Sucker

Copyright November 24, 2002-April 8, 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-five...

            He’d fucked himself over.  He’d totally fucked himself over.  The guys hated him now.  What if they kicked him out of the house?  What if they kicked him out of the band?  They couldn’t, could they?

            God, what had he done, what had he done, he was screwed, he was one hundred percent screwed.

            He could take it back.  He could say that he’d been upset, that he’d been lying.  The girls would back him up, they’d tell the guys he’d been lying.  Laura had hated him, Gena had been terrific and never would have cheated on Dan for anybody, Clara had been a virgin before she’d been with Jacob.

            JC opened the door.  “Erik-Michael, honey, come on in.  Howie’s on his way over.  Tell me what happened.”

            “I did exactly what you wanted,” Erik said, walking into the house, torn between his own anger and agitation, and wanting to molest JC.  He hadn’t been able to get JC and Howie out of his mind.  He had so many desires, so many fantasies, so many urges…  “Are you healed yet?” he asked.  “The piercing?  Is Howie fucking you?”

            “Almost,” JC said.  “It’ll be soon.  You lied to them?”

            Erik sat on the sofa, rubbing his hands over his thighs.  “I told them I’d fucked their girlfriends.  They’re such assholes, they keep blaming me for things I haven’t done, Trevor has everybody convinced I’m - - I just couldn’t take it, I was so pissed off, I figured that as long as they’re going to hate me anyway I might as well get something out of it.”

            JC was crouching down in front of him, eyes compassionate.  “I didn’t know that things were getting bad.”

            “I told them that I’d fucked their girlfriends, Ashley’s and Dan’s and Jacob’s, and they told me to fuck off and get out.  I don’t know what’s going to happen now, I don’t know if they’ll even let me back in the house tonight.”

            “You can stay here,” JC promised, and embraced him, rubbing his back.  “You can stay with us, honey.”

            Erik held onto JC, his arms winding around JC’s slender waist, his eyes closing.  They had to give him this, they had to hold up their end of the bargain.  “I’ve missed you so much, you have no idea.  There’s nobody else like you in the world, JC.”

            “I’ve missed you, baby,” JC said, stroking his hair.  “I’ve missed your skin, and your eyes, and your mouth.  I love the way you kiss me, honey.”  JC was easing back from their embrace, his fingers skimming Erik’s lips, and Erik leaned in to kiss him.  JC stopped him an inch from his goal, gazing into his eyes with desire.  “I’ve been aching for your touch.  Howie and I miss having you in our bed.  You brought us so much, Erik-Michael, so much of your heat…”

            Erik couldn’t take it, and he didn’t care if they were supposed to wait.  He kissed JC, tangling his tongue against JC’s, tangling his fingers in JC’s hair.  He kissed JC until JC made a startled sound followed by an appreciative moan and started stroking his arms.  Pulling back, panting for air, Erik said, “If I can’t fuck you tonight, JC, I’m going to go out of my mind.”

            “Not tonight,” JC said, looking somewhat dazed.  “It’s too early, it’s too soon.”

            “I have to fuck somebody,” Erik insisted.  “When’s Howie getting here?”

            “Any minute,” JC said, “any,” and JC was kissing him again, pushing him back and climbing on top of him.  Erik pulled JC down into his lap, urging JC against his dick.  JC was moaning and Erik was twisting and JC was back against the armrest and Erik was getting on top and they were groaning, grunting, grinding, coming.  JC was still sexy, still hot, still shaved, still tattooed, still pierced.

            Erik stretched out over JC, burying his face in the curve of JC’s neck, the sound of JC’s pleasure still in his ears, his own body still twitching from orgasm.  He’d tried to forget, he’d tried to deny, but his experiences had stayed with him.  He was drawn to JC and Howie; he couldn’t shake his attraction to them.  Seeing them in public, bumping into them, JC coming to the shoot - - being on TRL with JC, he’d almost jumped JC in front of a live audience.  JC was unbelievably sexy, incredibly hot, and Erik couldn’t lose the memories of exploring JC’s body, of learning JC with his hands, of watching JC and kissing JC and fucking JC.  Images of JC and Howie twined around each other in ecstasy would be with him forever.

            “We’ve been talking about you,” JC said, fingers sliding up the arch of his spine.  “About how much we want you.  I’ve been begging for you.”

            Begging?  Erik grinned, lifting his head to meet JC’s eyes.  “Really?”

            JC laughed, kissing him.  “Really,” JC promised, and their mouths met again.  Their kiss became slow, simmering, as Erik’s hand cupped the side of JC’s face and JC’s thigh rubbed suggestively between Erik’s.

            “Excuse me.  Am I interrupting something?”

            Stricken, Erik looked up quickly to see Howie standing in the archway, suspicious and gorgeous and not amused.

            “Howie,” JC said, startled and breathless.  “I’m sorry, baby, I should have waited for you.”

            “What have I…”  Howie’s gaze traveled the length of their bodies, and Erik blushed.  Being discovered sprawled naked over Howie’s lover probably wasn’t the best way to get back into Howie’s good graces.  “Missed?” Howie asked, looking at JC.  He didn’t seem angry, exactly, but he wasn’t happy, either.

            “Get up,” JC whispered to Erik, kissing his cheek.

            “Yeah,” Erik said, pushing himself up, reaching for his clothes.  He dressed quickly, JC slipping back into clothes beside him.  “Hi,” he said to Howie, not sure what else to say.  “You look great.”

            “Erik-Michael and the other guys haven’t been getting along,” JC said.

            “Trevor’s an asshole, and he has everybody else blaming me for shit I haven’t done,” Erik said.  “I got fed up with it, and I…”  He wished that Howie’s face would show some sort of emotion.  “I told Ashley and Dan and Jacob that I fucked their girlfriends.  I had places and details.  They got really pissed off, I don’t think I can go back there tonight.”

            “I told Erik-Michael that he could stay here,” JC said.

            Suddenly Erik had all of Howie’s attention.  Howie stepped forward, cupping Erik’s chin, stroking his jaw.  Erik hadn’t felt Howie’s touch in too long, and his skin flushed with heat.  “I put JC above everyone else,” Howie said.  Howie’s eyes were dark, his gaze gripping.  “JC knows that he’s more important to me than anyone else is.  I know that it goes both ways.”

            Erik swallowed.  “Yeah,” he said, because Howie seemed to want him to say something, but he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say.

            “Erik-Michael did what we asked him to do,” JC said.

            “I did,” Erik said agreed quickly.

            “You aren’t going to,” Howie’s gaze hardened, “tell anyone?”

            “No one’s going to know anything,” Erik said.  “I promise.”

            “Come on, Howie, please?” JC asked, wrapping his arms around Erik from behind and resting cheek to cheek.  “He did what we wanted.”

            Erik tried to smile winningly.

            Howie tapped his fingers against Erik’s jaw, looking tempted.

            “Come on,” JC said, his voice coaxing, sultry.  “You know you want to.”

            Howie’s smile was private, his thumb stroking Erik’s cheek.  Erik was trying not to get nervous.  Howie had to give in.  He had to.  Erik had lied for him.  Erik had learned to suck dick for him.  Howie had to say yes.

            “Do you want us to let you back in?” Howie asked, the backs of Howie’s fingers stroking up the front of his neck.

            “Yes,” Erik said.  JC kissed behind his earlobe and he shivered, trying to remain focused on Howie.

            Howie’s gaze considered him.  “I want you,” Howie said quietly, touching his mouth.  “I want you, Erik-Michael, and you know that.  I have to be able to trust you.”

            “You can,” Erik promised, putting emphasis on the words.

            Howie’s fingers were caressing the fuzz on his chin.  “Are you going to put us first?”

            “Yes,” Erik said.  Where had putting the guys first gotten him?  Had they ever put him first?  Howie and JC treated him better.  Appreciated him more.

            Howie smiled, and kissed him.

            Outraged and confused, Ashley sat on the oversized sofa in Nick’s movie room and told him everything.  What Estrada had said, why it couldn’t be true, why it might be true, what Laura had said when Ashley had called and asked her about it.

            Nick couldn’t believe that Estrada had gone ahead and done it.  Anybody who’d fuck over his band like that and betray his friends deserved to be hated.

            He knew Ashley, though.  Ashley was going to try to understand, and Ashley was going to try to forgive.  Eventually, everything would be right back to normal.

            Knowing that, Nick lazily stroked Ashley’s chest through his shirt and told him that friends came first, that there was a reason that Erik was Ashley’s best friend and Laura was long gone.  Erik had given in to his dick, yeah, but guys did that.  Nick soothed Ashley’s anger and comforted his hurt feelings and eased his confusion.

            By the time Nick was finished, Ashley was much calmer and willing to talk to Erik about it.  Nick wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, telling him that he was a good friend.  Kissing Ashley’s cheek turned into kissing Ashley’s ear, and kissing Ashley’s ear turned into licking it and whispering things into it, things about how good he was and how sweet he was and how beautiful he was.  The hand caressing Ashley’s neck slid down, settling low on his stomach, and Nick kissed the red and pink burning across Ashley’s cheeks.  “You shouldn’t be alone tonight,” Nick said, hand traveling a few inches farther south.

            Ashley made a hungry, aching sound.  “Why not?” he asked, panting softly.

            Nick smiled, kissing him.  “Because I want you here with me.”

            Joey was thinking about calling Nick when his phone rang.  Muting the TV, he picked up the phone.  “You got Joey.”

            “I want to see you,” AJ said.  He hissed, and Joey’s dick jerked to attention.  “Right now.”

            Jacob followed Brian into the house.  “Thanks for letting me sleep here while they’re taking care of the mice.”  He hadn’t intended to bring a suitcase, but Brian had insisted that he pack a few things.

            “What are friends for?” Brian asked.  “Come on back, I’ll clear you some space for your socks.”

            “You don’t have to do that,” Jacob said, following Brian to the bedroom.

            “I have plenty of room,” Brian said, flicking on the light in the closet.  “Here.”  Brian shuffled a few piles of T-shirts and kicked aside some shoeboxes.  “There you go, just for you.”

            “Thanks,” Jacob said, setting down his suitcase.

            “Jacob.”  Jacob found himself looking into patient blue eyes, Brian’s hands on his shoulders.  “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I know you’re upset, and I don’t like it.”

            “It’s not that great for me, either,” Jacob said, muttering it, rubbing at his face with one hand.  “God, I’m going to kill Erik.”

            “Erik?” Brian asked, concerned, confused.  “What happened?”  Brian’s hands dropped, one circling his wrist.

            Jacob sighed, leaning back against a shelf.  “I told you about Clara, right?  She was-”

            “Your girlfriend,” Brian said.  “That cute little redhead.”

            “Yeah,” Jacob said.  He looked down at Brian’s hand around his wrist, then across the closet at a neat row of shirts.  “Erik said that he had sex with her.”  The pain and anger made his voice tight, and he shook his head, trying to deny it.  “It’s not just her, he said that he had sex with one of Ashley’s girlfriends and one of Dan’s, too.  He started talking and I swear to God I wanted to kill him.  I almost lost it.”  He closed his eyes tightly, feeling his hands curl into fists.  The idea of it, the thought of it…  He couldn’t think of it without hating her, without wanting to murder Erik.

            How could he?

            How could she?

            All of those times he’d been with her, talked with her, trusted her.

            He and Erik did everything together, everything, shared it all, every possible experience, all of it.  And all of that time…

            When Jacob opened his eyes again, Brian’s eyes were soft with compassion.  “I’m sorry,” Brian said softly.  “I’m so sorry.”  Brian rubbed his forearm.  “I don’t want to say that this is something he’d make up, but are you sure that it’s true?  I know that Erik’s not perfect, but you’re so close…  I would never do that to one of the fellas, and I know that they’d never do it to me.  That’s not how the group bond works, and Erik has to understand that.”

            “I understand that,” Jacob snapped.  “All Erik ever thinks about is himself and what he wants and how he can get through life in a way that’s easiest for him.  He had sex with my girlfriend!  He fucked Clara!  She - - God!  Fuck!”  Jacob pulled away, turning aside, needing to put his hands on something, throttle someone, beat something.

            “Did you ask her about it?” Brian asked his back.

            “Her number doesn’t work anymore,” Jacob said.  “Her e-mail doesn’t either.  I’m trying to track her down through friends, but…  Fuck!  Fuck!  How the hell could he do this?!”

            “Why did he tell you now?” Brian asked.

            “I don’t know!”  None of it made any fucking sense.  “You should have heard the things he was saying.  How much she wanted it.  She was so fucking sweet, Brian, she was so shy…  Why would she let him touch her?”

            “Sometimes people aren’t everything that they seem to be,” Brian said.  “And sex, you know how sex can change anything, any situation, any person.  Adding sex to the mix complicates things.”

            “Yeah.”  Yeah, Jacob knew all about that.  He was letting Lance Bass fuck him so he could get closer to Brian; he knew all about sex complicating things.

            “I’m sorry,” Brian said.  “I wish that I could fix this for you.”

            “I know,” Jacob said, wrapping his arms around himself.

            “He can’t have meant to hurt you,” Brian said.  “If he’d done it to hurt you, he would have told you about it when he did it.”

            Jacob’s voice was bitter to his own ears.  “He sure as hell wanted to hurt me today.”

            “You want to hurt him back,” Brian said quietly.  “You hate him, and you want to make him suffer for it.  But you’re not giving in to that impulse, because you’re a good man, Jacob.”

            “If I see him, I’m going to strangle him,” Jacob said.

            “No, you’re not.”  Brian’s hands turned him, pulling him around until they were face-to-face.  “You’re a good man, Jacob.  You’re forgiving.”

            “I can’t forgive him for this!”  Jacob couldn’t believe that Brian would even ask him for that.

            “Not tonight,” Brian said.  “Not tonight, but in time.  You love him, don’t you?”

            “He fucking-”

            “I know,” Brian said.  “Let’s go do something.”

            “I don’t want to-”

            “Something physical,” Brian said.  “Something to get the aggression out.  One-on-one, maybe some basketball, racquetball, I don’t know.”

            “It’s late,” Jacob muttered, refusing to be humored.

            “You can’t beat up Erik, but you have to get the anger out,” Brian said.  “Come on.”

            Joey didn’t know what had gotten into AJ.  Aggression was one thing, but he hadn’t seen AJ like this in a long time.  AJ wanted it, AJ was fighting for it, AJ was going to get off if it killed them both - - and it looked like it might.  Not only had Joey been bitten and clawed, but he knew he’d be limping out of there bruised; and the things that AJ was saying, Joey was surprised that the walls were still standing.  Joey hadn’t seen AJ need to get off this badly since before things had gone bad, and it brought back vivid, red-hot memories.

            He didn’t know what had set AJ off; he was just trying to keep up.

            He knew that every inch of him would be sore the next day, inside and out.  But it was more than worth it.

            When Chris opened the door, Trevor stormed into his house, ranting about Erik in a mostly coherent rage.  Chris let him vent, then listened to him vent some more, then rubbed his scalp while he sulked.

            Chris asked him if he wanted to mess around.

            He said okay.

            So they went to bed, and messed around.

            When they were sweaty and kind of sticky and falling asleep, Chris elbowed Trevor a little and said, “You know you’re just pissed off that he didn’t go after any of your girlfriends.”

            There was a moment of silence.  “You’re an asshole,” Trevor said.

Chris pinched him.

“I’m an asshole,” Trevor admitted.

            “If it makes you feel any better, I think he wants me.”

            “No, he doesn’t,” Trevor said.

            “No,” Chris said, “he doesn’t.”  Chris was quiet for a minute.  “Maybe you just have crappy taste.”

            “Yeah,” Trevor said.  “Maybe.”  His embrace tightened.  “I’m keeping you anyway, though.”

            “Okay,” Chris said.  “That’s nice.”

            After Lance left, Justin called Kevin and hung out not doing much of anything.  As time passed, he was tempted to call Dan, but he didn’t want to be ultra-needy, so he stifled the urge.

            He got ready for bed, but he couldn’t actually go to bed by himself, so he wandered around downstairs for a while, finally sitting down and pretending to watch TV.

            He wondered where Dan was.

            He wondered if he could get any more pathetic.

            He wondered if that even mattered anymore.

            He called Kevin.

            He thought about calling AJ.

            He called Lance.

            When Lance started yawning and slurring words, he told Lance to go to bed and got off of the phone.

            Justin didn’t like being alone at night anymore.  The voices in his head started to get louder.

            He turned up the volume on the TV.

            When the doorbell rang, Justin jumped up, simultaneously startled and relieved.  He turned off the TV, hurrying to the front door.  “Hey,” he said, letting Dan into the house.

            “Hey,” Dan said, giving him a tired flash of a warm smile.  “I hope I didn’t drag you out of bed.”

            “No, I was up,” Justin said, locking the door again.  “You okay?”

            “Yeah,” Dan said, leaning back against the door.  “How about you, are you okay?”

            “Yeah,” Justin said.  He couldn’t remember seeing Dan looking worn before.  If Dan didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to push, but he’d spent so much time burdening Dan with all of his drama, it only made sense for him to help Dan once in a while.  “Rough day?”

            “Rough,” Dan agreed.  “You mind if I go up to sleep?”

            “Hey, it’s your bed,” Justin said.  “Kind of.”

            Dan gave him another brief but real smile, and headed upstairs.  Justin went with him, taking a seat on the bed while Dan went into the bathroom.

            Dan came out and sighed, starting to undress.  “There are mice in our house.  The upstairs bathroom flooded.  Erik says he slept with my girlfriend, with Jacob’s girlfriend, and with Ashley’s girlfriend.  I don’t know if he’s telling the truth, and I don’t know if that even makes a difference.”  Stripped to his underwear, Dan sat heavily on the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and running his hands over his hair.  “The house is a mess, our friendships are a mess, I walked in and Trevor and Erik were fighting and I didn’t even bother to stop them.  I’m tired of the fighting.  I’m tired of the pettiness and the jealousy and the secrets and the lies.  I don’t care who’s sleeping with who and who isn’t supposed to know about it.  When we were out there promoting, things were getting good again, but now we’re back home and everything’s falling apart faster than ever.”

            Justin looked at Dan’s back and didn’t know what to say.  There were so many things that he could say.  He could help.  He could tell Dan the truth.  He could explain what was really happening and give Dan some of the tools that could make things right.

            Justin couldn’t save himself, but he could save Dan.

            Dan wanted to protect him.  If he were a good friend or a good person or a halfway decent human being, he’d help Dan.

            He wasn’t a halfway decent human being.  He wasn’t a human being at all.  He was worthless trash.  He couldn’t help anyone.  He couldn’t lift a finger to help himself; how did he expect to be able to save someone else?

            Justin’s gaze traveled Dan’s back.  Long back, pale skin.  Bared nape, black hair.  He wanted to touch.  It could have been Kevin.

            He’d do anything to help Kevin.

            A new stab of self-hatred sliced through Justin’s gut.  He liked Dan.  And he wasn’t going to do anything about it, because he was a weak coward who was afraid of his own shadow.  Disgusted with himself, Justin didn’t know what to say.

            “I don’t know why he’d lie,” Dan said.  He shook his bowed head.  “I don’t even know if it is a lie.  Maybe it’s true.  Maybe he slept with her.”

            “Which girlfriend?” Justin asked.

            “Gena,” Dan said.  “She was smart, she was funny, she had a terrific body.  She was way too good for me.  She didn’t like how busy I was.  She wanted to spend more time with me, but I couldn’t make time for her.  That wasn’t going to change, so she dumped me.  I wasn’t mad at her, I understood that she needed things I couldn’t give her.”

            “There are two ways to look at it,” Justin said.

            “Yeah?” Dan asked.

            “Either she really was that terrific, which means she wouldn’t have done it and he’s lying.”

            “Or?” Dan asked, like he didn’t want to hear it.

            “Everybody cheats,” Justin said quietly.

            “Not Gena,” Dan said.  “She had class.”

            Justin didn’t want to argue, because he liked that Dan believed that people were good and trustworthy.  He didn’t want to be the person trying to convince Dan that his girlfriend had fucked his best friend behind his back.

            Justin’s gaze caught on something.  There was a bruise, a small dark spot, on Dan’s neck.  On the side, towards the back.  Justin wondered how Dan how gotten a bruise there, of all places.  He touched it; Dan didn’t react.  “What’d you do?  You have a bruise.”

            “Fuck.”  Dan said it quietly and with an odd lack of emotion.  Sighing, he reached over his shoulder for Justin’s hand, squeezing it, one two.  “I’m going to go to bed and count on making tomorrow a better day.”

            Justin squeezed back, three four.  “Anything I can do to help?”

            “Yeah,” Dan said, getting up and walking around to his side of the bed.  “You want to work out with me tomorrow?”

            It was a simple enough request.  “Sure,” Justin said.

            “Do you want to use your equipment here, or do you have a gym you go to?  Or do you have your own personal trainer?” Dan asked with a hint of humor in his voice.

            Justin liked that even worn down, Dan could still tease him.  “I have enough stuff here to give us a good start,” he said.  “I tried to pick up a trainer once or twice, but I didn’t like it.”  To put it lightly, he hadn’t enjoyed the close attention, the scrutiny of his body.

            Getting comfortable under the covers, Dan scratched his shoulder.  “Maybe if I spend enough time with you, I’ll be the guy in the group with the best body.”

            “Who is right now?” Justin asked, shedding his underwear and getting in beside Dan.

            Dan looked at him, the tilt of Dan’s eyebrows suggesting that Justin wasn’t serious.

            “Ashley,” Justin said.  “Forget I asked.”  He turned, rolling onto his side and shifting back against Dan.  Dan’s arms wrapped around him, holding him securely.  Needing to be close, Justin tried to press back against Dan as tightly as he could without rubbing his ass into Dan’s groin.  “I’m sorry.  About Gena.  And everything else.”

            “Thanks,” Dan said quietly.

            Dan was hurting, and Justin couldn’t make himself help.  “I want you to have the life that you deserve.”  That didn’t say what Justin wanted to express, but he didn’t know which words to use.

            “That’s all I want for you,” Dan said.

            Justin didn’t like that Dan felt burdened.  He hated himself for taking advantage of Dan’s protective nature, and he hated the rest of O-Town for being shitty friends.

            “Justin…”  It sounded like Dan wanted to say something, so Justin waited.  And waited.  And waited.  And gave up.  Finally, though, Dan spoke.  “What’s your favorite color?”

            “Baby blue,” Justin said automatically, then frowned.  “Can I ask why that matters right now?”

            Dan’s embrace tightened just so.  Not threateningly.  Protectively.  Securely.  “What’s your favorite color?” Dan asked again.

            Justin inhaled carefully.  Dan knew him better than he’d realized.  He didn’t know how he felt about that.  He didn’t know if he liked that.  That wasn’t safe.  He couldn’t let anyone get too close.

            “It’s okay,” Dan said.

            Justin cautiously untensed.

            Dan didn’t push for an answer.

            Feeling both oddly rattled and oddly safe, Justin fell asleep.

            Jacob had resisted going to the gym.  Once there, he’d become a force of nature, attacking the ball with vicious aggression.  Even drenched with sweat and pushed to the limit, he’d kept going, pounding and pounding and pounding.  Finally, he’d worked out all of the anger he could, and dropped to the floor of the court, exhausted.

            Physically drained, Jacob was so vulnerable he was close to helpless.  Brian sat beside him right there, stroking sweat-soaked ringlets back from his forehead, and coaxed him into talking until he was as depleted emotionally as he was physically.

            Three separate times, crystal tears filled bitter, wounded eyes, but Jacob was too proud to let them fall.  Brian was touched by his pain and by his pride.

            Jacob’s cutting, cynical exterior was the shield for an insecure heart, and Brian found the contrast between his dominance and his vulnerability thrilling.  The urge to exploit Jacob’s need for acceptance grew so strongly within Brian that it was a struggle not to give in to it then and there.

            But Brian was in this for the long haul.  He couldn’t allow himself to be distracted from the larger goal.

            When they showered and changed in the locker room, Brian didn’t look.  He wanted to discover the intimate secrets of Jacob’s body for himself, later, when it was time.  He was going to treasure that exploration; getting a good look early would spoil the fun.

            He took Jacob back to his house and back to his bed.  Jacob fell asleep immediately.

            Brian ran careful fingertips over the rise of Jacob’s cheek.  Jacob was worn out, defenseless, so emotionally open Brian had seen the depths of his soul right there in his eyes.  “My love,” Brian whispered.  His touch skimmed Jacob’s temple.  “My love.”

            AJ rose from the bed with a slow stretch.  He’d barely slept, but he didn’t want to sleep.  He was filled with a certain energy that came from having used his body and exorcised his need.  He’d fucked and rutted until his body was sated, and now he was refreshed, revitalized.

            Joey was asleep in his bed, slumped among the pillows.  AJ left him there, walking naked into the bathroom to fill the tub.

            While the water ran, AJ smiled at himself in the mirror.

            Despite himself, he’d been impressed by Dan’s confidence all along.  Dan was one of those rare people who never backed down, never quit, never gave in.  Dan wasn’t confrontational the way AJ normally thought of it; Dan was confident, assertive, sure of himself.  Dan knew himself, knew his own limits, knew his own strengths and weaknesses.  He stood up for himself.  He was loyal and honorable and a thoroughly decent human being.

            AJ had been watching.  Dan always made eye contact and kept it.  He tended to hold his chin up, a sure sign of confidence.  Dan wasn’t afraid of anything.  Not because he was foolishly stupid, but because he had yet to confront anything that could beat him.

            All of the observation and research and interrogation in the world couldn’t have prepared AJ for the way that Dan had responded to one simple kiss.

            One simple kiss.

            The other guys had ways of pretending to be more turned on by something than they really were.  They’d trained themselves to exaggerate their own physical responses by thinking of the most erotic experiences they’d ever had or fantasized about.  Personally, AJ didn’t bother.  If he wasn’t aroused, he wasn’t aroused, and he wasn’t going to fake it.  When AJ’s dick was hard, it was exactly that hard because he was legitimately exactly that turned on.

            Outside of a certain set of experiences that defied all categorization, AJ had never - - not with Lisa the contortionist, not with Joey, not with the buxom lesbian triplets - -  been as hard, as fast, as he had with Dan.  It had been like striking a match by a powder keg.  Everything had exploded, right there, between them.

            He hadn’t expected it.  He never could have guessed.  He’d expected a defiant sort of pride.  He’d expected that Dan would play the martyr’s role, the sacrificial lamb, and that they could build from there.  He hadn’t been prepared for Dan to raise the stakes.

            AJ had been so hard, so ready to fuck, that he’d wanted to grab Dan back and force the issue.  But he’d known better, and he’d kept himself at bay until he’d summoned Joey.

            He couldn’t wait to see Dan again.

            Finally, things were getting interesting.

            “…you thought it was going to be?”

            “It was more.  It was so much more.  I wanted it so much, D., I almost let him fuck me.  It was close, I stopped myself just in time.”

            “Then our time in L.A. was good for us.”

            “It changed everything.”

Erik heard the sound of kissing and opened his eyes.  Howie and JC were standing by the bed in a half-naked embrace, sucking each other’s tongues and feeling each other up.  He blinked, unable to believe that it was back.  He was back.  This part of his life was back.  With a vengeance.

            Last night, they’d rocked his world.  Erik had been groped and seduced and manhandled and teased and fondled and jacked and blown.  He’d been so overwhelmed that he’d forgotten how to form words and had been reduced to moaning and grunting all night.

            “I can’t wait any longer,” JC said.  “Howie, it’s killing me.”

            “I know,” Howie said, kissing him again.  Erik got hot watching their mouths meet.  “You should see the doctor today.  If he says it’s all right, then we’ll…”  Howie caught Erik watching, and smiled.  “Good morning.”

            JC turned his head and saw Erik.  A smile crept over JC’s face; JC’s gaze slid over his body, slowly drifting southward.  When JC said, “Good morning, Erik-Michael,” Erik’s body responded to the sex in his voice.

Keeping an arm around Howie’s waist, JC leaned down to give Erik a kiss.  Erik kissed back, then grinned.  “If this is a dream, don’t you dare wake me up.”

            Cozily nestled in soft warmth, Ashley decided not to wake up.  He was way too comfortable.  He could get another hour of sleep, easily.

            “No, I was up, I had something to take care of.”

            Nick.  Ashley opened his eyes and saw Nick’s nightstand.  He was in Nick’s bed.  He rarely spent the whole night alone with Nick; if he visited Nick at night, he usually went home before sunrise.  Waking up with Nick was too disloyal to Joey.  Not that having sex with Nick behind Joey’s back was a major display of loyalty.

             “Nothing important.  So who’d you spend the night with?”

            Nick’s voice was too close, right behind him.  Ashley knew that Nick was on the phone with Joey; he was using his Joey voice, the boyfriend voice.  Hearing Nick in boyfriend mode tended to make Ashley irrationally jealous.  He didn’t want to examine that too closely.

            Nick chuckled, low and intrigued.  “Really.  How’d that go?”

            Slow fingers were stroking Ashley’s back.  Gently rubbing his spine, caressing his angel spot.  Ashley closed his eyes again, never sure what to do with this kind of moment.

            “I’ll bet.  You want to hook up later?”

            Nick’s hand was sliding beneath the sheet, stroking his thigh.  Ashley swallowed, torn between the urge to push Nick’s hand away and the urge to guide it to where it could do the most good.

            “Yeah,” Nick agreed.  “He always likes getting attention from his…whatever you are.”

            Ashley wanted to hate Nick.

            “Sounds good,” Nick said.  “Call me later.  Yeah.  Love you.  Bye.”

            Ashley didn’t bother to give himself the same old set of speeches.  Yes, he was in love with Joey.  He was also fucking around behind Joey’s back.  It was with Joey’s boyfriend, and Joey encouraged him to have sex with Nick anyway, but that didn’t make it okay.  All of the rationalizations in the world wouldn’t make it right.

            He had to learn to say no to Nick.

            Ashley rolled onto his back and captured Nick’s hand on his thigh.  “I can’t.”

            Nick was clothed and gorgeous and looking at him like he mattered.  “Okay,” Nick said, tugging his hand free of Ashley’s grip.  “Joey just called.  He wants to see you today.”  Nick’s hand reached towards his face, then withdrew as Nick remembered.  “Are you okay?  About…Erik?”

            “Yeah,” Ashley said.  Shit.  “No,” he admitted, scrubbing his hand through his hair.  God.  Ashley sighed, looking at the ceiling.  “I don’t know what to do.”

            “You don’t have to rush into kicking him out of your life or into forgiving him this morning,” Nick said.  “Relax, Angel.  Let it happen.”

            When Nick said his name like that, it sounded like an endearment.  That was seriously fucking with Ashley’s head.  “I should go,” he said, looking at Nick again.

            “Okay,” Nick said.

            Just like that?  Ashley sat up, wondering why Nick wasn’t pressing the issue.  But Nick didn’t even suggest that they do anything; and by the time Ashley was dressed and ready to go, Nick hadn’t done more than look.

            With Nick, even one look was powerfully sexual.

            Ashley cupped his keys in one hand.  “I’ll see you later.”

            “We do keep running into each other,” Nick said with a grin.

            Ashley smiled, looking away.  It was difficult to talk to Nick without wanting more.

            “You’ll be okay,” Nick said.

            Ashley was reassured by that, and he didn’t know why.  He met Nick’s eyes.  “Thanks for listening to me last night.  You didn’t have to.”

            “I wanted to,” Nick said.

            He had to look away again.  “Bye,” he told the floor to the side.

            “Bye,” Nick said.

            Ashley left.

            He’d said no, and Nick had let him go.

            He should feel good about that.

            Howie and JC seemed even closer than they had before.  They shared long glances, they touched each other a lot and tended to linger, they murmured private things to each other.

            Erik had missed more than the mind-warping sex.  He’d missed watching them interact.  He’d missed talking to them.  He’d missed watching them groom themselves.  He’d missed their fancy food, and how casually wealthy Howie dressed, and how exotically JC dressed, and how they looked at him.

            Howie’s Puerto Rican coffee was in JC’s kitchen.  Howie’s clothes were in JC’s closet.  Howie’s CD’s were shuffled among JC’s.

            “Are you…living here?” Erik asked Howie over breakfast.

            “Half of the time,” Howie said with a wink.

            JC walked in, stopping behind Erik and wrapping his arms around Erik’s shoulders, resting his cheek by Erik’s ear while he talked to Howie.  It made Erik feel included, and it kind of turned him on to have JC that close.  “I called, and I got an appointment for this morning, but I’m going to have to go now,” JC said.  “Do you want me to change it?”

            “The sooner, the better,” Howie said with a teasing smile.  “Go ahead.  Erik and I can clean up here.”

            “Okay.”  JC leaned around Erik and met Howie halfway for a kiss.  “I’ll call you when I get the verdict.”

            “Okay.”  Another kiss, and Howie sat back with a warm, promising smile.  “I’ll be waiting for the good news.”

            JC chuckled.  “You’re not alone there.”  He ran his hand up the front of Erik’s neck, tipping Erik’s head back against his shoulder.  “I’ve missed you, honey.  I’m so glad you’re back with us.”

            Erik grinned.  “You’re not alone there,” he said, turning his head and kissing JC’s mouth, sliding one hand into JC’s hair to tug JC closer.  JC smiled and kissed him, flirting with his tongue.  When JC stepped back, Erik’s dick was halfway hard and he had to blink to make his eyes focus.

            “Bye, honey,” JC said, releasing him.  “Bye,” JC said to Howie, and left.

            Erik breathed.  Wow.  He turned his gaze to Howie.

            Howie smiled.  “Looks like it’s just us.”

            Oh, boy.

            When Ashley pulled up, there was a van in the driveway.  Curious, he let himself into the house.

            “Go see who that is,” Trevor’s voice said.

            “That’s exactly what I need, one more person asking me to do his evil bidding,” Chris’s voice said.  “Who is it?!”

            “It’s me,” Ashley said, walking into the kitchen.

            “Hey,” Trevor said.  He looked concerned.  “You okay?”

            Ashley shrugged.  “Not really,” he admitted.  “I don’t know.  What’s with the van?”

            “They’re cleaning,” Trevor said.  “They’re taking care of everything upstairs, the stairs, all of it.”

            “What?” Ashley asked.

            “They’re,” Chris said clearly.  “Cleaning.”

            Trevor rolled his eyes.  “They’re drying out the carpets and I don’t know what else.  I thought you’d know about it.”  He paused.

            Ashley played along.  “Why would I know about it?”

            “Because when I asked the guy how much he was charging us for it, he said that Mr. Carter had already taken care of it.”

            Ashley must have heard wrong.  “Mr. who?”

            “Mr. Carter,” Chris said loudly.  “Is he okay?” he asked Trevor.

            “Stop making fun of my friends,” Trevor said.

            “Okay,” Chris said.  “Is it okay if I make fun of you?”

            “Yeah, go ahead,” Trevor said, grinning at Chris like Chris was the coolest thing in the world.

            Ashley wanted to smack the countertop to get Trevor’s attention.  “He paid for it?  He called them?”

            “Looks like it,” Trevor said.  He gave Ashley an impressed look.  “Must be nice having a sugar daddy.”

            “I don’t have a sugar daddy!” Ashley protested.  “I don’t need a sugar daddy,” he said, trying to sound calmer.  “I don’t know…”  Why was all of this happening in front of Chris?  Couldn’t Trevor be a little more discreet about flashing Ashley and Nick’s relationship in front of Joey’s best friend?

            Nick had called in people to take care of the flooding.  He’d told Nick everything that was going wrong, and Nick was taking care of it.  Nick couldn’t help him with Erik, but he thought that Nick would, if it were possible.

            Nick was…being nice to him.

            He remembered last night.  Being well-fucked and wrapped in Nick’s arms.  Nick kissing his neck.  Falling asleep to a soft whisper: “You’re so beautiful I don’t want to look at anything else.”

            Nick didn’t have to say those things to him.  Nick didn’t have to do this for him.  But Nick chose to.  Nick wanted to.

            Warm inside, Ashley smiled.

            “Maybe it’s Jimmy Carter,” Chris said.

            “Yeah, it could be,” Trevor said, agreeing to keep him going.

            “Or that little blond kid,” Chris said.

            “Maybe,” Trevor said.

            “Carter,” Chris said.  “Carter.  It sounds so familiar.  And yet…”

            “Chris,” Trevor said.

            “What?” Chris asked.

            Trevor kissed him.  “Shut up.”

            Chris smiled, offering Trevor a plate.  “Waffle?”

            Erik helped Howie clean up JC’s kitchen, then sat with him on the sofa.  They talked about Trevor and the guys, and they talked about Howie and JC’s relationship.  Apparently, their time with Erik and their subsequent loss of him had brought them even closer together, and now they were flirting with terms like “life partner” and thinking about a feasible way of getting a house together without directly outing themselves to the world.

            “JC’s missed you a lot,” Howie said.  “It’s been hard for him.”

            “It’s been hard for me, too,” Erik said.  “You guys have really changed things for me.”

            “You’ve changed things for us, too,” Howie said.  He reached out, sliding his hand into Erik’s.  Erik took a moment to compare a woman’s graceful, smooth, manicured hand with Howie’s harder, stronger, more masculine hand.  He loved women, the way they touched him, the feel of their hands on him, but there was something about Howie’s natural sexual aggression, Howie’s physical strength…

            Erik realized that Howie was watching him stare down at their hands, and snapped back to attention.

            Howie’s gaze was quietly serious.  “I haven’t said much about this to JC, because I was supporting him, and I didn’t want him to worry about me.  I didn’t want to let on, but…”  Howie’s hand tightened over his.  “I’ve really missed you, too, Erik-Michael.”

            Erik was kicking himself for not having run back to Howie and JC earlier.  He’d almost missed out on all of this!  Then again, maybe he’d held out just long enough.  They wouldn’t have been wanting him back this badly if he’d returned too soon.

            “No one could ever mean more to me than JC,” Howie said.  “No one could ever be more important to me.  But you…”  Howie’s other hand rose, fingers circling Erik’s ear, making him shiver.  “There’s something about you that…pulls on me.”  Howie was leaning closer, his hand stroking down the side of Erik’s neck to his chest, tugging aside the collar of his shirt to caress bare skin.  “You make me feel…so…”  The desire in Howie’s eyes had Erik’s heart pounding, his dick stiffening, his lips parting.  “Take this off,” Howie said, hand splayed at the base of Erik’s throat, mouth descending on his for a fevered kiss.  Erik moaned, wrapping his arm around Howie’s waist and urging Howie closer.

            Howie hadn’t finished that sentence, so Erik didn’t know how he made Howie feel, but he sure as hell knew how Howie made him feel.  Desperate and horny and awed.  He wanted JC the way he wanted Britney; Britney was fucking hot, Britney was fucking sexy, everybody wanted her, everybody wanted to do her, and the lucky ones got to.  He wanted Howie the way he wanted J-Lo; she was gorgeous and sexy and out of his reach.  Britney was a wet dream, the kind of girl he jacked off over.  J-Lo was the kind of woman whose feet he worshipped at.

            Howie was very much not a woman, and the way he was grinding his dick against Erik proved that.  Groaning, Erik ground back, and, Jesus, when had they gotten on the floor?  Erik’s pants were getting tangled around his ankles and caught on his shoes, and when he rolled onto his back to kick his feet free, he cupped Howie’s ass in both hands, encouraging Howie to give him more.  God, the way Howie moved, the way Howie wanted it, the way Howie was rubbing his hair and kissing his neck and fuck, Erik rolled them back over, getting on top, fucking against Howie, rocking his dick in the precum they’d been drooling on each other.  He kissed Howie until he was so close to orgasm he lost all higher functioning and could only hold on and ride it out, moaning gibberish and coming so hard he squealed.

            Oh.  God.

            Erik swallowed, opening his eyes.  Howie was panting in his ear, moaning so softly he could barely tell, rubbing his thighs and squeezing his ass.  Erik had just come and his brain was already wondering how he could get more; Howie hadn’t come and clearly wanted to.

            “I have to fuck you.”

            They said it at the same time, with the same quiet, consuming need.  Erik blinked, uncertain.  He knew that he wasn’t going to let Howie do that, but it also didn’t seem fair to do it to Howie if he wasn’t going to let Howie get the same thing from him.

            Howie was drawing his knees up, restlessly rubbing his hands over Erik’s shoulders.  The thick lust in his low moan made Erik sweat.

            Maybe Erik couldn’t fuck Howie, but there was one thing he could definitely do.  Erik lifted up slightly, sliding down Howie’s body, getting a shoulder under Howie’s thigh and a hand around Howie’s dick, licking his lips and opening his mouth.

            “Hold on, baby,” Nick murmured, “almost there.”

            JC pulled desperately on his dick, a low groan welling up inside from a place almost as deep as the dildo was going.  He hadn’t been penetrated in so long he’d been going crazy from it, he’d needed it so much that nothing else could satisfy him.  He’d been dragging Howie into his arms and against his body morning, noon, and night, insatiable, half-mad with lust.

            But this, this…  The ridged, thick, hard length slid deeper and JC came, crying out at the brief respite from the endless ache, coming onto the pillow wedged beneath his hips.  He lived for this, for being entered, for being penetrated, for the incredible, incomparable intensity of being filled and stretched and, fuck, JC groaned with weak shock as the vibration began.  Fuck, fuck, oh god, JC couldn’t tense or relax, couldn’t stop the sudden tremors wracking his body, couldn’t - - Nick’s hands held him down, forced him still against the desperate urge to buck and squirm.  Gasping, panting, JC clutched spasmodically at the bedsheets, needing something to hold onto, something to, something…

            On his stomach, with Nick behind him, JC hadn’t seen the vibrator, hadn’t been prepared for that.  All he had to go on was Nick’s touch, Nick’s voice; he hadn’t seen any of the last five things that Nick had used to feed his need.  Nick had some new toys.  Some very…interesting new toys.

            Nick was the best lover JC had ever had for several reasons.  Many reasons.  One of them was his stunning proficiency with sex toys.  JC had developed a rather healthy interest in them long ago, and was always on the lookout for someone who could use them well.  There was an art to it that only the most experienced players understood.

            Nick was a physical lover.  He used not only his hands, his mouth, and his dick; he used his entire body to make love.  Nick made love with every inch of himself.  JC had been certain that someone that young and that organic wouldn’t know anything about toys, and wouldn’t need to.

            But Nick had surprised him.  Surprised him, overwhelmed him, even taught him a few things.  Nick used toys with a skilled touch, as though they were an extension of himself.  The nuanced, professional way he handled them, using them to increase JC’s appetite hundredfold and then satisfy it, made it seem as though a dildo weren’t a mere toy but instead another way to make love in the deep, intimate, intense, unforgettable way that only Nick could do it.

            Steadily, with an even rhythm and deep strokes, the vibrator fucked JC, setting him on fire from the inside out.  He was burning, burning, the hardness of it pushing deep, the thickness of it stretching wide.  His muscles ached, his ass throbbed, he felt like he was still coming, he felt like he was coming apart.  Sweating and making a pleading, demanding, whimpering, aggressive, sobbing, groaning noise, JC wondered if this might be what dying felt like, or maybe being born.

            “Do you want longer?”  The constant humming and the constant in and out and the constant touch on his prostate had JC’s mind blown, and for a moment he didn’t recognize Nick’s words.  “Do you want thicker?”

            JC curled his hands in the sheets, spreading his thighs desperately.  “I want you.”

            An indulgent chuckle from Nick.  “You want both.”

            JC groaned, his body moaning around the vibrator and wishing that it were Nick.  When Nick eased it out of him, JC whimpered shamelessly, too fucked and used and needy to do anything but offer Nick his ass.

            Nick covered his back, gentle fingers brushing sweat-wet hair from JC’s face.  “Can I fuck you, baby?”

            Panting harshly, too weak to rise up onto his knees but desperately trying to lift his hips, JC could barely form the word.  His mouth ached to be filled.  “Yes.”

            Fingers trailed over JC’s lube-slick asshole.  “I love how much you want it,” Nick said, pushing one fingertip in.  JC groaned, bucking, choking on his own need.  “Do you like this?” Nick asked softly, gently teasing him with one finger.  Slow, tender stroking had JC writhing and crying out and humping the pillow.  Nick’s touch knew him, manipulated him, exploited him.  Shallow fucking, flirting, tempting.  Two fingers of Nick’s other hand brushed JC’s parted lips, and JC opened for them, eagerly licking and sucking.  Nick fed him lovingly, giving him what he wanted, supplying him with what he needed.

            Moaning around Nick’s fingers, sucking demandingly, JC was starting to feel high again, drugged on Nick, and sex, and an overload of erotic stimulation.  When Nick’s finger slid from his ass, JC was jerked unpleasantly from his heaven, and licked furiously as Nick’s fingers stroked inside his mouth.  He craved fucking, he craved penetration, he craved Nick.

            He got Nick.  He felt Nick’s thighs settle against his, felt Nick’s hands stroke his back and angle his hips.  JC spread his thighs under Nick, arching his back, displaying himself and making an offer that no dick could refuse.

            “I know what you want,” Nick murmured, and the press of the swollen head of Nick’s dick against his ass had JC moaning with intensified craving.  “I know the way you like it.”  Oh, god, oh fuck, yes…

            One thrust and JC was screaming his throat raw.  Nick was in thick and deep, pushing JC to his limits.  The thrusting, the pounding, the fullness, the painful electric spasms of pleasure, JC was coming until it hurt.

            Whimpering around Nick’s fingers, JC undulated under Nick’s body, weakly rubbing into Nick’s hands, wanting to show his gratitude, wanting to give Nick pleasure.  He felt Nick’s chest against his back, closed his eyes and moaned as Nick stroked his lower lip and kissed his neck, moaned with new ecstasy with each thick plunge of Nick’s dick.

            “Nobody else feels like you do,” Nick said against his nape, clutching his hips.  “Nobody else gives me this.”  With that, Nick groaned and slammed in hard, again, coming inside him.

            What was left of JC moaned.

            “God, JC.”  Nick panted against JC’s shoulder.  “Sometimes I think I love you.”

            When Joey came over, Ashley told him about the flood and the mice and what Erik had said.  Joey checked things out and asked him if he wanted him to talk to Erik.  He said no, and they made out, and then they went outside and played two-on-two with Chris and Trevor.

            Jacob woke up alone in Brian’s bed.  He was sad and angry and horny and tired.  His body ached.  His heart ached.  His mind jumped in agitation from topic to topic: He wanted to tell Erik off.  He had to contact Clara.  He had to check on the exterminators.  He wanted to beat Erik senseless.  He’d finally seen Brian’s naked dick in the locker room at the gym last night and he wanted to touch it, cup it, stroke it with-

            “How are you doing?”

            “Fine,” Jacob said, rolling onto his stomach, pushing his nose into the pillow and letting his dreads fall forward to cover his face.  His life was increasingly fucked up and he had a hard-on for his best friend.

            Brian walked around from the doorway, sitting down beside him and lounging against him, resting on one side across his waist.  “Erik’s not just your business partner, he’s your family.”

            Jacob grunted into the pillow.  “I know.”

            “You have no ass.”

            Jacob lifted his head, peering at Brian through the fall of his hair.  “What?”

            Brian grinned.  “Whenever I lay down across Nick’s back, I can lean back against his ass.  There’s nothing to lean back against down here.”

            Jacob pushed his face back into the pillow.  “I have a great ass,” he muttered.

            Brian laughed.  “I’m sorry, Jacob, you have a terrific ass.”  He patted Jacob’s back comfortingly.

            Jacob wondered if Brian liked guys with round asses.  Jacob thought about Lance’s ass.  Jacob squeezed his eyes shut tightly and hated Lance.

            Brian reached up and stroked Jacob’s hair back.  “What were we talking about?”

            Jacob sighed.  “Erik.”

            “This is a tough one,” Brian said quietly, resting his hand on Jacob’s shoulder.  “You have to do what’s right for you, but it’s not that simple.  You have to do what’s right for your friendship with Erik, and you have to do what’s right for the band.”

            “He fucked our girlfriends,” Jacob snapped.

            “He’s part of the group,” Brian said.  “He’s one of you.”  Brian’s voice became softer.  “Some people would say that he’s the strongest singer you have.”

            Fuck Erik.  “I don’t need him,” Jacob said.  “I don’t need any of them.”

            “Ssshhh.”  Brian stroked his back.  “There’s going to be a time for that, Jacob.  You know it, I know it, and they know it.  That day will come.  But it’s not today, and we have to deal with today.”

            Jacob rolled over, displacing Brian, and sat up, pushing his hair back with both hands, shoving away the sheets.  “I’m not going to forgive him.”

            Brian studied him.  “That’s up to you.”

            Brian was being too nice to him, and that made Jacob more angry.  “You’re not going to tell me that it’s my duty?” he asked, challenging.

            “You know your duty better than I do,” Brian said.  “You understand Erik’s place in your life.”

            “Erik’s place in my life is that he fucks my girlfriends behind my back!” Jacob snapped.

            “Jacob, where is Clara now?”

            Jacob shook his head, irritated.  “I don’t know, California, she was in L.A. but I can’t even fucking find her to talk to her.”

            “You see Erik every day.  You work with him, you tour with him, you live with him.  You have for years now.”

            “That’s different, that’s work, that’s the group.  I loved her.”

            Brian nodded.  “Don’t you love Erik?”

            Jacob glared at Brian.  “Not anymore.”

            Brian smiled.  “Which one of them did you sleep with last?”

            Oh, hell, “Erik, and you know that’s a stupid, unfair question.”

            “Erik was a part of your life before Clara, and he’s been a part of your life after her.  If you do this right, he’ll be a part of your life forever.”

            “Great, that’s exactly what I want,” Jacob snapped sarcastically.  “Being eighty years old and still hanging out with those fools.”  He caught the flicker in Brian’s eye and sighed.  “I love them.  I love all four of them.  I even love Erik.  But he fucked my girlfriend, Brian, he fucked Clara.  Or, he says he did, and even if he didn’t, he’s still a motherfucking asshole for saying it.”

            “He’s your best friend, your brother, your partner,” Brian said.  “You love him, Jacob, and you need him.”

            Jacob thought about the way things had been going between the five of them.  The fighting.  The pettiness.  The secrets.  The tension.  The accusations.  They were a mess, they were a wreck, they were falling apart.  One more problem, just one more, might be one too many.  Things were getting bad.  Too bad.  He met Brian’s eyes.  “I have to forgive him,” he said.  “Even if I don’t want to, I have to do it.”

            Brian leaned in and hugged him, squeezing him in a warm embrace.  “We do what we have to do,” Brian said.  “No matter what it is, we do anything to keep the group alive.”  Another squeeze, and Brian let go.  “Welcome to the club.”

            It was weird.  Erik stroked Howie’s hair, closing his eyes as Howie kissed his stomach.  When JC was around, Howie seemed untouchable, almost unreadable, a notch above the rest of humanity.  It was like being with JC elevated Howie.  And Erik was used to that, Erik loved it.

            But whenever they were alone, on the rarest of occasions when JC wasn’t there, Howie was different.  More real, more human, approachable, down to earth.  Not nearly as enigmatic.  More equal.

            It made Erik feel closer to him.  Erik got to see sides of Howie that maybe everyone else didn’t get to enjoy.

            Howie’s hands slid up his thighs, over his hips, and when Howie nuzzled against the root of his erection, licking, Erik groaned.  “Please, god…  Just one time…”

            Howie crawled back up his body, settling onto him with easy familiarity, grinding against him a little to keep things going.  “Just once could never be enough.”

            Erik stroked the thick muscles in Howie’s thighs, letting his lashes flutter as Howie kissed him.  “I have to have you.”  The rocking and rolling of Howie’s hips was driving his body towards orgasm, but Erik had to make this point with whatever coherency he had left.  “I have to fuck you.”

            Howie’s kiss was becoming more focused, more aggressive, and the way his hands were moving over Erik’s body spoke of his lust.  “I want you,” he said, and licked inside Erik’s mouth.  “I want you, I want to be closer to you, I want to be inside you.”

            Erik was on his back underneath a surprisingly strong man who was not only gay but naked, aroused, and insisting on fucking him.  And he was so turned on he was actually coming.

            For a moment, mid-orgasm, tense and straining and gripping Howie’s ass and groaning his pleasure to the ceiling, it occurred to Erik that it wouldn’t actually kill him if he let Howie do it.

            A minute later, curled up with Howie in a knot of tangled limbs and wandering hands and slow, deep, lazy kisses, it occurred to Erik that one of them was going to have to give in, eventually.

            “How stubborn are you?” he asked, gazing into Howie’s eyes, sliding his fingers through the short waves of Howie’s hair.

            Howie smiled.  “I’m not stubborn at all,” he murmured, kissing Erik again.  “I’m just willing to be patient until I get exactly what I want.”

            Loose-limbed and relaxed after their workout, Justin handed Dan a bottle of water, dropping down to sit on the cool kitchen floor in his tank top and shorts.  “I could tear a phone book in half.”

            “Yeah?” Dan asked, sitting with him, leaning back against the cabinets.  “The phone book of what, the Milli Vanilli fan club?”

            Wiping sweat from his forehead with one hand, Justin gave Dan a look and paused to flex.

            “Eh,” Dan said with a casual grin, pretending to be unimpressed.  “You’re supposed to be more pumped than I am.  You’re taller.”

            Justin flicked at him.  “We’re the same height.”

            “You’re older,” Dan said.

            Justin flicked harder.  “You’re older than I am.”

            “Yeah, but I’m busy with my career, and all you ever do is sit around and talk about how hot you are.”

            Justin went ahead and hit him.  “I don’t have to talk about how hot I am.  My hotness speaks for itself.”

            “Yeah?” Dan asked.  “What’s it saying?”

            Justin laughed.  “Shut up.”

            Dan took a long drink.  “Your place, you shower first?”

            “Guests first,” Justin said.  Then he grinned, walking his fingers up Dan’s arm.  “Or, we could shower together.”

            Dan snorted, pushing at Justin’s hand.  “Trust me, you don’t want to see my naked body.”

            “I have seen your naked body,” Justin pointed out.

            “Oh, yeah.”  Dan took another drink.  “You can see why I wanted to work out.”

            Justin laughed.

            Dan shifted, stretching long legs.  “After we get cleaned up, I want to take you shopping.”

            Surprised, it took Justin a moment to comprehend.  “You want to take me shopping?”  No one took him shopping.  No one had, not for years.  Except Kevin, but Kevin was the exception to every rule in Justin’s life.

            “I want to get you something,” Dan said.  “You took me shopping, now it’s my turn to return the favor.”

            Justin frowned, sitting forward.  “You don’t have to,” he said.  “Dan, that’s - - I appreciate it, but I don’t need anything.  You’ve been helping me out, and that was just a gesture of thanks.  You don’t have to give me anything.”

            “One thing,” Dan said.

            Justin had no idea how big Dan’s bank account was, but he remembered recording a first album under Lou, and he knew how weak O-Town’s tour had been.  “I’m saying, you don’t have to.”

            Dan swallowed water.  “I’m saying, one purchase, one store, and I’m doing it whether you’re there or not.  If you’re there, you stand a better shot of getting something you want.”

            Justin knew Dan well enough to know when there was no point in arguing.  “Okay,” he said.  “But I’m showering first.”  He pushed himself to his feet, peeling out of his tank top, and headed out of the kitchen.  “And you’re no longer invited.”

             Dressed and standing by the front door, Erik stroked Howie’s hips and slid his fingers into Howie’s pockets while Howie rubbed his hair and sucked gently on his lower lip.  With JC back in action, Howie and JC were going to take some private time that night.  Erik was okay with that, he understood, but he couldn’t wait to experience JC again.  “Call me tomorrow.”

            “We will,” Howie said, kissing him.  Erik licked into Howie’s mouth, sucking on Howie’s tongue while Howie stroked behind his ears.  “Are you okay going home?”

            “Yeah.”  Erik tucked his fingers in Howie’s belt loops.  “They’re not actually going to kill me.  I’ll be okay.”

            Howie’s fingers caressed the thick fuzz over Erik’s scalp.  “They love you,” he said quietly, gazing into Erik’s eyes.

            Erik gazed back, feeling an odd tumble of new sensations.  Howie had said, “They love you,” not, “I love you,” and Erik knew the difference, but the quietly warm calm in Howie’s eyes, the softness of Howie’s voice, the intimacy between them…  Howie was in love with JC, Erik knew that, Erik wanted that, but still…

            He wanted Howie to be in love with him, too.

            He wanted to be one of them.  He wanted them to want him and include him and respect him and love him.  He wanted them to turn to him, the way they turned to each other.  They trusted each other and deferred to each other and shared things with each other.

            But what could he possibly bring to their relationship, besides a third dick?

            Erik cupped Howie’s face in both hands, feeling something happy and scared and new twisting around his heart when he looked into the soft darkness of Howie’s eyes.  “Why me?  Why do you and JC want me?”

            For the first time since Erik had met him, Howie avoided giving him a real answer to a direct question.  “JC wants you,” Howie said, “and I give JC whatever he wants.”

            Howie didn’t want to answer him, and that made Erik determined to get an answer.  He kissed Howie, getting an immediate response of affection and desire, Howie’s tongue stroking the roof of his mouth, Howie’s hands rubbing his shoulders and stroking his neck.  Erik used his height to his advantage, tilting Howie back, making Howie clutch at his arms for balance and push against him groin to groin.

            When Erik lifted his head, Howie was leaning back, face flushed, breath uneven, eyes glossy with lust.  Erik’s voice came out quiet but assertive.  “Why do you want me?”

            Howie licked his lips so slowly that Erik had to lick his own, tasting Howie there.  Howie was gazing at Erik with focused desire, and when Erik straightened, bringing Howie up, too, Howie barely seemed to notice.

            “Being with you,” Howie said.  “It satisfies something…inside me.  It feels right, it feels good, it feels…natural.”  Howie’s hand was pressed to Erik’s chest, and his fingers curled in slightly, catching on the fabric of Erik’s shirt.  “I want more of it.”

            Erik wouldn’t remember saying good-bye.  He wouldn’t remember getting in the car.  He wouldn’t remember driving home.

            He would always remember the deep wealth of desire in Howie’s eyes.

            A jewelry store.  They were in a jewelry store.  And not just a shopping mall jewelry store, either.  The kind of place Justin went to himself.

            “What are we doing here?”

            Dan looked around innocently.  “I’m going to get you a promise ring, Justin, just like we talked about.  I want to make our commitment official, I-”

            “Shut up.”  Justin shoved Dan aside and walked further into the store.  “You’re trying to buy me bling?”

            “No, I’m going to buy you something understated and dignified,” Dan said.

            Justin gave him a look.  “Do we work in the same industry?”

            Dan ignored that, walking around and looking at the cases on the walls.  “Tell me if you see something you like.”

            Justin had decided to play along, but within reason.  He scanned the store for something nice but inexpensive.  Maybe a simple bracelet.  He examined the displays, waiting for something to catch his-

            -eye.  Justin stepped closer.  It was a gold bracelet with heavy links, the links interrupted at four points by polished emeralds.  The green shine snared his attention, drawing him in.  His hand crept forward of its own accord, wanting to touch.

            “Found something you like?” Dan asked, stepping in beside him.

            “Uh, yeah.”  Justin pointed.  “That silver one, with the knots.”

            “Yeah?” Dan asked, looking at it.  “I like that.”

            They studied several bracelets, letting the saleswoman hover, trying them on.  Justin managed not to look at the emerald one again, moving to another case to get some distance from it.  Finally, he and Dan settled on two.  He was pushing for the less expensive one, and Dan told him to go wait in the car so it would be a surprise.  Rolling his eyes, Justin left, walking outside.

            He couldn’t believe Dan was buying him jewelry, anyway.  He didn’t need anyone to buy him anything, and since when did guys buy each other bracelets?  Justin leaned against the car, taking in some sun, watching the front of the shop.

            It had been a good day, so far.  It was odd, how Justin kept having those.  He smiled, thinking how weird it was that Dan was actually improving his life.  He wouldn’t have expected that in a million years.

            Dan had seemed pretty upset last night.  Not upset, exactly, more like tired, maybe.  Tired of the bullshit, tired of the drama.  It could get overwhelming sometimes.  Justin wondered how Dan was going to deal with it.  By working out and buying him things?

            The door opened and Dan stepped outside, crossing the sidewalk to him.  “Hey,” Dan said, bag in hand.  “Let’s go.”

            Let’th go.  For the most part, Dan had the lisping thing largely under control during normal conversation, but he lisped more when he was drunk.  Justin wondered if he lisped more during sex, too.  The idea made him smile, and Dan gave him an amused look.  “What?”

            “Nothing,” Justin said, unlocking the doors.  “Can I have my bracelet?”

            “No,” Dan said, getting in the car.

            “No?” Justin repeated, sitting down beside him.  “Why not?”

            “I’m going to give it to you when we get back to your place.”

            Okay.  Justin started the car.  “Is there a reason for that?  I already know what I’m getting.”

            “Humor me.”

            Justin put the car into reverse.  “Consider yourself humored.”  He flipped on the radio and drove home, music blaring, top down.  When he pulled into the garage, he felt compelled to say, “You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”

            “Hell, it’s too late, now,” Dan said.  “You should have said something earlier.”

            Justin took one look at him, then snatched up the bag and scrambled out of the car.  Dan came after him, clambering across the seats and over the door.  Yelling at him about the upholstery, Justin got the door open and ducked inside.  Justin turned to slam the door shut, but Dan was too close and he ran, swerving from one room to the next, narrowly dodging Dan’s grasp.  “Get off of me, this is mine!” he pointed out breathlessly, racing through the TV room.

            “Not until I give it to you!” Dan said.  “It’s mine!”

            Justin felt Dan’s hand grab the tail of his shirt and leapt over the coffee table, intending to cross back and run for the stairs.  He’d misjudged how close behind him Dan was, and at the last second Dan’s weight slammed into him, both of them dropping to the sofa.  Justin twisted, pushing, trying to get some leverage, but Dan had him pinned and he gave up, panting, caught.

            “Ow.”

            “Ow yourself,” Dan said.  “Give it up.”

            Justin grumbled.

            A hand swatted him on the back of the head.  “Give it.”

            Justin worked his hand out from under himself, offering the bag.

            “Thanks.”  Dan took it from him, getting up and sitting back.  Justin shifted around to a more dignified position and waited.  Dan took a jewelry box from the bag and handed it to Justin with a smile.  “Here, I got something for you.”

            “You’re such an ass,” Justin said.

            “You’re not bad, yourself,” Dan said with easy affection, leaning back calmly.

            Justin shook his head, opening the box and…

            Carefully, Justin started breathing again.  He lifted his gaze from the gold and emerald bracelet, meeting Dan’s eyes.  “This isn’t what we looked at.”

            “It’s what you wanted,” Dan said.

            Justin swallowed.  Dan knew.  How had Dan known?  How could Dan know him this well and not see?  His gaze dropped to the bracelet again.  The emeralds shimmered.  So pure, so hard, so green.

Everyone thought that green was the color of envy.  Everyone was wrong.

Green was the color of hatred.

Green was the color of love.

            Justin took the bracelet from the box, draping it over his wrist.  He found the catch, fastening it.  It fit perfectly, not too tight, not too loose.  Stroking the emeralds, he looked at Dan.  “How did you know?”

            “I’m learning,” Dan said.

            Justin couldn’t wear Kevin’s bracelet every day.  He couldn’t risk anything happening to it.  This bracelet, he’d wear every day.  It would keep Kevin close.

            It would keep…Dan close.

            Maybe that was a good thing.  Dan gave Justin a precarious feeling of hope, a false sense of temporary security.  Maybe keeping Dan close would be reassuring.

            Justin took Dan’s hand, squeezing, one two.  “Thank you.”

            Three four.  “You’re welcome.”

            Taking his hand back to stroke the bracelet again, Justin looked into Dan’s eyes.  Really looked.  Dan’s eyes weren’t just blue, they were extremely blue.  Maybe a shade or two lighter than Justin’s own, and so rich…  Looking directly into them, Justin could almost see Dan’s confidence, Dan’s inner calm.  “You have gorgeous eyes.”

            Dan looked surprised, blinking deliciously thick black lashes, but he took it well.  “Thanks.”  He smiled.  “You’re pretty good-looking, yourself.”  He looked down, then glanced back up.  “Listen…  We were talking about going out tonight.”

            “Yeah,” Justin said.

            “I invited Rebecca to go with us.”

            “Yeah,” Justin said, drawing one leg in, opening and closing his hand in brief, unconscious agitation.  He’d known that.  He’d invited Lance.

            “I’d like to go home with her.”

            Justin kept himself from reacting.  “Okay.”

            “If you don’t want me to-”

            “Hey, do your thing,” Justin said, cutting off the pain and denying that he felt it.  “Have a good time.  I think I can put myself to bed for once.”  He pushed the conversation forward, refusing to dwell on himself, preferring to focus on Dan.  “I like her.  She’s hot as hell and she’s all about you.”

            “She’s telling everybody she knows that she’s danced with you,” Dan said.  “I think she’s putting up a billboard.”

            Justin laughed.  “I didn’t even put myself that much into it.  I was trying to be a gentleman.”

            “I appreciate it,” Dan said.  “You’ll be okay tonight?”

            “Yeah,” Justin said.  “Don’t worry about me.  It’s about time you got laid.”

            “I told you I had sex out of town,” Dan said.

            “You can’t prove it,” Justin said.

            “Real men don’t have to prove it,” Dan said.

            “Real men get laid more than once a year,” Justin said.

            Dan raised his eyebrows.

            “What?” Justin asked.

            “It’s a cheap shot,” Dan said.  “I’d never forgive myself for saying it.”

            “What is it?” Justin asked.  “Now you have to say it.”

            Dan hesitated.

            “Coward,” Justin said.

            “Do real men buy dildos?” Dan asked.

            “Hell, you’re the one who bought them,” Justin said.

            “You’re the one who used them!” Dan protested.

            “You can’t prove it,” Justin said.

            “I’m the one getting laid tonight,” Dan said.  “I don’t have to prove anything.”

            “Damn it,” Justin said, leaning back.  “You win.”  He sighed.  “Have a good time.”

            “I’ll have enough of a good time for both of us,” Dan promised with a grin.

            “Hey, don’t worry about me,” Justin said.  “My sex life is…”  He thought about it.  “Completely fucked.”  He groaned.  “Damn.”

            Dan gave him a sympathetic look.  “Maybe it’s good for you to take a break.”

            “Would this be a bad time to point out that you could be a huge help in this area?” Justin asked.

            “Yes,” Dan said, “it would.”  He patted Justin’s knee.  “But thanks for asking,” he said, getting up.

            “Where are you going?” Justin asked.

            “To the bathroom, man, relax,” Dan said, walking out of the room.

            “Thanks for the bracelet!” Justin called.

            “You’re welcome!” Dan called back.

            Justin kissed his bracelet and slouched down a little, stroking the emeralds, closing his eyes.

            When JC got home, Howie and Erik were gone.  He took a bath, then took a nap.  In his dreams, he was with Nick again.

            Nick had said, “Sometimes I think I love you.”

            “Sometimes I think I love you.”

            JC hadn’t called him on it.  Hadn’t asked him about it.  Hadn’t responded to it.  Hadn’t referred to it.

            If he did, Nick might deny it, dismiss it, explain it away.

            As it was, JC could keep it.

            It wasn’t what he’d used to have.  It wasn’t nearly as extensive or elaborate as the things that Nick had said to him, once upon a time.  It had been said during sex, and anything spoken during sex didn’t count.

            But Nick had said it.  “Sometimes I think I love you.”

            That didn’t mean that Nick had meant it.  JC understood that.  But there had been no reason for Nick to lie.  Nick hadn’t needed to say it to get him into bed, obviously, or to soothe ruffled feelings, or to coax him into action.  And if Nick had wanted to lie to him, there were a dozen other things that Nick could have said.

            It had been such a strange, post-orgasmic, seemingly heartfelt thing to say, that it had rung oddly true.

            “Sometimes I think I love you.”

            In some way, that small, unsatisfying, possible truth from Nick was better than flowery words of false love.  That had been an honest sentiment from the real Nick.

            Sometimes, Nick thought that he loved JC.

            That wasn’t a signal that JC should start planning a commitment ceremony.  But it did indicate that there was something between them.

            JC could work with that.

            They were supposed to be watching a movie together, but Joey and Ashley were making out on the sofa while Chris and Trevor had a popcorn fight in the kitchen.  When Joey’s phone rang, he slipped his hand under Ashley’s shirt to stroke Ashley’s nipples.

            “Joey,” Chris said.

            “Get it for me,” Joey said, grinding his dick against Ashley’s thigh.  Vaguely, he heard Chris answering his phone.  Then there was a hand in his hair that didn’t belong to Ashley, and Chris was saying, in a strange tone of voice, “Joey, it’s your boyfriend.”

            “Nick?” Joey asked, vaguely interested.

            “I think that you’ll want to talk to him,” Chris said, and tugged on his hair.

            Sighing, Joey dragged himself away from Ashley’s mouth and took the phone from Chris.  “Hey.”

            “I had a good time with you.”

            AJ.  Joey sat up, feeling his instinctual response kick in right on cue.  “I did, too.”

            “I need you to do something for me.”

            “Whatever you need,” Joey said immediately.

            “I’ve never been with anyone else like you,” AJ said.  “You fit me perfectly, Joey, you know exactly what I like.  No one else does it for me like you do.”

            “I do my best,” Joey said, wanting to get his hands on AJ, settling for putting a hand on Ashley, pushing up Ashley’s shirt to feel the heat of Ashley’s skin.

            “I’ve been having sex with Timberlake, and I don’t know what he’s used to, but he’s not exactly you,” AJ said.

            It hit Joey like a bucketful of cold water.  His hand stilled.

            “I want you to talk to him for me,” AJ said.  “Tell him what I like, tell him what I’m about.  I don’t have the time to teach him, but you know me better than anyone else does.”

            Joey couldn’t believe that he was being confronted with this situation.  AJ couldn’t possibly be asking him to do this.  But he couldn’t say no.  Not to AJ.

            “He’s good, he has potential, but you know me,” AJ said.  “I need more.”

            “Yeah,” Joey said.  “I know.”  He lightly scratched Ashley’s stomach.  He couldn’t say no to AJ, so that left him with only one reply.  “I’ll talk to him.”

            “Thanks,” AJ said.  “Thanks for coming over. You gave me what I needed.”

            “Any time,” Joey said, stroking Ashley in response to the sex in AJ’s voice.

            “I’ll call you later,” AJ said.  “Or sooner,” he added, and hung up.

            Joey pocketed his phone and crawled back over Ashley, kissing him deeply.  “Let’s take this to your room.”

            Once the nymphomaniacs went upstairs, the real war began.  Chris ran out of ammunition early and had to survive a full popcorn assault while he scrambled around the kitchen for a new weapon.  Cheese balls weren’t bad, but Trevor escalated with Cheerios, and then Chris had to seize upon the Lucky Charms.

            Trevor was pelting him with miniature marshmallows and he was responding with handfuls of flour when Jacob walked into the kitchen.  Chris panicked, hastily wiping his hands on Trevor’s shirt, because where Jacob was, Brian wasn’t far behind.

            “Nice,” Jacob said, taking the bag of marshmallows from Trevor.  “You’re perfect for each other.”

            “Where’s your boyfriend?” Trevor asked.

            “I don’t have a boyfriend,” Jacob said, eating a marshmallow.

            Trevor rolled his eyes, then seemed to notice exactly what Chris was doing.  “You’re buying me a new shirt.”

            “It’s flour, you can wash it,” Chris said, finding a cleaner patch for detail work.

            “Justin buys new wardrobes for Dan, who’s not his boyfriend.  Howie buys new wardrobes for Erik, who’s not his boyfriend.  You won’t buy new clothes for me,” Trevor said.

            “You’re not my boyfriend,” Chris said.

            “Ouch,” Jacob said.

            “That’s cold,” Trevor said to Chris.

            Chris sighed, wiping his now clean hands on his jeans.  “I’ll give you a shirt.”

            “Which one?” Trevor asked.

            Chris picked up a stray cheese ball. Yummy.  “Which one do you want?”

            “Give me the one you’re wearing.”

            “Not sure it’s your size,” Chris said.  “Also, notice how not clean it is.”

            “You two have a great relationship,” Jacob said.  The doorbell rang.  “Excuse me,” he said, and left.

            “Hand it over,” Trevor said.

            “I’m wearing it,” Chris said.

            “Take it off,” Trevor said.

            “And walk around naked?” Chris asked.

            “You can keep the pants,” Trevor said.

            “Well, that’s generous of you,” Chris said.  “What am I supposed to wear home?”        

            Trevor grinned.  “Who said you’re going home?”

            Chris grinned back.  “Saucy.”

            Trevor kissed him, so Chris kissed back.  Together, they pulled off his shirt, and once it was gone Chris found himself backed against the counter, Trevor’s mouth on his naked shoulder, Trevor’s hands on his ass.  Chris closed his eyes, liking the attention, and when Trevor returned to his mouth he ran his hands across Trevor’s chest, stroking-

            “Ignore them,” Jacob’s voice said.  “Trevor’s just stalling for time so he won’t have to clean up the kitchen.”

            “It’s an interesting technique.”

            At the sound of Brian’s voice, Chris jerked, startled.  “Ouch!” Trevor said, pulling back, putting a hand to his mouth.  “Sorry,” Chris said, trying to remember how he was supposed to react.  It was incredibly hard to be normal in front of other people when Brian was around.

            “Does it help to be half-undressed?” Brian asked curiously, a smile in his eyes.

            Chris felt himself turning beet red.  “We were…just…  We thought that if we got naked and poured syrup on ourselves, and then rolled around on the floor, the food would stick to the syrup and then the, uh, the kitchen would, uh, be clean.”

            “Wow.”  Trevor was staring at him.  “That is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

            “I was…you…  Shut up,” Chris said.  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked Brian.

            Brian smiled at him.  “Not right now, but thanks for asking.”  He touched Jacob’s arm.  “Maybe we should leave them to their naked syrup rolling.”

            “Yeah,” Jacob said.  “I’ll see you later,” he said to Trevor and Chris.  “Therapy might help,” he added, and left with Brian.

            Trevor handed Chris a cheese ball.  “We could have looked stupider.”

            Chris chewed.  “I don’t see how.”  Brian was in the house.  With Jacob.  “I think that you should clean this up by yourself.”

            “You were the one throwing flour everywhere.”

            “It’s your house.”

            “You started it.”

            “I’m a guest.”

            “You sleep here practically every other night.”

            “I like your bed,” Chris said.

            Trevor looked surprised.  “Why?”

            Chris patted his chest, raising a cloud of flour.  “It has you in it.”  Chris coughed.  “You’re dusty.”

            “It’s flour,” Trevor said.  “It’s also your fault.”

            “I’m going upstairs to raid your closet,” Chris said.  “Start cleaning.”

Continue on to part twenty-seven

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