leaving messages. If he walks up to you and asks you to come back, what are you going to say?”

“I’ll say no,” Justin said. “The only thing AJ and I ever had in common was the dance floor. As long as we don’t dance together, everything will be fine. I never want to see him again.”

“I don’t trust him,” Dan said. “I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself. You’ve been up and down and crazy lately. Now you’re calm and everything’s going to be okay?”

“I’m not going to let AJ run my life,” Justin said. “I run my life, and I’ve decided that you’re the center of it. Not AJ and his bullshit arrogance. He can’t take over anymore.”

“He’s sent you a message, and you’re running right back to him,” Dan said, gesturing to the flowers, still not liking any of it.

“I wonder what other messages he’s sent,” Justin said, getting up. “Where’s my phone?”

“Justin…” This feeling of being miles behind Justin and running to catch up was getting old. Dan wanted to have one conversation about AJ where he felt like he and Justin were at the same place at the same time.

Justin sat back down beside him, phone in hand. “Let’s hear what AJ has to say.” He pushed a few buttons, putting the phone to his ear. “Lies, bullshit, lies. Delete. Lies, bullshit, lies. Delete. Threats, lies, bullshit. Delete. Delete. Delete. Delete. Hey, Jen called, I’d better call her back. AJ again. Delete. Delete.”

“Justin.” Dan took hold of Justin’s wrist, lowering the phone from his ear. “You don’t care what he’s saying?”

“Lies, threats, bullshit,” Justin said. “None of it means anything.”

Dan had heard AJ’s messages, and been moved against his will. Justin could listen to that and not react at all? “You don’t care?”

“We’re not dancing, he’s not worth shit,” Justin said. “He’s horrible in bed. Terrible. He just climbs on top and ruts away like a dog mounting a bitch. That’s what I was, that’s what he wanted me to be, his bitch. If I have to be somebody’s bitch, I’m not going to be his.”

“You don’t have to be anyone’s bitch,” Dan said. “You should never be anyone’s bitch.” AJ was horrible in bed? But he’d seen them dance, how they moved together, sexual, passionate, sex in motion. How could that translate to AJ being terrible in bed?

Justin set aside his phone. “Dan. We’re going home. I know you don’t want me to go back, and I know you don’t understand it. But I have to go. I’m going to call about a plane, and we’ll eat something on the way to the airport. Can you help me get everything packed to go?”

Dan looked at him. “I hate this. I hate everything about this. You’re not ready to see him again.”

“Part of me is never ready,” Justin said. “Part of me is always ready. All I can do is work with the third I have left.”

“Wake up, my love,” Brian whispered, his hand stealing across Jacob’s abdomen. He rubbed Jacob’s ribcage through the worn cotton of Jacob’s T-shirt, gazing at his love’s peaceful face. His love was too thin. And too pretty. He stroked Jacob’s lowest rib, watching for the flutter of light brown, gold-tipped, red-tinged lashes.

There it was.

Playtime.

“Hey, Jacob,” he said softly, watching blue eyes open and find him. “I have to go. I have to run out and take care of everything before my flight. I just wanted to say good-bye.”

Jacob rolled closer, sliding a hand up Brian’s naked forearm. “You have to go?”

“Yeah. I should be back soon. It won’t take long.” His hand slid back over Jacob’s ribcage, and he let the movement ease him forward. “I’ll call you.” He touched his forehead to Jacob’s. “I’ll miss you.”

Jacob’s grip tightened on his arm. “I’ll miss you,” Jacob said, and Brian heard the “don’t go” behind his words.

Brian closed his eyes, briefly rubbing noses with him, nuzzling gently, then pulled away. “I’ll call you.” He slid from Jacob’s hand, rising, leaving the bed. “Good-bye, Jacob.”

“Bye,” Jacob said, sitting up. Brian felt Jacob’s eyes on him until he was on the other side of the door.

In the car, he pulled out his phone.

“Hello.”

“I’m finished with Jacob. I have to see Lance and then I’m done.”

“Make it quick. Once I take care of Trevor, we’re leaving.”

“Do I have time to see Chris?”

“Don’t even try it.”

“Kevin, you can’t keep me away from him. I want to see him.”

“When we get back, on my terms. You make him useless to me, Brian, and I can’t afford that.”

“He’s mine,” Brian said. “Don’t make me prove it. I’m letting you borrow him because you need him to get Trevor. That doesn’t make him any less mine.”

“You can have him back when I’m finished with him,” Kevin said firmly.

“I want him now. I miss making him crawl.”

“And sometimes I wish I had Justin bleeding on my sheets, but we don’t always get what we want,” Kevin said. “We’ll talk about when you can see Chris later. Take care of Lance and meet me at the airport.”

Continue on to part nineteen...

Howie took Erik shopping. Justin took Dan shopping. Erik has clothes, jewelry, and a TV. Dan has clothes and shoes. Erik went to bed with Howie and pierced/tattooed/shaved JC. Dan went to bed with naked, drunk, fuck me Justin. If this is supposed to be a story about punishing O-Town, something had better change, because so far, that's a pretty good life.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Sucker"
Boyslash
Home