Copyright November 24, 2002-February 18, 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 eighteen...

        “Hey, sweetness.”  Nick kissed him on the mouth, pushing the door shut behind himself.  “What’s going on?”

        “I’m having a nightmare,” Joey said, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand.  “What are you doing here?”

        “Hanging out,” Nick said.  “Spending time with my boyfriend.  What does it look like?  What’s going on?  Sex, breakfast, errands, you have plans for today?”

        “My first plan is to get rid of you and go back to sleep,” Joey said.

        “What’d you do yesterday?”

        “Fucked your best friend.  What about you?”

        Nick grinned.  “Fucked yours.”  He wasn’t going to bring up Ashley.  Joey didn’t have to know about that.  It was enough that Ashley thought that phone call had been from Joey.  Now Joey knew nothing, and Ashley was worried, and Nick was ahead, just the way he liked it.

        “You’re disgusting,” Joey said, turning away from him.

        Nick shrugged.  “You brought it up.”  He followed Joey to the kitchen, taking a seat at the table.  “So.  What’s going on today?”

        “Ashley didn’t call me yesterday, even though I shoved him out of my bed first thing in the morning and then ignored him.  So I’m sending him a little present and waiting to see what happens next.  My guess is he’ll come over here and offer me his ass.”

        Nick nodded.  “Sounds good.  What present?”

        “Thanks for letting me come over this early,” Brian said, stepping into the house.  “We have to run out of town, family emergency.”

        “This would be a good time for me to jump into action?” Lance guessed.  He was used to getting out of bed and letting in one of the guys, and he’d accidentally slipped into that mode here; except this wasn’t one of them, this was Brian, and he was beginning to wish he’d put on more than a T-shirt and boxer-briefs.

        “A great time,” Brian said.  “Do everything you can.”

        Lance nodded.  It was about damned time.  He was sick of sitting on the sidelines while everyone else took care of business.

        “I’m running late, and I know I just should have called, but…”  Brian reached up to touch his hair.  Lance hadn’t even thought about fixing his hair, and it probably looked crazy, but there was a note of sadness, of regret, lingering with the amusement in Brian’s eyes.  “I wanted to see you,” Brian said softly.

        Lance had been fighting with himself over Howie for days now, in addition to weeks and months and years, and he was sick of it.  Sick with it.  Brian was here, and Brian was yearning for him right in front of his eyes, and why not?  Why not just do it?  Why not take advantage of what was being offered to him, when Howie had taken advantage of him in every way possible?

        He kissed Brian.

        Moaning, Brian kissed back, sucking on his tongue, backing into the door, stroking up under his shirt with cool hands over his heated flesh.  Lance got hard fast, grinding against Brian’s arousal, while Brian made kiss-muffled groaning noises and felt him up with greedy hands.  Lance had never met anything like this before, never had someone react this passionately to one simple kiss.  It was rapidly becoming more than one simple kiss; Brian was squeezing his ass, grinding desperately against him, hungrily mating with his mouth.  The greed in it, the fire, was nothing he’d expected from Brian, and the idea that he’d incited this kind of passion fed his ego as much as it did his own lust.

        He wanted to fuck Brian against the door.  Rocking against Brian, gripping Brian’s hips and fucking Brian’s mouth with his tongue, Lance groaned at the clutch of Brian’s hands on his body, the twist of Brian’s fingers over his nipples, the constant needful sounds issuing from Brian’s throat.  The louder he got, the louder Brian got, and the rough ache of his dick drove his hips forward, grinding against the hardness of Brian’s erection.  His hands fumbled open Brian’s jeans while Brian shoved down his underwear, and when he broke their kiss to breathe Brian panted in his ear, groaning, “Lance, yes, please, Lance, I have to, I want to, Lance,” and wet spurts of cum shot over his abdomen while Brian moaned his name in desperate, aching tones.

        The feel of it, the sound and the need of it, dragged Lance over the edge.  Thrusting against Brian, fucking his dick into the fresh wetness on Brian’s stomach, Lance kissed Brian fast, hard, coming with a coarse groan.

        Someone wanted him.  Someone needed him.  Someone was willing to display that desire openly.  Brian showed him everything, hid nothing from him, was emotionally open to him.

        It wasn’t Howie, but it was Howie’s best friend, and there was something good about that, something wrong and good.

        Brian was moaning softly, petting his hair, sucking sweetly at his tongue.  It felt good, it was tempting, but he knew they didn’t have time.  When he pulled back, Brian whispered, “Lance,” eyes opening, wanting.

        God, this was sucking him in fast.  “You have…  Plane, the plane,” Lance said, feeling like an idiot, taking his hands from Brian’s too-responsive body.

        “I know, I’m…  I’m sorry,” Brian said, pulling his own hands away with obvious reluctance.  “I know you didn’t want this.  I-”

        “No, I did,” Lance said.  He had.  He just hadn’t realized what it would be like.  He couldn’t have guessed that it would be like this.  This much.  This soon.  “I did.  It’s okay.”

        “Okay.”  Brian licked his lips.  “I’ll call you.”

        “Okay.”  Lance remembered to step back, pulling his shirt down, his underwear up.  Blushing, Brian put his own outfit together.  Lance knew he should offer Brian a bathroom or something to clean up in, but Brian didn’t say anything about it.  “Have a safe flight,” he said, unable to think of anything better.

        “Thanks,” Brian said.  “Bye.”  He ran his fingers through his hair, straightening it.  “I’ll…see you.”

        “Bye,” Lance said.  Brian opened the door, flashed him a quick, nervous smile, and left.

        Okay.  That had been…different.  Lance looked at the door.  It showed no signs of being the spot where he’d frantically humped Brian mere seconds ago.  It showed no signs of Brian’s need.  He heard no echoes of Brian’s voice desperately calling his name or breathily moaning desire.

        He wondered how different things would have been if he’d ended up with Brian last time, the first time.

        “Trevor.  This is Kevin.”

        Trevor sat bolt upright.  “Kevin?”  Kevin Richardson?  The best friend of the guy he’d decked?  The person he’d thought would never speak to him again?

        “I didn’t want to do this, but I don’t have a choice.  You’re the only person I can count on right now.  There’s no one else I can call.”

        “I’m here, I’m there, whatever it is,” Trevor said, willing to swear a blood oath.  Anything to make it up to Kevin.

        “We’re about to leave, I’m at the airport, we’re going home to Kentucky for a day or two and there’s something I have to take with me.  It’s a gift, it’s at the engraver’s, they said it won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes and I don’t have time to wait for them and then get back here.  If you bring it to me, I’ll make it.”

        Trevor was up and on his feet.  “Which engraver’s?”

        “Caliton’s, it’s on Juniper near Tenth.  I’d send a messenger but this is important.”

        “I’m on it, I’ve got it.  I’ll call you when I get to the airport.”

        “I’ll tell them you’re coming.”

        “Bye.”  Trevor shimmied into his jeans, snatching up a shirt and shoes on his way out the door.

        Dropping into the seat beside Justin, Dan wondered what the rush was.  It had to be AJ, only Justin didn’t seem to care much about AJ at the moment.  Justin’s moods were so unstable, though, that Dan couldn’t put too much stock into that.  In another half an hour, Justin might be sobbing his heart out.

        Not on the plane, though.  Justin kept himself together in public to a remarkable degree.  Without seeing the private side for himself, Dan never would have guessed the extent of Justin’s misery.  Justin had everything.  How could someone with Justin’s life be this torn apart?

        Two simple letters.  AJ.

        The stewardesses came over for autographs.  Only one of them knew who Dan was.  That was humbling, but it was okay.  Dan wasn’t nearly as much of a public face as Justin was.

        As the plane began take-off, Justin took Dan’s hand in his, squeezing it twice.

        Dan squeezed back, twice.  Justin would be okay.  He’d find a way to guarantee it.

        “We’re waiting for Trevor,” Kevin said.  “Then I have to call Chris and we can go.  Sit down.”

        Brian sat, tugging him down, too.  “We’re calling Chris?”

        “I’m calling Chris,” Kevin corrected.  “What happened to you?”

        “Lance.”  Catching his breath, Brian shot him a smile.  “I had to run home and take a quick shower.”

        Lance.  Lance had more of a spine than some people, but no fucking clue how or when to use it.  “How was it?”

        Brian sat back, flicking his fingers through his hair.  The playful gleam left his eyes, and he shrugged with casual distaste.  “Offensive.”

        That sounded about right.

        “I thought he’d be a challenge, but he’s jumping in even faster than Jacob is.  No one puts up a fight anymore.  I’m shooting fish in a barrel.  Dead, rotting, bloated fish.  How did Howie put up with him?”

        “Howie can put up with anything, once he’s decided on it.”  Howie was one of the last truly nice guys, and when he was willing to accept something, he could tolerate endless amounts of it.  But on the rare occasions that Howie decided he was through with something, he was quietly vicious about removing it from his life.  Lance was just one of those things that Howie had chosen to tolerate.  Personally, Kevin thought that the analogy to dead, rotting, bloated fish was accurate.  Then again, Kevin put up with that cuntbitch Justin, so apparently anything was possible.

        “You’re thinking about Justin,” Brian said.  “You have that look.”

        Kevin felt himself glowering in response to that accusation, and tried to avoid it.  “I need to get laid.”

        Brian raised his eyebrows.  “And you’re going away with me?”  He grinned.  “Besides, I thought you were fucking Chris.”

        “That doesn’t count.  That’s not sex, that’s work.”

        “Maybe we should see if Nick’ll let you borrow Ashley.”

        Kevin didn’t get it.  “Why does everyone assume I’d fuck Ashley?”

        “He’s your type,” Brian said.

        “He reminds me of someone who’d go to the clubs with condoms in one hand and lube in the other, wearing tearaway pants, on the weekend the sailors are in on shore leave.  And the condoms are optional.”

        Brian grinned.  “That’s Ashley.”

        Voices at the door, and Kevin rose.  “We’re about to miss the plane,” he said to Brian, to give Brian the set-up.  Brian nodded, rising, clutching his bag and looking ready to rush out the door.

        Trevor came in quickly, looking like he’d run the whole way.  “I got it,” he said, handing Kevin a slim, wrapped box.  “I hope you’re not too late.”

        “Thank you,” Kevin said, with forced gratitude.  “I appreciate you making the effort.”

        “It was no problem,” Trevor said.  “Any time.”

        Kevin nodded.  “We have to go,” he said, lifting his bag.  “Thanks,” he said again, and walked out.  He heard Brian behind him offering a friendly and sympathetic, “Thanks, Trevor.”  Brian always knew how to add the perfect, complementary note to any scene.

        He paused to talk to security, and Brian tapped him when Trevor was gone.  They went back into the room, closing the door again.  He got out his phone and dialed Chris’s number.

        “Kirkpatrick.  Is Brian there?”

        “Breathe.”  He waited until he heard a complete inhalation and exhalation.  “Get dressed in something you’d wear to look good for Brian, and go over to see Trevor.  Stay with him until I’m back in town.”

        “Is Brian there?”

        “Acknowledge what I just said to you.”

        Inhale, exhale.  “I’ll do your bidding, my great evil overlord.  Is Brian there?”

        “Yes, he’s standing right beside me.”  Brian gestured to him.  “Brian, do you want to talk to Chris?”

        Brian frowned.  “Chris who?”

        “Kirkpatrick.”

        “Oh,” Brian said.  “Why the hell would I want to talk to him?”

        “Brian doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” Kevin said.  “He’s in one of his moods.”  Brian kicked his ankle; he kicked back.  “Go spend time with Trevor.”

        After a moment of silence, Chris said, “When I end up in an asylum, the second name I draw on the padded walls in my own blood is going to be yours.”

        Kevin smiled, because he didn’t have to ask whose name would be first.  “I’ll be in touch.”

        “Not with reality,” Chris muttered.  “Good-bye, evil overlord.”

        “Good-bye.”  Kevin hung up, turning to Brian.  “Let’s go.”

        Fucking with Joey was boring, because Joey was boring, and Nick would rather be sitting at home sorting toothpicks than wasting time with this jackoff.  But it was all for the cause.  So he hung out with Joey, and he got Joey to relax more and more, until they were sitting on the sofa talking about clubs, and Vegas, and strip shows, and Nick decided that he was bored with fucking talking, so he kissed Joey because the sex was guaranteed to be crappy, but at least it would be something else to do.

        Joey pushed at his chest.  “Get off me.”

        “Why?”  It was a reasonable question.  “We’re boyfriends, right?  We fuck all of the time.”

        “We’re not boyfriends,” Joey snapped.

        “What, you think I’d be here if we weren’t?”

        “We - - that makes no fucking sense,” Joey said.  He almost looked like he wanted to laugh.

        Nick grinned.  “It makes as much fucking sense as the rest of this shit.”

        “Yeah.”  Joey relaxed a little.  “What are you into?”

        “What am I into?” Nick repeated.  “Sex, what the hell are you into?”

        “You bottom?”

        “Not for you.”

        “What do you mean, not for me?  You’re my boyfriend, I get to fuck you,” Joey said.

        Yeah, when a frog’s dick talked.  “You’re my boyfriend, you give me head,” Nick said.

        “I’m straight.”

        “I’ve fucked you, AJ’s fucked you, I think they took away your membership card.”

        “Are you gay?”

        Nick shrugged.  “I’m about a seventy-thirty split.  I prefer guys, but there’s less risk with girls.”

        “You want to give me head?”

        “I know I will, someday, but I’m sure as hell not doing it today.  I’ll jack it for you.”

        Joey grinned, opening his pants.  “Okay.”

        Nick got up, kneeling astride Joey’s legs as Joey slid into a slouch under him, pulling him in for a kiss.  Joey talked a bunch of attitude, but Joey’s body wanted it.  Nick wasted time swapping spit, his hand cupping Joey’s jaw, his thumb rubbing back and forth across the bristles of Joey’s beard.  He wasn’t that into the way Joey kissed - - it was too aggressive, too macho.  He liked a little more finesse.  But Joey was getting off on the way he kissed, making these weird, aroused grunting noises and pulling on the hair at the back of his head.

        Nick put his hand down, squeezing Joey through underwear, making Joey groan and pull on his thigh.  Joey liked it a little hard, a little rough, so Nick adjusted his grip as he pulled Joey’s dick out, fisting fast and tight, feeling the slick slide of precum start to ease the way.  Joey was into it, kissing him harder, making panting grunting sounds, hauling his dick out of his pants and jacking it like he was pumping it for information.

        Nick was going to walk away with a limp if Joey kept yanking on him like that.  He eased his dick out of Joey’s grasp, breaking the kiss to give Joey his flushed, open-mouthed, panting, sexed look, which had the desired effect of making Joey moan at him like he was what Joey had been dreaming about for years.  He rose up some, tugging up the hem of Joey’s shirt to get Joey’s arms up, taking it off and tossing it aside.  Locking their gazes, he peeled out of his own shirt, dropping it behind himself and then settling down against Joey slowly, sinking onto Joey’s body like hot fudge oozing into a sundae.  Closing his eyes, he licked Joey’s tongue, slowly rubbing his hips so his dick slid against Joey’s.

        Joey liked it fast, so Nick couldn’t linger too long.  Joey was groaning and kissing him and pulling his hips forward like Nick was a girl he could yank onto his dick, so Nick got down to business before Joey could get any ideas about fucking him.

        Giving Joey more tongue, Nick wrapped his hand around both of their dicks together, moaning like he was crazy for it so Joey would moan back.  Joey did, groaning like it was the best thing ever, massaging his ass with both hands.  Nick pumped their dicks together, rocking slightly, keeping a fast rhythm and moaning by Joey’s ear, licking his jaw wet and twisting his nipple.  “So fucking,” he groaned, and Joey groaned in response, “hot,” pant, pant, “so fucking good, come with me, come with me.”

        Joey grabbed him by the hair and kissed him, tongue-fucking his mouth, the hand still on his ass urging him to fuck against Joey’s dick.  He jacked faster, tighter, feeling the rush of it rise through his body, starting to get into it a little bit himself, his body’s needs surpassing his mind’s disgust.  Joey groaned, louder than before, splattering Nick’s hand and stomach with cum.  Nick pushed himself over the edge, going through his usual set of memories and fantasies to bring himself to orgasm, milking the jism from his dick.

        He should’ve stuck with conversation.  Joey’s stripper stories were more interesting.

        Nick sat up straight on Joey’s lap, waited until Joey’s eyes were on him, and then leaned back to pick up their shirts.  Handing over Joey’s, he rose with vague tugs at his jeans and asked, “Can I use your shower?”

        “Yeah,” Joey said.

        He grinned.  “You want to come with me?”

        Joey gave him a, “Yeah, now I remember why I can’t stand you,” look and said, “No.”

        “Okay.”  Nick bent down and kissed him.  “Back in a couple minutes.”

        Trevor ruled the world.

        He’d thought that after the whole AJ thing, Kevin wouldn’t want to have much to do with him.  Not that a minor fistfight was a serious thing, but being in a band was all about group loyalty, and after being together for all of these years, those guys had to be more like brothers than anything else.  Kevin wasn’t the kind of man who took that shit lightly.  It wasn’t like Kevin was going to start firebombing the house or anything, but he hadn’t expected for them to be friends after that.

        But Kevin had called him.  He was the chosen one.  And he’d done it, he’d hustled his ass off and made the delivery on time.  It had been important, it had been personal, and he’d taken care of it.

        Which meant that maybe he’d redeemed himself, and now they could be cool.

        When Trevor got back to the house, he was surprised to see Jacob at the kitchen table.  Jacob wasn’t around much anymore.  Hell, none of them were, but Jacob was super-glued to Brian’s side these days.  But maybe while Brian was out of town, they’d be blessed with Jacob’s company.  “Hey, good to see you.”

        “You, too, man,” Jacob said.  “You just getting in?”

        “I had to run something over to Kevin at the airport.”  God, he could actually say that and have it be true.

        Jacob gave him a look.  “You had to what?”

        Damn, “When was the last time we talked?” Trevor asked, straddling a chair backwards.

        “I don’t know,” Jacob said.  “We’ve all been kind of busy.  What’s this about Kevin?”

        “Kevin and I have this kind of back and forth thing.  He helps me out, I help him out, that kind of a deal.”

        “Yeah?” Jacob asked, trying to front like he was trusting Trevor’s judgment but still coming across as skeptical.  It was standard Jacob, and Trevor was used to it.  “What’s he doing for you?”

        “Helping me out with Chris, mostly.  Chris is still hung up on Kevin, and I’m trying to get him over it.”

        “If he’s still hung up on Kevin, how serious are you trying to get with him?” Jacob asked.

        It was basic logic that if someone was still all about his ex, Trevor should drop it and move on.  It made sense.  Trying to stick in and fight it out was a waste of time.  But, “I like Chris.  I want to make it as serious as I can.  He’s weird, but he’s funny as freakin’ hell and he’s really sexy in the oddest ways.  He has to be my best friend after you guys.  I just, I really want to make this work.”

        “Then I hope it works out for you, man.  I’m rooting for you.  I just…  Trevor, you know he’s a guy, and you’re a guy.  You’re famous, he’s famous.  How much do you think can go on before people start talking about it and you end up on ‘Hard Copy’ or something?”

        “He was with Kevin, and I never heard anything about it,” Trevor said.  “I had no idea AJ and Justin were together, either.”

        “You have to think about this before you jump in it,” Jacob said.  “You’re putting a lot at risk here.”

        Ashley shuffled in, wearing pajama bottoms, scratching his head.  “Morning,” he said, giving Trevor an embarrassed glance, clearly flashing back to their conversation last night.  “Hey, you’re here,” he said to Jacob.

        “Yeah, waddup, playa?” Jacob asked.

        Trevor stared at him.  “Where did that come from?”

        “Sorry, it’s a thing, Brian - - never mind.  Good morning, Ashley,” Jacob said politely.  “You look like shit.”

        “I drank too much last night,” Ashley said, starting the coffee.  “God, I have to get my shit together.”

        “What’s going on?”  Jacob was using his casual, vaguely concerned friend voice, but his eyes were sharp.

        Ashley rubbed his face, leaning against the sink.  “I don’t know what’s going on.  I can’t even think straight anymore.  Tell me what you’ve been up to.  I haven’t seen you in days.”

        “Or we could talk about that hickey on your chest,” Jacob said.  Trevor watched Ashley blush in an all-over spread of color, looking down at his chest in guilty surprise.  “I guess you’ve been spending time with Joey.”

        “Uh, yeah,” Ashley said, belatedly crossing his arms over his chest to hide the mark.  “We’ve, uh, been hanging out.”

        Trevor coughed.

        “Shut up,” Ashley said, turning redder.

        “Maybe we need to have a group discussion,” Jacob said.  “One of you needs to explain to me why it’s suddenly okay to be openly gay and fucking around with other so-called musicians while we’re trying to build our reputation.”

        “I’m not openly gay,” Ashley said.

        “Ash, you were born openly gay,” Jacob said.  “Isn’t Joey already Nick Carter’s boyfriend?”

        “My life is my business,” Ashley said.

        “Whenever I say anything like that, you jump all over me about how we’re a group and my life affects everybody else, but now you’re fucking around jeopardizing everything and that’s none of my business?” Jacob asked.

        “I’m not jeopardizing anything!  Why aren’t you giving Trevor this speech?”

        “I’m trying!  I probably have to give Erik the damned speech, too!  And I swear, the next fucking member of *NSYNC who walks through that door is walking right back out, because I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but the five of us need to have a talk about this.”

        The doorbell rang.

        The three of them looked at each other.

        Ashley turned towards the door as Trevor rose.

        “Sit!” Jacob snapped, getting up.  “I’ll get it.”

        Trevor hoped it wasn’t Chris.  He could see by the look on Ashley’s face that Ashley was hoping it wasn’t Joey.  Ashley was probably praying to God that it wasn’t Nick.

        “Morning,” the deliveryman said.

        The door opened.  “Perfect,” Jacob said.  “This is perfect.”

        Like Chris was super-thrilled to see Jacob?  “I’m not with him,” he said, gesturing to the deliveryman.

        “Package for Ashley Parker Angel,” the guy said.

        “Yeah,” Jacob said, taking the clipboard and signing for the package.  “Thanks,” he said, taking the box.  The deliveryman left Chris alone with Jacob.

        There were many things that Chris wanted to say to Jacob, most of them along the lines of “rot in hell, scumfuck” or “touch Brian and die.”  No one would ever be worthy of Brian, no one, but Jacob was so supremely unworthy it was a huge cosmic joke that he’d ever come close to touching ground Brian walked on.  Brian was a god and Jacob was bird droppings.

        Jacob shifted the box in his arms.  “Did you want something?”

        Close up, the piece of scum actually was kind of pretty.  Chris decided to stab out Jacob’s eyes first.  “Is Trevor here?”

        “He’s kind of busy right now,” Jacob said.

        Jacob was trying to keep him away from Trevor?  Well, great, then Chris was going to keep Jacob away from Brian, and they could call it even.  “That would be a yes, then.  Yes, he’s here, you just don’t think he has time to see me.”

        “Hey.”  Ashley came up behind Jacob, half-naked and looking relieved.  “Chris.”

        “Ashley,” Chris said.  He made a mental note to talk to Joey.  And to JC.  And he was supposed to find out when Justin was coming home.  And since Lance was coming to him for input and then dismissing everything he had to say, maybe he could get one of the other guys to talk some sense into the idiot.  Howie, a nice guy?  Sure, a nice guy who’d found a guy from who knew where, videotaped Lance having sex with him, and then sent copies of the tape to members of Lance’s family.  Lance’s mom had just loved receiving footage of her son giving head.  The blown-up stills inserted in the cards had been a nice touch.  Merry Christmas.

        “This came for you,” Jacob said, handing the box to Ashley, making no move to let Chris into the house.

        “Hey, thanks,” Ashley said.  “Trevor!” he called.  “Chris is here!”

        Aha.  The brainless fool was unwittingly thwarting Jacob.  Good fool.  Chris wanted to pat him on the head and give him a cookie.

        Ashley wandered off out of sight as Trevor jogged up behind Jacob.  “Hey, Chris,” he said with a smile.  He glanced at Jacob, tapping Jacob’s arm.  “Hey, Jacob, can you let him in?”

        “I don’t think now’s a very good time,” Jacob told Trevor, his voice tight, his eyes sending very clear signals.

        “Jacob, this isn’t - - you can’t keep Chris Kirkpatrick standing on the front porch,” Trevor said.  “We can have a house meeting later if you want to, when everybody’s here, but we’re not doing it without Erik and Dan, and I’m saying again, you can’t leave Chris Kirkpatrick standing at our front door.”

        “Actually, you can, but I don’t make a very attractive lawn ornament,” Chris said.  “And I start to droop if I’m not watered regularly.  It’s not a pretty sight.  I start to-”

        “Fine,” Jacob snapped, stepping back.  “As soon as Dan gets back,” he said to Trevor.  “Ashley, what the hell is that?”

        Trevor pulled Chris into the house, pushing the door shut and kissing him square on the mouth.  “Ignore Jacob.  He’s cranky because his boyfriend’s out of town.”

        Boyfriend?  Boyfriend?  Boyfriend?  Bri-

        Breathe.  Breathe.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Breathe.

        “They’re not really boyfriends,” Trevor said, probably responding to whatever look had crossed his face.  “But you wouldn’t believe how much time Jacob and Brian are spending together.”

        No, he probably would believe it.  He and Brian had been inseparable, once upon a time.  He and sanity, however, had proven quite separable.

        “What is that?” Trevor asked Ashley.  Ashley had opened the box on the coffee table and unpacked a bust.  An authentic, heavy white marble bust.  Of Superman.

        “It’s from Joey,” Ashley said.  Chris was disturbed, but Ashley seemed to like it.  “It was at the museum, in the gift shop.  I saw it, but I didn’t think about buying it.”

        “Won’t his boyfriend mind him buying you things?” Jacob asked.

        Not as much as one might assume, really.  Chris scratched his ear.

        “Jake, we’re friends,” Ashley said.  “Nick knows that.”  Chris wondered if anyone else had heard the wobble in Ashley’s voice on that last sentence.

        “How much did that thing cost?” Trevor asked, hovering halfway between awed and appalled.  Chris had decided to settle firmly on appalled, himself, but his tastes were different from Ashley’s.  And from Joey’s, for that matter.  It really did look expensive, though.

        “Are you going to keep it?” Jacob asked.

        “Of course I’m keeping it,” Ashley said.  “It’s a gift from a friend.”  He really seemed to like it, which just proved that putting shiny objects in front of dumb animals still had a distracting effect.  He packed it back into the box while Jacob practiced looking fed up.  “I’ll find a place in my room,” he announced, and took it upstairs.

        Jacob shook his head and left.

        “So, hey,” Trevor said, giving him a smile.  “Sorry if I look a little crazy, I just dragged my ass out of bed.  You want to come watch me shave?”

        He’d loved watching Brian shave.  The careful drag of the razor exposing those perfect features.  The freshly smooth skin against his lips.  Brian wasn’t just far from him emotionally today, Brian was far away physically, too.  At least with Brian in the same town, he’d felt like their lives were connected in some way.  Now Brian was gone.  He wanted-

        “Stay with Trevor.  Keep it together.”

        “Sure,” Chris said.  “Can I watch you brush your teeth, too?”

        Trevor grinned, leading the way.  “If you’re lucky.”

        “How are you feeling?”  Howie’s voice, quiet.

        “I’m fine,” JC said, hushed, private.  “I think Erik-Michael likes it.”

        “I think so, too,” Howie said.  “You know I love it.”

        Erik peeked from under the fringe of his lashes.  JC and Howie were inches away from him on the bed, JC’s back to him, Howie’s hand caressing JC’s shoulder, JC’s hair.

        “You have that meeting today?” JC asked.

        “Yeah,” Howie said.  “Do you have to go back today?”

        “Yeah,” JC said.  “I probably should go back to my place first.”

        “JC, you know you can take anything from my closet you want,” Howie said.  “And if you’d leave more of your things here-”

        “D., we’ve talked about this,” JC said.  “We can’t live together.”

        “I know we can’t live together, but you spend half of your nights here.  It’d make sense for you to have more of your things here, so you wouldn’t have to run home all of the time.  I’d like for this to be home, too.”

        “I know,” JC said softly, affectionately.  “I know, honey.”  Howie’s fingers slid deeper into JC’s hair, and Erik heard the soft, wet sounds of kissing.  “We’ll work something out, I promise.  I’ll take over a fourth of your closet, if you’ll take over a fourth of mine.”

        Quiet laughter.  “I love you, JC.  I’d be happy to share closet space with you.”

        “I love you, too.”  More muted kissing noises, Howie’s hand rubbing down the back of JC’s neck.

        JC and Howie were pretty damned serious about each other.  Erik knew a lot of women who were pushy about commitment, but he’d never heard a guy asking for it before.  He didn’t really like the reminder that he wasn’t a full partner in this relationship, but he did like seeing the two of them together like this.  They sounded like a real couple.

        Howie’s hand turned, finger crooked, beckoning him behind JC’s back.  Erik grinned, taking Howie’s hand in his and kissing Howie’s knuckles, licking Howie’s fingers.  JC rolled over to face him, drawing him into a deep, passionate kiss, Howie climbing across them to come in behind him, kissing his back and reaching around to pump his dick.  Sucking tongue with JC and fucking Howie’s fist, Erik knew that even if he wasn’t an equal partner now, he would be soon.  They wanted him, they included him, they’d completely revamped his sex life - - and with each passing day, things were only getting better.

        They needed to talk, but he didn’t know where to start.  With Nick?  Everything would be easier if he could pin down how Joey really felt about him.  He couldn’t stand this weird limbo.

        Joey opened the door and gave him a smile.  “Hey, pretty.  Come in.  What’s going on?”

        “I got your present,” Ashley said, stepping into the house, taking his hands out of his pockets.  “I love it.  Thanks.”

        “You’re welcome,” Joey said, one hand cupping the side of his neck, guiding him forward.  “You’re always welcome,” Joey promised, and kissed him, slow and wet.  Ashley closed his eyes, hooking his fingers through Joey’s belt loops, bringing their hips together.  Tilting his head to the side, delving deeper into Joey’s mouth, Ashley moaned at the press of Joey’s hand to the small of his back.

        “Hey, Angel.  It’s good to see you again.”

        Horrified, Ashley broke his mouth free from Joey’s, looking over Joey’s shoulder to see Nick only a few feet away.  “What are you doing here?”

        With a mocking smile, Nick walked closer, closer, draping an arm across Joey’s shoulders.  “I’m Joey’s boyfriend.  What are you doing here?” he asked, tipping his head against Joey’s.

        “Don’t start anything,” Joey said to Nick, keeping Ashley’s body close.  “Ashley came by to thank me.”

        “Thank you for what?” Nick asked, lounging against Joey like he owned Joey, like Joey was his property.  He was throwing it in Ashley’s face, and it was hard not to want to punch him in his beautiful, smug mouth.

        “I got him a souvenir from one of the museums we visited,” Joey said, giving Ashley a private smile.

        “Yeah?” Nick asked.  “Hope you enjoyed your keychain, Angel.”

        Nick was an asshole all of the damned time.  Why-

        Except he wasn’t.  Yesterday, Nick had said tender things and touched him like what they shared was special.  It hadn’t just been fucking, it had become intimacy.  Nick hadn’t been using him or manipulating him or taking him because he was convenient; Nick had treated him well and acted like he liked him.  Like he more than liked him.

        It was like Nick switched feelings on and off.  Or, no.  It was more like there were softer feelings inside Nick, covered up by attitude in public but honestly felt in private.  Maybe Nick did feel things for him - - what, he almost couldn’t imagine - - but didn’t want to display that in front of other people.  It was like they shared something just between the two of them that even Joey didn’t have to know.

        If Joey’s call hadn’t interrupted them yesterday…

        He couldn’t afford to think like this.  He was supposed to be forcing Nick out of his life, and out of Joey’s life.  He couldn’t stand around wondering about what ifs and is it possibles.

        Ashley ignored Nick and focused on Joey.  “I was hoping we could talk.  Alone.”

        “I don’t think so,” Nick said.  “Any private little talks you want to have, you can have in front of me.”

        Ashley shot Nick a look.  “I didn’t think you’d be insecure about this.”

        “I hope you didn’t think I was going to fall for that, either,” Nick said.  “You accuse me of being insecure, I have to prove I’m not, I let you go have your private little talk, you offer Joey your ass…”  Nick’s voice trailed off, and he grinned.  “Maybe that’s not a bad idea, after all.  Can I watch?”

        There was no way to get to Nick.  Nothing offended him; nothing insulted him.  It was fucking infuriating.  “Can you leave us alone?”

        “Okay,” Nick said.  “I’ll go watch TV in the bedroom.”  He licked Joey’s ear, then smirked at Ashley and left.

        Thank god.

        Joey’s fingers drew a line down the side of his neck, making his skin tingle.  “What do you want to talk about, pretty?”

        Ashley decided to build up to it, not spring “Him or me!” on Joey without warning.  “I had a great time the other day.  The museum and dinner and everything.”

        “I did, too,” Joey said warmly.  “I wish we could’ve had more time together in the morning.”

        “Me, too,” Ashley said.  Maybe then he wouldn’t have found himself in Nick’s bed that afternoon.  No, he couldn’t blame that on Joey.  It had been his own fault, his own weakness, his own stupidity.

        He knew that he should be excited to be bouncing between Joey and Nick’s beds, just like guys who managed to bag two girls at once were cheered on by envying friends.  But this wasn’t like that; Joey was taken, and Nick was the taker, and Ashley was being thrown around between hope and joy and misery.  Half of the time he felt high, happy, confident; half of the time he felt used, confused, and utterly weak.  He had to stand up to Nick, say no, but…

        …but…

        …but god, he was weak.  He was making a fool of himself over Joey, and he was dizzyingly weak for Nick, and none of this was going right.  Everything was going wrong, and if he wanted it to be right he was going to have to be strong, but he always said yes to Joey, and he never said no to Nick.

        Joey kissed him.  They were supposed to be talking; he had a lot to say, and they’d barely gotten past the first few minutes of it.  But Joey’s kisses were drawing him towards a slow-burning flame of desire, and he loved getting burned…

        He spent the other half of the ride reliving the morning.  He still suspected that most of the time, threesomes were awkward and messy, with too much confusion and too many elbows and somebody left out half of the time.  But with Howie and JC, everything was seamless and steamy and hot, bodies moving together in a slow, sexual flow until he wasn’t sure where he ended and they began.

        Intellectually, Erik knew that he was twenty-three, so he was a fully grown adult.  He’d been through a lot in the past few years.  But being with Howie and JC made him feel more mature than anything else ever had.

        When they pulled up in the driveway, they parked beside a delivery truck.  Jacob was at the front door, signing something.  “I hope it’s the TV,” Erik said.

        “I can’t wait to see you in your new clothes,” JC said.  “It sounds like you two had a lot of fun yesterday.”

        “Next time all three of us should go,” Erik said.  God, that would be sexy.  Anything involving JC was sexy.  It was like a formula.  Take any mundane activity usually leading to boredom, add JC, and watch it become the most fascinating, dick-hardening thing ever.  “Thanks for the ride.”

        “You’re welcome, honey.  I’m glad I got to see you.  I can’t let Howie keep you all to himself.”

        Erik grinned at the teasing warmth in JC’s tone.  “Feel free to share me as much as you want.”  The truck was leaving, and Jacob was advancing on the car, which couldn’t be good.  Jacob was coming around to JC’s side, too, which was even less good.  JC’s window slid down smoothly, and Erik braced himself.

        Jacob handed JC a slip of paper.  “If you see Lance, could you give that to him for me?”  He was using his polite, asking for a favor voice, but Erik heard the note of disgust underneath.

        “Sure,” JC said easily, taking the paper.

        “Guess I’d better let you go,” Erik said, wanting to get Jacob and JC away from each other as soon as possible.  “I’ll see you later?”

        JC squeezed his hand.  “I’ll call you, baby.”

        “Okay.”  Erik kissed JC’s cheek - - fuck Jacob - - and got out of the car.  “What’s that about?” he asked Jacob as soon as they were out of earshot.

        “What’s that about?” Jacob demanded right back.

        “What?” he asked defensively, glancing over his shoulder to watch JC back out of the driveway.

        “Forget it,” Jacob said.  “A bunch of boxes have been coming in.”

        “Howie and I went shopping yesterday.  What are you doing with Lance?”

        “Nothing,” Jacob said.  “It’s not important, I just want to talk to him.  What the hell did you buy?”  It wasn’t  a rude question; the words were a lot harsher than the tone.  Jacob had meant it when he’d said “Forget it.”  With luck, as long as Erik didn’t bring up JC for the rest of the conversation, everything would be smooth sailing.

        They stepped into the house, and Erik saw boxes stacked all across the foyer.  “Wow.  I guess we got more than I thought.”

        “Yeah, I guess so,” Jacob said.  “Who paid for all of this?”

        “I did.”  A complete lie, but it wasn’t Jacob’s business.  “What are you doing home?”

        “I live here,” Jacob said.

        “Yeah, but you’re always out somewhere with Brian.  Did he find better friends?”

        Jacob gave him a look.  “He had to go back to Kentucky for a day or two.  I’m just as surprised to see you here.”

        Okay, so it was no longer dropped.  “I’ve been busy.”

        “I guess you have.  Listen, Erik…”  Jacob scratched his dreads, looking at him, then sighed, looking away.  “When Dan comes back, we’re going to have to talk.  Don’t do anything serious until then.”

        Serious, like fuck JC?  Oops, too late.  “Yeah, okay.  When’s Dan coming back, anyway?”  It’d been days, and Erik felt guilty, realizing that he hadn’t even called Dan this whole time.

        “I don’t know,” Jacob said, “but I hope it’s soon.  We could use a few clear heads around here.”

        “Clear heads?” Erik repeated.  “For what?  We’re not going through a crisis.  Unless you consider making new friends a crisis, which you must not, since you’re out with Brian at least as much as I spend time with Howie and JC.”

        “Brian’s not trying to seduce me into some gay menage a trois!” Jacob snapped.

        “If Howie and JC were women, this would be okay?” Erik asked.

        “Maybe you missed the red carpets and photo shoots, but we’re celebrities now!  What you’re doing could ruin our career!  Maybe you don’t give a fuck about that, since you actually have started skipping photo shoots, but-”

        “I didn’t skip that shoot,” Erik snapped back.  Damn it, they couldn’t just throw that back in his face.  “I missed it, it was an accident, I told you I was sorry-”

        “The shoot’s done, it’s over,” Jacob said.  “You can’t do anything about that, but you can do something about Howie and JC.  We’re all working really hard for something here, and I don’t want to lose it because you can’t keep your hands to yourself.”

        “I’m not going to fuck this up for anybody,” Erik said.  “JC’s helping us, Jacob, the remix is number one on how many stations right now?”

        “Professional is one thing.  Friends is another thing.  More than that is dangerous, it’s not good for us-”

        “It’s not good for them, either, but they knew that, and they’re still willing to work around it,” Erik said.  “They have a lot to lose, but they’re being careful, they’re making it work.  They know what they’re doing.  I know what I’m doing.”  He changed the subject before Jacob could say anything else.  “Where are the other guys?  I want to show them my brand-new fifty-inch plasma TV.”  Fifty fucking inches.  They had to put it right in the living room.  Maybe he could get the living room TV for his bedroom.

        “Trevor left with Chris, and Ashley’s gone, too,” Jacob said.

        That sucked.  They didn’t all have to be on top of each other all of the time, but usually they ended up spending a ridiculous number of hours with each other anyway, in twos and threes, even all five.  They just tended to group up, because when they weren’t sure who else could be trusted, with backers pulling funding and management turning traitor and cameramen in the fucking bathroom, they at least could trust each other.  But Erik had gotten busy lately, and so had everybody else.

        But that was cool.  They were all just preoccupied.  Things would get back to normal soon.

        “Jacob gave this to me, to give to you,” JC said, handing him a scrap of paper.

        “Really?”  Lance read it: a phone number with “Jacob” scrawled underneath.  “He’s doing my work for me.”

        “What’s the plan?” JC asked.

        Lance led the way back to the kitchen.  “Oh, you know, suck his dick, try not to vomit on his shoes, convince him to let me, the guy who’s not cool enough to go to the moon with, fuck him.”

        “Sterilize your dick,” JC said, accepting a bottle of water.  “Have you heard anything from Justin?”

        “No,” Lance said.  “I called a couple of times, but he’s not answering, and his voice mail was full.  You?”

        “It’s been the same thing,” JC said.  “I don’t know if I should be worried about him.  He was really broken down before he left.”

        “He looked good on TRL,” Lance said.  “But you know Justin, he can pull off anything in front of a camera.”  Justin hid his pain very well from public eyes.  He’d had to learn to.  They all had.

        “What’ve you been doing?” JC asked.

        “Trying to figure out Brian,” Lance said.  “Trying not to embarrass myself.  You’ve been seeing Howie?”

        “Yeah,” JC said.  “I was just there, and I have to go back.”

        Lance nodded, not voicing the instinctive howl of jealousy that opened inside.

        “Have you talked to him?” JC asked with a concerned head tilt.

        Lance shrugged, twisting the cap on his bottle of water.  “Not really.”  Howie had stopped answering the phone.  It wasn’t the first time, but it still hurt.  “How is he?”

        “He’s great.”  JC’s gaze was on the move, nervous, and a faint blush faded into JC’s cheeks.  “I think we’re really on a new level now.  We understand each other better.”

        “What does that mean?” Lance asked, somehow unable to stop himself from causing a train wreck.  “The sex is great?”

        JC’s gaze zeroed in on him sharply.  “The sex is great,” JC said.  “Howie might be the best lover I’ve ever had, besides Nick.”

        And there it was, that animosity, that jealousy.  Lance had expected to be jealous of JC for being with Howie, but he’d wanted to believe he’d accept that and not blame JC for it, since they were all adults and they all understood what was going on.  Then JC had become emotionally invested in Howie, and JC had become jealous of him in return, and that was where the problem began.  Howie and JC having sex, Lance could handle.  Howie and JC falling for each other and building a relationship, he couldn’t handle.  JC resenting him for his relationship with Howie and his earlier claim, he couldn’t handle.  This was supposed to be about business, but it was becoming far too personal.  “Good for him,” Lance said.  “I’m impressed, especially since he can’t stand fucking you.”

        “Howie wants me,” JC snapped.  “The way he touches me, the way he responds to me, he’s not faking that.”

        “You don’t even know who you’re dealing with,” Lance said.  “You think you can read him?  You think you have him figured out?”

        “He was playing a game when he was with you,” JC said.

        That was a low blow, but if JC was going to go there, then so was Lance.  “Nick was playing the same game with you,” he said.  “I’ll bet you think he cares about you, too.”

        Pain flashed across JC’s face, pain and anger.  “At least he wants me.  When’s the last time Howie touched you?”

        “I just fucked him!”

        “I was with him last night,” JC snapped.  “I’m going back to him right now.  When was the last time he asked you over?”

        “That doesn’t mean anything.  It doesn’t mean anything!  You think you have this special relationship?  It’s part of a game!  He’s using you to get to Erik!  Howie doesn’t care about you!”  Howie couldn’t care about JC, because Howie had never cared about him, and if after everything Howie still didn’t give a fuck about him but wanted to be with JC, Lance was going to end up killing somebody.  Lance had been through hell for Howie, and now JC was walking in and getting a free ride?  But Howie didn’t want JC.  Howie had said so.

        Did he really expect that Howie was telling him the truth?

        Howie didn’t want JC?  Who wouldn’t want JC?

        Why did Lance think Howie really wanted him?  JC was right; Howie had been playing a game.  An elaborate, cruel game.  A game that had devastated his life.  He was estranged from his family, he couldn’t always look his closest friends in the eye, he’d all but left the planet to get away from everything that had happened.  And hadn’t that at least in part been about trying to prove something to himself, trying to prove something to Howie, trying to prove that he was special, he was worthy, he was good enough to deserve someone like Howie after all.

        No matter what happened, no matter how far in life he got, no matter how much he accomplished in all areas of his life, he’d still end up standing outside Howie’s door, scratching to be let in.

        “He’ll never love you,” he said to JC.  “If he ever loves anyone, I’m going to break bones to make sure it’s me.  But I’m not sure he’s capable of it.”

        “You don’t think he’s capable of love?” JC asked, disbelieving.  “Howie’s one of the warmest people I know!”

        Lance shook his head.  “That’s just it.  You don’t know him, JC.  I don’t think you’ve ever met him.  I don’t know if I’ve ever met him!”

        “If you’ve never met him, how can you say you know him this well?” JC asked.

        “If I don’t know him, and I’ve spent years of my life in love with him, how can you say you know him at all?” Lance retorted.  “Howie’s an enigma.  He gives you all surface, no substance.  If that’s what you want out of a relationship, then go for it.  But trust me.  If the real Howie’s in there somewhere, he’s not coming out.”

        “Maybe not for you.”

        Fuck it.  “Just go.  You have somewhere to be, and I don’t want to do this.  I don’t know how you went through all of that with Nick and still haven’t learned anything.”

        JC put his bottle on the table.  “Tell me if you hear from Justin,” he said, and walked out.

        As soon as he heard the front door, Lance dialed.

        Howie didn’t answer.

        “I want to fuck you, pretty,” Joey said, moaning halfway through, working down his zipper.  “Let me fuck you.”

        No, wait, he, they couldn’t - - Ashley grasped Joey’s wrist.  “No, I can’t…  Not now, not yet.”  He’d be in complete physical health if Nick hadn’t fucked him, but he couldn’t blame it on Nick because Joey didn’t know about that.  He felt even guiltier now than he had before, because he’d ruined things; now Joey couldn’t even fuck him.  But how was he supposed to explain that to Joey?  And if he was trying to get Joey away from Nick, being useless to Joey sexually wasn’t going to help.  “Let me give you head.”

        “Come on,” Joey urged, kissing him, fisting his dick, making him push into Joey’s hand.  “Let me fuck you.  You know how good you make me feel.”

        He knew, god, he knew, and he was tempted to give in.  He wanted it, and Joey wanted it, and it would be so, so, so good…

        But he was going to have to heal completely first, and he wasn’t there yet.  Almost, he was close, but if they did this now, he’d be back to square one; and fantastic sex or not, he didn’t really enjoy having his ass hurt like that.

        “No, Joey, not today,” he said.  “Tomorrow, we can do it tomorrow, just-”

        “Come on, pretty,” Joey insisted.  “You know you want it.”

        He did want it, god, he wanted it, and the more Joey worked his dick, the more Joey thrust into his hand, the more Joey - - he wanted this, Joey wanted him, he had to have this, he-

        “Joey, didn’t anyone ever tell you that no means no?”  Nick’s voice cut through the moment, and Ashley opened his eyes to see Nick lounging in the open doorway.

        “I thought you were giving us time alone,” Joey said, taking his hand from Ashley’s dick and sitting up.

        Ashley pushed himself into a sitting position, too, shoving his erection back into his underwear, nervous and sweating and relieved and embarrassed and pissed off, grateful for Nick’s interruption but wishing Nick would leave him alone.

        “I got bored,” Nick said, walking closer.  He was…stroking himself…and Ashley realized that Nick was hard inside his pants.  “I started thinking about Angel.”

        Ashley wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, lifting his ass enough to tug his jeans back up, zipping them over his erection and wishing he hadn’t.  But he was too vulnerable to Nick to sit there without as many barriers as he could find, especially with Nick coming closer, closer.

        “You’re having the same reaction I always have,” Joey said, leaning back casually, erection on display.

        God, this was surreal.

        “I like your name, Angel.”  Nick squeezed himself through his pants, and Ashley’s own erection ached in response.  “Ashley.”  Nick unbuttoned his fly.  “Parker.”  He unzipped.  “Angel.”  He pulled the halves of the fly apart, revealing his erection.  Nick wasn’t wearing underwear.  Nick’s dick was hard, and thick, and perfect.  Ashley’s stomach twisted with want.  “It’s a nice name.  Ashley Angel.  It sounds like a female porn star.”  Nick was jacking his own dick, right there in front of them, in front of him, and when his thumb rubbed across the head Ashley’s lips parted.  It was so hard it was leaking, leaking a lot, and Ashley wanted to lick it, taste it, feel that hard, throbbing flesh fucking into his mouth, the weight of it on his tongue, the head forcing past his lips and the-

        “You’re very pretty,” Nick said.  “I’d love to watch you give me head.”

        Nick’s dick was bigger than Joey’s.  Not by a whole lot, just enough to make him wonder how different it would feel in his mouth, how big it might seem, if the length might make him choke, if the thickness would make his jaw ache.  He wanted it to.  He wanted-

        “Come here and suck my dick, Angel.”

        Ashley slid down from the couch and onto his knees, reaching for it with both hands.  Nick relinquished it and he guided it into his mouth, moaning, eyes closing, thighs spreading.  He sucked on the head of it, the fat leaking head of it, licking up precum and fisting the shaft and moaning uncontrollably, taking on more, sucking on it, slurping on it, drooling and groaning and wanting, jacking the base of it faster, feeding greedily.

        A hand in his hair pulled his head back, forcing him off of it; he opened his eyes to look up Nick’s body to Nick’s face.  “Your mouth is my new fantasy.”  Ashley panted, open-mouthed, lips wet, shuddering at the sex in Nick’s voice, the heat in Nick’s eyes, the sensation of Nick’s fingers rubbing back over his scalp.  “Put your hands behind your back.”

        Ashley managed to let go of Nick’s erection, obeying instruction.  He couldn’t look away from Nick’s eyes.  They were hot, commanding, compelling.  Locked into Nick’s gaze, he was aware of Nick’s hand wrapping around Nick’s dick, aware of it throbbing inches from his mouth.

        Then Nick’s erection was at his mouth, the head of it rubbing across his lips, and he moaned, eyes closing, mouth opening further for it.  Oh, god, yes, Nick wouldn’t give him enough so he licked out for it, groaning at the rich salty taste, his own dick painfully erect.  Nick had one hand at the back of his head, one teasing him with his most desperate need, and if he could just get his mouth on it, if he could just-

        “Keep your mouth open and cover your teeth.”

        Ashley swallowed, then obeyed, almost shaking with the desire to take, to suck, to feast on that thick, hard, throbbing, god, there wasn’t even a name for it, erection was too clinical and dick was too common and cock was too simple, this was more than that, Nick’s penis was the physical embodiment of ecstasy and Ashley was owned by it.

        It pushed into his mouth, past his lips and over his tongue and god, it was big, it was too big and it wouldn’t - - he was going to gag, he was choking - - and then it slid away again, and he chased it eagerly, licking, sucking, wanting - - and back it came again, forcing its way into his mouth, filling his mouth and god he couldn’t breathe and he was going to choke but no, don’t leave, it couldn’t leave him-

        “Relax, Angel, don’t fight it.  Just hold still, relax your throat, let me fuck that pretty mouth.”  Nick thrust in, and there was a new rhythm now, a controlled speed, both hands in his hair guiding his head.  All Ashley could do was let Nick take over, let Nick’s erection rule him, moan and ache and lust while the thick, hard shaft plunged into his mouth and down his throat.

        It went deep inside, filling his mouth and fucking into his throat, and every time he breathed in he filled his lungs with Nick’s musk mixed with that delicious, intoxicating scent that was pure Nick, pure sex.  He couldn’t stand having his hands behind his back, couldn’t stand having Nick right here and not touching, so he brought his hands up to Nick’s hips, holding on, slipping just inside Nick’s opened jeans, careful not to disrupt Nick’s easy, rhythmic fucking.  The fluidity of Nick’s hips in motion was in contrast to the thrusting of Nick’s dick forcing itself on him in steady obscenity.  Ashley’s balls were drawn up tight, his body on edge, his erection throbbing with an unsatisfied ache that matched the overwhelming need in his heart.  He wanted this, oh god he wanted this, and he tightened his hold on Nick’s hips, moaning desperately.

        Nick was moaning, too, making slow, aching noises like the ones he’d made in Ashley’s ear last time they’d been making love.  His fingers massaged Ashley’s scalp while he groaned with pleasure.  “Yeah, Angel, yes…  Yes, yes, oh, Angel, your mouth feels so good…  Oh, yeah, mmm, I want to fuck you, fuck your mouth, fuck your oh, yeah, that’s it, that’s right, you feel so good on my dick…”

        He had to learn how to do this, he had to learn this rhythm, he had to be able to give this to Nick again.  Nick was going faster now, pumping into him in shorter strokes, and he sucked greedily, wanting to latch onto Nick’s dick and gorge himself.  Nick’s thick precum was mixing with his own saliva and clogging his throat, and he couldn’t breathe but he couldn’t stop, and he was choking but this could never ever end, and if he ruined this now he’d never forgive himself, and finally in between thrusts he managed to cough his airway clear with quick desperation, and there wasn’t a pause before Nick was plunging back in, and now he practiced swallowing when he could.  It was bad enough that he was an amateur; he didn’t want Nick to decide he was so bad at this he wasn’t worth teaching.

        If there was anything he could master, it was going to be this.

        “Just want to fuck you, fuck your mouth, it feels so good, fuck your beautiful mouth, your beautiful fantasy mouth, come on your face, I’m going to come on your face, oh, yeah, yes, yes, take it, take it all, take it…”  Nick’s dick was gone but hot, wet spurts were landing on his upturned face, and Ashley moaned, opening his eyes, opening his mouth for it, digging his fingers into Nick’s hips and burning with need.  Nick’s dick pushed wet against his lips and he sucked the last drops out, groaning, shuddering, and Nick’s dick was gone but he couldn’t stop, he couldn’t stop moaning, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop needing.  Clawing at Nick’s flesh, gripping and squeezing the generous curves of Nick’s gorgeous ass, he pressed his face to Nick’s abdomen, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses there, licking desperately over sweat-slick skin, wanting, needing, never satisfied, never getting enough.  The sound of his own shuddering panting, his own starving moans, was loud in his ears, but all he could really hear was the memory of Nick’s satisfied groan echoing through his brain.

        A hand cupped his chin, forcing him back, and another hand was scrubbing something over his face, cleaning him off, but he didn’t care about that, that didn’t matter, only this mattered, only this, and he turned his face down, licking across Nick’s wrist, sucking on the blue veins crossing pale skin.  He took Nick’s arm in both hands, kissing the smooth flesh inside Nick’s arm, and his lashes kept fluttering shut but when his eyes were open he memorized the perfect shade of Nick’s light, natural tan, licking his way up to suck on the sensitive skin inside Nick’s elbow.  Licking across it wetly with broad strokes of his tongue, making love to Nick’s gorgeous flesh, Ashley moaned, feeling hot inside, hot and wild and open and free, spinning dangerously through the universe and spinning dangerously out of himself and tethered to nothing, nothing but Nick, and Nick was everything.  This was everything.

        “Angel.”  Nick hauled him to his feet, and being upright was dizzying, alien; Ashley belonged on his knees.  Being face-to-face like this, he was held by the knowledge in Nick’s eyes, drawn to the soft curve of Nick’s mouth.  He kissed Nick, seeking Nick’s tongue, sliding his fingers into Nick’s hair and wishing he could climb Nick, mount Nick, slip inside Nick’s body and live there forever.  Nick was a vortex and he’d been sucked in without warning, and now he was spinning, spinning, being dragged down towards Nick, towards freedom, towards the true nature of sex, towards the beginning of himself.

        “Angel.”  Nick licked at him again, one hand cupping the side of his face.  “I’m sorry, Angel.  I have to go.  I have a meeting.”  Another lick, and all of the words that had made any sense were obliterated from Ashley’s mind.  Moaning with desire, he found Nick’s tongue again, stroking it, sucking it, wanting-  “I’m going to go, and maybe we’ll see each other later.”  Nick backed away from him, and Ashley made a sound of protest as Nick turned away.  Nick couldn’t leave, Nick couldn’t go, not now, not without him.  Ashley’s body ached, and as he watched Nick zip up, he tried to think of a way to explain to Nick why the two of them should never be separated again.

        Nick came forward, and Ashley’s lips parted eagerly, but Nick stepped right past him to-

        Oh, god.

        Joey.

        Joey, right there, Joey’d been right there the whole time, on the sofa, and he’d, he’d acted like, he’d forgotten that - - he’d forgotten everything, all of his resolutions, all of his convictions, all of his promises.  His loyalty to Joey, his pride, his everything, he’d thrown it all aside, and for what?

        Nick leaned down and kissed Joey.

        Ashley’s body ached.

        He’d thrown it all aside for that.  For Nick.  Because Nick was…

        “Bye,” Nick said, and kissed Joey again.

        Nick was dangerous.  With one look, Nick could rip everything away, leaving him exposed, vulnerable, stripped down to his need.  He craved Nick.  Nick was air, a pure rush of oxygen when he couldn’t breathe; Nick was a sumptuous banquet and he was starving; Nick was glorious, rich harmony and he was hearing, really hearing, for the first time in his life.

        If Nick left, he might never hear again.

        He couldn’t go back to that.  He couldn’t go back to polluted air and stale dry crackers and cotton in his ears.  He couldn’t go back to going through the motions.  He’d always known that something was missing, that his sex life had to be lacking something, but he’d assumed that it was men.  He’d been right, it had been men, but it had also been one man in particular.

        No.  He had to be exaggerating this.  Nick was hot, sure, but what about Joey?  He got hard over Nick’s dick, yeah, but he got just as hard over Joey’s dick, and probably over other dicks, too.  He was gay, he was going through his first gay experiences, of course he was excited.  But Nick wasn’t magically hotter than everybody else.

        Nick was gone, and Ashley realized that he was standing in the middle of Joey’s front room with his erection straining against his jeans for the world to see.  Joey stood, and there were cum smears on Joey’s stomach like he’d come already, his half-hard dick hanging out of his open fly.  Joey kissed him, and he kissed back, and he came at the touch of Joey’s hand.  They went back to the bedroom, and he let Joey fuck him, and it hurt but he figured he deserved that.

        He loved Joey, for opening him up to this world.  He loved Joey for being fun and being a flirt and being confident.  He loved going out and doing things with Joey and spending the day together.  He loved Joey, and he wanted to be with Joey, and he still believed that having Joey as his boyfriend would be one of the best things that could ever happen to him.

        But when Joey was inside him, he closed his eyes and pretended it was Nick, and that was when he came.

        “Yeah?” Howie asked.  “How’s he doing?”

        “He’s fine.”  JC was still frustrated with Lance.  Frustrated with himself, for getting into this petty competition with Lance, yes, but also frustrated with Lance, for acting like he was a blind fool.  He didn’t want to tell Howie that they were basically fighting over him, but he did want to figure out which one of them Howie honestly preferred.  “He thinks he knows you better than I do.”

        Howie shrugged slightly, a small smile curving his lips.  “I can understand why he’d think so.  He and I have known each other longer than we’ve known each other.  But he and I knew each other under,” Howie searched for a word, “false pretenses.”  JC almost smiled; trust Howie to phrase it as politely as possible.  “You and I are getting to know each other more naturally.  A lot of what he thought he knew about me wasn’t true, and it’s probably hard for him to figure out what’s true and what’s not.  Like you and Nick.  Of course you know he never really loved you at all, so then you have to figure out how much else wasn’t true.”

        Wow.  JC struggled to keep his face neutral.  That was accurate, but painful.  More painful than it should have been.  He really was still fooling himself, wasn’t he?  When Nick touched him, he wanted the warmth to be true, but why should it be?

        “I still have some affection for Lance,” Howie said.  “We spent a lot of time together, and I got to know him very well.  He has a lot of good points.  He also has some sides I never expected.  I only have my own experience to go on, but I thought that the five of you would be close, tight, like the five of us are.”

        “We are,” JC said.  “They’re the best friends I have.”

        “The way Lance talks, it doesn’t sound like it,” Howie said.  “Every group has problems, and every group has personality conflicts, but the jealousy, the backstabbing…  It sounded like the five of you were having real problems.”  Problems?  Backstabbing?  JC felt his eyebrows draw together as he tried to figure out what Lance could have been talking about.  “And the way he talks about all of you…  But maybe that was during a rough patch.  I’m sure you’ve taken care of all that now.  You’re still together, you must be closer than ever.”

        Rough patch?  They’d been at the height of their career.  They’d broken records and set standards and they’d been high on their new independence.  “What did he say to you?”

        “I’m sure he didn’t mean it,” Howie said, but he was too quick to dismiss the issue, and JC could tell that he regretted bringing it up, that he was lying now.  Lance had meant it.  “And it’s been such a long time, I probably remember it wrong anyway.”

        “How do you remember it?” JC asked, shifting even closer, turning to face Howie as directly as possible.  He wanted to know as much as he could of what Lance had said.  The way he and Lance kept arguing over Howie, maybe there was something else there.  Maybe Lance really didn’t respect him at all.  Maybe now it was all coming out.

        “It was nothing serious,” Howie said.  “Just things about Joey’s sex life, Chris’s talent, Justin’s ego, everyone’s lack of professionalism…  They were just a few off-hand comments, and I wouldn’t have thought anything about them, if I weren’t so careful about what I say about the guys in my own group.”

        Lack of professionalism?  Lack?  “What did he say about me?”

        “JC, it’s nothing.  It’s out of context, it was a long time ago-”

        “You can tell me,” JC said.  “I’m not going to go call him on it, I just want to know.”

        Howie sighed, looking reluctant to speak.  “He said a few things about how controlling you are, and how resentful of Justin you are, and how self-centered you are, and…  Just a few things like that.”

        Resentful of Justin?  He loved Justin.  He was proud of everything Justin did.  A few things like that, how much more was there?!  He hadn’t sat around with Nick bad-mouthing the other guys.  He’d never do anything like that.  They weren’t always perfect, but neither was he, and if they did have problems, those problems weren’t anyone else’s business.

        “It’s amazing, the things people say behind your back,” Howie said.  “And it’s strange, how people talk about each other.  I didn’t expect you to be like this at all.  When Nick talked about you…”  Howie caught himself, and his expression was somewhere between embarrassed and regretful.  “I’m sorry, JC, you should tell me to shut up.  You didn’t come over here to listen to this.”

        “No, it’s okay,” JC said.  “I’d like to hear what Nick said about me.”  He had to face the truth.  He couldn’t really be sure what Nick thought of him, and he couldn’t trust his own perceptions.  Hearing it from someone else, from someone Nick would be honest with, would give him real information, not fantasy to keep him going.

        “He said that you were very good in bed,” Howie said.  “He was very clear about that, and he was right.  But he made you sound…desperate.  Weak.”  Howie shook his head, one hand rising, fingers feathering gently through JC’s hair.  “You’re so confident, JC, so sure of yourself.  He said you were beautiful, and you are, but he made you seem confused, emotional, easily manipulated.  And here you are, self-assured, intelligent, such a good match…  From everything he said about you, I thought you’d drag me down, I thought I’d have to compensate for your weaknesses.  But now…”  Howie was leaning closer, voice confiding, eyes glowing with warm excitement.  “We can do so much together, JC.  You and I can be the perfect team.  That’s what I want, that’s what I’ve always wanted, an equal, a partner.  Lance could never be my equal.  Nick never saw you as his.  But you and I…”

        When Howie kissed him, JC kissed back, letting Howie take him from his pain, his confusion, his betrayal, and his clothes.  He didn’t know what to believe or whom to trust.  Lance wouldn’t say those things, but Lance wouldn’t lie to Howie, either.  Was Howie lying about Lance?  Howie wasn’t lying about Nick.  Nick never had loved him.  Nick never had liked him.  Nick never had wanted him.  He’d been good in bed, and part of that two million dollar game of Get Justin had been Nick’s version of Get JC.  But Nick?  Love him?

        He kept wanting it to be true, kept pretending, kept trying to force reality to match his fantasy.  But it wasn’t true.  Nick didn’t care about him.  He was in love with someone who actively disliked him.  His best friend was bitching about him, about Joey and Justin and Chris.

        But Howie…  Howie’s skin was flawless, Howie’s touches were intimate, and Howie was warm.  Welcoming.  Howie confided in him.  Howie trusted him.  Howie was invested in him as a partner, wanted them to work together, placed some value on him as a person.  Howie wanted him.

        Later, when they were sated and in Howie’s bed, Howie said, “I hope you’re a quick healer.”  The bright flash of Howie’s smile brought a smile to JC’s own face.  “I can’t wait to make love to you again,” Howie said, fingers brushing across his cheek.  “You really are an incredible lover, JC.”

        “So are you.”  It was true.  Howie was a great lover, confident, attentive, seeing to JC’s needs first and taking his own pleasure second.  It was always very clear that Howie was making love to him, JC, and not just some guy with working body parts.  It made their sex more intimate, more powerful.

        They talked about Erik, making plans, deciding how to work out the sexual side of things now that JC’s circumstances had changed.  JC knew that things between them had been bad, very bad, before, but that had been about bad communication and misunderstandings.  They hadn’t gotten along too well for a moment there.  But maybe that was over.  Maybe they really could be equal partners, and even friends.  Maybe more.

        “Hi, Jacob?”

        “Yeah?”

        “This is Lance.  JC gave me your number.”

        “Yeah.”  Shit.  He wanted to hang up.  This had been a good idea in theory, but now he was starting to doubt himself.  What right did he have to interfere in Brian’s personal life?  But, he had Lance on the phone, so he went with it.  “I wanted to talk to you about Brian.”

        “What about him?”

        He wasn’t doing this over the phone.  “Can we meet somewhere?  Your house, my house?”

        “When?”

        The sooner the better, and he didn’t know when Brian would be back in town.  “How’s right now?”

        “Okay.”  Lance gave Jacob his address.  “It might help if I knew what you wanted.”

        “I’ll tell you when I get there,” Jacob said, and hung up.

        Getting out of the car, Justin said, “Fuck.”

        “What?”  Dan looked around, and saw that Justin was looking with disgust at a car.  A sleek, expensive, tripped-out red Mercedes convertible.  “Is that-”

        “That stupid fucker,” Justin said.  “I took the keys from him, I took the fucking keys away from him, what the fuck is he - - I think you should go.”

        “The car’s leaving,” Dan pointed out, as the driver took off.

        “Take AJ’s,” Justin snapped.  “Bastard.  All right, come on, he wants to cause a scene, let’s cause a scene.”  He stormed towards the house, and Dan followed.

        This was what he’d signed up for.  This was the test.  It wasn’t his place to jump into the middle of anybody’s relationship, but he’d be damned if he’d let Justin be hurt again.  He didn’t care how angry AJ got, nobody was raising a hand to Justin, not while he was around and certainly not without paying for it.

        Justin unlocked the front door and stepped inside.  “AJ!” he shouted.  “AJ!”  Dan stepped in behind him, closing the door, and Justin flipped on the light and froze.

        Dan looked over his shoulder.

        “Shit,” Justin whispered.

        Stuffed animals.  There were stuffed animals everywhere.  Huge stuffed animals, some up to Dan’s waist, some even higher.  A tiger curled up on the sofa, a panda bear on the coffee table, a herd of elephants coming in from the next room, lions, bears, monkeys, a giraffe Dan had to look up at in one corner.  Each one had a balloon tied around its paw or trunk or waist, and each balloon said, “I love you.”

        Movement caught Dan’s eye; AJ was walking in from a doorway, stepping around a herd of zebras.  “Justin,” AJ said, advancing slowly.

        Justin was still staring at the zoo.  “I know you’re not doing this to me.”

        “Baby,” AJ said.  “Talk to me.  I just want to talk to you.”

        “I can’t - - get rid of this,” Justin said.  “Get rid of this.  Get fucking rid of this!” he shouted, grabbing the nearest gorilla and hurling it across the room, where it bowled over a pair of kangaroos.  “You can’t fucking do this to me!” he yelled at AJ.  “You don’t have the fucking right to fuck with me!”

        “I have every right,” AJ snarled, the most dangerous wild animal in the room.  Just that instantly, AJ was calm again.  “Justin, I just want to talk.  Give me a chance-”

        “What the fuck are you doing here?!” Justin demanded.  “Get this out of here, get this fucking out of here, I can’t fucking deal with this,” he ordered Dan.

        “Throw it all in the pool,” AJ advised.  “He likes throwing things in the pool.”

        “I took away your keys!” Justin shouted.  “How the hell did you get in here?”

        “Tell me you don’t want me here,” AJ said.  “Tell me you don’t know we belong together.  Tell me you don’t love me.”

        “I want you the fuck out of my house and the fuck out of my life.  I don’t want to see you ever fucking again,” Justin said, stepping forward, his voice angry and filled with conviction, his eyes filled with hatred.  “You’re a manipulative arrogant asshole, and you can’t fuck for shit.  I don’t love you, AJ, I never loved you and I never fucking will.”

        “This is about him, isn’t it?” AJ asked, gesturing to Dan.  “Him, white bread, Danny Boy.  You found yourself a little white knight.  You dance with him?  You fuck him?  He’ll never give you what you need.  I love you, Justin.  I love who you really are.  He loves who he thinks you are.”

        Justin’s voice shook.  “You don’t know who I really am.”

        “Yes,” AJ hissed, up in Justin’s face.  “Yes, I do.  You think he won’t find out?  You think you can keep it from him?  I love you, Justin, I love you more than anyone else ever can, and you know it.  This piece of fucking shit can never make you happy.  He can never touch you in all of the places I can.  He doesn’t even know you have them.”

        “Get out,” Justin whispered, agitated, scared.  “Get out, get out, please, leave me alone.”

        “You’re mine,” AJ whispered.  “You’re mine and I own you.  When you gave yourself to me you pledged everything you had, everything you’d ever have, it’s all mine.  You’re all mine.  Every inch of you belongs to me.  Every thought you have is mine.”  AJ’s voice was quiet, but his eyes were fierce.  “You told me that I was your world, you told me that I was the only person you’d ever love, you told me that there would never be a day you’d put anyone else above me.”  The last words came as a threat.  “You promised to love me forever, Justin, and I know you don’t want to break a promise to me.”

        Justin was shaking, and there was fear in his voice as he panted, “I don’t, I don’t…”

        “Tell me you love me.  Tell me, Justin, tell me you’re in love with me and I’ll go, I’ll leave, I promise.”

        Justin turned his face aside, closing his eyes.  His hands reached back, seeking, and Dan caught them, holding on, stepping closer, letting Justin take whatever he wanted.  “I love you,” Justin whispered.  “I always will.”

        Squeezing Justin’s hands, giving Justin any support he needed, Dan watched AJ.  AJ’s eyes were searching Justin’s face for something, something Dan hoped he wouldn’t find.  Directly behind Justin, Dan couldn’t read Justin’s expression, but something must have changed, because suddenly AJ nodded, looking satisfied.

        “I’ll go,” AJ said.  “For now.”  He looked past Justin, straight to Dan, and his eyes hardened.  Dan tensed, ready for a fight, but after holding his gaze for a long, taut moment, AJ turned away and left.

        At the sound of the door, Justin took a sudden breath, leaning back against Dan’s chest, dropping his head back onto Dan’s shoulder.  “God, I hate him.”

        “You okay?” Dan asked, knotting their fingers.

        “He knows how to get to me, he knows all of the buttons to push.  But I’m not letting him keep that hold over me.  I’m free now.  AJ means nothing to me.  Fucking - - god, I fucking hate him!”  Justin’s voice was furious, his fingers twisting agitatedly with Dan’s.

        “I’m proud of you,” Dan said.

        Justin sounded pained, angry, scared.  “Proud?  Of me?  For what?  I caved!  He had the upper hand from the minute I walked in and saw these fucking animals.”

        “You didn’t cave,” Dan said.  “You said what you needed to say.  You told him to leave you alone.  You told him he can’t mess with you anymore.  You stood up to him, and I’m proud of you.”  He’d seen Justin break down a lot worse than this, without AJ being anywhere near the room.  He’d expected that with Justin and AJ face-to-face, things would go into a fast downward spiral.  This had gone remarkably well, considering, and he really was proud of Justin for standing tall.

        “I don’t know why I let him get to me,” Justin whispered.  “He knows all of the right buttons, I don’t even know how he knows them all.”

        Dan waited silently, squeezing Justin’s nervously flexing hands, letting Justin lean back against him, lending his support.

        Justin took a deep breath.  “I have phone calls to make.  Can I beg you to get this shit away from me?”

        “Sure,” Dan said.  “They look a little big for trash bags, but I’ll think of something.”

        “You can cut their heads off to make them fit,” Justin said.  “Burn them, rip them apart, I don’t care, just make them go away.”

        “Okay,” Dan said.  Justin’s voice was desperate with fear, and Dan wondered what meaning stuffed animals could hold for Justin, but he didn’t ask.  He respected Justin’s right to privacy.

        “I’m going to go call a few people,” Justin said, using their joined hands to push himself upright.  Unlacing their fingers, he turned.  “Thanks for coming with me.”

        “I just want you to be okay,” Dan said.

        Justin’s smile wasn’t up to its usual standard, but it was the effort that counted.  “Trash bags under the sink in the kitchen.  Butcher knife in the knife block.”  With that, he left the room.

        Dan looked over the menagerie.  “Sorry guys,” he told the herd of elephants.  “I’ll try to make it quick.”

matthew@matthewtime.com
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