Sucker

Copyright November 24, 2002-March 25, 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 twenty-three...

            Kevin opened his door.  “You sounded so upset on the phone, I thought you were going to have an accident.”

            “Can you fuck me twice as long and twice as hard as usual?” Chris asked.

            “Yes,” Kevin said.

            “Okay, I’d like a triple order of that, immediately,” Chris said, coming into the house briskly, heading straight for the bedroom, leaving Kevin to follow him.  “And if you could make me come so hard I pass out, that’d be great.”

            “Okay,” Kevin said, following Chris, pulling off his shirt on the way.

            It wasn’t the same.  It wasn’t the same as when Kevin did it.  When Kevin did it, it meant something, it felt like something.  This was just Justin alone in his room, desperate, pathetic, fumbling.  Frustrated and ashamed, Justin shoved the vibrators and the lube off of the bed, watching them roll haphazardly across the floor.  This wasn’t working, this wouldn’t do it, he was such a fucking screw-up he couldn’t even fuck himself right.

            Picking up his cell phone, he dialed AJ’s number.

            “Hello.”

            “Hey,” Justin said, keeping his voice low, not sure where in the house Dan was, not wanting to risk being overheard.  “It’s Justin.  Want to go dancing?”

            AJ was right there with him.  “Your place or mine?”

            “Mine,” Justin said.  “Tomorrow?  I’ll get rid of Dan.”

            “I’ll make myself available,” AJ said.  “Call me.”

            “Okay.  Bye,” Justin said.

            “Bye.”  AJ hung up.

            It wasn’t a perfect solution, not by a long shot, but it was the best option available to him at the moment.  Justin called Kevin, but didn’t leave a message.  He didn’t know how long he could hold out, how long he could take this before he went to Kevin, but he was determined to be as strong as he could, for as long as he could.

            Kevin didn’t want to see him.  Kevin didn’t want to talk to him.  Kevin wanted him gone.  He had to respect Kevin’s wishes.  The last thing he wanted was to bother Kevin.  If Kevin wanted him to stay away, then he’d stay away.  He only wanted Kevin to be happy.  If Kevin was happier without him, then...

            Justin swallowed.  He’d hold out, for as long as he could.

            “Yeah?” Jacob asked, shifting slightly in bed, adjusting the covers.  “Believe me, I missed you, too.  What’d you do?”

            “Ran errands, tied up loose ends.  I saw Lance,” Brian said.  He’d washed Lance’s scent from his body, but Lance’s hot groans of passion were still in his ears.

            “Yeah?”

            Suspicion, displeasure, were creeping into his love’s perfectly blue eyes.  Brian wanted to pet him, soothe him, kiss his fears away.  “He stopped by.”  Brian frowned slightly, concerned.  “Is there something wrong?”

            “Something like what?” Jacob asked.  There was the faintest bit of tension in his voice, slight enough that other people might not pick up on it.  But nothing about Jacob escaped Brian’s notice.

            “You got this look on your face when I mentioned Lance.  He gets the same look whenever I mention you.  Is something wrong?”

            “You know I can’t stand him,” Jacob said.  “Him or those hypocritical Hollywood party boys he calls his friends.  They’re in this for the lifestyle, for the celebrity, and then they sing about it like they’re so sick of being used.  It’s fucking disgusting.  Lance Bass is nothing but a celebrity for celebrity’s sake.  He’s contributed nothing to the world of music.  None of them have.”

            “People probably say the same thing about me,” Brian said.

            “Only because they don’t know you,” Jacob said.  “They don’t know you at all.  They don’t see in you what I see.  Lance, *NSYNC, they had no substance to them to begin with, and now they’re so big they’re like hollow mockeries of real people.  You always had substance to you, you’ve always been real, you’ve stayed real.  You have a passion for the music.  They’re using music to get into that world.  You just love music and want to celebrate that, not yourself.  You’re still connected to who you really are and where you came from.”

            “It seduces some people,” Brian said.  “The hype, the glamour, the bright lights.  They get lost in it before they even see it coming.”

            “Anyone’s who here for the love of the music would never fall for that bullshit glitz,” Jacob said.  “That’s how they weed out the posers and the fakes.”

            “I hope you always stay just like this,” Brian said.  “This honest, this real, this true to yourself.  This tough.”

            “I will,” Jacob said.  “If there’s anybody you don’t have to worry about, it’s me.”

            He watched the movie idly, listening to Dan’s end of the conversation.  It sounded like Dan was talking to a friend.  A female friend.  A female friend who made him a little fidgety.  Justin grinned.  Cute.

            “Yeah,” Dan said.  His voice was getting lower.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  Yeah, me, too.  Me, too.  Okay.  Okay.  Yeah.  I’ll call you.  Yeah, you, too.  Okay.  Bye.”

            “Daniel has a girlfriend,” Justin sang.

            Dan took the rice away from him.  “She’s just a friend.”

            “Hello, I was eating that,” Justin said.

            “Hello, I had it first,” Dan said.

            Justin sighed, reaching to the table and picking up some crab Rangoon.  “What’s her name?”

            “Rebecca,” Dan said.

            “Is she a friend, or a friend friend?” Justin asked.

            “We’ve dated,” Dan said.

            Aha.  “Have you had sex with her?” Justin asked.

            “A few times,” Dan said, enough of a guy to admit it, but gentleman enough not to elaborate.

            Justin grinned.  “Player.”

            Dan laughed.  “That’s me.”

            “You should tell her you’re hanging out with me,” Justin said.  “Tell her about New York.”

            “You think she’d be impressed?” Dan asked.

            “Wouldn’t she be?” Justin asked.

            Dan grinned.  “Yeah.”

            Justin chewed, trying to picture the kind of girl Dan would go out with.  “You’re going to see her?”

            “Maybe,” Dan said.

            If Dan went out with her, more than likely Dan would spend the night at her place, which would leave Justin alone.  He might be able to sleep at AJ’s, though.  But would AJ make him feel remotely secure?  If AJ fucked him hard enough, he might be able to sleep through the night.

            “What are you thinking about?” Dan asked.

            “I need you more than I should,” Justin said.

            “You need more support right now,” Dan said.  “Just to get you through a rough patch.  It’s not permanent.”

            “Is she hot?” Justin asked.

            “Very hot,” Dan said.

            “Hotter than you?”

            Dan laughed.  “Yeah, she’s a lot hotter than I am.”

            Justin looked at Dan, really looked.  Wondered if he could get away with touching Dan’s mouth.  Wondered what was wrong with him.  “You should ask her out.”

            “Yeah?” Dan asked.  “I might.”

            “You should,” Justin said.  He wondered how good Dan was in bed.  Dan probably had more experience than most normal guys their age, but probably nothing compared to Justin.

            Kevin was a phenomenal lover.

He remembered all of those nights when he’d looked into Howie’s gorgeous eyes and Howie had whispered his name and they’d kissed like they were making love.

            He’d thought that Howie had been in love with him.  He hadn’t arrogantly assumed it; he’d been told it, directly from Howie’s mouth.  He’d kissed it from Howie’s lips.  It had been whispered into his ears and murmured against his skin.  “I love you,” Howie had said, and moaned, and laughed.

            Now, he knew that Howie had never loved him at all.

            It was impossible to forget the good times.  Impossible not to fight to get them back.  They’d been happy once; they could be happy again.

            But Howie hadn’t been happy, then.

            Howie had been playing a game.

            Howie still was playing a game.  Lance just couldn’t figure out which one.

            Maybe if he figured it out, he could win.

            He couldn’t take another loss.

            Not when the thing he kept losing was the thing he needed most.

            Not when the thing he kept losing was Howie.

            Nick was impressed.  Not by Joey; Joey was of no interest to him.  Ashley, however, was proving to be a sweeter deal than Nick had expected.  The boy knew how to put on a show.

            Hell, if Ashley could put some of that sex into his onstage performances, they might start selling more tickets.

            The more Nick thought about it, the more certain he was that Ashley was an exhibitionist.  His two best performances had been in front of an audience: tonight, with the two of them watching, and in the cage at Justin’s party.  And he’d never protested all that hard about being coaxed into having sex with one of them in front of the other.

            Nick liked dicksluts, and he liked exhibitionists.  That was part of why he liked JC as much as he did.

            He sat up, folding his legs.  Kevin had a great dick and a great bed, but even the soundest sleep could be broken by the truth.

            Lance was fucking Brian.

            Lance.  Chris loved Lance.  He really did.  He just didn’t think that he’d ever be able to speak to Lance again.

            There was a rustling beside him.  “Cover your eyes,” Kevin said, and Chris closed them.  A click, and light; Chris opened his eyes to see Kevin sitting up beside him.  “Something’s more wrong than usual,” Kevin guessed.

            “I offered him Cheetos,” Chris said.  “I tried not to talk to him, I didn’t know that he was going to come anywhere near me, but he walked up and he started asking questions and I know that you said to stay away from him but he was there, so I offered him Cheetos.  He caught me staring, and I tried to play it off.”

            “Chris, what are you talking about?” Kevin asked.  “Jacob?”

            “He’s really bitter and frustrated and, let’s face it, an asshole, but his eyes are incredibly blue and his mouth is really, really pretty,” Chris said.

            “Chris.”  Kevin cupped his chin, turning his face.  “Stay away from Jacob.”

            “I’d never fuck up anything for Brian,” Chris said.  He wouldn’t.  He couldn’t.

            “Good,” Kevin said, and released him.

            Chris looked at Kevin.  Kevin had green eyes.  “Lance’s eyes are green.”

            Kevin didn’t look impressed.

            “Brian wants Lance to have sex with him, doesn’t he?”

            Kevin stated it as simple fact: “Yes.”

            Chris tried to smile, and failed.  “Do you know what dying feels like?”

            Kevin frowned.  “Chris-”

            “Jacob was wearing one of Brian’s shirts,” Chris said, quickly changing the subject.  “It was dark blue and it had three white buttons and there was white trim on the collar and I always tried to get Brian to open it at the neck but Brian said he didn’t want to show off his cleavage.  I used to unbutton it for him and lick him right there and he’d laugh and Jacob was wearing it today and everyone has more of Brian than I do, it’s like I never existed.”

            “Chris,” Kevin said firmly.  “What did Brian do to you today?”

            Chris choked on the pain in his own laughter.  “He didn’t do anything to me today,” he said.  “That might be the problem.”

            His eyes opened again; a chill ran down his spine.  That voice, it hadn’t sounded human.  “Justin?” he asked, to make sure.

            “Everybody knows.”

            Dan tightened his embrace, wanting to reassure.  “Everybody knows what?”

            “Everybody knows.”

            “Justin,” Dan said.  “Come on, talk to me.  Everybody knows what?”

            “Everybody knows.”

            Dan’s blood was cold.  “Justin, who’s everybody?”  He patted Justin’s chest, hooking his chin over Justin’s shoulder.  “Justin.  I’m going to turn on the light, okay?”

            “No!”  The panicked shout proved, at least, that Justin had heard him.  “No!”  Justin was struggling, twisting, turning, grabbing at his shirt, his shoulders.  “No, you’ll see!  You’ll see!”

            “I’ll see what?” Dan asked, catching hold of Justin’s hands.  “What do you think I’m going to see?”

            Justin froze.

            Silence.

            Dan waited.

            Justin wasn’t moving.

            “Justin?” Dan asked.

            “You don’t see,” Justin said quietly, like he was coming to a realization.  “You’ve never seen.”

            “Seen what?” Dan asked, keeping his voice calm.

            “You don’t know,” Justin said.  “Turn on the light.”

            Dan released Justin’s hands and reached back, turning on the light.  Justin was propped on one elbow, studying him like he was an abnormality.  “What do you think I’m going to see?”

            “You’re so blind,” Justin said quietly, like it was an odd mystery to him.  “You’re blind.  Everyone’s so blind.  You never see.  It’s right here and you won’t even see it when you’re looking right at it.”

            “Maybe it’s not there,” Dan said.

            “You’re a good person,” Justin said.  “You don’t want to take advantage of me.  You don’t want to spend my money.  You won’t have sex with me.  You won’t use me.  Not even when I want you to.”

            “If that’s all it takes to be a good person these days, our standards are getting pretty low,” Dan said.

            “Maybe you do see,” Justin said.  “Maybe you just don’t want to admit what you’re seeing.  Maybe everybody knows, they just can’t admit that they know it.  Maybe that’s what’s been keeping me safe.”

            “Safe from what?” Dan asked.  “Justin, you have no idea how many of our conversations I can’t follow.  It’s like we’re jumping in mid-conversation and I have no way of keeping up.”

            Justin cupped the side of his face in one hand, fingertips stroking slowly once down his sideburn.  “I want you to stay with me.”

            “I’m right here,” Dan said.

            “You’re the center of my universe,” Justin said, gazing into his eyes and seeing…what?  “You’re the only good thing I have left, the only person who makes sense anymore.  You’re the only one I can trust.”

            “You have great friends,” Dan said.

            “Things are different now,” Justin said.  “Something’s going on, and things aren’t right.  I don’t know if we can get through it.”

            “You can get through anything,” Dan said.  “You just have to stick together.”  He took Justin’s hand, lowering it.  “Tell me how I can help you.”

            Justin looked down at their hands.  “Protect me from him.”

            Dan squeezed his hand, twice.  “I’ll do everything I can.”

            Justin squeezed back, twice, and met his eyes.  “I hope you never see,” Justin said, quietly, emotion in his eyes.  “I don’t think that I could take it.”

            “Morning,” Kevin said lazily, sitting up.  “How do you feel?”

            Chris did an internal check.  “Like going home and hiding in the closet and calling Brian.”

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with Trevor lately,” Kevin said.  “I’ll take him off of your hands today.  If you call him when you get home, you can have the rest of the day to yourself.”

Chris was surprised.  “You’re giving me a break?”

            “You’ve earned it,” Kevin said.

            Chris looked into Kevin’s eyes for the truth.  “Is Jacob Brian’s love?”

            “Yes,” Kevin said.

            “Is Lance Brian’s love?”

            “No,” Kevin said, just as calmly.

            “Then who’s Lance?”

            Kevin didn’t blink.  “Nobody.”

            “Hey,” AJ said.

            “Are you ready to go dancing?” Justin asked.

            “Ready whenever you are,” AJ said.

            “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

            “You can park in the garage.”

            “Okay.  Bye.”

            “Bye.”

            Justin hung up the phone and hesitated.  He dialed Kevin’s number.  There was no answer.  He hung up without leaving a message.

            The shower stopped, so Justin finished putting on clothes.  A few minutes later, Dan came out of the bathroom, dressed.  “Hey.”

            “Hey,” Justin said.

            “You okay?” Dan asked.

            “Yeah.”  Justin figured out what was wrong.  “I forgot about breakfast.”

            “That’s okay,” Dan said.  “I can get something at home.  Maybe you should eat, though, you look like you could use it.”

            “I’ll get something on the way,” Justin said.

            “Okay,” Dan said.  They went downstairs.  “Have a good meeting,” Dan said.

            Justin squeezed his hand, one two.  “I’ll call you later.”

            Dan squeezed back, three four.  “Bye.”

            He hung up the phone and kissed Ashley, feeling Ashley up and making him laugh.  “You were hot last night,” he said, watching an embarrassed blush color Ashley’s cheeks.  It was true; Ashley had put on a great performance.  Watching him move like that, Joey had wanted him more than ever.

            “Thanks,” Ashley said.

            “You’re a lot sexier than you think you are,” Joey said, running his thumb along the edge of Ashley’s jaw.  “You should be aware of it.  Own it.  Use it.  You could have people eating out of your hand.”

            Ashley’s smile was embarrassed, but flattered.  “I wouldn’t know what to do with them.”  He grinned a little, wrapping an arm around Joey’s shoulders.  “Besides, the only person I want eating out of my hand is you.”

            Joey kissed him, stroking his side.  “I’d love to eat off any part of your body.  But I have to go.  I forgot I had this thing to do today.”

            Ashley sighed, but smiled again.  “Okay.  I’d better go home and make sure everybody’s still getting along, anyway.”

            Joey kissed him again.  “I have to run and get in the shower.  I’ll call you later.”

            “Okay,” Ashley said, kissing him back.

            “I love you, pretty.”

            Ashley’s eyes widened.  “Joey.”  The backs of his fingers caressed down the side of Joey’s face, following the line of his beard over his jaw.  “I love you, too.”

            When Jacob opened his eyes, he was alone in Brian’s bed.  He got up, sliding on his jeans, wiping sleep crud from his eyes and wandering down the hallway.  He found Brian in the sanctuary, sitting among the pillows on the floor, strumming quietly.

            Jacob sank down at his side, watching, listening.  He could wake up to this every day.  It would be good to wake up to this every day.  To Brian, and music, and a deep sense of peace.

            Brian had stopped to see Lance before he’d gone to Kentucky.  For sex, according to Lance.  And yesterday, his first day back, he’d seen Lance again.  For sex, again?

            Jacob loved Brian, and Jacob hated Lance, and the mere thought of Brian letting that bastard - - it made his skin hurt.  He had to stop it.  He had to get Brian away from that asshole.

            He wasn’t going to confront Brian.

            He had no problem confronting Lance.

            When the music stopped, Brian turned to him with a warm, welcoming smile.  “Good morning.  You in the mood for breakfast?”

            “Yeah,” Jacob said.  “Listen…  I have to go run some errands later.”

            “That’s okay,” Brian said.  “I have something I want to take care of, too.  We can split up after breakfast, and then hook up later.”

            “Great,” Jacob said, relieved that Brian wasn’t pressing.  He didn’t want to lie.  Now he just had to decide what the hell to say to Lance.  Lance thought way too much of himself and his sexual prowess.  Lance and Brian weren’t friends; Lance wasn’t capable of forming a true bond, especially not with someone like Brian.  Lance was using Brian for sex.  So, fine, Jacob would use Lance.  Users deserved to be used.

            Lance kissed Howie slowly, savoring the pleasures of Howie’s mouth, his hands stroking over Howie’s bare flesh.  He was only a foot away from the front door, but he had no interest in leaving.  Not when Howie’s half-naked body was pressed to him invitingly and Howie’s sensuous lips were giving him every reason to stay.

            But Howie gently ended their kiss, looking at him with luscious, dark eyes.  “Thank you for last night.”

            Lance’s hands flattened over the small of Howie’s back, keeping Howie close.  “I want to come back tonight.”

            Howie hesitated.  “I’m sorry, Lance.  JC’s coming over later, and he may want to stay.”

            “I want to stay,” Lance said, keeping his voice firm, managing not to snap.  “You’d let what JC might want later override that?”

            “JC and I are working together,” Howie said.  “I would have thought that you’d respect that.  You wanted the five of us to come in and help you.”

            “Help?” Lance repeated, stepping back.  “Fucking my best friend isn’t helping!” 

            The slightest widening of Howie’s eyes betrayed his hurt; the subsequent narrowing of them betrayed his anger.  “What do you want me to do?”

            “I want you to love me!” Lance shouted.  “If you can’t love me, if you hate me, then tell me that you hate me!  Show me some emotion!  Be a real person!  I didn’t fall in love with a cold, manipulative, passive-aggressive asshole!  I fell in love with someone fun, and warm, and sexy, and nice, and generous, and loyal.”

            “You think that I’m not real?” Howie asked, injured.  “You think that I hate you?”

            “Last night you were welcoming.  You said that all I have to do is call.  Now when I say that I want to see you, JC might need you.  When can I see you?” Lance asked.  “When won’t JC need you?”

            “I won’t know that until it happens,” Howie said.  “JC has to take precedence now, because Erik does.  Until this is over, I have to make myself available to both of them.”

            “And when will you be available to me?” Lance demanded.

            Putting a hand on Lance’s shoulder, Howie tilted his head to one side and met Lance’s lips in a sweet, tender kiss.  Pulling back, Howie whispered, “I don’t owe you anything, Lance,” and looked into Lance’s eyes.

            Staring, Lance felt his frustration grow and change.  He’d been fed up; now he was furious.  Howie was never going to give him anything.  Howie was never going to give him anything real, anything tangible, anything that he could latch onto.

            He’d come here last night, feeling an urge to be with Howie, to get back to what mattered, to lose himself in Howie’s embrace.  He’d walked away from Brian and pushed his way back into Howie’s bed, and for what?

            Lance looked at Howie, feeling a new, thick layer of disgust settle in.  Disgust for Howie?  Disgust for himself.  He was never going to get what he wanted here.  He’d never get what he needed from Howie.  Why did he keep trying?  Why even bother?

            “I don’t need this,” Lance said.  He didn’t.  He had a life.  He had friends, a career.  He didn’t have much of a family anymore, thanks to Howie, but he did have someone new in his bed.  Someone who was good to him.  Someone who was in love with him.  Someone who gave generously everything that Howie withheld.

            Lance loved Howie.  But he didn’t have to waste his time running after something that would never be within his grasp.  He was tired of slamming into the same brick wall over and over again.

            He’d never get back the love he’d once had.  He’d never even get the hatred that he feared.  Howie didn’t respond to him enough to display contempt.

            If Brian’s emotion wasn’t real, at least it was an attempt to trick him into believing.  Howie didn’t even bother with that anymore.

            Lance wondered what had happened to Howie.  Where had that amazing, generous spirit gone?

            It had never existed at all.

            Losing Howie’s love had been easier than realizing that Howie never had loved him.  Never, not at all, not once.

            Lance reached for the doorknob.  “I miss you.”

            “I’m right here,” Howie said, confused.

            Lance looked at him.  “No,” he said.  “You’re not.”  With that, Lance left.

            When Chris got home, he checked his messages.

            Nothing from Lance.

            He had one call to make, and then he could spend the next twenty-four hours dying.  Chris dialed.

            “Townhouse, Dan speaking.”

            “Hi,” Chris said, forcing himself to sound normal.  “Is Trevor there?”

            “Yeah, hold on.”

            Chris worked on staying sane.

            “Hey, what’s up?” Trevor asked.

            “Hi,” Chris said.  “Just calling to say hi.  Hi.”

            “Hi,” Trevor said.  “You don’t want to see me today, do you?”

            Chris didn’t want to see any human being while he was in this condition.  He wasn’t up to conversation with a clod of dirt at this point.  “Why?”

            “My hair’s green.  A sick puke green.  Some dead motherfucker who’s going to pay put green dye in my shampoo.  I washed most of it out, but there’s still this sick green tinge to it.  I’m going to try to get rid of it, maybe dye over it, but it looks ill.”

            Chris had forgotten all about that.  He’d have to remember to tell Justin, later.  “Green?” he asked.

            “Yeah,” Trevor said.  “So, maybe we can get together tomorrow, when I’m not green like Gumby.”

            “Yeah,” Chris said.  “It’s a shame to miss it.  Tell Dan to take pictures for me.”

            “Over my dead body,” Trevor said.  “Call me tomorrow.”

            “Okay,” Chris said.  “Bye, Gumby.”

            “Bye,” Trevor said.

            Chris hung up and went to crawl into bed and die.

            “I didn’t fucking do it!” Erik shouted.

            “Somebody did!” Trevor shouted back.

            “It wasn’t me!” Erik yelled.

            “It had to have been someone,” Dan said.

            “How many fucking times do we have to go over this?!” Erik demanded.  “I didn’t fucking do it!”

            “Do what?” Ashley asked.

            “Trevor’s hair’s green and he’s saying that somebody put green shit in his shampoo and of course he had to accuse me!” Erik shouted.

            “Do you know anything about it?” Dan asked Ashley.

            “No,” Ashley said.  Now that he looked at it, there was a definite green tint to Trevor’s hair.  “It was in your shampoo?”

            “I didn’t even notice it, because my shampoo’s kind of green anyway,” Trevor said.  “Now I look like a freaking idiot.”

            “Can’t you dye it back or something?” Ashley asked.

            “Yeah, but that doesn’t answer the question of who did it,” Trevor said.

            “There have only been a certain number of us in and out of the house,” Dan said.  “The five of us, Chris, Justin, I can’t think of anyone else.  I’ll vouch for Justin.”

            “It wasn’t Chris,” Trevor said.

            “How do you know?” Erik asked.

            “It wasn’t me,” Ashley said.  It couldn’t have been Jacob, either, or Dan, and Trevor wouldn’t do that to himself.  But if Erik said it wasn’t him, then who was it?

            “Whoever did it had better fucking admit it,” Trevor said, glaring at Erik.

            “And until then, you’d better stop accusing innocent people,” Erik snapped back.

            So much for making sure everybody was getting along.

            Justin ran his hands over AJ’s back comfortably, running his fingers through the hair at the back of AJ’s head.

            AJ licked his neck.

            “Can I fuck you sometime?”

            AJ made a noncommittal sound.  “I never come with dick in my ass.”

            Justin frowned, idly massaging between AJ’s shoulder blades.  “Never?”

            “I can’t come with anything up my ass.”  AJ shifted familiarly, getting more comfortable.  “Dick, fingers, anything.”

            That was weird.  Or maybe it wasn’t.  Justin’s sexual experience with guys was pretty damned limited.  It sounded weird, though.  He stroked the back of AJ’s neck.  It wasn’t like he felt particularly affectionate towards AJ, like he wanted to caress AJ lovingly.  He just felt comfortable with AJ, like AJ’s body was an extension of his body, like AJ’s skin was his skin.  “You give incredible head.”

            AJ laughed against his neck, and raised up, propped on one elbow, looking down into his face.  Justin’s hand drifted down to draw lazy circles on AJ’s back.  “I’ve heard that before.”  He lowered his head, nibbling gently on Justin’s neck.  “How’s Danny Boy?”

            “Same as usual,” Justin said.

            AJ looked into his eyes.  “You have to keep your priorities straight.”

            The group.  The guys.  Himself.  Kevin.  The plotting, the scheming, AJ, Dan.  “They’re straight.”

            “You have to keep hating him,” AJ said.  “Don’t fall for the big blue eyes and the knight in shining armor act.  He’s nice to you, but you can’t let that change anything.”

            “I know how to hate,” Justin said.  “You’re fucking me, and I still hate you.”

            AJ grinned.  “Works for me,” AJ said, and kissed him.

            Justin kissed back, keeping up with AJ’s pace, wrapping his arms around AJ, tightening his thighs around AJ’s hips.  He’d been used, destroyed, and discarded.  Being with Kevin had taught him a lot, including how to survive.  He could use Dan for friendship, he could use AJ for sex, he could use people and hate people and get from them what he needed.  Sex wasn’t about love.  Friendships weren’t about trust.

            This wasn’t the life he wanted.

            This was the life Kevin had abandoned him to.

            He’d get from it what he could.

            When the phone rang, Ashley grabbed it like it was a lifeline.  “Townhouse, Ashley speaking.”

            “Hey, Angel.”

            Nick.  Ashley backed into the next room, suddenly aware of every breath.  “Hi,” he said, not sure what tone to take.

            “I want to talk to you,” Nick said.  His voice was calm, normal, like they were any two friends who had business to discuss.

            “Now?” Ashley asked.

            “Yeah,” Nick said.  “Are you busy?”

            “Not really,” Ashley admitted.  He hesitated.  “I don’t know if we should see each other.”

            “We just saw each other last night.  I know you saw me, Angel, and I sure as hell saw you.”

            “I meant without Joey,” Ashley said, trying to resist the embarrassment.

            “We’re old enough to talk without adult supervision,” Nick said.  “If you want to play with the big boys, Angel, you have to be a big boy.  I want to talk to you.  Are you man enough to meet me face-to-face?”

            “I’m man enough to handle anything you think you have to throw at me,” Ashley said.  “I’ve already proven myself, to you and to Joey.”

            “I’m at home,” Nick said.  “I’ll be waiting.”  He hung up.

            Chris wondered how often dead people’s phones rang.  Probably a lot, at first, because not everyone would know that the person was dead, immediately.  Friends would call.  Family members, even, before the news spread.  A boss might call, wondering why the deceased hadn’t shown up for work.  Telemarketers would call.  Wrong numbers.

            His phone was still in his pocket.  He decided to turn it off and kick it out of bed.  He wanted to be alone with his misery.  He didn’t even care who the hell was calling.  He didn’t even-

            Chris’s heart stopped.

            For one suspended moment, the universe contracted down to the space of Chris’s cell phone, and the display, which said, in five capital letters: BRIAN.

            With abrupt, dizzying speed, the universe expanded again in a blare of light and color and sound.  Chris’s thumb pushed the “talk” button in fumbling desperation, as the horror of the possibility of missing Brian’s call struck him.  He knew, better than anyone could, that if he missed this call, he couldn’t just call back.  There was no guarantee that Brian would answer.  “Brian?” he gasped.  “Is that you?”

            “Of course it is.”  Brian’s warm, happy voice put Chris directly into heaven.  “Who else would it be?”

            Chris felt himself panting for air.  “Brian,” he said, because it had to be said, “I love you.”

            “I know,” Brian said gently.  “I love you, too, Chris.  And right now, I need you.”

            Chris was on his feet.  He didn’t even have words.

            “Are you willing?” Brian asked.

            The question.  “Are you willing to pay for the privilege?”  Chris hadn’t heard it in a long time, but he answered with eagerness, almost with confidence.  “Yes.”  Brian loved him.  Brian needed him.  Brian wanted him.  Chris would pay for the privilege; Chris would pay any price.

            Brian didn’t want money this time.  He wanted jewelry.  Chris didn’t care what Brian wanted - - money, jewelry, eye of newt, the head of a giant, it didn’t matter.  Chris would give Brian anything.

            Brian loved him.  Brian needed him.  Brian wanted him.

            Chris was alive.  Heart-poundingly alive.

            Jacob faced him directly, right there in the foyer.  “What do I have to do to get you away from Brian?”

            “You’re not going to get me to stay away from Brian,” Lance said.  “You’ll have more luck getting Brian to stay away from me.”

            “He thinks you’re his friend, but he has other friends,” Jacob said.  “Better friends.”

            “They don’t give him head,” Lance said with a smile.

            Jacob’s indignant fury was almost visible.  “He can get head from anyone he wants.  I could find a dozen women who’d be willing to do that and more.”

            “I’m not a woman,” Lance said.

            “You can be replaced,” Jacob snapped.

            “By who?” Lance demanded.  He stopped, smiled.  Almost laughed.  “You?”

            “You think I can’t?” Jacob asked, angry, aggressive.  “You think I won’t?”

            Lance couldn’t believe how easily Jacob was falling right into the trap.  It was like Jacob was searching for it with a map and a flashlight.  “I don’t think you’d even know where to start.  You’ve never touched dick in your life.  Brian likes my experience.”  He smiled, letting his gaze drop.  “You do have a pretty mouth,” he said, raising one hand to-

            Jacob knocked Lance’s hand aside.  “Fuck you,” he said, furious, almost snarling.

            “If you want to know how Brian likes it, I can teach you everything you need to know,” Lance said.  “If you want to go out and get experience on your own, you’re welcome to it.  I have some friends who’d love to get their dicks in your mouth.  Or, if you want to try sucking Brian’s dick for your first time, you can go ahead, if you’re willing to take the risk.”

            “You’re such a fucking asshole.”  Jacob seethed.  “Brian would never be friends with anyone like you.”

            Lance just smiled.  “Brian and I are very good friends.  In a lot of ways, I’m much closer to him than you are.  That’s exactly why you’re here.”  He popped open the button on his fly.  “You want to do it right here, or in my bedroom?”

            He didn’t think that Nick would leave him and Joey alone, just because he told Nick to do it.  But he did want Nick to see him as a threat.  He’d proven himself last night.  Joey was in love with him.  He was winning.  And Nick was about to see it.

            “I’m here.”  He looked Nick in the eye, determined to keep the upper hand this time, or at least to have equal footing.  He was not going to let Nick intimidate him or embarrass him.  Joey wanted him.  Joey was in love with him.  Nick didn’t have anything he didn’t have.  “What do you want to talk about?”

            “This,” Nick said, and kissed him.

            “Trevor, this is Kevin.  Is this a bad time?”

            Holy flying Jesus.  A chainsaw could be severing Trevor’s head from his body and it would still be a great time to stop and answer the phone for Kevin.  “No, it’s fine.  What can I do for you?” he asked, hoping to sound casual, not “ohmygoditskevin squeal!”

            “I didn’t want to bother you, but everyone else is busy this afternoon.”

            He was Kevin’s last resort.  Hell, he didn’t care if he was eighth on the list or three hundredth; what mattered was that he was on the fucking list at all.  “I don’t have much going on.  What do you need?”

            “I’m having some changes made to my house, and they’re going to be delivering a few things today.  Something’s come up and I won’t be able to be there.  I need someone to let them in and oversee things.”

            Oh holy freaking god.  He was going to let people into Kevin’s house?  That meant that he was going to be inside, and responsible for, Kevin’s house.  They had that level of trust?  After he’d gotten into it with AJ?  The delivery, the airport, he must have impressed Kevin or something, he must have proven himself worthy of a second chance.  “I’d be happy to do that for you,” Trevor said.  That was true, as long as “happy” covered “orgasmically ecstatic.”

            “I’m going to be at the Windsor Pike in twenty minutes,” Kevin said.  “Can you meet me there to get the keys?”

            God god god fuck yes.  “Yeah,” Trevor said.  “I’ll be there.”

            “Okay,” Kevin said.  “I’ll see you then.”

            “Bye,” Trevor said, and hung up, and shouted so loudly Dan had to come in to make sure he was okay.

            “Joey keeps telling us to fuck each other,” Nick said, devouring his mouth and twisting his nipple until his feet hurt from wanting.  He didn’t remember where his shirt was.  He couldn’t make that matter.

            “Not without him,” Ashley said, panting.  That seemed like an important point.

            “I want you,” Nick said, and his hands were cupping Ashley through denim, squeezing, and Ashley was hard, hard and moaning, moaning and needy.  There was nothing in the world except the wall at his back and Nick in front of him, the wall cool and unyielding, Nick hot and wanting and all over him.  Nick was kissing his mouth and touching his face and he couldn’t think about anything when Nick was this close, couldn’t think about anything but the ache in his groin and Nick’s hair under his hands.  “I want you, Angel, I want you.”  There was rich, aggressive lust in Nick’s voice, and it doubled Ashley’s own desire, bringing him passion, bringing him heat.  He felt wanted, really wanted, like Nick needed him, like there was something that he had that Nick couldn’t get anywhere else.

            Nick’s T-shirt was between Ashley’s hands and Nick’s skin, and Ashley wanted to tear right through it.  Nick’s thumb was flicking his hard, tight nipple and Nick’s hand was opening his jeans and Nick’s body was, Nick’s mouth, Nick’s, god, please, “Fuck me,” Ashley moaned, “fuck me, Nick, fuck me.”

            Lance hadn’t expected Jacob to be a good kisser.  He’d been right; Jacob wasn’t a good kisser at all.

            Jacob was an incredible kisser.

            That was probably good news, because it made Lance’s work marginally more bearable.

            After a few hot, tense minutes, Jacob pushed him away, forcing him back and looking ready to punch him.  “Why the hell are we - - I’m not here to make out with you,” Jacob snapped.

            “No, you’re not,” Lance said.  “You’re here to learn a few things.  Brian’s had women throwing themselves at him for years.  He’s used to it, he’s experienced, he knows what he likes.  He’s very familiar with his own sexual desires.  He’s been ignoring men for all of his life.  If you think that you’re going to break him out of that and get him to take a huge leap like this, you’d better show him something pretty damned special.”

            “It can’t be that hard to learn how to fuck men,” Jacob snapped.  “You’ve done it.”

            “But I haven’t managed to seduce Brian,” Lance said.  “What feels good to Brian’s dick is only five percent of it.  Brian’s had cheap, meaningless sex.  He doesn’t want that anymore.  Brian’s romantic.  He’s even idealistic.  You’re going to have to show him that you’re the hottest thing he’s ever come across, but you’re going to have to show him a lot more than that, too.  You’re going to have to show him love, romance, grand passion.”  Lance looked at the skinny son-of-a-bitch in front of him and almost laughed.  “You don’t stand a fucking chance.”

            Jacob ignored Lance, thinking about what he’d just heard.  Love.  Grand love.  Romance.  Brian didn’t want to get head.  Brian wanted to be in love.

            This wasn’t solely about seducing Brian’s body.  He had to seduce Brian’s heart, too.

            He could do that.  He loved Brian, and Brian loved him.  He could bring that to the next level.  He could bring Brian a grand love.  This was his perfect opportunity to create something great, something just between the two of them.

            He’d give himself to Brian, fully, and Brian would do the same.

            He’d have to learn everything he could about gay sex.  He’d learn every move, every trick, every nuance. He had to have all of it down to a science.  He was going to have to seduce Brian’s body as thoroughly as Brian had stolen his heart.  He couldn’t do this halfway, not any of it.  He’d give Brian all of the sex and the love that Brian wanted from life.  He’d fulfill Brian’s every desire.  They’d share something great.  The love of a lifetime.

            Chris had clipped his toenails and flossed his teeth.  He was wearing his best jeans and his whitest socks.  He had on two strands of beads and brand-new black boxer-briefs.  He rang Brian’s doorbell, ran a thumb over each eyebrow, and tried not to bounce in place.  Brian loved him, Brian needed him, Brian wanted him.  Either he was panting like an animal or he wasn’t breathing at all; he wasn’t sure.

            The door opened.  “Does anyone know you’re here?” Brian asked.

            Brian was so incredibly right in front of him that Chris’s dick stiffened rapidly, filling out against his fly.  “No,” he said, because he’d never compromise Brian like that.  Also, stopping to tell someone might have slowed him down, and nothing could stand in the way of his path to Brian.

            “Park in the garage and come in through the back,” Brian said, and closed the door.

            Chris hurried to do that.  As he started his car, the garage door rose, and he drove in, parking beside one of Brian’s cars, careful not to graze the paint with his car door as he got out.  The garage door lowered again, and he approached the door to the house.  Hesitantly, heart pounding, Chris opened the door and stepped into a brief hallway.

            “You came.”  Walking through a doorway into the hall, Brian stopped in front of him, voice soft, inviting.  “I knew you would.”

            “I’ll do anything you want,” Chris said.  Brian was too close and Chris just wanted to touch, to feel, to experience Brian again.

            “Will you?” Brian asked.  There was something in his eyes, something almost guarded, holding back.  A test.

            Chris knew what Brian wanted.  He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out the small velvet box, opening it and showing it eagerly, watching Brian’s eyes.  He’d bought exactly what Brian had asked him for, one pair of expensive diamond earrings, studs, not too big but real diamonds.

            Brian smiled, taking the box from his hand without touching him.  “A gift for my love,” Brian murmured, running a fingertip across the diamonds, stroking the velvet of the box.  “Thank you, Chris.”

            “I did what you wanted,” Chris said.  “I did everything you asked.  I did it right away.”  That had to count for something, that had to be worth something.

            “When does Kevin need you?” Brian asked.

            “Not until tomorrow,” Chris said, his heart lifting, hoping, maybe…

            Brian’s thumb rubbed over the lid.  “When does Trevor need you?”

            “Not until tomorrow,” Chris said again.  Maybe, please…

            Brian smiled, closing the box with a snap.  “Then you’re all mine.”

            In that moment, Chris knew ecstasy.

            They made out, slowly, easing out of their clothes, JC’s hands cupping the firm curves of Howie’s ass, Howie’s quiet whispers of pleasure licking around JC’s erection.  Howie still wasn’t outright moaning, but the soft vocalizations he did make were as full of desire as any groan.

            JC was doing some moaning himself, licking around the mushroom head of Howie’s erection while his hips managed not to slam his own dick down Howie’s tempting throat, when the doorbell rang.  He froze in mid-lick.  It could be Lance.  It could be Nick.

            His dick was no longer in Howie’s mouth, but Howie was jacking it in slow rhythm.  “Can you see who it is?” Howie asked with a final squeeze, letting go.

            JC twisted, leaning over the back of the sofa, twitching the curtain aside just at the edge.  He peeked out to the driveway.  “That’s Erik’s car.”

            Howie crawled in behind him, one hand braced on his hip, the other by his shoulder on the back of the sofa.  “His timing’s consistent.  It’s always bad.”

            JC smiled.  “What do you want to do?”

            Howie settled against him more comfortably, dick rubbing absently against his ass.  JC closed his eyes, indulging the warm wave of want.  He missed getting fucked.  “We might as well go through with it now.”

            “Yeah,” JC agreed.  “Now’s as good a time as any.”

            Howie kissed the back of his neck.  “Maybe we can get back to this when he’s gone.”

            JC turned under him, catching his mouth in a kiss.  Howie’s dick was hard against him, and JC rubbed up to meet it, erection against erection, Howie’s hand-

            The doorbell chimed again.

            “Fuck it,” JC muttered, breaking the kiss.  Howie got off of him and JC reached for his clothes.  At least with Erik at the door, JC could appear disheveled without having to face any questions.  He pulled on his clothes and ran a hand through his hair, following Howie to the door, lingering just a few feet back.  “Let’s start the show.”

            Howie opened the door.  “Erik-Michael,” he said, with only half of his usual warmth.

            “Hey,” Erik said, as JC walked up behind Howie.  “Trevor was pissing me off, and I had to get out of the house.”

            “Maybe you should call, next time, before you come here,” Howie said, his voice almost edging on cold.

            “Yeah, okay,” Erik said, looking taken aback, his eyes skipping from Howie to JC and back uncertainly.  “Did I interrupt something?”

            “It’s good that you’re here,” JC said.  “Come in, we have to talk to you about something.”

            “Sure,” Erik said, stepping into the house.  “What’s going on?” he asked as Howie closed the door behind him.  He flashed them a charming nervous grin.  “Am I in trouble?”

            Howie turned away.

            Erik’s grin disappeared.  “What?” he asked, worried.  “Did I do something?”

            “Honey,” JC said, stepping forward, taking his hand.  “Did you say anything to anyone about us?  About how we’ve let you in?”

            Erik’s gaze flickered nervously.  “I told you that I wouldn’t.”

            “Chris has started asking me questions,” JC said.  “He said that Trevor told him some things.  There’s no way for Trevor to know anything, unless you’ve said something.”  JC squeezed Erik’s hand, looking into Erik’s scared eyes.  “This was supposed to be private, Erik-Michael.  This was supposed to be just between the three of us.  Howie and I opened up to you, we let you into our relationship.  We shared with you, honey, and we trusted you.”

            “I only told the guys, just the four of them, we tell each other everything.  You know how it is.  They weren’t supposed to say anything to anyone, I-”

            “We haven’t told anyone,” JC said.  “I haven’t told my friends, and Howie hasn’t told his.  They know about me and Howie, but they don’t know about you.  We asked you to respect our privacy, Erik-Michael, and you couldn’t do that for us.”

            “I won’t tell anyone else,” Erik said quickly.  “I’m sorry, JC, I fucked up.  I was excited, you know, I was in bed with the two of you, I had to do a little bragging,” he said with a quick, desperate smile.  “But I won’t anymore, I’ll shut up, I won’t say a thing.”

            “I’m sorry, baby,” JC said.  “We can’t trust you.”  He let go of Erik’s hand.  “I think we need to call this off.”

            “Shit,” Erik said.  “No, come on, I’m sorry, JC.  Howie, I’m sorry,” he said, but Howie didn’t respond, so he turned back to JC.  “It won’t happen again.”

            “We can’t be with someone we can’t trust,” JC said.

            “You can trust me!” Erik protested.  “You can trust me.  I’ll prove it.”

            “Your friends come first, and we can understand that,” JC said.  “It’s hard not to tell them what’s happening in your life.”

            “I won’t,” Erik said.

            “What if they ask you?”

            “I can handle it,” Erik said.  “I’ll tell them that there’s nothing going on, that we’re just friends.”

            JC hesitated, pretending to be tempted.  “I don’t know,” he said.  “I don’t know if that’s enough to make me trust you again.  You gave us your word before.  I don’t believe you can keep it from them.”

            “I can,” Erik said.  “It won’t be that hard, Ashley believes anything you say to him.”

            JC sighed, rubbing his palm over Erik’s shaved head.  “I want to believe you.  We’ve been great together.  I don’t want to let go of that now.”

            “Then give me another chance,” Erik argued.  “Come on, JC, this has been incredible.  I’ll do whatever you want.”

            “Can you go behind their backs?” JC asked.

            “Sure,” Erik said.  “If that’s what it takes, I’ll tell them we’re just friends, I’ll sneak out, whatever.  I’ll do it.”

            “You need to lie to them for us,” JC said.  “A lie big enough to show us that we can trust you.”

            “Okay,” Erik said.  “Like what?”

“It won’t be enough,” Howie said.  His arms were crossed over his chest, one hand cupping his bicep up near his shoulder.  His voice was firm, cold, but just enough pain leaked through to let Erik hear that he was hurt.  “He stood here and lied to our faces when he told us that he was keeping a secret for us.  He stood here and lied to our faces when he told us that we could trust him.  It’ll be easy for him to lie to them, and it’ll be easy for him to lie to us again.”

“What if it’s a big lie?” JC asked.

            “No lie could be large enough for me to trust him again,” Howie said.

            “Howie, I’m sorry,” Erik said.  “Come on, you know how much this means to me.  You can’t just tell me to fuck off like this.  Give me a chance, let me do something.”  He stepped closer to Howie, putting his hand over Howie’s on Howie’s arm.  “Please?”  He smiled coaxingly, leaning closer.  “Just give me-”

            Erik never finished his sentence, because Howie interrupted him with a kiss.  A slow, deep kiss, the passion of it making JC take a step back.  Howie had one hand splayed against Erik’s chest, fingers gradually tightening on the front of Erik’s shirt, Howie’s other hand on the back of Erik’s neck, sliding up the back of Erik’s skull.  The slow, burning possession of Howie’s kiss had Erik grasping at Howie’s body for support, hands finally taking hold of Howie’s hips to bring their bodies together with the same need as their mouths.

            “I want you,” Howie whispered, and kissed Erik again, licking into his mouth until he whimpered and ground against him a little.  Even knowing that this was all part of the scheme, even knowing that Howie didn’t want Erik, JC couldn’t help but be turned on, watching.  Howie was playing the scene perfectly, and Erik was responding with unhesitating eagerness to Howie’s feigned lust, and the way their mouths met and clung, the way Howie shifted against Erik like their clothes were in the way, the way Erik’s hand slid down over Howie’s ass…  Howie opened his eyes, taking his mouth from Erik’s, gazing into Erik’s eyes.  “But I can’t be with someone I don’t trust,” Howie whispered, and turned away, leaving the foyer.

            “Wait,” Erik said, and turned to JC a little desperately.  “That’s it?  It’s over, just like that, good-bye?”

            “It doesn’t have to be,” JC said.  “I think I know what you can do.”

            “What is it?” Erik asked.

            “You have to lie to your friends,” JC said.

            “Okay, I can do that,” Erik said.

            “You have to make them believe you,” JC said.  “Really believe you.  This is a lie you can’t take back.”

            “Okay, right, what is it?” Erik asked impatiently.

            JC paused.  “They’ve all had serious girlfriends since the five of you got together?”

            “Oh, yeah,” Erik said.

            “You have to make all four of them believe that you’ve slept with their girlfriends.  One of Ashley’s, one of Jacob’s, and one of Dan’s.”

            Erik’s eyes widened.  “Slept with their girlfriends?  I’m not fucking their girlfriends.  I don’t fuck my friends’ girls.  Ashley’s my best friend!  Jacob’s girlfriends, Dan’s girlfriends, they’re good girls, no one would ever believe they’d get with me behind their backs.”

            “You’ll have to work around that,” JC said.

            “I’m not doing it,” Erik said.  “I can’t say that.  I can lie to them about something else, but it’s not going to be that.  I’m not making them think I’m trying to fuck their girlfriends.”

            “You have to prove to Howie that you can choose us over them,” JC said.

            “I don’t choose anybody before them,” Erik said.  “The guys come first.”  He shook his head.  “No way.”

            “Then I’m sorry, Erik-Michael.” JC let his eyes fill with regret.  “This has to be over.”

            “It doesn’t have to be like this,” Erik said.  “God, you can’t take this away from me, you have no idea how much I want to be with you.  I’m sorry, JC, you know I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

            “We’re not taking this away from you,” JC said.  “You proved it didn’t mean anything to you when you betrayed our trust.”

            “I was in bed with a guy for the first time in my life!  Two guys!  You and Howie!  How the hell am I supposed to keep that a secret?”

            JC took his hand.  “I’m sorry, honey.”

            “I can’t lie to them about that,” Erik said.  “Can’t it be something else?”

            JC kissed him, a brief brush of lips.  “I’m going to miss you, Erik-Michael.”  Another kiss, light as a feather.  “I’m really going to miss you.”

            “This fucking sucks,” Erik whispered, and kissed him.  “Talk to Howie for me, tell him I’m sorry.”

            “I know you’re sorry, honey.”  JC kissed Erik again.  “I’m sorry, too.”

            Erik sighed.  “You changed everything, and now I’m supposed to go back to my old life like nothing ever happened.”

            JC kissed him slowly.  “Good-bye, Erik-Michael.”

            “I can’t hurt them like that,” Erik said.  He looked into JC’s eyes.  “God, I wish I could.”  He closed his eyes, kissed JC again, and left.

            The front door closed.

            JC smiled, wiping Erik’s kisses from his mouth with one hand.  He heard footsteps behind him; Howie’s arms circled his waist.  “Good work,” Howie murmured.  “Now all we have to do is wait.”

            “Thanks for coming.”  Kevin wasn’t warm, but he was polite.  Trevor guessed that people who drew AJ’s blood didn’t get any of Kevin’s warm, open smiles.  He looked great, though, polished and immaculate in a dark suit.  “The washer and dryer should be coming in half an hour, and the couches, tables, and chairs should be coming half an hour after that.  The floor plans are on the kitchen table.”

            “Okay, great,” Trevor said, accepting the keys.  “Anything else I should know?”

            “I don’t think so,” Kevin said.  “You can call me with any problems.  Just leave the keys on the table and lock up when you leave.”

            “Okay,” Trevor said.  He couldn’t get over how green Kevin’s eyes were.  Greener than the dye in his hair.  Why did he have to meet Kevin on a day he looked like a complete freak?  Why would life do this to him?

            “Trevor.”  Kevin hesitated.  Trevor decided that not breathing again until Kevin spoke might kill him, but that was okay.  “Thank you,” Kevin said, like he didn’t want to say it but he knew that Trevor deserved it.  “You’re doing me a huge favor, and I appreciate it.”

            “Any time,” Trevor said.  “I mean that, any time.”  He already had his dream job, but running errands for Kevin would be a great dream job number two.

            Kevin put out his hand, so Trevor shook it.  Kevin’s grip was firm and confident, and Trevor’s brain was full of gibberish.  “Chris,” Kevin said, and paused.  “He’s very lucky.”

            Of course Chris was lucky; Chris had had sex with Kevin.  “Thanks,” Trevor, and made himself let go of Kevin’s hand.

            “Thank you,” Kevin said.

            Trevor had keys to Kevin Richardson’s house.  “Thank you,” he said, and left before he could make any more of an ass of himself.

            Brian was touching him.  Stroking his hair, his ears, his jaw.  Caressing his neck, his cheeks.  Fingers drifting over his eyebrows, his nose, his necklaces.  Brian touched his eyelashes.  Brian touched his mouth.  “I’ve missed you,” Brian said.  Brian’s voice was gentle, and happy, and sorrowful.  “I’ve missed you so much, Chris.”  Fingers stroking Chris’s sideburns.  “No one’s ever loved me the way you have.”  Fingers drifted along Chris’s hairline.  “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I’ve loved you.”

            “Do you?” Chris asked, desperate to believe.  “Do you love me?” he asked, taking the risk of putting a hand on Brian’s thigh.  They were sitting so close together that Brian’s legs were knotted through his, and when he put his hand on Brian’s leg, Brian’s naked foot pushed against his groin.  Chris moaned at the added pressure, at the sudden reminder of how very hard he was.

            “You know how much I love you,” Brian said, cupping Chris’s face in two hands.  “Chris, pet, I’ve always loved you.  Always, always and forever.”  The honest emotion in Brian’s voice wrapped itself around Chris’s heart while Brian’s thumb brushed across his lips.  “I don’t ever want you to doubt that I love you.  I want you to remember it and feel it every day, even when we’re not together.  I love you, Chris.”  Brian was looking directly into his eyes, gaze loving and firm and powerful.  “I love you, I will always love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone else.”

            Chris swallowed.  Brian was in love with him.  Brian was in love with him.

            “Oh, my sweet pet.”  Brian hugged him, arms wrapping close around him, Brian’s chest to his, Brian’s chin over his shoulder, Brian’s foot pressing his erection.  “I’ve missed you.”

            Brian was in love with him.  Brian was in love with him.

            Brian’s voice was an intimate whisper, the sweetest of all invitations.  “Make love with me.”

            Pulling together as a group was going really well so far.

            When the phone rang, he was the only one around to answer it.  “Townhouse, Dan speaking.”

            “White bread.  I want to talk to you.”

            Dan hadn’t expected for AJ to call him.  Surprised, he said, “I don’t think that we have anything to talk about.”

            “I think that we do.  I’d drive over to see you, but usually when I show up at your house somebody gets hurt, so maybe you should come to see me.”

            Dan’s eyebrows came together.  “Don’t threaten me.”  He wasn’t impressed by it, and he wasn’t scared.

            “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

            “I don’t want to see you,” Dan said.  “We don’t have anything to talk about.”

            “This is going to happen,” AJ said.  “Do you want it the hard way or the easy way?”

            “I don’t want it at all.  Good-bye.”  Dan hung up.

            The new washer and dryer looked sophisticated enough to orchestrate a moon landing.

            Kevin’s bedroom was marked on the floor plan.  Trevor wondered if it would be really wrong to take a peek.

            Trevor wondered if Kevin had hand-drawn the floor plan personally.

            He was very careful to have the new furniture - - great, really expensive-looking stuff - - put in exactly the places marked on the plan.  He probably pissed off the delivery guys, but he didn’t care.  Making friends with the delivery guys was not as important as making sure that everything was the way that Kevin wanted it.

            Trevor remembered what Kevin had said to him before.  What people did for Kevin demonstrated how much they cared.  If he did a half-assed job, it would look like he didn’t really care.  If he did everything right, he’d be showing respect.

            When the deliverymen were gone, Trevor took a piece of paper from the tablet by the phone and scrawled a quick note.

            Kevin,

                        Everything was delivered okay.  It all looks great.  I had them put everything where you wanted it.  Enjoy your new furniture!

                                    -Trevor

            It was lame as hell, but he couldn’t exactly write, “Sorry I punched AJ, I’d love to suck your dick sometime.”  Especially since he was kind of in love with Kevin’s ex-boyfriend.

            He left the note with the floor plan and the keys.

            He was proud of himself for not checking out Kevin’s bedroom or rummaging through Kevin’s drawers.  Kevin was an upstanding guy, and Trevor respected him.

            He still wanted to kick himself for missing the opportunity, though.  It wasn’t like he was going to have many - - any - - more chances in life to be inside Kevin’s house.

            Nick kissed him there again, licking, maybe lapping sweat from his skin.  Nick always stroked him there, right between his shoulder blades, and now that spot was sensitive to Nick’s touch, made hot awareness prickle across his back, like Nick could create erogenous zones.

            “This is your angel spot,” Nick murmured, kissing him there again.  “This is where angel wings grow.”

            Ashley was wet inside from the romance in Nick’s voice.  “I don’t, I don’t have wings,” he said, managing to string together an actual coherent, normal sentence for the first time in hours.

            Nick’s thigh was warm against his as Nick nuzzled the back of his neck.  “Are you sure about that?” Nick murmured, kissing his skin.

            Ashley didn’t know what to think anymore.  He didn’t know how to think anymore.  Nick was making him feel desired, wanted, warm.  The affection in Nick’s voice, the love in Nick’s touch…  This wasn’t right, this wasn’t the way things worked.  Nick was his enemy.  Nick was rude, crude, callous, arrogant.  Nick harassed him and cheated on Joey and was a complete asshole.

            Nick was rubbing his back with firm, massaging strokes, and Ashley’s fully sated body was relaxing into liquid form, when Nick began to roll him over, easing him onto his back, tugging him down a few inches on the bed before Nick leaned in and kissed his neck.  Ashley moaned on the inside, drugged on Nick and sex, feeling undeniable stirrings of arousal even though his body couldn’t possibly take any more.

            While Nick was kissing his neck until his skin tingled, while Nick stroked his abs until his internal organs melted, Ashley wrapped his arms around Nick, wanting to keep Nick close, wanting to capture this feeling until he could understand it.

            Nick raised his head and pinned him with that casually direct gaze, tempering it with a warm, fond smile.  “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

            It felt so, so wrong that Ashley could honestly say, “Yes.”

            And on top of that, why was it that he was face-to-face with two Backstreet Boys on the one day his hair was green?

            He was going to kill Erik.

            “Hi,” he said.  AJ looked different in person.  More real.  He brought this presence with him, this thick sexual energy, a sense of leashed force, of chained passion.  Trevor found it hard to believe that AJ hadn’t totally kicked his ass.

            AJ was walking closer.  Trevor didn’t know whether to throw himself onto AJ’s body and start removing clothes, or back up, so he stayed put.  “Are you going to let me in?” AJ asked, making it a challenge.

            AJ had hit Dan, and Trevor had to remember that.  “What are you here for?”

            “I’m here to see Dan,” AJ said.  It didn’t sound exactly like a threat.  Only mostly like one.

            “I don’t know if he’s home.”  Dan usually had the sense to put his car in the garage, so Trevor couldn’t see it.

            “Then let’s go inside and find out,” AJ said, and walked right past him, heading for the front door.

            Trevor hurried to follow, reaching the door just behind AJ.  “I don’t think this is a good idea.  Maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

            AJ rang the doorbell.  “Don’t hit me and I won’t hit back.”

            “What about Dan?”

            AJ rang the bell again, and made a sound almost like a purr, only lower.  A growl, almost.  AJ was a freak.  Trevor wanted him.

            The door opened.  Of course Dan was standing right there.  “I told you to stay away from Justin, so now you’re going to stalk me?”

            AJ removed his sunglasses so slowly Trevor started to get hard.  AJ’s eyes were incredible.  One slow blink and Trevor’s dick stiffened in response.  “I’m willing to work out an arrangement.”

            “An arrangement,” Dan said.  “Why should I make a deal with you?  What do you have to bargain with?”

            AJ was staring into Dan’s eyes with that leashed intensity.  “Justin’s sanity.”

            Whoa.  Something was seriously fucked up.  AJ, maybe.  That didn’t make Trevor want him any less.

            “You already know that I don’t kid around when it comes to Justin,” Dan said.  “I’m not going to play games with you.”

            AJ snarled.  “I’m not playing,” he said, with harsh emphasis on each word.  He looked like he wanted to grab Dan, maybe throttle him.  One hand met the doorframe with a rough smack.  “Let me in.  I need to talk to you, but I am not doing it in front of him.  This is private, between me and you.”

            Trevor wondered if he should leave, but Dan shook his head.  “You’re not getting inside this house.”

            AJ looked even more pissed off than before.  “I was going to do this the easy way, but we can do it the hard way.  It’s all the same to me.”

            “We’re not doing anything,” Dan said.  Trevor was impressed that Dan was holding his own.  “I want you to leave.”

            “What about what I want?” AJ demanded.  “When do I get what I want?!”

            “You lost all of your rights to get what you want, the first time you hit Justin.”

            AJ’s glare was full of hatred.  “If you don’t give me what I want, I’m going to take it.”

            “I told you, you can’t threaten me,” Dan said.  He reached out a hand and guided Trevor into the house.  Trevor edged past AJ and stepped behind Dan.  From this angle, he could see directly into AJ’s face, and the passion, fury, and pain there startled him.  He suddenly realized how dangerous AJ was.  Maybe Dan should be a little nicer before AJ came after them all with a butcher knife or something.  “I want you to go.”

            “When was the last time you talked to Justin?”

            Dan didn’t flinch or hesitate.  “This morning.”

            AJ showed his teeth.  “Maybe you should call him.”

            Dan looked like he wanted to snarl right back.  “Get away from my house.”

            Heat flared in AJ’s eyes, and then he turned with an almost seductive, powerful twist and walked away.

            Dan closed the door with too much force and marched into the next room, picking up the phone.

            “Hey, Justin.  This is Dan.  I just thought I’d see how you’re doing.”

            “I’m okay,” he said, a little too brightly, suffering audible underneath.  “How about you, how are you doing?”

            “Things are kind of slow around here.  I wondered if you wanted any company.”

            “No, no, I’m okay,” Justin said.  “I have some, um, things to do, so…  Maybe you shouldn’t come over tonight.”

            “Are you sure?” Dan asked.  “You know that I’d be happy to.  It’s no problem.”

            “No, it’s okay,” Justin said.  “It’s okay, I’m okay, I’m,” his voice broke and he choked back a sob.  His pain was so close to the surface, even he couldn’t tell when he’d stopped faking it.

            “Justin,” Dan said.  “I’m coming over, okay?”

            “Don’t be mad at me,” Justin whispered, begging.  “Don’t hate me.”

            “I won’t, I can’t, I never will,” Dan promised.  “I’ll be there soon.”

            Dan was gone.  Justin set down the phone, sat on the sofa, curled up, and tried to hold on, in vain.

            Gripping the wheel a little more tightly, Ashley forced himself to focus.  On driving.  On the road.  On the traffic.  Not on Nick, or the way Nick had kissed him, or the way Nick had - - Jesus!  Ashley jerked the car back into his own lane.

            Why was Nick like that when they were alone?  When they were alone, Nick was considerate.  Affectionate.  Almost tender.

            When Joey was around, Nick was rude, mocking, arrogant.

            The only consistency was Nick’s heat.  The fire between them was constant.  The sex was incredible.  Nick made him want it so badly, made him come so hard, opened up a pit of need inside him that only Nick could begin to fill.

            In front of Joey, Nick was full of crude demands.  “Make me believe you want it,” “Beg me or you won’t get it,” “Tell me who your ass belongs to.”  When they were alone, Nick asked, “Can I get in you?” with need and desire.  When Joey wasn’t around, Nick didn’t overtly prove his power over Ashley.

            Was Nick trying to prove something to Joey?  That he had power over Ashley? That he had sexual prowess?  That Ashley wanted him as much as Ashley wanted Joey?

            Nick wanted to keep Joey as much as Ashley did.

            But Nick wanted him, too.  There was no doubt about that.

            Ashley didn’t know what to do.

            He was in love with Joey.

            If he stopped trying to take Joey from Nick, if he acted like he was okay with their current situation, Joey might realize how much he wanted Nick.  He was in love with Joey, and now that Joey was in love with him, he couldn’t let Joey think that he was falling for Nick, too.  He loved Joey.  He wasn’t going to be disloyal.  In body, maybe, but not in heart.

            He had to keep going.  He had to get Joey to leave Nick.

            Things would work out.  Somehow.

            He rubbed his cheek against the silk of Brian’s hair.

            Brian chuckled softly and rubbed the back of his neck.  Brian’s fingers stroked his nape.  “My sweet, sweet pet.”

            “I love you,” Chris whispered, sliding his hands over Brian’s naked body.  Brian’s skin was smooth.  Brian wasn’t as muscular as Kevin or as young as Trevor but he was a hundred percent perfect and it almost hurt to touch him.

            Brian pushed him back gently, looking into his face.  Chris finally had Brian again, the real Brian, the true Brian, and he stroked Brian’s prominent cheekbones, stroked Brian’s strong jaw.  No more substitutes.  He had the real thing.  No substitutes, no substitutes - - he kissed Brian’s cheek, licking passionately over Brian’s cheekbone, kissing feverishly along Brian’s jaw.  Brian tilted up his chin, redirecting him, and their mouths found each other, and they were kissing, and Chris felt glorious white light shining through himself from the inside out.

            Brian was the most beautiful person Chris had ever known.  Physically beautiful, physical perfection, from the blue of his eyes to the curl in his hair, from his incredible facial structure to his gorgeous dick.  His tattoos were beautiful.  His skin was beautiful.  His navel was beautiful.  He had perfect ankles.

            Brian was beautiful in every other way, too.  Beautiful and perfect and amazing.  There was nothing wrong with Brian, nothing, nothing, and Chris would kill anyone who said otherwise.

            “I love you,” Chris said, panting, needing, the taste of perfection in his mouth from Brian’s kiss.

            “I love you, Chris,” Brian said, and Brian’s touch was gentle.  Brian kept stroking him.  Brian liked to pet things.  Chris was Brian’s pet.  Brian’s favorite pet.  “You broke your promise to me.”

            “I’m sorry,” he said immediately, because he was, because he’d suffer eternal agony for betraying Brian.  He didn’t have to ask what Brian meant.  He’d made a lot of promises to Brian, a lot, but he’d only broken one.

            “You told Kevin what I taught you,” Brian said, his voice a sweet reprimand, his hand stroking Chris’s chest.

            “I’m sorry,” he said, and he hated himself for betraying Brian, hated himself for disappointing Brian, hated himself for being disloyal.  His voice had become agonized with desperation and self-recrimination.  How could he have done that?  How could he have broken a promise to Brian?  How could he have hurt Brian?

            “That can’t happen again,” Brian said.

            “It won’t.”  It wouldn’t.  He’d never break another promise to Brian.  He’d never let anything slip.  He couldn’t betray Brian.  It was already a miracle that he was here with Brian now.

            “You like Kevin,” Brian said.

            “Yes,” Chris said.  He never thought about lying to Brian.  Brian knew him.

            “Do you want him?” Brian asked.  He was stroking Chris’s nipple.  It was making Chris fidgety.

            Chris cupped Brian’s jaw in one hand, stroking it with his thumb.  So beautiful it hurt.  “Only because I can’t have you.  Only because he brings you closer when I can’t have you.”

            “Do you want Lance?” Brian asked.

            The question didn’t hurt.  Nothing hurt anymore, except Brian’s perfection, Brian’s beauty.  “No.”  He kissed the side of Brian’s mouth.

            Brian kissed back, stroking his shoulder in slow, even caresses.  “Do you want Jacob?”

            “A little.”

            Brian’s smile was gentle.  Chris kissed his jaw.  One kiss, two, three.  “Do you think he’s pretty?”

            “I think you want him,” Chris said.  He looked into Brian’s eyes.  “I want him because you do.  I want what you want.  I like what you like.  I want to fuck who you fuck.”

            “It makes you feel closer to me,” Brian said softly, caressing his temple.

            “It makes me feel closer to you,” Chris said, just as softly.

            Brian’s fingers ran back into his hair.  “Do you feel close to me now?”

            Chris was drowning in Brian’s eyes.  “Yes.”

            Brian smiled, just a little, with affection.  “Do you love me?”

            Chris’s chest was tight.  “Yes.”

            Brian’s fingers in his hair tugged him down for a kiss.  “I love you, too,” Brian whispered.

            It turned in his hand.

            He couldn’t just walk into Justin’s house.  Justin knew that he was coming, but it still seemed like an invasion.  He was sleeping here, but this wasn’t his home.  Justin had a right to privacy.

            Justin’s mental stability was shot to hell.  He had a right not to answer the door, but he also might not have been able to get to the door, depending on his current state.

            Dan sent up a quick prayer for forgiveness and opened the door.  “Justin?” he called.  “Justin, it’s Dan.  Are you okay?”  He slipped into the house, closing the door again, locking it.  “Justin?”  He stepped further inside, scanning the rooms, keeping an ear out for any sounds.  “Justin?”

            The ensuing silence was rent by a horrible, wracking sob.  Immediately Dan moved in that direction and found Justin in a room down the hallway, curled up on the floor in front of the sofa, crying in obvious pain.  He sounded young and abandoned and traumatized, and maybe he was young and maybe he had been traumatized, but Dan wasn’t about to let him feel abandoned.

            “Justin,” Dan said, kneeling down right in front of him.  “What happened, what did AJ do to you?”  Cupping Justin’s chin to look into his face, Dan expected to see bruises.  But no, Dan saw only red eyes, a red nose, red cheeks, and a never-ending stream of tears.

            Justin tried to pull back, pushing him away ineffectually.  “Justin, let me help you, talk to me, I want to help,” Dan said with quiet insistence, shifting to wrap an arm around Justin’s back, urging Justin into an embrace.  Justin resisted a second more, then broke, sobbing against his chest and clutching him around the waist.

            Dan tried to get Justin to talk, but Justin was too busy crying to say anything.  He tried to be calm and soothing, but he was so furious with this relapse, with AJ, that he found himself muttering, “Fuck AJ.  How could he do this to you?  How could he hurt you like this?  Fuck him, he’s no good, he’s such a bastard, I should have called the police, I should have kicked his ass.  Fuck AJ, forget about him, he’s worthless, I’ll deal with him, don’t worry about him. I won’t let him hurt you, I won’t let him touch you, I won’t let him anywhere near you.”

            Dan was used to being this close to Justin, since he held Justin in his arms every night as they slept.  He rubbed Justin’s back, murmured encouraging meaningless things, and finally, Justin grew quiet.

            Justin sniffled.

            “Okay?” Dan asked quietly.

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” Justin whispered.  He began to pull away, wiping at his face with both hands, immediately turning away, not meeting Dan’s gaze.  Ashamed.

            “It might help if you talked about it,” Dan said.  He didn’t entirely let Justin go, leaving a hand on Justin’s shoulder.  He didn’t want Justin to feel alone in this.  “You can talk to me about anything.”

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” Justin said, his voice even softer this time, cracking slightly.

            “Did he call you?” Dan asked.  “Did you see him?  Did he come here?”

            Justin flinched, turning further away.

            “Okay,” Dan said, squeezing Justin’s shoulder.  “Okay.  Let me get you some tissues.”  He stood, leaving the room.  He didn’t know what had happened.  That didn’t mean that he couldn’t prevent it from happening again.

            Erik wouldn’t say anything about what was bothering him.  Ashley wouldn’t stop talking about what was bothering him, which seemed to be the same old Joey versus Nick problem, only intensified.  Trevor told them about AJ.

            Erik told Ashley to shut the fuck up about his damned “angel spot” and realize that some people had real problems.  Erik went upstairs and slammed doors.

            Ashley said that people who wouldn’t even tell anyone what was wrong didn’t have the right to bitch about people who did.  He went upstairs, too.

            Trevor hadn’t even gotten to tell them about Kevin and being entrusted with keys to Kevin’s house.  And it wasn’t like he could tell Chris about it.  Pissed that he had no one to talk to besides self-absorbed idiots and closed doors, he called Chris.

            Chris didn’t answer.

            Trevor went upstairs and closed his door with reasonable quietness.  He wanted to jack off to Chris, but he also was tempted to jack off to Kevin, so he let his brain decide.

            His brain came up with fantasy images of Kevin and Chris, naked, together, fucking.

            Not bad.

            Brian was still talking.  It sounded like Lance had been giving Jacob head, and Jacob had been giving Lance head, and the way Brian was stroking Chris’s hair made it seem like Brian liked what he was hearing.  His voice shifted through a hundred emotions, all meant to suggest just the right things to Lance’s ears.  Chris licked his navel and he flirted and schemed with Chris’s best friend over the phone.

            Chris was in Brian’s bed tonight.  Lance wasn’t.  Chris had the taste of Brian on his tongue.  Lance didn’t.  Lance had the taste of Jacob on his tongue, actually.

            Chris smothered his laughter by burying his face against Brian’s stomach.

            He’d spat it out, the first time.  Then Lance had stroked his chin, rubbing a thumb over his lips, and said, with that fucking smile, “You’d better learn to swallow if you want to keep Brian happy.”

            It had taken everything he had not to rise up and snap that motherfucker’s neck.

            But he still needed to use Lance for a few more things.  He wasn’t going to risk anything happening to his friendship with Brian.  He had to have everything down perfectly.  What to do, what to say, how to approach.  How to touch.  How to…everything else.

            He needed Lance for that.

            When he’d used Lance and gotten everything from Lance that he needed, then he could snap the motherfucker’s neck.

            Kevin hated him.  Kevin never wanted to see him again.  Kevin wasn’t ever going to speak to him again.

            He couldn’t stop needing, couldn’t stop loving, couldn’t stop crying.  He couldn’t remember coming up the stairs, but he did remember climbing weakly into bed, and Dan was there with him, holding him tightly and whispering quiet, soothing things that he didn’t believe.

            “Do you know any poetry?” Justin asked between sobs.

            “Poetry?” Dan asked.

            “Love poetry,” Justin said.  His voice was in tatters.  Probably still more solid than his mind.

            “Love poetry?” Dan asked.  “Only what I had to memorize in high school.”

            He’d only recognized half of what Kevin said.  He wasn’t even sure how or why the hell Kevin knew it all.  It wasn’t like people with their jobs were expected to recite poems.  But Kevin had whispered sweet, loving, wonderful words into his stomach, breathed them against his neck, licked them between his lips.

            “How the hell does that go?” Dan muttered, embrace tightening.  “How do I love thee, let me count the ways.”

            “Count the…ways,” Justin repeated over a hiccupping sob.

            “I love thee to the depth and breadth and height…”

            “Height,” Justin agreed, closing his eyes, wishing Dan’s voice were just a little lower.

            “My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight…  Out of sight…  For the ends of Being and…ideal Grace.  Grace, what the hell rhymes with Grace…”

            “I love thee” in poetry didn’t count as “I love you” for real.  Justin knew that.  He told himself that he knew that.  Kevin had never said “I love you” and never would and that was okay.  That was okay.  That was okay.

            “I love thee to the level of everyday’s…  Something.  Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.  I love thee…  I love thee freely, as men might strive for Right…”

            His soul had soaked the words up, though, caught them all and kept them all, every last “I love thee,” every last word of love and affection and romance and desire.  They weren’t real, they were someone else’s words and Kevin didn’t mean them, but they sounded real.  They’d felt real, ghosting over his naked flesh while Kevin paused between lines to kiss his hip.

            “I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.  I love thee with the passion put to use…  Shit.  Turn from Praise, put to use…  In my old griefs, and with my childhood’s faith.  I love thee with a love I seemed to lose…  When…  With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath…”

            It had been confusing.  Confusing, to feel loved one minute and experience Kevin’s utter hatred the next.  Confusing, to be kissed and caressed and adored and treasured one minute, and then chained and whipped the next.  To be teased and opened with Kevin’s tongue, with loving fingers, and then fucked by…things…that he didn’t want.  To be hated and abused and used and trashed and insulted and humiliated by someone he loved with every, every, every breath.

            “Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose…”

            Justin closed his eyes, and said, softly, “I shall but love thee better after death.”

            When the phone rang, Brian kissed his cheek.  “Will you hand that to me?”

            Chris reached for the phone, giving it to Brian without looking at the caller ID.  It was none of his business who Brian talked to.

            “Hello?”  Brian coaxed him down with some encouraging petting.  Chris burrowed into Brian’s embrace, burying his face in Brian’s neck, closing his eyes.  “Of course, I couldn’t go to sleep without talking to you.”  Chris nuzzled Brian’s neck.  Brian rubbed his hair.  “I was just thinking about you.”  Brian turned his head to one side and Chris licked his neck, kissing up under Brian’s jaw.  “No, that’s okay, that’s fine, I understand.  I missed you today, though.”  Chris kissed up Brian’s sideburn.  Licked softly, gently, tiny little licks, all across Brian’s cheekbone.  Brian scratched him behind the ear and he kissed Brian’s cheek.  “I would love to see you tomorrow.”  Chris kissed at the corner of Brian’s mouth. Brian licked him and met his eyes, mouthing, “I love you.”  Chris smiled, and Brian kissed him, licking at him, nibbling lightly, breaking off to say, “That sounds great.  Let’s meet for breakfast first and catch up.”  He laughed, then, and Chris kissed his ear.  Brian kept talking and Chris sucked softly on his earlobe, kissed his shoulder, licked the ink on his arm.

            Brian said, “I love you,” to Jacob, and hung up, pulling Chris into a warm embrace.

            Chris breathed Brian in.

            “No one can know that we’re together,” Brian said.  “No one.”

            “I know,” Chris said.

            “I want to see you again,” Brian said, nuzzling his cheek, kissing his mouth.  “I love you, pet, I miss you.  If I call you again sometime soon, can you come to see me?  Without anybody knowing?  Without interrupting your other plans?”

            “Yes,” Chris promised.  “I’ll find free time, I’ll make free time, I’ll make sure no one knows.”  Brian wanted to see him again.  Brian was in love with him.

            Brian gazed into his eyes, touching his cheek.  “Stay here with me tonight,” Brian said softly.  “I want to sleep with you.  I want to wake up with you.”

Today had been perfect.  Ideal.  Fantasy as reality.  Ever since he’d received Brian’s phone call he’d been floating in fantasy, drifting through dreams, knowing that none of it was actually happening to him, secure in the conviction that he was tucked at home in his miserable bed, cold and alone and hallucinating in Techni-Color.

Chris knew that reality was fragile, he knew that he couldn’t trust anything that Brian said, he knew that this couldn’t be true.  Couldn’t be.  But it had to be.  Brian was in love with him and Brian wanted to be with him and Brian had made love with him and he was here in Brian’s bed, with Brian, because Brian wanted him there.  Brian’s love was pure, and Brian’s love was beautiful.  His affection was genuine, and his heart was sincere.  Except that all of it, all of it, every last wonderful, inspiring, moving bit of it, was a lie.

Chris knew that Brian lied.  Chris knew it better than anyone else possibly could.  Chris knew that reality was as fluid as water in Brian’s hands.  Brian was a chameleon.  Whatever Brian said was a lie.

But Brian was real.  Brian was right there beside him.  Touching him.  Looking at him.  Warm against his body.  He could feel Brian breathing.  He was touching Brian right at that moment, and Brian was right there to be touched.

            Was that a lie, too?

            Was this a fantasy?

            Brian’s words weren’t real.  Brian’s touches weren’t real.  Brian wasn’t real.

            Chris’s heart was pounding.  He was in love with Brian, and Brian was a lie.  He was in love with Brian, and Brian’s “I love yous” were lies.  He was in love with Brian, and Brian wasn’t real at all.

            This was too good.  Today, tonight, the moment.  Too good.  This couldn’t be real, and this couldn’t be happening.  Chris had suffered too much for too long to trust in this now.

            If he blinked, Brian would be gone.

            It had happened before.

            “Chris?”  Brian’s voice was quiet with concern.

            But Brian was real.  Brian was there.  Solid under his fingertips.

            It wasn’t all fantasy.

            It wasn’t all a lie.

            Some of it was real.

            Maybe some of the emotion was real.  Maybe some of that feeling was genuine.  Maybe Brian did care.  A little.  Inside.  Somehow.

            Brian needed him.  Brian had asked for him.  Brian’s love might not be one hundred percent fabricated.

            He was here, wasn’t he?  And Brian was here.  And they’d made love.  And they’d spoken love.

            Chris hadn’t felt this much pure, frightening, hope in a long time.  He’d thought, sometimes, that Brian had killed it all.  But some of Chris’s hope must have survived.  Maybe, somehow, some of Brian’s love had, too.

            They were together.

            Chris rested his forehead against Brian’s temple and just breathed.

            Brian’s hand rubbed over the back of his head.  “I know, my pet,” Brian whispered.  “Being together with you was all I ever wanted, too.”

Continue on to part twenty-five

matthew@matthewtime.com
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