Sucker
Copyright November 24, 2002-June 24, 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 thirty-six...
Jacob knocked on Trevor’s door. “Can I come in?”
“What do you want?” Trevor asked, sounding like he’d rather be left alone.
Jacob went in, flipping on the light and turning off the stereo. “This is getting ridiculous. I know you’re upset about Chris, but spending all day in bed listening to one damned song is going to drive you crazy.”
“If you don’t like it, get out,” Trevor said without much energy.
“I’m leaving,” Jacob said. “I have somewhere to be. But I’m not going until you’re out of that bed.”
Trevor rolled away, irritated and intruded upon. “Get out.”
“Not until you get up,” Jacob said, reaching for him. When Jacob’s hands closed on Trevor’s arm, Trevor realized that Jacob intended to drag him out of bed, and resisted. Immediately it became a challenge, Jacob doing his best to get Trevor off of the bed, Trevor resisting at all costs. Eventually, after some struggling and cursing and even some sweat, Jacob attacked from the other side of the bed, pushing and rolling and wrestling Trevor across the mattress and off. They landed in a heap on the floor.
Having been defeated, Trevor muttered a few obscenities and refused to move further.
“Thanks.” Getting up and dusting himself off, Jacob walked out of the room. “Your turn,” he said to the other guys in passing, and went downstairs to the sounds of Erik, Dan, and Ashley dragging a protesting Trevor into the hall.
“I have to go,” JC said, checking his watch. “What are you going to say to Lance?”
“Hello, Lance,” Chris said.
“I’m going to tell him that I’m sorry Howie fucked him up but he can’t drag me into his own paranoid psychodrama,” Justin said. “I have enough to deal with.”
“You know that Lance is right,” Joey said.
“No, I don’t,” Justin said. “I really don’t. And neither do you.”
“The evidence points in twenty directions,” JC said. “We don’t know who’s right about what.”
“Which is why we should listen to Lance and protect ourselves,” Joey said.
“I can’t live that way,” Chris said.
“I have to go,” JC said again. “I’ll probably be back here later. Are you guys okay?”
“Never better,” Chris said.
“Joey can baby-sit us,” Justin said. “We’ll be fine.”
“Okay. You’re going to see Ashley later?” JC asked Joey.
“Yes,” Joey said impatiently.
“Okay,” JC said. “Bye.”
Chris waved.
Only minutes after Howie had gone, while Lance was still in his underwear, the doorbell rang.
Lance looked down at himself, decided that there was no sense in getting dressed again, and went to the front door.
Jacob looked as resentful as always. “I’m here.”
The sudden shift from Howie to Jacob was unpleasantly jarring. Lance couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather have to fuck less in that moment. He almost closed the door in Jacob’s face.
“It’s good to see you’ve finally succumbed to your whorish impulses and given up on clothing,” Jacob said, stepping into the house and closing the door.
All of Lance’s hatred, shame, and frustrated fury rushed to the surface. Grabbing a handful of hair at Jacob’s nape, Lance jerked him forward, staring into his eyes. “I have had a very bad day. The last thing I’m in the mood for is your bitchiness. If you can’t shut up on your own, I’ll shut you up by using that nasty mouth of yours for what it was made for.”
Jacob shoved Lance back roughly. “I already dealt with your friend and his great defender. You don’t want to push me around right now.”
Lance couldn’t believe it. “Are you threatening me?”
“You threatened me,” Jacob said.
Jacob was such a little shit. “Take off your clothes.” Jacob took a step down the hallway, towards Lance’s bedroom. “Here,” Lance added sharply.
Without any protest or hesitation, but with an angry, stubborn expression on his face, Jacob stripped, dropping his clothes in a pile on the floor.
“On your back,” Lance said.
Jacob looked down, then at Lance. “On the floor?”
“On the floor,” Lance said.
“Fuck you,” Jacob said, and walked away.
Lance wasn’t about to go after the bitch.
The house was silent.
Lance contemplated just leaving.
It would serve the fucker right.
He didn’t want to deal with that self-righteous, bitchy asshole, anyway.
Jacob was probably in his bedroom.
Jacob was probably going through his shit.
Fuck! Lance stormed down the hallway, stepping through the doorway to his room angrily, opening his mouth to-
Oh.
Oh.
Jacob was splayed across Lance’s well-used bed on his back, legs spread, one knee up. He was lubing himself, fucking himself slowly, slowly, with one finger, head back, mouth open, eyes closed, writhing sinuously into his own touch.
He was slender, and pale, and pretty. He licked temptingly pouted lips, hips moving like they only understood sexual, wanton motion.
Maybe Lance had trained him too well.
A slow, breathy moan escaped Jacob’s throat.
“Thinking about Brian?” Lance asked, approaching the bed.
“I’m sure as hell not thinking about you,” Jacob said, arching slowly.
Lance hated Jacob more than he hated anyone else in his life, and he couldn’t wait to fuck the bitch. “Suck my dick,” he said, pushing his underwear down.
Eyes opening, Jacob slid his finger out and rolled forward, sitting up and moving fluidly onto his hands and knees, taking Lance’s dick in one hand, pumping it efficiently before guiding it to his mouth.
Lance closed his eyes, because the sight of his dick in Jacob’s mouth turned him on, and he didn’t want to think about that. He thought instead about Howie. Howie sucking his dick. Howie could be a demanding lover, but Howie also was a smooth lover, with grace and finesse. When Howie was in a romantic, seductive mood, and everything was - - god, that felt good - - slow and sensual, it - - oh, yeah - - became a - - “god, suck it.” Lance groaned, gripping a fistful of hair and rocking his hips, beginning a slow, steady fuck. God, that felt, “oh, yeah,” so good. Lance had taught him a lot, but there was no denying Jacob’s natural talent. The soft lips, the wet heat, Jacob’s mouth was designed to give pleasure, and Jacob’s tongue was designed for wicked, wonderful things. The longer Lance fucked Jacob’s mouth, the more sure he became that he was going to come down Jacob’s throat. He knew that he shouldn’t, that he still had to fuck the bitch, but, “god, yes, I know you want it.”
Jacob sat back, wiping his mouth with one hand, looking up at Lance. “You going to fuck me or what? I’m not here for your pleasure.”
Lance absolutely hated him.
Joey gave the blue jelly beans to Chris and the green ones to Justin.
“Did you notice…” Chris dropped his jelly beans into his soda, one by one, splish, splash, splish.
“What?” Joey asked, oddly distracted by the way Justin was licking his jelly beans.
“They seemed kind of…” Splish. Splash.
“What?” Joey asked again, looking away from Justin. “Chris?”
“Were they being nice to JC?” Chris asked.
Justin lost interest in his jelly beans. “You saw that, too?”
Joey had noticed it. “Maybe they…”
“Like him,” Chris said. “They like him.”
“They don’t like anyone,” Justin said. “They hate us.”
“They don’t hate JC,” Chris said.
“Maybe they’re just nicer to him because…” Joey couldn’t think of anything.
“I hope Lance didn’t notice,” Justin said.
Joey hoped so, too, but there was no way that Lance hadn’t noticed. “Do you think he’s really doing a better job than the rest of us?”
“Maybe they just think he’s hot or something,” Chris said.
“Nick is so good to him,” Justin said.
Well… Relatively, yes. Not according to normal standards, but according to the way Kevin treated Justin, Nick treated JC like a prince.
“Maybe they’re nice to JC because Nick likes him?” Chris asked, searching for an answer.
“But Brian’s in love with Lance, maybe, and they weren’t nice to Lance,” Justin said.
“What does JC have that we don’t have?” Chris asked.
“A lot of hair?” Joey guessed.
“When I had a lot of hair, that didn’t make them like me,” Justin said.
“I wish I were JC,” Chris said softly, stirring his jelly bean soda with a straw. “Brian smiles at him in front of everybody like they’re friends.” He dropped in another jelly bean. “Kevin was nice to him. Kevin apologized to him. Kevin doesn’t apologize to anyone.”
“Apologized for what?” Justin demanded, shocked.
“For locking him out of Lance’s room and keeping him from getting dressed,” Chris said. “He said, ‘Sorry about that.’”
Justin’s mouth hung open.
“He wasn’t even being sarcastic or mean,” Chris said. “I think he’s losing his touch.”
Justin was flabbergasted.
Joey wondered what the hell was going on.
Jacob pushed sweat-soaked curls back from his forehead, looking up at Lance. Lance was on all fours over him, studying his face. “What?”
“You really are an incredible bitch,” Lance said.
Jacob wasn’t offended. “You really are an incredible asshole.”
“What the hell makes you think that you’re a genuine artist?” Lance asked.
Jacob scoffed. “What the hell makes you think you’re a cosmonaut?”
A look of pure rage crossed Lance’s face, but he didn’t speak.
Unmoved, Jacob let his gaze drift past Lance, around the room. He wondered how the guys had managed to cheer up Trevor. He wondered what Brian was doing. He wondered who had put those scratches on Lance’s chest. He wondered - - a touch at his neck broke into Jacob’s thoughts. He looked up into Lance’s face as Lance’s fingers stroked over his skin.
Lance was looking at his hand, at Jacob’s neck. He looked…curious.
Jacob wondered what Lance was thinking about. Justin? He watched Lance’s eyes.
Slowly, gently, Lance’s hand closed over Jacob’s neck. The oddest part about it was the strangely fascinated expression on Lance’s face. “I can see the imprints of his hands,” Lance said.
“I know.” It irritated him that they were still there, but they were fading quickly.
“You have no idea how much we hate you.”
“So you’re going to snap my neck?” Jacob asked.
Lance met his eyes and smiled, hand lifting. “It would make things easier.”
“You hate me, I hate you, sounds like we’re even,” Jacob said. “My life would be easier if you weren’t in it, too.”
“Then move to some obscure uncivilized country where that hairstyle makes sense, and we’ll both be happy,” Lance said.
Jacob smiled. “Brian likes my hair.”
“Then Brian is out of his freaking mind,” Lance said. His gaze traveled down Jacob’s body; he lightly stroked Jacob’s pelvic bone. “Do you really think that you can make Brian want you?”
“If he lets you touch him, his standards can’t be too high.” Lance’s light caress traveled across his abs, trailing awareness in its wake. “Do you want to do it again, or are you having trouble getting it up more than once a day?”
Lance smacked his thigh. “The whole time I was fucking you, you looked pissed off. Smile.”
“Smile?” Jacob repeated.
Lance glared at him. “Smile.”
Jacob bared his teeth.
Lance’s glare intensified. “I’m Brian and I just told you that I love you.”
Jacob closed his eyes, thinking about it, mentally pushing away Lance and drawing in Brian, then let a natural smile form, opening his eyes.
“Is that the best you can do?” Lance asked.
“What does this have to do with anything?” Jacob asked.
“If you look angry, Brian’s not going to want you,” Lance said.
“I don’t look angry when I’m with Brian,” Jacob said.
Lance tapped Jacob’s thigh. “What did you call Justin, again? A whore?”
“Something like that,” Jacob said without a trace of apology in his voice. He didn’t remember word for word what he’d said, but he remembered his point, and he stood by it.
Lance’s hand flattened against his stomach, sliding firmly up his chest. There was no humor in Lance’s tone. “What does this make you?”
Jacob had spent considerable time on that very question, and he had the answer ready. “It makes me so devoted to Brian I’ll even deal with you to get closer to him.”
Lance’s hand slid threateningly up over Jacob’s neck. “If I’m that damned disgusting, why are you here? Why not get this lesson from someone else?”
Jacob let the pressure of Lance’s hand tip his chin up, his head back, but not enough to break eye contact. “Because you’re the only guy I hate enough to use like this.”
“You’re a whore,” Lance said.
“I’m in love,” Jacob said.
There was venom in Lance’s voice, poison in his touch as he stroked Jacob’s neck. “You’re a slut.”
“I’m in love,” Jacob said firmly.
Everywhere Lance caressed, hatred clung to Jacob’s flesh. “You’re a bitch, Jacob, and you’re a cunt.”
Jacob refused to give in to Lance’s words or the loathing in Lance’s eyes. He said, with the same firmness as before, refusing to let the filth of his body’s actions taint the purity of what he held for Brian in his heart, “I’m in love.”
Lance’s fingers pressed in on either side of his jaw, right where it hinged, hard enough to hurt. “You don’t know what love is.”
Brian was a permanent part of Jacob’s soul. “I know more about love than you could ever understand.”
Whip fast, Lance’s hand had a tight grip on the hair at Jacob’s nape, lifting him from the pillow to bring him to a crushing kiss. Undaunted by the bruising force of Lance’s kiss, Jacob pushed himself onto one elbow, wrapping his other arm around Lance’s shoulders and roughly taming Lance from punishing to hungry.
Lance’s hips ground down against Jacob, their dicks rocking together in growing arousal. When Jacob’s teeth nipped a little too hard, Lance lifted his head, still close enough to kiss. Their eyes met in anger and need as they panted softly together. “Roll over,” Lance said, unable to keep his gaze from dropping to Jacob’s red, inviting lips.
“Fuck you,” Jacob said, defiance in his eyes.
“No,” Lance said, his voice turning to a growl, then to a whisper as his free hand pulled Jacob’s knee up and into position. “Fuck you.”
When JC got home, Howie was waiting for him in the driveway. Howie had a key, and a garage door opener; JC was glad to see that he’d used neither.
They entered the house together, in silence. JC did his best to avoid looking directly at Howie without being obvious about it. He had too many vivid sexual memories of gripping ecstasy and rich sensuality centering around Howie, and he didn’t want to let his libido interfere with his thoughts. Howie was undeniably gorgeous and a wonderful lover, but that didn’t change the fundamental problems in their partnership.
JC would forgive Nick anything. Nick could lie to him, cheat on him, betray him, abandon him, give him the world and rip it all away, and JC would forgive. Because Nick was extraordinary. Because the core of JC was empty without him.
No one else was Nick. Howie wasn’t Nick. JC had no reason to forgive Howie anything.
“You’re still angry.” It was a displeased statement of fact.
JC turned sharply to face Howie. “You’re lying to me. I won’t take that again, I won’t-”
“I’m not Nick,” Howie said forcefully. “I know that Nick broke your heart, JC, but you can’t take that out on me.”
“What about what you did to Lance?” JC demanded. “Can I take that out on you?”
“What happened between me and Lance is between me and Lance,” Howie said. “Just like what happened between you and Nick is between you and Nick. Your past with Nick is none of my business. I don’t ask you about it, I don’t talk about it, I don’t need to know about it. It was a very private thing that only has to do with the two of you. But now you seem to think that what happened between me and Lance is public domain. Is he giving you details? Is he pushing you to confront me about it? Has he confronted Brian? Is Chris interrogating Kevin?”
“Of course Chris isn’t interrogating Kevin.” They were still in the front hallway and already JC was furious with Howie’s refusal to address the real problem. “This isn’t about Chris, this-”
“This is about Nick,” Howie said. “Lance is your closest friend, and you believe everything that he says to you. Then you hear me denying it, and you wonder if Nick would deny you the same way I’m refusing to support Lance’s claims.”
“What?” JC demanded. “This isn’t about Nick!”
“Then you tell me, what is this about?” Howie asked, clearly frustrated.
“I’ve been trying to tell you!” JC shouted. “This is about you! This is about you, Howie, about you lying to me, about you manipulating me, about-”
“I’m not lying to you!” Howie ran his hands through his hair, visibly reining in his temper. “I’m not lying to you,” he repeated with forced calmness.
“Lance didn’t give you all of that jewelry,” JC said.
“No, he didn’t.”
“That ring?” JC asked. “He didn’t give that to you?”
“I told you,” Howie said, “I don’t remember.”
“You said that one of the Boys gave it to you,” JC snapped.
“I told you that I didn’t remember!”
“You wear it every day!”
“What do you want from me?!” Howie looked ready to throw or hit something. “I don’t remember where I got it! I don’t remember when I got it! I don’t remember who gave it to me! I started wearing it more often because I like it! What do you want me to tell you, JC? Do you want me to tell you Lance gave it to me? Do you want me to tell you that he gave me every ring I own?”
“Yes!” JC shouted.
“I can say that!” Howie yelled back. “I can tell you whatever you want to hear! Tell me what you want and I can deliver any of it. But that doesn’t make it true! You want me to tell you the truth, but you won’t believe me when I do! What do you want from me?!”
“The truth!”
Howie slammed his palm flat against the wall, leaning in furiously towards JC. “I am giving you the truth! Lance is lying to you! I can’t help it if that’s truth you don’t want!”
“Why should I believe you and not him?” JC demanded. “I have a million reasons to trust Lance and not one reason to trust you.”
“What would I get out of lying to you?!”
“What would Lance get out of it?!”
Howie stepped back, dropping his hand. “You know the answer to that question.”
JC tensed as his mind rebelled. Lance wouldn’t lie to him. Lance was jealous of him, but Lance wouldn’t lie to him. Lance was trying to keep the group together. Trying to get them to look out for themselves. Lance wouldn’t lie about Howie. Lance wouldn’t lie about anything, to him.
But Lance was jealous. If JC didn’t trust Howie, and he and Howie started fighting, and their partnership came apart, that would be great for Lance.
Lance was never going to accept JC taking his place. JC didn’t blame him for it, but it did give him reason to sabotage JC and Howie’s partnership.
Lance wouldn’t do that. Lance was a good guy, very loyal. They’d just talked about how much their friendship meant to them. Lance wouldn’t lie to him.
JC would do anything for Nick. He’d lie for Nick. Even if he had to lie to his best friends. He couldn’t assume that the same wasn’t true of Lance when it came to Howie.
The way Lance had reacted to his question about giving Howie a ring, JC knew that there was more to Lance and Howie’s relationship than he’d known. It definitely gave credence to the idea that Lance had given Howie all of that jewelry.
“Lance wouldn’t lie to me,” JC said.
“Yes, he would,” Howie said. “I know that he has.”
“Only if he had to,” JC said. “Only for you.”
“Lance thinks that he’s in love with me,” Howie said. “As long as you and I are together, you’re not his friend. You’re his enemy.”
“Lance and I could never be enemies,” JC said immediately. The idea was so ridiculous it was offensive. “Lance loves you, but he also loves me, and he knows that I love him. We’re not going to become enemies just because of you. Lance knows that you don’t mean anything to me.”
“Don’t mean anything,” Howie repeated in a rough whisper, turning away. His back to JC, his head lowered, he put a hand to the wall. “Don’t mean anything.” Pivoting suddenly, he stared at JC with hot passion. “I thought that you were deep, JC, I thought that you felt things, saw things, understood things that not everyone else did or even could. You’re passionate and sensual, you’re artistic and rich with sexuality. I thought that we understood each other so well and shared so much. Now you’re telling me that none of it meant anything to you?” he demanded. “You could go through all of this with me, all of this time, and feel nothing?!”
“I don’t love you,” JC said. “You can’t make me.” The words sounded ridiculous to his own ears, but they were said in desperate self-defense. Howie hadn’t mentioned love, hadn’t said a word about it, hadn’t asked that from him, but somehow he knew, he just knew, that it was what Howie wanted.
“You’re a shallow bitch!” Howie shouted, stepping forward. “You’re a cheap pathetic manipulative cold shallow bitch!”
JC backed up, shocked by Howie’s intensity, by the wealth of emotion: rage, betrayal, pain.
“What was I sharing?” Howie demanded. “Who the hell was I sharing it with?! Who was in bed with me, JC? Who was in L.A. with me? Who did I spend every day with and make plans with and show off to my friends?”
JC’s thoughts were a riot of confusion, but he grasped at one main idea. “You can’t make this an attack on me. This isn’t about who I am, this is about who you are. The only person I’m manipulating is Erik. I’ve been honest with you, Howie, but you’ve been lying to me.”
“I’m not lying!” Howie shouted. He grabbed JC’s arms, staring right into JC’s eyes. “I’m not lying!” His voice was lower in volume but thick with force when he brought JC’s hands flat against his chest. “I’m not lying.” His gaze pierced right through JC as his tone softened, his heart pounding against JC’s palm, his hands sliding up JC’s arms. “I’m not lying to you, JC.”
“You’re relentless,” JC said, his voice hushed, his mind wondering, his hands feeling the urge to move, to stroke, to touch.
“If you want to stay in this game, you have to stay with me,” Howie said. “We’ll never get Erik separately. Either we do it as a team, or I do it myself and you leave.”
“I’ve come too far,” JC said. It was true. He couldn’t walk away now. He’d given up too much; he had to see it through.
“Then we have to work this out,” Howie said. “We have to be able to work together. You can’t come to me with suspicions and accusations every time you talk to Lance.”
“Don’t blame him for this,” JC said.
“You’re so loyal to him,” Howie said, proud and regretful at once.
“He’s loyal to me,” JC said. Howie didn’t think so, or Howie didn’t want him to think so. But JC refused to give in.
“What are we going to do?” Howie asked. “What can I do for you? What do you need from me to make this happen?”
JC pulled back, slipping free from Howie physically, if not emotionally. “We can work together in front of Erik without dealing with each other outside of that.”
“No, we can’t,” Howie said, shaking his head in frustration. “You and I have grown into a close friendship, and Erik knows that. If that changes, he’ll sense it, he’ll be able to tell. It’s the little things, JC, the way we look at each other, the way we touch each other, our tone of voice, everything. We can’t fake that. He’s going to be around us too often.”
“Then what do you want?” JC demanded. “If you’re a manipulative, lying bastard and I’m a cold, shallow bitch, what are we supposed to do?”
“I have an idea about that,” Howie said. “We could tell Erik the truth. We could tell him that we’ve had a fight. It’ll give us a chance to use our anger productively. He’ll be caught up trying to reunite us.”
JC had to admit that it might work. “What are we fighting about?”
“You’re jealous of my former lover,” Howie said. “Or, if you don’t like that, I’ll be jealous of your former lover.”
“How are we going to resolve it?” JC asked.
Howie smiled. “That’s Erik’s problem.”
JC liked it. He could avoid Howie and still work on Erik. Considering his other options, it sounded like this one would be the perfect solution.
Justin was on his back on Joey’s sofa. Chris was facedown on Joey’s floor.
“You guys going to be okay?” Joey asked from the doorway.
“Don’t we look okay?” Justin asked.
Joey took a good look at them. “No.”
Chris laughed into the carpet.
“We’ll be fine,” Justin said. “We promise not to leave.”
“Unless we’re summoned,” Chris added.
“We’ll stay right here where we’re safe,” Justin said. “We won’t play with matches or run with scissors.”
“Okay,” Joey said warily. “Call me and the other guys if anything…happens.”
“Okay,” Chris said cheerfully without raising his head.
“I’ll try not to be gone long,” Joey said, and left.
“I get the feeling that no one trusts us alone,” Justin said.
“I wonder why that is,” Chris mused.
Justin laughed.
Chris rolled onto his back. “Want to talk about cute boys?”
“He wouldn’t look at me,” Justin said. “The whole time he was in Lance’s house, he wouldn’t look at me, not once.”
“Brian looked at me,” Chris said. “He looked right at me, and he talked to me, and he smiled at me but it was a pity smile.”
“He said that it was for my own good,” Justin said. “He said that he wanted to make things better for me.”
“I told him that I love him,” Chris said.
“He cut me off because he wants what’s best for me.”
“He said that it was good to see me.”
“I don’t know if he meant it. What if he meant it?”
“Good to see me. Good to see me. It’s a pleasant experience to see me. He likes to look at me. He enjoys the sight of me.”
“What if Kevin cares about me?”
“I want to make love to him,” Chris said. “When I’m inside him, I know what’s real. I know it’s really happening and I know he’s there with me and I know I’m not imagining it.”
Something in Chris’s tone of voice tugged Justin from his own consuming thoughts and made him listen to what Chris was saying. “Imagining it?”
“I don’t always know what’s real.” Chris said it like an acceptable fact. “I can’t trust my own memories.”
Justin sat up, frowning at him. “Why not?”
“Sometimes what I think happened doesn’t match what Brian says happened,” Chris said.
“That means he’s lying,” Justin said.
Chris shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”
“How hard is it to get four people in one place?” Dan asked Trevor, standing by the front door. “Erik!”
“One minute!” Erik called.
“What is he doing in the kitchen?” Dan asked Trevor. “What are you doing in the kitchen?” he asked Erik directly, raising his voice. “We’re on our way to a restaurant!”
“I’m hungry now!” Erik called back.
“Get over here!” Dan checked his watch. “Where’s Ashley?”
“I’m sorry, guys,” Ashley said, coming into the foyer. “Joey just called. He’s on his way over. Can I get a rain check?”
Dan’s first thought was to invite Ashley to bring Joey along, but quickly he realized that having Chris’s best friend there might be at cross-purposes with their plan to cheer up Trevor. “Sure,” he said.
“You’re not coming?” Erik asked, joining them.
“Joey’s coming over,” Ashley said. “I want to talk to him about Justin.”
“Hey, with the house to yourself, you and Joey can…talk…in any room you want,” Erik said with a grin.
“Jacob will love coming home to that,” Dan said.
“Try the pool,” Erik advised.
“Don’t you dare,” Dan said.
“Have you had sex in the pool?” Ashley asked Erik.
“Not ours,” Erik said. “I had sex in Jacob’s room, though.”
“What?” Trevor asked. Ashley looked shocked. Dan wanted to laugh.
“Yeah,” Erik said. “Don’t tell him, he’d kill me.”
“Stay out of Jacob’s room,” Dan told Ashley.
“No problem,” Ashley said quickly. “You guys have a great time,” he added.
“We will,” Dan said with a smile, opening the front door.
“I have to hear more about this,” Trevor said to Erik. “Why were you in Jacob’s room?”
He was, “god, take it,” so close, his body, “uh, uh, god,” ached from the need to come, his, “hold on, damn it, oh, yes,” dick was locked in perpetual motion, fucking and fucking, so close to “ah, ah, yes, yes,” orgasm that “don’t, don’t, oh, god,” he could feel it building, right there in his - - “oh oh oh god!” Lance came, brain squealing, muscles locking. Ecstasy raged through him, leaving him wrecked and gasping. Limply, he pushed Jacob away, rolling over and panting for air.
Jacob was muttering something, but Lance didn’t care what it was.
Maybe he was slipping, but after fucking Howie and Jacob several times
back-to-back, he was exhausted. He couldn’t have moved if he’d tried. Giving
in to fatigue, he closed his eyes to give his body a chance to recuperate,
intending to get up in just another minute to throw Jacob out.
Ashley greeted him with a warm kiss, stroking his beard and smiling into his eyes. “How’ve you been?”
“Not bad,” Joey said, running his hands over Ashley’s sides. “How about you?”
“Okay,” Ashley said. Concern filled his eyes. “How’s Justin?”
“He’s okay,” Joey said. “He always manages to pull himself back together. He always makes it through, somehow. I don’t know how he does it.”
“I’m really sorry,” Ashley said. He did look authentically worried about Justin, like he wanted to do something to help.
Ashley was a good kid. An incredible whore, but not a bad person. “I’m sorry I wasn’t,” he searched quickly for the appropriate touchy-feely phrase, “here for you. I wanted to know that you were all right, but I shouldn’t have sent Nick in my place, I should have-”
“No,” Ashley said, turning an interesting shade of red. “Don’t worry about it. Justin needed you.”
“I’m here now,” Joey said, caressing Ashley’s cheek with his thumb.
Quiet, teasing pleasure filled Ashley’s smile. “I’m glad.” His kiss was tender. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Joey murmured, kissing him slowly. Joey’s hands slid down Ashley’s back, gently squeezing his ass. Ashley moaned in immediate response, pressing closer. “I want you.” While Ashley moaned again, it occurred to Joey that the house was unusually quiet. “Where is everybody?”
“Out,” Ashley said, distracted, nuzzling his beard and rubbing his chest.
“We’re alone?” Joey asked.
Ashley smiled at him, running a provocative finger around his nipple. “Yes.”
Joey grinned, already keeping Ashley close and backing towards the living room.
“No, no,” Ashley said, laughing, digging his heels in. “My room.”
“No one’s here,” Joey said, sliding his hands under Ashley’s T-shirt, stroking smooth skin. “We can make love anywhere we want.”
“I don’t know when they’re coming back,” Ashley said.
“We’ll be quick,” Joey said, urging Ashley against his arousal.
“I don’t want Jacob to walk in on us.” Ashley moaned softly, eyes closing briefly as his hand cupped Joey’s dick through his pants. “Come up…to my…room,” he breathed, rubbing Joey’s arousal, making Joey’s knees tremble. Joey kissed him, groaning softly, hot with lust. “We can make as much noise as we want.”
Joey found it hard to leave Ashley’s mouth. “Are you going to scream for me, pretty?”
Ashley’s moan was accompanied by the rip of a zipper as Ashley opened Joey’s fly. “Oh god,” Ashley groaned, his fingers greedy over Joey’s erection. “As loud as you want.”
JC had told himself that he was happy with Howie. He’d told himself that Howie really cared, that all of those whispered affections were true.
He’d been lying to himself as thoroughly as Howie had been lying to him.
After they finalized their plans about Erik, JC showed Howie to the door. He didn’t bother to be pleasant.
“I’ll call Erik tonight,” Howie said.
JC nodded, impatient for Howie to leave.
Howie put his hand out, as though he intended to touch JC’s chest, then thought better of it. “I’m not Nick,” he said, his voice quiet and firm. “You can’t treat me like I’m out to get you.”
“I’m not Lance,” JC said, opening the door. “You can’t treat me like shit.”
“You really have no idea how I treated Lance,” Howie said.
“What was that ring?” JC asked. “You said it was a Christmas gift. Was it? Was it given out of love? Was it given out of desperation? What did it mean to you?”
Howie’s voice was calm, and even softer. “It’s just a ring, JC. It doesn’t mean anything,” Howie said, and left.
Joey gave in and went up to Ashley’s bedroom. Ashley hadn’t had his dick in too long, and it was obvious. Joey fucked him long and hard, moving through several positions, and Ashley only got louder and wilder. He made good on his promise to scream. Ashley had a way of crying out, “Fuck me, Joey, Joey, fuck me!” that gripped Joey where it hurt and made him need to satisfy Ashley’s lust.
After a few minutes of calm, they were making out again, kissing and rubbing against each other. Joey was always in the mood for more, but Ashley was downright insatiable. Ashley’s nipples were overly sensitive; he twitched whenever Joey paid them any attention, and there were still sex marks on his body from before.
Rolling on top of Ashley, Joey hiked Ashley’s legs up around his waist and sucked wetly on Ashley’s neck. “You’re so hot, pretty.” Moaning his name, Ashley panted into his ear and pulled on his ass, trying to get his dick closer. “I love the way you want me.”
“Joey…” Ashley kissed him passionately, thighs tightening around him. “Let me do this for you, let me make it good.”
“Do what for me, baby?” Joey asked, sucking on his sweet kiss and stroking the sweat from his skin.
In excruciatingly erotic detail, Ashley described what he wanted. His words were explicit with sex, his voice thick with lust, his touch burning across Joey’s flesh. When he softly breathed, “Can I?” his eyes were full of innocent desire at odds with the wanton suffering evident in the twist of his hips and the arch of his back.
Rock-hard merely from being asked about it, on fire with anticipation, Joey wasted no time in rolling onto his back and setting Ashley astride his hips. He hadn’t initiated this position yet because, while he sometimes enjoyed being ridden, he’d unconsciously wanted to maintain a more active, aggressive role with Ashley; they were both men, but he wanted it clear who was in charge.
But, now that Ashley had brought it up in such a very…appealing fashion, Joey was more than eager for it.
Ashley had such a natural, instinctive aptitude for sex, Joey looked forward to finding out exactly how well he could ride.
In the car on the way to the restaurant, Erik told them about having sex with Lisa Montgomery on Jacob’s bed. While they waited to order, he told them about having sex with Kelly Powell in her mother’s kitchen. During the salad course, he told them about Ashley and the wannabe trapeze artist.
The stories were told with Erik’s usual comedic-dramatic flair, and Trevor laughed the whole way through. Dan knew that Erik was not only entertaining but intentionally trying to cheer Trevor up and keep his mind off of Chris, and it was working beautifully.
While Trevor was in the bathroom, Dan called Erik on it and asked him if the Kelly story was even halfway true.
Erik grinned. “If it’s not, she can’t prove it.”
JC rolled Howie’s ring across his palm. He’d taken it and the watch from Howie’s house when he’d left. They were from Lance, they’d been given in love, and he couldn’t stand the thought of them being abused, even in spirit.
Howie didn’t love Lance. Howie was flaunting Lance’s love. It was just another betrayal.
JC was going to hold them, to keep them safe. Howie hadn’t even asked about them; maybe Howie assumed that he had them, maybe Howie didn’t care.
They were gifts from Lance’s heart.
He didn’t know if Lance had ever proposed, if the idea had even occurred to Lance. He didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to ask. It was too personal of a thing; he respected Lance’s privacy. If Lance had proposed, it was more than obvious that it hadn’t worked out, and JC refused to intrude upon what would have to be a very painful memory.
He had too many painful memories of his own.
Throughout the meal, they avoided bringing up Chris or any of his friends. Dan and Erik kept the conversation rolling so that Trevor’s thoughts wouldn’t have a chance to wander. Then, Trevor asked Dan, “Have you talked to Justin?”
“Not today,” Dan said. “When I talked to him last night, he was still with the other guys at Lance’s house. They’ve really rallied around him.”
“You think that’ll be enough?” Erik asked.
“I wish it could be,” Dan said. “Right now, it just seems like too little, too late. AJ already has his hold on Justin, and it doesn’t sound like they’ve ever stepped in to keep Justin safe. Sometimes it seems like…”
“Like?” Erik prompted, curious.
Dan hesitated from assuming too great a responsibility for Justin’s well-being, but he’d already been placed in that position. “I’m the only thing standing between AJ and Justin. I’m the only barrier Justin has, so I have to be the strongest barrier I can. Sometimes that means being strong when Justin can’t be. I know that I can’t fight his battles for him, but he’s so vulnerable to AJ, and AJ’s so ferocious. This isn’t just AJ versus Justin, this is a panther stalking wounded prey.”
“What does that make you?” Trevor asked.
Dan wondered that sometimes, himself. “I’m whatever I have to be to keep Justin safe.”
Lance dreamt of Howie.
Jacob dreamt of Brian.
In sleep, their bodies found each other, unconsciously seeking another’s love.
Joey was so turned on his feet were sweating, and so close to orgasm he couldn’t uncurl his fingers. Mindlessly groaning, he stared at Ashley, afraid to miss even a second of the pornographic display.
He’d never seen anyone respond to fucking so…completely. It was like every inch of Ashley was experiencing intense erotic pleasure, like sex had overtaken Ashley’s body.
The hot squeeze of Ashley’s ass working over his dick felt incredible, pumped him expertly, but that was only the beginning. Ashley’s hips rolled in constant action, his body undulating; it was like watching sex wash through Ashley’s body, one wave after another. His hands were in continual motion, too, rubbing his own thighs, stroking his chest, teasing his erect nipples, rolling his balls. His moans were loud and urgent, each one more desperate than the next as he rocked faster on Joey’s dick.
The sight of Ashley fisting his erection, pleasuring himself, trying to get himself off as Joey’s dick plunged deep, made Joey grab Ashley’s hips, setting the pace himself. Groaning wildly, Ashley threw his head back, jacking his dick desperately with one hand, calling out Joey’s name. His other hand slid up his chest, pausing to pinch each nipple before continuing up, rising over his neck. Ashley stroked his own jaw before rubbing a thumb across his mouth, one finger slipping in, then a second.
“Suck it,” Joey commanded hoarsely, bracing his feet and fucking upward, making Ashley cry out again.
“Joey, Joey, please…” Ashley moaned, his hand moving quickly over his dick, writhing like each thrust was a new level of ecstasy. Sucking as greedily on his own fingers as if they were Joey’s erection, he was a victim of uncontrollable need.
Joey wanted to get Ashley off first, but he almost couldn’t wait. The pumping of his dick, the rocking of his hips, the sight of Ashley’s passion, the knowledge of Ashley’s need - - with a sudden jerk and shove, Joey was on top, over Ashley’s body, rutting feverishly. Begging, moaning, Ashley came under him, convulsing around his erection, arching and shuddering. Finally able to give in, Joey came with a harsh groan, jerking Ashley down onto him and then pulling out, shooting cum up over Ashley’s chest, feeling a sudden release of hot, consuming, lust.
Still shivering, still panting, Ashley gazed up at him, lips parted.
“God, I love you,” Joey said, and kissed him.
Justin and Chris got out Joey’s board games and faced each other across the coffee table. After Chris won Uno and Justin won Monopoly, they played checkers. When the doorbell rang, they thumb-wrestled to decide to who would answer it. They weren’t fast enough; they were still in mid-struggle when JC walked into the room.
“Hi, JC,” Chris said, his gaze on their joined hands.
“Hi, JC,” Justin said, glaring at Chris’s thumb.
“Joey went to see Ashley?” JC guessed.
“Yeah,” Chris said, rising onto his knees.
“How’s it going?” JC asked.
“Want to play Scrabble?” Justin asked, still focused on Chris, climbing over the table.
“Double points for X-rated words,” Chris said, getting to his feet, determined not to let Justin win. Distracted by Chris and their competition, Justin bumped into the table and fell, scattering checkers. Chris snorted.
“Graceful, J.,” JC said. “Let’s play Scrabble.”
Joey had to get back; he didn’t like the thought of leaving Justin and Chris alone for too long. After a quick shower, he got dressed, and Ashley walked him downstairs.
“I know Justin probably only wants his friends around him right now,” Ashley said. “But could I come with you?”
“Maybe next time, pretty,” Joey said. “I’d like you to spend some time with my friends, but Justin’s not ready for that right now.” He kissed Ashley’s cheek, smoothing it with a gentle touch. “I’d like you to spend more time with me, too.” He kissed Ashley’s other cheek. “I wish I could take you out, show you off, but Nick…” He ended his sentence on a sigh.
“That’s okay,” Ashley said, giving him a slow kiss. “I understand.”
“So pretty,” Joey said, savoring the sweet taste of him. “I’ll call you.”
“Mmm…” Ashley stroked his beard, backing away. “Tell Justin that Jacob’s really sorry about what happened.”
“Is he?” Joey asked.
Ashley’s smile suggested that he knew every one of Jacob’s faults and loved them all. “No, but it might happen someday.”
They were on their way back when Erik’s phone rang. Taking one hand off of the steering wheel, he checked the display. “Oh, now you want to talk?” he asked.
“Who is it?” Dan asked.
“Nobody,” Erik said, tucking his phone away again. “I’ll call back later.”
Jacob wakened to find himself in an intimate embrace with his sworn enemy. Repulsed, he delicately twisted free, not wanting to waken Lance and be forced to discuss it. Leaving the bedroom in search of his clothes, his skin itched where Lance’s hands had been.
When they got home, Erik casually went upstairs as quickly as possible, closing his door and dialing Howie’s number.
“Erik-Michael?”
“Hey,” Erik said. He wanted to demand, “Where have you been?” but decided against it. “You called?” he asked, playing it cool. If Howie and JC wanted to stand him up and ignore his calls, that was up to them, but he didn’t have to snap to attention when they chose to acknowledge his presence.
“I’m so sorry about the other day,” Howie said. “JC and I…”
Erik waited for the rest of the words, but Howie stopped talking, and then Erik heard the slightest, slightest catch of breath. Having sex with Howie had trained him to tune in to even the quietest of sounds, and the brief hitch in breathing caught Erik’s attention. “You and JC what?”
“We didn’t mean to stand you up,” Howie said. “Right after I asked you to come over, we had a fight, and I couldn’t stay there with him, I couldn’t even be in the same house with him anymore. I hoped that we could work things out before we talked to you again, but it looks like it would be pointless to wait that long.”
“Wait,” Erik said, shocked. “You had a fight? Are you… Did you…” They couldn’t have broken up, that wasn’t possible.
“Would you be able to come over?” Howie asked. “It’s hard enough being separated from JC without missing you, too.”
God. “I’ll be right there,” Erik said, already in motion.
Lance wakened, sitting up and looking around for Jacob. He was alone. The bitch must have left. Thank god.
He pushed away dreams of Howie and hazy sensory impressions of a
slender form in his arms, getting out of bed. He needed to check on the guys.
JC sighed, sitting back and watching. “I give up,” he announced, as Chris stole more letters.
“Okay,” Justin said, hunting for another V.
“Hey,” Joey said, coming in and sitting companionably beside JC. “What’s going on?”
“We’re not using any of the J’s,” Chris said. “I need some of the A’s, though.”
“Okay,” Joey said. “Why do I care?”
Justin put an A and a J together and slid them across the table towards Joey. “Go crazy,” he invited, reaching for a stray K.
Dan drummed his fingers on the kitchen table.
Jacob walked in with a scowl, yanking open the refrigerator door with an angrily muttered, “God, I’m starving.” Apparently Jacob was in one of his inexplicably bad moods again. Dan wondered where he’d gone that had him this pissed off, but knew better than to ask.
“Which is better?” Dan asked. “A strong offense or a strong defense?”
Jacob gave him a brief glare for speaking, then opened the freezer door. “Offense,” Jacob said impatiently. “You have to stop the other team from scoring, but you’re not going to win unless you make some touchdowns of your own.”
Dan nodded, not letting Jacob’s tone rile him. “You are wise, young Underwood.”
“Hey,” Jacob muttered, slamming the door shut and leaving the room, “one of us has to be.”
“It’s good to see you,” Howie said, closing the door and gracing him with a chaste kiss.
“You, too,” Erik said, putting his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t touch. “What happened with you and JC?”
“It’s my fault,” Howie said with a sigh. Erik followed him to the front room, taking a seat beside him on the sofa. “Do you remember asking me about one of my rings?”
“The diamond one?” Erik asked.
“That one.” Howie rested his elbow against the back of the sofa, threading his fingers through his hair. “It’s from a former lover. I don’t have a real sentimental attachment to it. I don’t even think of it as a symbol of our relationship. It’s just a ring, and I like it.”
“It’s terrific,” Erik said. It looked insanely expensive.
“The man who gave it to me was my last lover, before JC. JC knows all about him, they’ve even met each other. I don’t even think about him anymore. You know how much I love JC.”
The soft ache in Howie’s voice on those last words made Erik nod like an idiot. “I know,” he agreed, like if he confirmed their love firmly enough they’d get back together. He still didn’t believe that there could be a real problem between them; it had to be a temporary fight, some stupid ego thing that they’d get over in another twenty-four hours.
Howie rested one hand on Erik’s bared forearm for no obvious reason. Erik maintained eye contact, willing himself not to look down at it. “He called,” Howie said. “He’s in town, and he wanted to get together, just to say hi. I would have liked to see him again, but JC and I had other plans, so I said no, and we said good-bye, and I hung up.”
“Okay,” Erik said. No problems so far.
“JC overheard my side of the conversation,” Howie said. He grimaced. “Apparently, I sounded a little too friendly.”
“You told the guy you couldn’t see him,” Erik said. Friendly or not, Howie had blown him off.
“JC seems to think that I have a unique way of saying ‘sorry, no’ in a voice that says, ‘please come over and make love to me.’”
Erik frowned. “JC thinks you were leading the guy on?”
“Yes,” Howie said. He didn’t look pleased about that at all. “I told JC that I’d said that I couldn’t see James - - he heard it all for himself. But he said I was just playing hard to get.”
Erik wanted to back Howie up, but JC might have had a point. In his own experience with Howie, he had to admit that Howie had a way of, well… Making people chase him. Not that Erik hadn’t enjoyed it.
“We had a fight,” Howie said simply. He looked down, rubbing Erik’s arm for a moment. “I went to see him today, but that didn’t go too well.”
“How bad is it?” Erik asked.
“As of today,” Howie’s smile was painful, “we’re barely speaking to each other.”
Dan dialed. The phone rang.
“Danny boy,” AJ said.
Sexual disgust crawled up Dan’s spine. “I want to see you.”
“I might be able to make myself available,” AJ said slowly, his tone pondering.
“Now,” Dan said.
“Why, Daniel,” AJ said. “Are you ordering me around?”
“Yes,” Dan snapped. “I’m on my way,” he said, and hung up.
Erik needed more details. “What’s the deal with James?”
Howie poured coffee, handing Erik a cup across the kitchen table. “We had a very serious relationship. The longest and closest I ever had, before JC. He’s six years younger than I am, your age. Blond hair, green eyes. He was managing a few new acts, and he had two of them at one of those seasonal music festivals we were performing at.”
“So what happened?” Erik asked.
Howie joined Erik at the table, taking a slow sip. “Things didn’t work out.” He shrugged, curling his hands around his cup. “At the time, it seemed like everything fell apart without any real reason. Looking back…” Howie winced. “I hate to say it, and I know how this sounds, but I think that he was threatened by my level of success. I know that he couldn’t afford that ring, but he thought that he needed to give it to me, to prove that he could.”
“Have you seen him since you broke up?”
“No,” Howie said. “I haven’t talked to him at all. I was surprised when he called.” Howie looked down at his hands, running idle fingers over where the ring had been. “Ever since I started dating JC, there hasn’t been anyone else. I haven’t had sex with anyone else, kissed anyone else, dated anyone else.” His gaze lifted. “Except you.”
It seemed like a large responsibility, now. And… “Do you think that… Is that why JC thinks - - does that make it look like…” He didn’t know how to explain it.
“No,” Howie said. “No, it’s not your fault.” He rubbed his forehead, looking frustrated. “It must be my fault.”
“It sounds like a normal misunderstanding,” Erik said.
“JC thinks that I want to cheat on him,” Howie said.
“He has to know that you wouldn’t,” Erik said. It didn’t make sense. “He has to know you’re in love with him.”
“Maybe… Maybe there’s more to it,” Howie said.
When Howie didn’t continue with that thought, Erik’s gaze searched Howie’s face for clues. “More like what?” he asked when Howie remained silent.
“I’ve… I brought up… I’ve tried not to push,” Howie said. “Maybe I’m being ridiculous. I know it’s not even possible.”
“What are you talking about?” Erik asked, wanting to understand.
“I’ve tried to talk to JC about making a larger commitment,” Howie admitted. “Nothing specific, and I haven’t pushed him, I just mentioned it.”
“You mean…marriage?” Erik asked, almost whispering the word.
“Nothing that official,” Howie said. “But being with JC feels so right… I don’t see anything wrong with committing to each other.”
“But you’re already lovers,” Erik said.
“We can be more than that,” Howie said. “It’s so hard, Erik, it’s so frustrating - - we can’t get married, we can’t even really live together, we have to keep up so many pretenses… If we can’t make anything official or public, I want to know in my heart that JC and I are together for life, that we’re making a permanent bond. He isn’t willing to give that to me.”
“You know he loves you,” Erik said. God, they were perfect together. They were meant for each other. Erik couldn’t imagine either of them with anyone else. Maybe that was a stupid thought to have; they’d let him edge into their relationship, which suggested that they were open to being with other people. But he knew them, he’d seen them together up close and in detail, and he knew better than anyone else could how amazing they were together.
“Maybe he isn’t willing to get closer to me because he doesn’t trust me,” Howie said. “Or maybe he’s using James as an excuse to leave me. I don’t know why he thinks I’d want James. I’ve never cheated on JC.”
“You said James was a pretty serious relationship,” Erik said. “Maybe JC’s threatened or something, if he knows how close you and James were.”
“I don’t want to put you in the middle,” Howie said. “I’d never ask you to take sides. I know that JC misses you as much as I do. If he and I aren’t seeing each other, that doesn’t mean you can’t freely visit both of us.”
“Okay,” Erik said. What was his role now? Mutual friend? If they weren’t together, what did that mean for him? He couldn’t in good conscience try to get laid; if Howie couldn’t fuck JC, wouldn’t it be unethical for him to fuck JC?
“I hope you don’t mind that…we talked about it,” Howie said, “and we agreed that we’d like to… If you’re comfortable with it, we’d like to continue to make love with you. Separately.”
Oh. He wondered how that conversation had gone. “Are you sure about that?” Erik asked. As thrilling as it would be to get JC or Howie all to himself, it still didn’t come across as good news. He didn’t want them separately; he wanted them to get back together.
“Yes,” Howie said. “Even if we’re not together, you’re still a big part of our lives.”
He had to be sure. “This is just a fight, isn’t it? You didn’t actually break up.”
“Just a fight,” Howie confirmed, stroking Erik’s forearm. “So far.”
Joey opened the front door and invited Lance into the house. “You look beat.”
“It’s been such a weird, stupid day,” Lance said. “I was fucking Jacob, I feel totally wrecked.”
“Everybody’s in the kitchen,” Joey said. “Do you want to go to bed?”
“No, I’m okay,” Lance said, walking with Joey through the house. “How is everybody?”
“Okay, right now,” Joey said. “Justin and Chris haven’t said anything about the whole Kevin, glass-throwing thing, so we’re not bringing it up.”
“Maybe we should,” Lance said.
“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Joey said, stepping into the kitchen.
“Hi,” Lance said.
“Hi, Lance,” Chris said, dropping spaghetti into the pot.
“Hi, Lance,” Justin said, chopping tomatoes.
“Hi, Lance,” JC said, slicing bread.
“You’re making dinner,” Lance said, glancing at Joey.
“We’re being productive,” Justin said.
“Idle hands lead to idle thoughts, and idle thoughts lead to thinking about people we’re in love with who don’t necessarily seem to love us back, and that leads to destructive behavior,” Chris said. “We’re being productive. What’ve you been up to?”
“Fucking Jacob,” Lance said. “You want help with that?”
“Can you find the garlic?” JC asked.
Lance began his search.
“Fucking Jacob?” Chris asked. “How’d that go?”
“He’s a bitch,” Lance said. “Am I looking for garlic powder or actual garlic?”
“Either one, at this point,” Justin said.
“I’d love to fuck Jacob,” Chris said.
“I don’t get that,” Justin said. “You want to fuck Jacob because Brian’s going to fuck him, but I’d never touch Trevor. You don’t want Dan, do you?” he asked Joey.
“Dan?” Joey asked, sounding perplexed. “Why would I want Dan?”
“I sure as hell don’t want Erik,” Lance said.
“I want to claw Ashley’s face off,” JC said.
“Catfight,” Chris said.
Lance eyed the knife JC was holding, wondering how safe that was.
“You know what I like about Ashley?” Chris asked.
“His jaw,” Justin said, opening a jar of sauce.
“And his cheekbones,” Chris said. “His face… It’s almost…”
“Almost,” Justin agreed.
“I never thought about it,” Joey said.
“A strong jaw is so important,” Chris said, sighing.
Lance rolled his eyes, opening another cabinet. “If Kevin and Brian had six toes on each foot, you’d chase six-toed men.”
“I don’t chase men,” Chris said, indignant.
“Sorry,” Lance said. “You’d stalk six-toed men.”
“That’s much better,” Chris said.
“There’s nothing wrong with stalking someone,” Justin said. “If Kevin didn’t like it, he’d make me stop.”
“How?” Joey asked.
“It’s Kevin,” Chris said. “He has his ways.”
AJ followed Dan into the living room. They faced each other. Dan looked tense, angry.
“What are you here to talk about?” AJ asked. “Justin? Jacob?”
“Don’t you ever come to my house again,” Dan snapped. “Don’t you ever touch one of my friends again.”
“What is this, the Mafia?” AJ demanded. “He’s under your protection? He’s an obnoxious little prick! You know what he did to Justin!”
“He didn’t know what he was doing!” Dan argued. “He didn’t know Justin would get that upset!”
“You’re mad at me?! I should be mad at you!” AJ shouted. “What did you do to protect Justin? Why weren’t you the one taking Jacob out?”
“Beating up Jacob isn’t going to solve Justin’s problems!”
“Maybe beating you up would solve mine!” AJ shouted.
“Try it!” Dan yelled back, taking an aggressive step forward.
AJ laughed, so suddenly that Dan looked startled. “Oh, I’ll get mine from you, Danny boy,” he promised. “But I don’t want your blood.” He reached for Dan. “I want your body.”
Dan jerked back, pushing AJ’s hand away. “I came here to talk.”
“Then you’d better start.” AJ stepped back, dropping onto the sofa.
“I need you to agree not to come to my house,” Dan said.
“I can’t do that,” AJ said. “I’ve followed our agreement about not being where Justin is, but I won’t give up access to your house. Brian’s there too often, Howie goes there-”
“You can see them at other places at other times,” Dan said. “You have absolutely no reason to go to my house.”
“You live there,” AJ said.
“So?” Dan asked. “I see you here.”
“I’m not giving it up,” AJ said.
“Can you agree not to assault my friends?” Dan asked.
“Those guys you live with?” AJ asked. “They’re obnoxious assholes.”
“Any problems between you and me have nothing to do with them,” Dan said.
“You want me not to hit them at all, or not to hit first?” AJ asked. “If they hit me, can I hit back?”
“Don’t touch them,” Dan said. “You’re a violent psychopath and you’re freaking them out.”
AJ was on his feet, crowding into Dan’s space, looking deep into Dan’s eyes. “If I were a violent psychopath,” he said, “I’d beat you senseless for a crack like that. But look at me.” His smile was dangerous; ice slid down Dan’s back. “Not even a slap across the face.”
Dan backed up, wary.
AJ closed the distance between them. “If I were a violent psychopath, you and I wouldn’t have this nice little reasonable arrangement.” He braced his hands on Dan’s chest, his glare vicious. “If I were a violent psychopath, Justin wouldn’t be roaming free.” He walked forward, forcing Dan to back up. “If I were a violent psychopath, your friend Jacob wouldn’t be walking.” AJ’s snarl bared his teeth. “I’m a pussycat.”
“If you’re a pussycat, what do you call attacking Jacob?” Dan asked, refusing to show how intimidated he was.
“I call it protecting Justin,” AJ snapped. “I call it doing your job for you.”
“You’re never going to touch my friends again,” Dan said, putting steel in his voice.
“What do I get in return?” AJ asked.
It would have been tremendously satisfying to punch AJ in the face. “Nothing.”
AJ’s hands slid over Dan’s chest; there was threat in the touch. Dan’s nipples hardened. “That’s not how this works,” AJ hissed. “If I agree to this for you, you owe me.”
Dan hated to ask the question, but he had to make this bargain. “What do you want?”
AJ’s fingertips stroked across Dan’s collarbone. “I get you,” he said. “Whenever I want you.”
Dan pulled away, backing around an armchair, keeping it between them. “I’m already selling my body to protect Justin. What more do you want?”
“I want what Justin has,” AJ said, stepping closer to the chair. “I want you.” His hands lashed out, grabbing hold of Dan’s wrists as he knelt on the chair. “Four times. Once for each of your little friends. Four times, without question, I get to fuck you.”
“No,” Dan said.
“Four times,” AJ repeated. “Whenever I call it in, you owe me. Whatever I want, however I want it. Now, or in two weeks, or in ten months. Four. Separate. Times.”
Dan jerked free, backing out of range. “You’re out of your fucking mind.”
“You want to see me do some real damage to Jacob?” AJ asked. “I could tear up Ashley’s pretty face.”
“You can’t blackmail me into sex!”
AJ smiled. “Danny boy, I already have.”
When Howie got a call and left the room, Erik sat on a sinfully soft armchair, turning on the TV. He flipped through the channels, not really seeing anything, thinking about Howie. Thinking about JC.
Everything was fine, old boyfriend resurfaced, Howie turned old boyfriend away, JC got jealous, big fight. It seemed pretty simple, and pretty stupid. JC was overreacting; once JC got over it, everything would be okay again.
Except… Howie did have a weird way of leading people on. If Howie had done some of that in the beginning of his relationship with James, it seemed like maybe James might assume that no didn’t exactly mean no, especially depending on Howie’s tone of voice. Did JC have a right to be angry?
Or, was JC using this fight to get some space? Was Howie trying to get more out of the relationship than JC was willing to give? But it had seemed like they wanted the same things, like JC would be into making more of a commitment, if Howie was.
Maybe Erik was missing something. He only had one side of the argument. He needed to talk to JC.
Part of him - - specifically, his dick and all related hormones - - wanted to stay. Ashley had slept away from the house the night before, so Erik had no problem doing the same thing himself. But he wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable getting naked and nasty with Howie while Howie and JC were fighting. It just didn’t seem like a good idea. No matter how much he wanted it.
Howie came back in, sitting on the wide arm of the chair and leaning against his shoulder. Erik slowed his flipping, wondering what Howie wanted to watch. When he ran across a porn channel he kept going, not really sure if Howie was into watching straight sex or not.
Howie’s hand stroked over his head, caressing the fuzz. It felt good, and Erik shivered, working on keeping it cool and not rubbing into Howie’s touch like a cat. His scalp prickled, and when Howie’s caress traveled to his nape and back up, his dick twitched.
“It’s so funny,” Howie said in a soft, sad voice. His hand drifted down the side of Erik’s face, making Erik’s cheeks flush with heat. “I’ve been with JC for so long, every night… I know that it’s too soon, but I miss his touch. I miss the press of his body in bed with me at night.”
“That makes sense,” Erik said, wondering how to explain that he’d rather not be JC’s temporary replacement in Howie’s bed. If Howie wanted JC, Howie should go get JC. Erik would be more than happy to help them reunite.
“I thought about him last night,” Howie said. “I thought about you, too.” His gaze dropped; his fingers drifted across Erik’s lips. “I thought about…”
Oh, god. Erik clamped his teeth together as a hot, slow wave of lust boiled through him, his dick stiffening. He knew what Howie wanted, he knew what, god, his dick was hard.
“When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel it,” Howie said softly, his touch skimming Erik’s chin. “Your hands, spreading my thighs. Your…”
Erik inhaled quickly, desperately searching for a solution to this problem. He couldn’t just jump up and leave, not now. How much would it hurt if he gave Howie a quick blowjob? JC would be okay with that, right? Maybe?
“I love the feel of your mouth,” Howie breathed, leaning down towards him, one arm braced on the back of the sofa, caressing Erik’s mouth again. “Your lips are so…soft.”
“Howie,” Erik said, to buy time. What could he say? “We can’t do this.” He hurried on before Howie could react. “I’ve always shared this with both of you. It wouldn’t be right to do this without JC.” Even when he’d been alone with one of them, it had always been understood that the other one was a part of the relationship, an unseen presence. Now, with the status of Howie and JC’s relationship a little less certain, he couldn’t afford to make one misstep. “If you want to be with someone, you should be with JC.” Erik held his breath, waiting for a response.
Sadness crept into Howie’s eyes. Regret. Understanding. His hand stroked slowly down Erik’s chest. “I’m not only seeking comfort with you,” he said quietly, meeting Erik’s eyes. “I’ve always wanted you.”
“I know,” he said. “But…” Damn, it was hard to think of logical arguments when Howie was looking at him with desire and touching him with intent.
“JC and I agreed that we wanted each other to have full access to you,” Howie said. “We’re angry with each other, not with you.” Howie caressed the side of Erik’s neck, stroking the line of Erik’s jaw. “Right now, I think we need you more than ever.”
Erik swallowed. His body was way too charged up, and Howie was way too persuasive. “Okay.” Howie smiled, and Erik’s body temperature increased drastically. When Howie took his hand, easing down from the armrest, Erik followed Howie to the bedroom immediately, already hard and ready to- “Wait,” he said suddenly, needing to make one last decision before his hormones took over. “I don’t want you to be alone tonight, but I want to see JC. Should I stay with you, or go see him, or see him and then come back, or-”
“When we’re…finished, you can call him,” Howie said. “If he’s available, you should go see him, and stay with him tonight.” Howie’s thumb passed over his lower lip; Howie’s eyes were dark with rapidly focused desire. “If he’s not,” Howie was much closer and Howie’s hands were on his shoulders, “I want you with me,” and Howie’s mouth was on his.
He kissed Howie, tongue stroking tongue, instinctively bringing Howie’s body against his erection. Howie’s hands stroked the back of his neck, rubbed his arms, urged him closer as he sucked greedily on Howie’s tongue. Howie was hard, too, and Erik groaned at the feel of it, his hands gripping just under Howie’s ass and lifting slightly to get Howie at the right angle, rocking dick to dick. He’d forgotten to breathe and he was running out of air; when he broke the kiss to suck in fresh oxygen, Howie whispered, “Erik-Michael,” in an aroused, wanting voice and kissed him hungrily.
God, he was hard. When Howie tugged he went forward, willing to go anywhere Howie or his dick wanted. When Howie leaned back, pulling on his shoulders, he went with it; when he ended up horizontal, on top of Howie on the bed, he was so busy grinding feverishly against Howie’s erection that he barely had enough resources left for kissing and groping, much less thinking. When he got a hand over Howie’s fly, Howie’s hard-on thick against his palm, Howie stopped licking his mouth to gasp, hands tightening on his ass.
He’d tried to be good, he’d tried to be noble, but Erik had been insane to think that he’d get out of Howie’s house without satisfying Howie’s need. Howie missed JC, Howie’s body needed a man’s touch, and Erik had been screwed the second Howie had opened the door.
Pulling open Howie’s fly, Erik pushed Howie’s shirt up, tugging Howie’s pants down and sliding down Howie’s body. He slowly, deliberately spread Howie’s thighs, stroking the muscle, and Howie rewarded him with a soft half-moan that made his blood pound. God, Howie wanted it, and Erik couldn’t wait to suck Howie’s gorgeous dick.
He kissed the way JC and Howie had taught him, he gave head the way they’d taught him, he made love the way they’d taught him - - everything in his current sexual repertoire was tailor-made for them, so when he jacked Howie’s swollen erection, he had no trouble finding the perfect angle to make Howie sweat. Smearing the pre-cum down from the head, Erik listened to Howie’s soft, pleased breathing and licked his lips, getting ready.
The minute he started licking, he heard a slow, hot, “Erik-Michael,” and Howie’s hand caressed his scalp. Oh, yeah, Howie wanted it. Howie’s erection was hard and eager for his tongue; the ache in Howie’s breath made Erik start to moan a little, too, awkwardly opening his pants one-handed and rocking his dick into the mattress. He was so hard he could barely concentrate on what he was doing; it was difficult to focus on getting Howie off when his own dick demanded attention.
Howie was breathing faster now, and when Erik sucked at the head, Howie’s soft sigh of pleasure made Erik groan. Speeding up his hand, he sucked harder, taking more into his mouth, taking Howie down his throat in a steady rhythm. He was moaning around Howie’s dick and swallowing hungrily and humping the mattress and it was all so fucking worth it because Howie came, coating his throat.
“Hmmm… Erik-Michael.” Howie’s voice was smooth and satisfied, and the hand stroking Erik’s hair became affectionate, lazy.
Erik kissed Howie’s stomach, licking softly, stroking Howie’s thighs. He wanted to drive his dick into something, to thrust, to fuck, but JC wasn’t there. He wanted so badly to explore between Howie’s parted thighs and find his satisfaction there - - if he could just-
Howie’s soft sigh of contentment brought him back to the moment. Erik crawled up Howie’s body, welcomed by a warm embrace and even warmer kisses. When he rubbed his erection against Howie’s stomach, Howie ground up against it, gripping the backs of his thighs and urging him onward. Groaning, hips rocking, Erik fucked against Howie, driving his dick through a slick slide of his own pre-cum. They were still wearing most of their clothes but he couldn’t stop to take anything off; he was so close, so close, Howie was panting softly and squeezing his ass, he wanted to fuck Howie, he wanted to fuck Howie, he wanted - - “Oh, oh, god, I’m coming, I’m coming, Howie…” Erik groaned, managing to get cum on both his shirt and Howie’s.
Howie’s kiss grounded him while Howie’s stroking hands settled him back into his body. Once he felt capable of speech again, Erik pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked down. “Sorry I, uh,” shit, he had to wear a cum-splattered shirt home. Or, even worse, to JC’s front door.
“Do you want to borrow something?” Howie asked, lightly stroking his ass.
“Sure. Thanks.” Erik caressed Howie’s stubble, then kissed his cheek. “Are you going to be okay tonight?” Duh, he was an idiot, Howie wasn’t falling apart sobbing over JC, Howie was fine.
“I’d like you to stay,” Howie said, stroking his temple, gaze possessive yet understanding, “but I know that JC wants to see you.”
“Maybe I could spend tomorrow night here,” Erik suggested. He threaded his fingers through Howie’s hair. “Maybe JC could, too.”
Howie smiled and kissed him. “That would be wonderful.” Another soft kiss, and Howie said, “You can take any shirt you want.”
Reluctantly, Erik got off of Howie, leaving the heat of Howie’s body. Pulling his jeans back up, he shed his shirt and went into the closet. He found a T-shirt from Howie’s side, deciding not to show up at JC’s house in JC’s clothes, and pulled it on, walking back to the bedroom.
Absolutely naked, his clothes a neat pile on the floor, Howie rolled onto his side, giving Erik a smile. “You look good.”
“You look fantastic,” Erik said. Damn, Howie was hot. “Maybe I should stay here.”
Sitting up and reaching for him, Howie said, “Go see JC.” Rolling up onto his knees, Howie gave Erik a series of slow, clinging kisses. “Come see me tomorrow.”
“Okay.” Erik loved the softness of Howie’s lips. “Bye.”
“Bye,” Howie murmured, holding him closer.
Erik slid his hands down Howie’s back, cupping Howie’s ass. “Bye,” he repeated vaguely.
“Erik-Michael,” Howie whispered, starting to lean back, tugging him forward.
“I know,” Erik said, pressing Howie back, bracing one hand on the mattress, climbing - - “If we don’t stop this, I’m never going to leave,” he realized.
Howie laughed. “Okay,” Howie said, rubbing his chest. “I’ll let you go.” One more kiss, too long to be chaste. “Good night, Erik-Michael.”
“Good night,” Erik said, climbing back off of Howie. “You’re impossible to resist.”
Howie crawled
gracefully back up to the pillows, settling in with a smile. “Thank you. It
comes in handy.”
Laughing, Erik left.