Sucker

Copyright November 24, 2002-September 9, 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 forty-seven...

Back to the action, the morning after the barbecue...

            What the - - it was morning?  Nick picked up the phone so he could make it stop ringing.  Hell, it wasn’t anybody important, it was just Ashley.  “Angel?”

            “Nick?” Ashley asked.

            “Fuck off.  We’re asleep.”  He hung up, tossing the phone aside.  Damn it.  He’d slept too much yesterday, and now he was awake.  He kissed Joey’s forehead, wondering what he wanted to do while Joey slept.

            Lance was halfway through his coffee when he remembered what he’d told Brian last night.

            He had to call Jacob today.

            He had to…

            Fuck.

            Kevin kissed Chris awake.  Making soft, sleepy, aroused noises, Chris opened to him, drawing him closer, inviting him in.

            Justin wakened with a start, sitting up, gasping.

            “Calm down,” AJ muttered, half-asleep beside him.  “Don’t act like you never had a wet dream before.”

            “What?” Justin asked, disoriented.  AJ.  AJ’s house.  AJ’s bed.  He’d spent the night.

            “You came on yourself,” AJ said.

            “I what?”  Justin looked down.  Oh.  Oh.  Oh, thank god he was in bed with AJ and not with Dan.

            “You woke me up with all of that moaning,” AJ said.

            He didn’t get it.  Good dreams the night before last, sex dreams last night - - and this one he definitely remembered.  He’d been with Kevin, and Kevin had started to kiss him, and...well…  But why now?  He’d been so upset lately, how could he have good dreams?  Usually, the more upset he was, the worse his dreams were.

            But maybe he was so comfortable with AJ, so secure and protected with Dan, that he could finally relax while he slept.  Maybe his brain was using the rare moments of peace to give him something good to think about.  He hadn’t slept comfortably or soundly in so long that he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d done it.

            AJ tugged on his arm until he gave in, lying back down.  “Give Dan a chance to be good to you.  Your mission is to stop freaking out on him and let him help you.  He doesn’t even have the opportunity to use the tips I give him.  Let me prove to him that I know you, that I can help, that he needs me.”

“Okay.”  He’d do anything AJ wanted, to keep Kevin from leaving.  Besides which, it was a good plan.  “Kevin talked to me yesterday.  Even before you came in the room.”  His caress drifted lower on AJ’s stomach.  “He talked about me, he talked to me.  Brian said that he and Chris used to barbecue, and Kevin said that he remembered going to one, one time, with me.  I brought my hometown sauce and we had a taste test, a contest, and I won.”

            “I bet your sauce tastes pretty good,” AJ said, licking his lips with a suggestive leer.

            Justin pinched AJ and kept talking.  “He said, ‘I think Justin won, didn’t you?’  He asked me.  I told him that I’d won first place.  I remember, back then, at Brian’s barbecue, he said, ‘First place winner,’ and he kissed me, right on the mouth.”

            “And you, what…  Fainted?” AJ asked.  “Came?”

            “Kevin talked to me,” Justin said.  “Last night, in front of other people, like it was a normal conversation.  He remembers what happened before, he remembers what it used to be like.”

            “And you helped him to remember by reminding him of that swimming pool blowjob,” AJ said.

            “I wanted him to know that I remembered,” Justin said.  “Kevin should never have to doubt for one second that I remember everything that ever happened between us.”

            He wasn’t Kevin’s errand boy.

            He wasn’t Kevin’s fuck boy, either.

            Trevor slammed cabinet doors, the refrigerator door, and anything else he got his hands on.

            He was pissed, damn it.  They’d had such a petty angry stupid fucked-up fight, even though he personally had been attacked less than anyone else, he still felt violence and bitterness simmering around inside.  And he couldn’t talk to any of his best friends about it, since they were the ones he had a problem with.

            He wanted to talk to Chris.

            About the fight.

            About Kevin.

            About everything.

            Erik had been sitting still at the table, staring into the same cup of coffee, for twenty minutes.  JC rubbed a hand over the fuzz of Erik’s hair, coming around the table to sit across from him.  “What’s bothering you, honey?”

            “You and the other guys fight, right?” Erik asked.

            “All friends fight sometimes,” JC said.  “It’s human to disagree.”  He waited; when Erik lapsed into silence, JC prompted, “You guys argued last night?”

            “Yeah,” Erik said.  He puffed out an unhappy breath.  “All of us.”

            “Ouch.”  JC wondered if they’d fought this often, before.  “About what?  It must have been pretty bad.”

            “We covered a lot of territory,” Erik said.  He met JC’s eyes, then returned his gaze to his mug.  “Everyone thinks we’re fucking.”

            “You and I are fucking?” JC asked.

            “Me and you, me and Howie, me and you and Howie.”  Erik shrugged, but it clearly bothered him.  “Let them think what they want to think, right?”

            “What we do together is our business,” JC said, reaching across the table for his hand.  “Our relationship is private.”

            Erik studied JC’s hand as it slipped into his, as if trying to figure it out.  “Yeah.”

            “You do understand, honey, don’t you?” JC asked.

            His expression and his tone didn’t change.  “Yeah.”

            JC had to talk to Howie.

            Fed, fucked, and showered, Chris put on yesterday’s clothes.  He’d seen Brian yesterday.  In front of people.  Brian had talked to him.  In front of people.  Like they were regular old friends.

            As he zipped up, he wondered what Brian was doing.

            His phone rang.

            Trevor.  “Trevor.  Kevin.  Trevor,” he said, staring at his caller ID display.

            Kevin sat on the edge of the bed, pulling him closer to stand between Kevin’s knees.  “Answer it.”

            Chris swallowed, pushing the button.  “Kirkpatrick.”  Kevin finished fastening his belt for him.

            “Chris.”  Surprised that he’d answered, it took Trevor an extra second to continue.  “Hey, it’s Trevor.  I was just calling to see how you’re doing.”

            “I’m okay,” Chris said.  Kevin looked into his eyes, willing him to say the right thing.  “How about you, how are you?”

            “I’m okay,” Trevor said.  “Everything’s pretty good around here.”

            “Really?” Chris asked.  “You sound like shit.”

            Kevin smiled.

            “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Trevor asked.

            “It just means you sound like something’s wrong,” Chris said.  “Are you okay?”

            “No, I’m not okay!” Trevor snapped.  “My friends are obsessed with their own fucked-up soap opera lives, we had a huge cruel petty who can strike the lowest blow fight last night, the guy I’m in love with totally disappeared from my life, why would I be okay?!”

            “Yeah, that all sounds pretty bad,” Chris said.  Kevin was concentrating, listening, nodding to let him know that he was doing well.  “Can I come over?”

            “What?”  Trevor sounded like he’d run into a wall.

            “Can I come over?” Chris repeated.

            “When?” Trevor asked.  “Here?”

            “Your house,” Chris said.  “Now’s good for me.”

            “We have rehearsal,” Trevor said, sounding slightly lost.  Then the real emotion came out.  “God, I miss you so much, come here, right now, or I’ll go to your house, I have to talk to you, I have to see you, I’ve been going nuts without you, life is so stupid without you there to make sense of it for me, or without you there to show me the nonsense of it.”

            “Okay,” Chris said.  “So I’ll be there soon.  I’ll watch rehearsal, that’ll be nice.”

            “I can’t wait to see you,” Trevor said.  “I’ll meet you in the driveway.”

            “It’ll be good to see you, too,” Chris said.  “Bye.”  He hung up.  “Okay?” he asked Kevin.

            “Perfect,” Kevin said, and kissed him.  “You did a great job.  Go home, change clothes, and go right over.  You know what to do?”

            “Yes, sir,” Chris said.  “I’ve been thoroughly briefed.”

            “Good.”  Kevin kissed him again, and stayed there, lingering over his mouth.  “You’ve been doing very, very well,” Kevin said softly, stroking his hair, gazing into his eyes with pride.  “You deserve a reward.”

            “Reward?” Chris asked, heart beating in anticipation.  Sometimes Kevin gave him Brian things.  He liked Brian things.

            “I’ll have to see what I can do for you,” Kevin said.  “You’ve been very good.”

            “I want to be good,” Chris said.  “I want to be the best minion ever.”

            “I do appreciate your…devotion…to the cause,” Kevin murmured, kissing him again, slowly.

            Chris suspected that what Kevin wanted was Chris’s devotion to Kevin.

            Chris was happy to oblige.

            Joey squinted against the brightness.

            The lamp clicked off.  With the heavy curtains drawn, the room was dim again.  Joey rolled onto his back, rubbing his eyes.  “God.”

            “You don’t have to get up yet.”  The covers were adjusted more warmly around him.  “Breakfast can wait as long as you want.”

            With dread and suspicion, Joey lowered his hands to see Nick seated comfortably at his side.  “Why are you still here?”

            “We got along great yesterday,” Nick said.  “Don’t ruin it now.”

            “I was unconscious for most of that time,” Joey said, sitting up.

            “And for most of this morning,” Nick said.

            There was a sketch pad at the foot of the bed, with a pen nearby.  “Don’t tell me you were drawing me naked.”

            “Don’t be a perv,” Nick said.  “Do you want breakfast?”

            “As long as you didn’t poison it,” Joey said.

            “You can get away with the attitude today, because I know you’re pissed about Dan,” Nick said.  “But this isn’t happening every morning.”  He kissed Joey’s cheek and climbed across the bed, heading for the door.

            “Every morning?” Joey repeated as Nick left the room.  Like that would ever happen.  With Nick out of sight, Joey reached for the sketch pad, wondering if its contents would reveal anything about what happened in that freak’s head.

            He found a few quick yet fleshed-out drawings of a superhero.  A superhero with a beard, a distinctive nose, and a big J on his chest.

            While he’d slept, Nick had sat by his side and sketched him.

            Half an hour meditating with Brian hadn’t been enough.  Tension and hostility crept through Jacob as he walked into the practice room.  “Don’t go anywhere,” he told Brian.

            “I’m right here,” Brian promised.

            The touch of Brian’s hand on Jacob’s arm strengthened him, and he walked over to the stereo as Brian went to sit against the wall.  Dan was in front of the mirrors, stretching.  “Where’s everybody else?” Jacob asked.

            “Ashley and Trevor are upstairs,” Dan said, his voice tight but controlled.  “Erik’s not home.”

            Of course he wasn’t home.  “If he blows this off-”

            “He has ten minutes,” Dan said.

            “He has seven minutes,” Jacob snapped.

            “He still has time,” Brian said quietly.

            Right.  Jacob took a deep breath.

            Trevor came in, looking a little too dressed and a little too groomed for a pissed-off sweaty rehearsal.  He said hello to Brian, not to anyone else, and checked the time.

            “You have somewhere else to be?” Jacob asked.

            “No,” Trevor said.

            Ashley walked in.  Jacob figured he had to be pretty upset, since he wasn’t chattering about something.  He took the least occupied section of the floor and waited for the beginning of rehearsal like he was waiting in line for the guillotine.

            Brian gave Jacob a reassuring, calming look.

            At the last second, Erik rushed in with his usual bustle.  At least he’d gone upstairs and changed first.

            Just as Jacob opened his mouth, the doorbell rang.

            Trevor darted from the room.

            “Let me guess,” Jacob said into the silence.  “Kevin needs someone to wash his windows.”

            “I’m sure Trevor will be right back,” Brian said.

            Chris, right there on his doorstep.  Looking very hot and very casual about it.  “Hi,” Chris said.  “Am I late for rehearsal?”

            Trevor kissed him.  Wrapped him up without warning and kissed him, taking his mouth and owning it.  Chris made some startled noises and then some interrogative noises and then some “hey, nice” noises, relaxing against him and kissing him like they’d never been apart.

            Trevor loved him.  Loved the warmth of his mouth and the scratch of his goatee.  Loved the touch of his tongue and the demanding pull of his hands.  Loved how bold he was, how casual he was.  “Chris,” Trevor said, loving the sound of his name, breaking the kiss to look at him.

            “Trevor,” Chris said, and ran quick fingers over his cheek.  “You brushed your teeth.”

            Chris’s eyes, those eyebrows he loved, that mouth, that nose, those ears.  He didn’t just love Chris’s hair, he loved Chris’s hairline.  “We have to talk.”

            “Okay,” Chris said, and touched his chin.  “I missed you.”

            Chris had missed him.  “I missed you so much,” Trevor said, and kissed him.

            “Trevor, what the hell are you-”  Jacob’s voice stopped.  Trevor couldn’t stop kissing Chris long enough to look or respond; Chris’s fingers began to stroke through his hair.  “Chris?” Jacob asked.

            “Jacob,” Chris said, and stopped kissing him, looking past Trevor to see Jacob.  “I remember you.”

            “Hey,” Jacob said, and Trevor turned as Jacob came closer.  “It’s great to see you,” Jacob said, and hugged Chris.

            Chris seemed surprised, but hugged back, blushing.  Trevor wasn’t used to seeing Chris blush.  Chris was kind of unshameable.

            “Hi,” Chris said, when Jacob stepped back.

            “We’re just starting rehearsal,” Jacob said.  “It’ll probably be boring for you, but you can hang out, if you want.  Brian usually does.”

            “Brian,” Chris said.  “Won’t that be nice.”

            Trevor couldn’t believe that he had to wait the whole way through rehearsal.  “You have time?” he asked Chris.  “You can wait, we can talk after?”

            “I have time,” Chris said, nodding.  “I can wait.  We can talk.”

            “Okay.”  Trevor kissed him again, just to get another one in.  “You look great.  You look hot.”  Just one more kiss.  “I’ve missed you so much, I really want to talk to you.”

            Chris looked not just at him but into him, hand splayed over his chest.  “We can talk about anything you want to talk about.”

            Trevor wanted to hug Chris, kiss Chris, really talk to Chris.  But Jacob was standing right there, impatiently, so he said, “After rehearsal.”

            “Right,” Chris said.  “Mustn’t be late for that.”

            “We’ll be right there,” Jacob said to Chris, apparently meaning himself and Trevor, so Chris wandered off.

            Trevor turned to Jacob.  “What?” he asked, snapping the question, since he was still mad about last night.

            “I guess this means you won’t be running errands for Kevin anymore,” Jacob said, his eyes hard, his voice soft.

            What the fuck?  Judgmental prick.  “Yeah,” Trevor said.  He hadn’t cemented that in his own mind yet, but Jacob was right, and that pissed him the fuck off.  He didn’t want to let go of the Kevin part of his life, but he didn’t appreciate Jacob implying that he’d betray Chris.  Running quick errands without telling Chris had been shady all by itself, but now that he and Kevin had made out, he couldn’t see Kevin anymore, not if Chris was back.  “I guess that’s what it means,” he said, bitter about the choices he had to make, angry at Jacob for pushing them into his face.

            “Good,” Jacob said, eyes harder, voice a near whisper.  “Because if I think for one second that you’re picking that shit up again, I’m going straight to Chris with it.  He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve that kind of bullshit from you.”

            Trevor stared at him in disbelief.  “Are you threatening me?”

            “No,” Jacob said in a normal tone, stepping back.  “Just letting you know where I stand.”  He turned, walking away.  “Let’s go, we’re late for rehearsal.”

            Trevor stared after him.

            Chris walked in and saw Brian sitting on the floor against the wall, relaxed, while Ashley, Dan, and Erik stood around looking angry.  “Hi.”  He wondered if he should sit near Brian, or far from Brian, or against the same wall but a few feet away.

            “Hi,” Brian said.  His hands were on the floor, halfway tucked under his thighs.  He turned one hand slightly, crooking one finger.

            “Hi,” Dan said, like he was pissed off at someone else and didn’t want to take it out on Chris unnecessarily.

            “Hi,” Erik muttered.

            “Hi,” Ashley said.  He was too nice not to say it, but his heart wasn’t in it.

            Chris crossed the room and sat beside Brian, close but not touching.

            “You’re here to see Trevor?” Brian asked.

            Brian was beautiful.  Chris gazed into his eyes.  Wanted to kiss his cheekbones.  “He called.  We’re going to talk.”

“That’s great,” Brian said.  “We’ve missed seeing you around here.”

            “We?” Erik asked.  “Oh, right, I forgot, you live here.”

            Chris missed a few seconds of breath.

            “Do you have a problem with me?” Brian asked Erik.  There wasn’t a trace of confrontation in his voice, only soft bewilderment and trust and friendship.  “I know that I’m over here a lot, but if I’m in the way, please, let me know.”

            Erik’s mouth hung open for a minute, but he was unable to muster a response.  Any resentment or bitterness had been thoroughly invalidated.  He’d been completely stonewalled.

            Chris smiled inside.  Jackass.  That’s what he got for saying shit to Brian.

            Brian waited for an answer.

            “It’s okay,” Dan told Brian, since Erik couldn’t come up with a reply.  “We’re not having a good morning.  Erik didn’t mean anything by it.”

            “Ready to get to work?” Jacob asked, walking into the room.

            This was the room and setting where Justin had strangled Jacob.  Chris wondered where in the room they’d been.

            Pulling on sweatpants and a T-shirt, Joey went into the kitchen.  “What’s this?”

            Nick set two plates of eggs and toast on the table, then looked at him.  “What’s what?”  Nick saw the sketch pad in his hands, opened to the superhero drawings.  “Oh, him.  That’s the Justice Avenger Fighter.  The name sucks, but so do your initials.”  He turned away, opening the refrigerator.

            “You were drawing me,” Joey said.  That was weird.  Nick sitting there, drawing him, while he slept?  That was either creepy, or it was romantic, and that was creepy.

            “Help me come up with a better name,” Nick said, putting butter on the table.  “And eat before it gets cold.”

            “The toast is burnt,” Joey said.

            “Love me, love my crappy food,” Nick said, taking a seat.

            “Great.”  Joey sat across from him.

            “How about Joey, the Above-average Fuckgod?” Nick asked.

            Fuckgod.  Joey grinned.  “That one has possibilities.”

            The phone rang as the doorbell sounded.  Howie took a final glance in the mirror.  JC had already called, asking to come over, so the current call was from…

            Ah.  Lance.  Of course.

            Walking through the house, Howie waited for the phone to stop ringing.  When it stopped, he opened the front door.  “JC.”  He pulled JC inside with a welcoming kiss.  “Come in, sit down.  What did you want to talk about?”

            “Erik, mostly,” JC said, sitting beside him on the sofa.  “The five of them had a big fight yesterday, and he seems pretty pissed about it.”

            “A fight about what?” Howie asked, sitting back.

            “He didn’t give me a lot of specifics, but he did say that they’re accusing him of sleeping with you and me.”

            Howie would get the specifics from Erik himself, if he needed them.  “He didn’t take that well?”

            “He seems kind of, I’m not sure what to call it, unsettled about it,” JC said.  “He’s uncomfortable.  I think we need to have another talk with him about putting us first.”

            “Reinforce his commitment?” Howie asked.  Talk alone wouldn’t do it.  Talk coupled with action would.  “Maybe it’s time for you to have a man-to-man talk with him.”

            Rehearsal couldn’t always be this bad, could it?  While Jacob, Trevor, and Ashley “discussed” the choreography, Chris wondered if they always fought like that.  They couldn’t possibly.  Although if they spent their rehearsal time fighting, it would explain their stage show.

            “Stop it!” Dan ordered.  Oh, look, it was Kevin Lite.  “We have guests!  We are in front of professionals!  Let’s at least get through five minutes without acting like children!”

            Four heads turned in Chris and Brian’s direction.  Chris wondered if he should wave.

            “We’re not getting anything done today,” Erik said.  “Why don’t we just call it off and come back tomorrow?”

            “Sounds good to me,” Ashley said.

            “We have work to do,” Jacob said.  “We’re not calling off anything.”

            “Maybe you have work to do,” Erik said.  “I could do these routines in my sleep.”

            “You can’t do them when you’re awake,” Trevor said.

            “I’m tired of everyone being in my face!” Erik exploded.

            “I’m tired of you being lazy!” Jacob snapped.

            “I’m tired of your judgmental hypocritical bullshit!”

            Beside Chris, Brian sat up straighter.  Chris straightened, too.

            Jacob looked like someone who thought that he was dangerous to mess with.  “Don’t start with me,” he warned Erik.

            “We’re taking the rest of the day off,” Dan said.  “Everyone take some time, go to your own corners.  We’ll come back here tomorrow, and we’ll all be ready to work.”  He looked from one face to the next.  “Okay?”

            “Yeah,” Erik muttered.  “Sure.”  He left the room.

            “Tomorrow,” Ashley said, and walked out.

            Trevor didn’t bother to reply, just walked over to Chris.  “Can we go to your place?”

            “Okay,” Chris said.  He looked at Brian.  “Bye.”

            “Bye,” Brian said.

            Chris stood and walked out with Trevor.

            “Shit,” Trevor muttered, halfway across the house.  “I have to shower.”

            “You can shower at my house,” Chris said.  “I have that new-fangled plumbing.”

            “Are you sure?” Trevor asked.

            “You can borrow some clothes, too,” Chris said.  “If you want.”

            “God, I missed you,” Trevor said, and Chris found himself in a tight, sweaty embrace.

            It felt good.

            “I missed you, too,” Chris said, closing his eyes.

            “Joey, the Amazing Fuckgod,” Joey said.

            Nick, sprawled on his stomach across the floor, shaded in the J on the superhero’s chest.  “You’d look hot in tights.”

            “I’m not wearing tights,” Joey said.  “Give me leather pants.”

            “No tights, no cape,” Nick reminded him.

            True.  Hmm.  Joey crawled over Nick, peering over his shoulder.  “Make my package bigger.”

            Nick erased and redrew it.  “Better?”

            “Much better,” Joey said.  Since it was right there, he squeezed Nick’s ass.  “Should I go old-fashioned with the tights and cape, or go macho with the T-shirt and leather pants?”

            “It’s harder to get your dick out for a quick fuck if you have tights in the way,” Nick said.  His thighs spread for Joey’s hand.  “You want me to give you a few rips in the shirt like you’ve really been fighting hard and tearing shit up?”

            Howie talked to JC a while longer, making plans, refining strategy, and just enjoying each other’s company.  Brian had already shared the information he’d learned from Jacob about the O-Town fight, but while JC was there, Howie spread JC’s information through phone calls and text messages.

            When Jacob came out of the bathroom, showered and dressed and frowning, Brian was on the bed, concerned.  “I’m sorry about rehearsal.”

            “I’m sorry about a  lot of things,” Jacob said, tying his hair back, sitting beside Brian with a sigh and then flopping onto his back.  “I really need new friends,” he said, rubbing his hands over his face.  “This is freaking ridiculous.”

            Jacob’s shirt slid up an inch or two, revealing deliciously tempting skin.  Brian could only fantasize about touching Jacob there.  Feeling the warmth of Jacob’s flesh.  His love was so slender.  So…tender.

            Jacob groaned in frustration.

            Brian empathized.  “I know that the real conflict isn’t about me.  But I think that my presence here is, well, I don’t know, but it’s not helping.”

            “It helps me,” Jacob said, lowering his hands, his words quick, his voice firm.  Jacob was quick to defend, quick to accuse, quick to confront, quick to judge.

            “I’m here all of the time.  I don’t live here, Jacob, this isn’t my house.  It’s not fair to your friends that I’m constantly in their home, intruding on their private space and their private lives.  And I take up all of your time, we’re always together, when you all agreed to spend more time as a group.”

            “What are you saying?” Jacob asked, sitting up.

            “Maybe I should spend less time here,” Brian said.

            “Less time with me,” Jacob said, eyes narrowing with suspicion and displeasure.

            “Maybe it’s for the best,” Brian said softly.  He couldn’t bear to be separated from his love, and he let the pain of it gently color his tone.  “You should be more available to your friends.”

            “You’re going home,” Jacob said.  “You’re going to stay home.”

            “We can be here sometimes,” Brian said.  “At my house, sometimes.  Out, sometimes.  And apart, sometimes.  Instead of always being here and always being together, we should spice it up a bit.”

            “I was alone with the guys all day yesterday, and that was terrific,” Jacob said.

            “Yesterday was a bad day,” Brian said.  “They won’t all be bad days.”

            “Where did you get this idea that you shouldn’t be here?” Jacob asked.

            “I was talking to Chris, right before rehearsal, and someone made a comment about the fact that I don’t live here.   He’s right, I don’t live here, and if-”

            “Who?” Jacob demanded, furious now that he had someone to blame.  “Who said that to you?”

            “It’s not important,” Brian said.  “What’s important is that he was right.”

            “It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Trevor,” Jacob said.  “Dan, Ashley, or Erik?”

            “Jacob, listen to me,” Brian said, putting his hand on Jacob’s thigh.  “I didn’t tell you so you’d get mad at your friends.  I think that we need to…”  He hesitated, then gave Jacob a tentative smile.  “…see other people.  And see each other in other settings.”

            Jacob’s jaw was tight, and his eyes were cold.

            “If I had my way, we’d spend every day together,” Brian said.  He stroked the lovely line of Jacob’s clenched jaw.  “Every second together.”  He put his hand on Jacob’s shoulder.  “I love you, and there’s no one I’d rather spend my time with.  But you have a life outside of me, that you’ve neglected.”

            “I live with them!” Jacob protested.  “I see them every damned day!”

            “But you don’t spend time with them,” Brian said.  He sighed softly, touching Jacob’s jaw again.  “You’re only fighting me on this because you know that I’m right.”

            “I can’t believe you’re giving in to them,” Jacob said.

            “I only want what’s best for you,” Brian said, embracing him, soaking up the feel of him.  “I’m always looking out for you.”

            “Tell me that you’ve never worn this in public,” Justin said, examining a paint-splatter patterned fedora.

            “Get out of my closet,” AJ said from the bedroom.

            Justin chose to ignore AJ, instead trying on a few caps.  “You have way too many hats.”

            “This, from someone with ten thousand pairs of shoes,” AJ said, appearing in the closet doorway.

            “I wear my shoes,” Justin said, checking himself out in the mirror and putting on a different hat.  Nice.  “You collect hats like you’re an obsessed lunatic.”

            “Get,” AJ snatched off the hat and smacked him upside the head, “out of my closet.”

            Justin simply put on a different hat.  “Speaking of your fashion fetishes, let’s discuss sunglasses.”

            He’d missed Chris so much that he’d jumped at the chance to see Chris again.  And once they’d been face-to-face, he’d known that he couldn’t let Chris go.  But now he had to deal with the realities of their relationship.

            Trevor had expected to talk across a table or on a sofa, to have a formal discussion of what had gone wrong.  Instead, Chris invited him to sit on the bed, and then pushed him onto his back.

            “We have to talk,” Trevor said.

            “I know.”  Chris pushed his shirt up a few inches and stroked his stomach.  Nuzzled his stomach.  Sighed against his navel.  “I’m sorry.”

            Okay, so they’d talk while Chris petted him.  It was so familiar, Trevor stroked Chris’s hair.  “Sorry for what?”

            “That I didn’t appreciate what I had,” Chris said.  “That I appreciated it but didn’t show that.  That I said the bad things that I said.”  He rested his cheek on Trevor’s stomach, slowly caressing.  “You didn’t deserve that.”

            Maybe Chris wasn’t in love with him, but everything didn’t have to end because of it.  “What do you want to do about it?”

            “I want you to take me back,” Chris said.  “I want to be friends again.  Special friends.”

            Trevor risked it.  “Boyfriends?”

            “Not today,” Chris said.  “I think that we should try being friends for a little while first.  But, maybe later, boyfriends would be nice.”  Chris kissed his stomach, then stroked that spot.  “I’d like to be boyfriends with you.  You’d make a good boyfriend.”

            Trevor closed his eyes, fingers in Chris’s hair, and thought about it.  “So we’re back to the way things were.”

            Chris’s voice was quiet.  “Is that acceptable?”

            He had to bring it up.  “What about Kevin?”

            “I had a lot of time to think about that,” Chris said.  “Mostly what I did was miss you and think about things and - - I heard about your car, I’m really sorry.  I wish it hadn’t happened.  I feel bad about it.”

            “It’s okay,” Trevor said.  His poor car.  “Don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault.”  He liked that Chris had cared, even though they’d been apart.  “While you were thinking, what did you come up with?”

            “You’re a good person,” Chris said.  “You deserve a good life.  I like to be with you.  I like the person you see when you look at me.  I like the way you treat me.  I want to be good for you, I want to have a good relationship with you.  I missed you, and…  If our special friendship includes sex, I suspect that I’ll be much more participatory than I used to be.”

            “Really?”  That sounded promising.  Very promising.

            “Yeah.”  Chris’s fingers stroked his ribs.

            He toyed with Chris’s hair some more.  “I know that you’re in love with someone else.  That’s a fact of who you are right now, and I can be okay with that.”  He had to be, because if he wasn’t okay with it, he’d lose Chris again.  “I understand that you’re still hung up on him, but at some point you’re going to get past it, and when you move on, I want you to move on with me.”

Chris’s voice was quiet.  “I’m sorry about what happened.  I’m sorry that I was shitty to you.  I’m sorry if you ever felt like I didn’t think you were good enough or I didn’t care about you.  I did care.  I do care.  You’re special, and you deserve to be with someone who will treat you the right way.”

            “I want to try this again,” Trevor said.  “I love you too much not to give it another shot.  Maybe that’s stupid of me, but I have to try.”

            “If that’s stupid, please be stupid,” Chris said, climbing up his body and looking down into his face.  “Give me another chance.”

            God, Chris, “I love you,” Trevor said, stroking Chris’s goatee, his eyebrow.  Chris, it was Chris, Chris was back with him, they were together again.  “If you’re crazy enough to want me, I’ll be as stupid as I possibly can.”

Justin kissed AJ good-bye and went home.  From the car, he called Kevin.  Walking in the front door, he called Dan.

            “It’s Miller Time.”

            Justin frowned.  “What’s wrong?”  He didn’t hear a smile or any authentic happiness, only strained patience.  “You sound pissed off.”  AJ had told him that there had been a fight, and apparently it had been a bad one.

            “I’m frustrated,” Dan said.  “How are you?”

            “Can you come over?” Justin asked.  “Not for me, I’m okay, but I want to see you.  Should I go over there?”

            “No, I’ll come over,” Dan said.  “Bye.”

            “Okay, bye.”  Justin hung up, concerned.  Dan sounded like he was having the mother of all bad days.

            Dan sounded frustrated and pissed and beat down, and Justin didn’t like it.

            As soon as Brian left, Jacob was going to have a serious talk with Erik.  Until then, Jacob wasn’t leaving Brian’s side, since apparently time with Brian wouldn’t be as abundant in the coming days as it had been.

            Bullshit.  Just bullshit.  Spend more time with his friends?  He lived with them!  He worked with them!  How much more time together could they spend?

            Besides, they were so busy chasing celebrity dick, it wasn’t like they were around all that often anymore.

            They weren’t his friends anymore.  They were becoming strangers.  Immoral strangers.

            His phone rang.  He didn’t want to waste time talking to people who weren’t Brian, but when he saw who was calling, he picked up the phone.  “What?”

            “If you want to learn how to fuck a man, come to my house now.”

            Jacob hung up.  Terrible timing, no talent, Lance was a complete package.  “I have to be somewhere.  I wouldn’t go if it weren’t really important.  I hate to-”

            “It’s okay,” Brian said, putting a hand over his.  “I understand.  Go ahead.”

            “I’ll call you when I’m done,” Jacob said.

            “Okay.”  Brian squeezed his hand.  “Do what you need to do.”

            Leaving Brian now would make Brian his later.  Once they were lovers, they wouldn’t have these problems ever again.  Once they were as committed in body as they already were in soul, they’d never spend another night apart.

            Dan put on a smile for Justin’s benefit, but Justin didn’t buy it for a second.  “What happened to you?”

            “What happened to me?” Dan repeated, walking over to the sofa and sitting down.  “Why, is my hair fucked up?”

            “All we ever do is talk about what’s wrong with my life,” Justin said, sitting beside him.  “Let’s talk about what’s going on in your life.  What happened since the last time we saw each other?”

            “Not a whole lot,” Dan said.

            “Okay.”  Justin absently rotated his bracelet, looking around the room.  “How’s your family?”

            “Fine,” Dan said.  “How about yours?”

            “Great, thanks.”  He stretched out his legs.  “How’re things at the house?  How are the guys?”  Dan didn’t say anything.  “How was rehearsal?  Did I miss anything good?”

            “We cut rehearsal short.”  Dan looked down.  His shoulders were tense.  He looked like he was working on not scowling angrily.

            Definitely a bad fight.  Justin wondered what it was like for Dan, to see things going this wrong, this early in the game.  The first time around, Justin had been so caught up in Kevin that he hadn’t noticed much, if anything, wrong with his friends.  They’d all been busy and happy, and he hadn’t noticed major problems with their situations until a later point, towards the end, when everything had fallen apart.  They’d only begun to fight with each other during the major crises as their lives and fantasy worlds crashed down around them.

            “I don’t want to talk about it,” Dan said quietly, firmly.

            “Okay.”  He didn’t have to push the issue.

            Dan’s voice was still quiet but less firm now.  “I might not be very good company today.”

            “I don’t know why you ever worry about that,” Justin said.  “I don’t care what kind of mood you’re in when you’re here.”  He reached over, taking Dan’s hand.  “I just want you to be here.”

            One, two.

            Three, four.

            Strange, how the seemingly simple gesture could mean so much, but it always made Justin feel better.

            Judging from the relaxing of Dan’s spine and the newly confident straightening of Dan’s shoulders, it did the same for him.

            Moaning, rocking from the impact of each thrust, Chris dug his fingers into Trevor’s back.

            Trevor lowered his head, groaning, fisting Chris’s erection, wanting to bury his own dick so deep that he and Chris could never be separated again.

            Lance wasn’t going to let anyone accuse him of slowing down the game ever again.

            He wasn’t going to let anyone accuse him of not pulling his weight.

            He wasn’t going to let anyone label him expendable.

            AJ, Nick, and Kevin could go to hell.

            Opening the door to let Jacob in, he said, “We’re doing it once, no foreplay, just mechanics.  Then, if you demonstrate a basic sense of rhythm, we’ll do it again with the frills.”

            “Whatever.”  Jacob headed for the bedroom.

            Lance was determined to get through this ordeal with his sanity intact.  Therefore, he refused to get emotional about it.  That meant not letting his intense hatred for Jacob infect him.  No hatred, no animosity.  Motion divorced from emotion.

In the bedroom, Lance undressed as Jacob did, lying down on his back.  He’d decided to stay on his back, at least the first time, because as horrible as being face-to-face with Jacob would be, he didn’t trust Jacob behind him.  “I assume you know what to do, from being on the other side.”

            “Yeah,” Jacob said shortly, obviously as eager to get it over with as little involvement as possible, as he was.  Lance moved the lube from the nightstand to the mattress as Jacob knelt between his raised legs.

            Lance looked up at the ceiling, took deep, even breaths, and pretended that he was at the doctor’s office.  Doctor’s office.  Clinic.  Clinical.  Mechanical.  Motion divorced from emotion.

            The first cool, slippery touch made him tense, made him want to withdraw, and he mentally smacked himself.  He wouldn’t react.  He wouldn’t give Jacob the satisfaction of withdrawal.

            Pushing.  Intrusion.  Jacob’s finger probed inside, and Lance closed his eyes, breathing deeply, slowly, evenly.  Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Deeper, deeper, stroking.  What was Jacob looking at?  What was Jacob thinking?  Was this curious exploration or disgusted necessity?  Was Jacob trying to stretch him as a clinical, technical step or-

            Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Lance wouldn’t let himself think about what was happening.  No thinking.  Just breathing.  He was at the doctor’s office, undergoing an exam.

            Gradual retreat, then a slow, surprisingly gentle re-entry.  Two fingers, this time.  He couldn’t stop it but he couldn’t enjoy it, and tension built in Lance’s body, knotting his muscles.  He was going to get a leg cramp at this rate.

            “Where is it?”  Jacob’s voice was quiet, and not all that aggressive, for Jacob.

            Lance didn’t want to talk to him, damn it.  He licked his lips, preparing himself for speech.  Speech meant interaction, meant involvement, meant acknowledging what was happening as it happened.  “Curl your fingers.”

            Jacob’s fingers crooked as he stroked.  His touch was slow and tender.  Obviously Jacob had no tender feelings towards Lance, so it was likely that only inexperience and uncertainty kept him from crudely finger-fucking Lance the way Lance had carelessly used him.

            A soft throb of pleasure wakened within Lance as Jacob’s questing fingers found the right spot.  Shimmers of the first still echoed through his body as a second one and then a third followed.  They built on each other, and Lance didn’t know which was worse, tolerating Jacob’s touch or enjoying it.  He’d promised himself that he wouldn’t react to pain or disgust, but his hands became fists at the unbearable realization of arousal.

            Jacob’s fingers withdrew, and Lance’s leg was lifted, propped over Jacob’s shoulder.  Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Lance forced himself to remain calm, forced himself not to show any outward emotion, forced himself not to admit to dangerous fear.

            If he opened his eyes, he’d smash Jacob’s face in.

            If he ended up killing Jacob, could he call it self-defense?

            Something brushed against his asshole.  Jacob was in position.  Lance breathed, reminding himself that no matter what happened, he’d live through it.  He could do this.  How much had he done for Howie?  He could do this.  He could do this.  He-

            oh

            -could-

            unh

            -do-

            unh, unh

            -this.

            Lance breathed.

            Jacob pressed in deeper.

            Lance wouldn’t have described any part of Jacob as big - - his ego, maybe, but no part of his anatomy - - but his dick was definitely larger than two fingers.  It didn’t hurt, but Lance wasn’t at all comfortable.

            This had to be over soon.

            It had to be over soon.

            Slow withdrawal, firm push.  Slow withdrawal, quick thrust, quick withdrawal, and Jacob picked up a rhythm, his dick working in and out, back and forth, his balls smacking Lance’s ass on each pass.  Jacob picked up momentum, and he started to jolt Lance’s body, and as he shifted, adjusting Lance’s legs, coming in at a new angle, he brushed right over Lance’s prostate.

            Lance breathed.

            It would be over soon, it would be over soon.

            Jacob stayed in that position, apparently sliding into a zone, and each thrust pushed a new burst of pleasure on Lance.  Thrust pop, thrust pop, thrust pop, there was a steady rhythm to it that Lance found intolerable.  He was going to open his eyes and claw Jacob’s face off, he was going to kick Jacob away and bash Jacob’s skull in, he was going to scream and-

            The thought of screaming brought something new to Lance’s attention.  The near-silence of the room.  If what was happening had to be termed sex, it was silent sex.  They didn’t speak.  They didn’t moan.  They didn’t even grunt.  The sound of flesh hitting flesh was louder than their breathing.  Jacob was panting a little; Lance circulated air as evenly and quietly as possible.

            It was a remarkable change from Brian’s begging and pleading.

            Something about that contrast, the cold mechanics of this coupling against the wild display of Brian, struck him as funny.  Lance snickered.

            Jacob pulled out.

            Lance was surprised into opening his eyes.

            Jacob spat in his face.

            “Fuck!”  Lance grabbed him.

            Instantly, emotion was back.

            They were definitely interacting now.

            Chris stroked the warm, even skin of Trevor’s upper arm.

            “I love you,” Trevor whispered, kissing him.

            Finishing up a late lunch, Joey and Nick sprawled on the sofa, comfortable half on top of each other.  When the phone rang, Joey gave it a glance.  “Ashley.”

            “Invite him over,” Nick said.

            “For what?” Joey asked.

            “Sex,” Nick said.  “And be nice to him.  They just had that big fight, so he’s really vulnerable to you right now.  He needs your support.  And if everyone’s calling him a slut, you have to treat him with respect so he won’t believe they’re right.”

            Good thinking.  Joey answered.  “You got Joey.”

            “Joey, it’s Ashley.  I have to get out of this house.  Are you busy?”

            “I’m just hanging out here with Nick.  Come over.”

            “Nick’s there?”

            “Yeah,” Joey said.  “I’ll get him to behave himself.  Come over, I want to see you.”  Nick grinned at him.

            “I don’t know if…”

            Ashley sounded reluctant.  Joey couldn’t let Ashley back out, not with Nick listening.  “Please, pretty?  You know how much I want to see your pretty face.”

            “Okay,” Ashley said.

            “See you soon?” Joey asked.

            “Yeah,” Ashley said, coaxed into a lighter tone.  “See you soon.”

            “Bye, pretty.”  Joey hung up and looked at Nick.  “Now what?”

            “Now you get to juggle having a boyfriend and a blow-up doll at the same time,” Nick said.  “You and I have to show him how close we are, how good we are together.  And you have to be nice to him.  You have to be respectful, so he thinks that you love him and he’s more than a side fuck.  If that fight went the way it sounds like it went, they tore him apart for being your whore on the side.  He needs you to comfort him and reassure him, because he’s too sensitive to fight like that and not feel it, and he needs some kind of validation that he really is special and important to you.”

            “How do I do that with you here?” Joey asked.

            “With a lot of help from me,” Nick said.  “Pay attention.”

            “You sick fuck!”

            “You nasty freak!”

            Stark naked and furious, Lance and Jacob glared at each other with hot hatred, circling each other, dangerously close to inflicting permanent damage.

            “Get the fuck out of my house!”

            “Not until I get what I came for!”

            Lance wondered if he could get Brian to do something bad enough to make Jacob end up in a hospital.  If not, he’d do it himself.

            “Get on the fucking bed!”

            “The day you touch me is the day you lose an arm!”

            Jacob wiped blood from his nose.  He wasn’t leaving until he had what he needed.  And if he didn’t get enough of it, he’d come back later for more.  Lance Bass was the only thing standing between him and Brian, and that was a perilous place to be.

            Erik didn’t see Ashley leave, didn’t get or want a good-bye, but he heard the front door.

            He was alone in the house when the call came.

            “I’m hungry,” Chris said, nuzzling Trevor’s neck.  So good to be with someone who loved him.  So good to be with someone who believed in him.  So good to be with someone who cared without strings or qualifications.

            “I’m starving,” Trevor said, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.

            “You’re really here,” Chris said, stroking his hair and looking into his too-deep eyes.  “I’m not imagining this.  You’re here, so real, so good to me.”

            “You forgot ‘so sexy,’” Trevor said, kissing him with a smile.

            “So sexy,” Chris said.  “So caramel.”

            “Sexy, caramel, and yours,” Trevor said, kissing him again, kissing his cheek.

            “Sexy, caramel, and mine,” Chris repeated softly, loving it.  Someone who loved him?  Someone real?  Someone he could keep?

            It would only be true until Kevin stepped in, but until then, he’d believe in it.

            Lance hadn’t exactly had a rough-and-tumble childhood.  He hadn’t brawled in a lot of bars.  The most he knew about fighting was playing around with Joey and Chris.

            The fact that he’d given Jacob a bloody nose was oddly satisfying.

            The fact that Jacob had done the same to him first was less so.

            If someone didn’t give in, they were going to kill each other.  There was definitely a life-or-death gleam in Jacob’s eye.

            Lance’s problem was, he couldn’t refuse Jacob forever.  He had to hold up his end of the deal.  What was he going to do, go back to Brian and admit defeat?  Say that he didn’t want to have sex with Jacob?  And then what?  Let Backstreet ridicule him and lecture him?

            If he fucked up the game, not only would Howie disappear, but Justin and Chris would, well, that didn’t bear thinking about.  Suffice it to say, Lance would be in trouble.

            Clearing the hatred from his glare, Lance released the tension from his body, moving back to the bed and draping himself over it languidly, posing on one side.  “If you want me that badly, if you can’t stand the thought of leaving without another taste, I guess I’ll let you try again.”

            Cursing inventively, casting aspersions on Lance’s mother, his sexuality, his virility, and his sanity, Jacob stormed the bed.

            Jacob was a lot easier to take when Lance was actively pissing him off.

            “No one’s here?” JC asked, walking into the house.

            “Nobody but you and me,” Erik said, closing the door.

            “When are they coming back?” JC asked, glancing around with a strangely speculative expression.

            “I have no idea,” Erik said.  “Could be five minutes, could be five hours.”

            “Honey,” JC said with a smile, running his fingers up Erik’s neck, “do you like to live dangerously?”

            Ashley wanted to be alone with Joey.

            He was angry, and hurt, and confused, and bitter.  The guys were right.  How could he be upset that everyone was giving him dirty looks, when he actively wanted to break up Nick and Joey’s relationship?  If he did it, then he had to accept the consequences of it.

            But they weren’t right, not about all of it.  He wasn’t a slut.  He wasn’t a whore.  He was in love.  Joey loved him back.  Joey wasn’t using him for sex.  They were friends, they were more than friends, they were in love.

            He’d been assaulted in his own home.  His friends had turned on him.  He wanted to go to Joey, wanted to be reminded of what he was going through all of this for, wanted the reassurance that he was on the right path.

            But Nick was there.  Nick was always in his way.  Every time he turned around, there was another roadblock, another judgment.  And every time he turned around, there was Nick, or one of Nick’s friends, or the memory of Nick imprinted on his skin.

            Ashley needed Joey.  Fighting with the guys had really gotten to him, all of that venom confined in one car, the back-stabbing, the shockingly low blows.  He needed a real friend.  He needed reassurance.  He needed Joey.

            He rang the doorbell.

            The door opened.  “Hey, pretty.”  Joey reached out to him, pulling him into the house, right into a warm hug.  “How’re you doing?”

            Ashley closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Joey’s shoulders, enveloped in Joey’s solidity and Joey’s love.  “My life is complete crap and utter chaos every second I’m not in your arms.”

            “What’s wrong?” Joey asked.

            Ashley rested his cheek on Joey’s shoulder, wondering if he could stay there forever.  “Everyone I know thinks that I’m a horrible home-wrecking slut.”

            “What?”  Arms still around his waist, Joey pulled back to look into his face with indignant surprise.  “I thought that we were over that.  When are they going to learn to stay out of our business?  Who said that to you?”

            “The guys,” Ashley said.  His hands found comfort in stroking Joey’s back as he met Joey’s eyes.  “Jacob, Erik, Trevor, Dan.  We had a huge fight last night, we were driving around we just, I don’t know, we exploded at each other.  I said things I never should have said, I can’t believe what came out of my own mouth, I feel like shit.  And the things they said to me…”

            “Your best friends called you a horrible home-wrecking slut?” Joey asked in disbelief.  “Pretty, you need new friends.”  He looked appalled and disgusted, and angry on Ashley’s behalf.  “Sit down and tell me how this happened.”

            Joey’s arm was still around his waist as they sat, and Ashley stayed close, putting a hand on Joey’s thigh.  “I’m not exactly an innocent victim.  I said a lot of terrible shit to them, too.  You should have seen us, we were at each other’s throats.”  He couldn’t believe how they’d acted.  “Why are we treating each other so badly?”

            “You look like shit.”

            Ashley looked across the room and saw Nick lounging in the doorway.  Bare feet, jeans, a T-shirt, and a casually dismissive expression.  Did Nick pose like that deliberately?

            “He had a bad fight with his friends last night,” Joey said, his arm tightening protectively around Ashley’s waist.

            “If I had those friends, I’d fight with them, too,” Nick said, straightening and walking over to the sofa, sitting on Joey’s other side.  “Who won?”

            Ashley wanted nothing more than for Nick to leave.  Leave the room, leave the house, leave Joey’s life.  Leave Ashley’s life.  “No one won,” Ashley said.  “We just tore each other apart.  We were still so mad at each other this morning that we had to cut rehearsal short,” he told Joey.

            “You and I went over this already,” Joey said.  “Right after AJ harassed you, we talked about it.”  The arm around his waist urged him closer against Joey’s body as Joey looked firmly into his eyes.  “I can’t stop your friends from running their mouths, but you remember what I said before.  You’re special, and beautiful, and very important to me.  I can get sex anywhere I want it.  You and I aren’t friends because I want a good lay.  You and I are friends for a lot more than that.”

            That was just what he’d needed to hear.  Ashley fed Joey’s words into his soul and let them soothe his pain.  “Thank you.”

            Joey kissed his cheek.

            “I said I was okay with him coming over here,” Nick said from behind Joey.  “I didn’t say I wanted to see you coo at each other.”

            “He’s having a bad day,” Joey told Nick.  “Give him a break.”

            “You can’t get over one fight?” Nick asked Ashley.

            “His best friends called him a slut,” Joey said.

            “I hope you called them on all of the sick schemes they’ve been working,” Nick said to Ashley.

            “Don’t start that now,” Joey told Nick.

            “Maybe you can shed some light on this for me,” Nick continued.  Ashley wondered what he was talking about.  “Howie and JC are the perfect couple, right?  They’re in love, they practically live together, we’re all just waiting for the commitment ceremony.  Suddenly Estrada’s around just about every day, and they’re barely speaking to each other, but I go over to Howie’s house and guess who’s there?”

            They’d accused Erik of the same thing last night, but Ashley couldn’t decide whether admitting that was a good idea or not.

            “Then there’s the other one,” Nick said.  “Miller.  Everything’s going along like normal, all of a sudden Miller and Justin are hanging out, and the next thing anybody knows, Justin breaks up with AJ and runs off to New York with this guy.”

            “Dan didn’t really break them up,” Ashley said.  “Justin would have dumped AJ, anyway.”

            Nick raised his eyebrows.

            “Who told you that?” Joey asked.

            “I…  Nobody told me,” Ashley said, unsure of his footing.  They were both looking at him like he was about to say the wrong thing.  “It just seemed like - - I mean, if AJ was that abusive, Justin had to leave him.  Dan just gave Justin a safe place to turn to.”

            “Abusive,” Nick repeated.

            “He’s violent!”

            “And you’ve seen him hit Justin?” Joey asked.

            “Not in person,” Ashley said.  “But when he came to get Justin-”

            “From Dan’s bed,” Nick said.

            “You should have seen the way he…”  Ashley didn’t know what to say.  The way AJ had dragged Justin down the stairs?  It didn’t sound bad enough, put that flatly.  There had been so much more to the actual moment.  AJ’s attitude, AJ’s fury.  All of that, what had Dan called it?  Dark energy.  “He hit Dan.”

            “Did you ever ask Justin about the time he heard about some guy hanging around our tour?” Nick asked.

            “No,” Ashley said.  Actually, he rarely ever spoke to Justin, personally.  “What happened?”

            “AJ wasn’t fucking the guy, or anything.  AJ had a lot of chances to screw around on tour, you know what it’s like, but he didn’t think anybody but Justin even existed.  Anyway, AJ and this guy, what was his name?” he asked Joey.

            “Charlie,” Joey said.

“Right,” Nick said.  “They were just kind of friends, barely that.  He was one of the opening act’s dancers, and he thought AJ was hot, but he couldn’t get anywhere, because AJ was way too wrapped up in Justin.  Charlie started telling all of his friends, everybody he knew, that he and AJ were doing it, that they were fucking on the bus, that they were having wild sex parties, all of this crazy shit.”

“And Justin found out?” Ashley asked, wrapped up in Nick’s words.  He was curious about the story itself, but he was also absorbed by Nick’s presence, by Nick’s gaze, by the personal attention.  His hand strayed across Joey’s chest as he stared into Nick’s eyes.

“Somebody told somebody who told somebody else, and somebody told Justin, and Justin flipped.  The fuck.  Out.”

“Really?” Ashley asked.

            “He flew out, he came right out and met us in Dallas, and he tracked Charlie down.  Didn’t bother to tell AJ he was coming, didn’t stop to say hi to anybody, just found Charlie’s hotel room.  We hear this girly screaming sound, security runs in - - Justin had the guy on the floor, his foot right on his balls.  Charlie had to see a doctor, he missed the next show, he stayed away from AJ like AJ had the plague.”

            “Are you serious?” Ashley asked.

            “When they got Justin away from Charlie, and Justin came into the hallway and saw AJ, man, he was on fire.  Justin and AJ went right into AJ’s hotel room and tore the place apart.  First by fighting, then by fucking.”

            “Fighting?” Ashley asked.  “You mean AJ beat Justin up.”

            “Did I say that AJ beat Justin up?” Nick asked.

            Well, “No, but-”

            “AJ’s passionate, he’s intense,” Nick said.  “Justin’s not that much different, not when it comes to AJ.  They’re passionate about each other, they’re intense about each other.”

            “When Justin’s that committed to someone, he’s very protective,” Joey said.  “Very jealous.”

            “They’re crazy about each other,” Nick said.  “Justin’s not a meek scared baby.  It sounds like he’s different now, and maybe that’s Dan’s influence, or maybe that’s because he’s going through AJ withdrawal, but when he and AJ are together, he gives what he gets.”

            “But that’s not…”  That wasn’t true.  Was it?  Nick and Joey would know a lot more about it than he did, but the AJ he’d seen, the Justin he’d met, that didn’t sound accurate at all.

            Then again, how much of AJ and Justin together, as a couple, had he really seen?

            “I still say Dan just broke them up so he could get Justin for himself,” Nick said.

            “Justin kept saying that they were just friends, and I believed it, but now I don’t know,” Joey said.  “He relies on Dan way too much.  I heard all about how Dan’s supposed to be helping him and rescuing him from a negative relationship and making him into an independent person, but it looks like all Dan’s doing is making Justin need him.”

            “Like Justin wasn’t an independent person before?” Nick asked.

            “I don’t trust Dan as far as I can throw him,” Joey said.

            “I don’t trust Estrada for shit,” Nick said.

            “It’s not like they’re out to destroy everyone’s relationship,” Ashley said.  He wasn’t happy with his friends at the moment, but he couldn’t just let Nick talk about them like that.

            “Why not?” Nick asked.  “You are.”

            “No, he’s not,” Joey said, rubbing Ashley’s lower back.

            “Do you have something bad to say about Trevor and Jacob, too?” Ashley asked Nick.

            “Trevor’s okay,” Nick asked.  “Brian says Jacob’s cool, so I’m okay with him, too.”

            “Is Brian the source of all wisdom?” Ashley asked.  “Brian says this, Brian says that, why does everyone care about what he thinks so much?”

            “Brian’s my best friend,” Nick said.  “I trust his judgment.  He’s right more often than I am.”

            Ashley was surprised.  “You’re willing to admit that you’ve been wrong?”

            “Sure,” Nick said.  “Everyone’s wrong about something at some point.”  He smiled.  “Except Kevin.  Kevin’s never wrong.”

Continue on to part forty-nine

matthew@matthewtime.com
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