Copyright November 24, 2002-November 12, 2004 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.

Dedication: I would like to thank Diamond, for stuff and things.

Continued from part four...

        JC opened the door.

        Joey hesitated.  “JC.”

        JC pushed aside Joey’s collar, stroking across his collarbone.  He looked into Joey’s eyes, asking.

        Joey swallowed.  “That was Ashley.  Yesterday afternoon.”  At least, he thought so.  He was almost entirely sure.  There was always the possibility that it had been Nick, but he couldn’t tell JC that.

        JC’s hand dropped.  “Chris is in the kitchen.  Come in.”

        Joey followed him inside.  Shit.  He and JC had always been close, they’d always been able to tell each other everything, absolutely everything, no barriers, no reluctance.  He knew that JC told him things JC didn’t tell anyone else, and he’d returned the favor with his own openness.  But now what?  He couldn’t talk to JC about last night, about Nick fucking him.

        “Hey, who was it?”  Chris was on his hands and knees, digging deep into the back of the refrigerator.

        “Just me,” Joey said, taking a seat at the table.  There were bowls and lids and condiments and leftovers and take-out containers all over the room.  “What are you doing?”

        “Cleaning,” Chris said.  “I already did my walk-in and two bathrooms.”

        “He didn’t sleep last night,” JC said.

        Joey didn’t bother to ask why.  He knew it was about Brian, in one way or another.  “How’ve you been doing?” he asked JC.

        “Okay,” JC said.  “I have to meet Howie later.”

        “Yeah, Nick’s,” shit, “calling later.”  Joey wasn’t used to censoring himself around JC.  Apparently, he sucked at it.

        JC just nodded and almost casually let his eyes drift elsewhere.

        Joey kicked himself.

        “Anybody want moldy barbecue?” Chris asked.

        “No, thanks,” Joey said.

        “It’s possible that this celery dates back to two tours ago,” Chris said.

        “You didn’t have this house then,” JC said.

        “I think I brought it with me when I moved,” Chris said.  “Justin’s coming over later.”

        “What’s he been up to?” Joey asked.  He hadn’t been keeping in touch; none of them had, not like usual.  They all understood why.  It was harder to do this without each other’s support, but they couldn’t face each other, not when there was so much guilt and betrayal in the air, on their faces.

        “Kevin, mostly,” Chris said.

        “He’s okay,” JC said.  “He’s still laying most of the groundwork.  Hanging out with Dan, letting things slip in conversation.”

        That meant that Justin and AJ hadn’t fucked.  Yet.

        “Is Brian fucking Lance?”

        Joey and JC looked at each other.  They couldn’t answer that question.  They couldn’t do that to Chris.

        Chris sat back on his heels, looking at them, setting aside a carton of orange juice.  “Is he?”

        Joey couldn’t believe that Chris was asking like this.  He sounded normal, too normal, like it was just a simple question, like the answer wouldn’t fucking kill him.

        “Whatever any of us do, right now, it doesn’t matter,” JC said.  “It doesn’t mean anything.  It’s a show, it’s for effect.”

        “Lance doesn’t care about Brian,” Joey said, knowing from personal experience that that made things better, and worse.  Justin didn’t care about AJ, Justin didn’t even like AJ, but Justin was still going to be naked in AJ’s bed, slicking his tongue into AJ’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around AJ’s naked, gorgeous, tattooed body.  He didn’t like Nick, but he still had Nick in his bed while JC didn’t.

        “Are they fucking?”  Chris knew that they were avoiding the question, knew what that meant.  “Are they screwing, are they kissing, are they playing naked Twister?” he demanded, growing more and more tense.  “Are they?!”

        “Lance is blowing him,” Joey said, betraying Lance when he couldn’t betray himself to JC.  “Lance is giving him head.”

        “Okay.”  Chris looked away, even though Joey was sure he wasn’t looking at anything.  “Okay.”  Chris’s hands fumbled; he leaned back into the refrigerator.  “Okay,” he said, his voice breaking.  Glass shattered, and Joey got to his feet, worried.  “Shit,” Chris said, “shit, shit,” and the words were common but the anguish was unimaginable, and the sound of Chris in pain like that went right through Joey.

        JC was already up and coming around the open refrigerator door, kneeling at Chris’s side.  “I know, I know.  I know,” he said, hugging Chris while Joey reached around them to gather the shards of glass.  Chris was still saying, “Shit, shit, shit,” and pressing his hands to his eyes like if he ground his eyeballs to dust he wouldn’t be this close to tears.  “I’m sorry, honey.  It’s just sex, it isn’t like it was with you.  Brian won’t even kiss him, they’ve never kissed.”

        “Brian did kiss you, right?” Joey asked Chris, suddenly wondering, trying to remember ever seeing it.  Maybe Brian didn’t kiss the guys he mindfucked, ever.

        Chris laughed, or made a noise that was a horrible parody of laughter.  “He said he loved kissing me.  He said…”  Chris choked.  “He…”

        “I know,” JC said, hugging him closer.  “I know, honey, it’s okay.  It’s okay.”  JC rubbed Chris’s back.  “It’s okay.”

        Joey, feeling like shit, worried about Chris, kept cleaning.

        The doorbell rang.

        “It’s just Justin,” JC said, massaging gently between Chris’s shoulder blades.  “He’ll come in.”

        Not who Joey wanted to see, but it wasn’t like Justin could make the situation any worse.

        “Hey.  What’s going on?”

        Joey’s head came up fast.  Lance was in the doorway.

        “No, Chris,” JC said, trying to hold onto him.  Chris was up, coming around the table, heading straight for Lance.  “Chris,” JC said, standing, too late.

        Stopping short just before making physical contact, Chris stared into Lance’s face.  He was shaking, and his hands were clenched into fists so tightly they had to hurt.  He didn’t yell, and he hadn’t been crying, but the agony and betrayal were almost open wounds.

        “Chris,” Lance said.  He had to have known why Chris was upset; he didn’t need to ask.  “I’m sorry.”

        Joey gently put his hands on Chris’s arms, guiding him back.

        “I hate them,” JC said.  “I hate them, all five of them, for what they’ve done to us.  And I hate Erik.  Every time he opens his mouth I want to punch him.  He’s lazy, he’s careless, he doesn’t care about anything, he won’t commit or sacrifice or work.  He doesn’t deserve this life, he isn’t even willing to work for it, he isn’t grateful for anything when he’s being handed everything.  I hate him,” JC insisted vehemently, “I want to see him suffer.  We’ve gone through too much professionally, and suffered too much personally, to let them go.  We have to punish them for their public disrespect, and we have to make them suffer the way Kevin and Brian and AJ and Howie and Nick made us suffer.  We’ll never be able to get Kevin back for what he’s done to Justin, I wouldn’t know how to make Brian pay, but we can take it out on someone else, someone who deserves it.”

        “We can’t stop now,” Joey said.  “We’re getting too close.  I’m too close to breaking Ashley.  This isn’t over until we’ve finished it.”

        “I hate them, you hate them, we all hate them,” Lance said.  “We can do this.”

        “Does he kiss you?” Chris asked Lance, not seeming to have listened to the conversation, too focused on Lance, on Brian.

        “No,” Lance said.  “He hasn’t really touched me.”

        “Why not?” Joey asked.  That was insulting.

        “I don’t know.  Maybe he doesn’t want me,” Lance said.

        “Then why are you…”  Joey knew he probably shouldn’t have asked that, but this relationship didn’t make sense.  None of their relationships made sense.

        Lance shrugged, uncomfortable.  “Howie wants me to.  And Brian seems to like it when I’m doing it.”

        JC scratched his head.  “Do you get the feeling the Boys are sitting behind the scenes comparing notes on what we’re like in bed?”

        “Yeah,” Lance said.

        It made sense, to Joey, but that was fucking embarrassing.  When girls did it, sure, great, he had no problem with that, because he was pretty sure he’d come across well, but Nick and AJ, sitting back and discussing him?  He had to wonder, again, why he’d put himself in this horrible position.

        “Maybe we should discuss what they’re like in bed,” Chris said, finally stepping back from Lance, seeming to come back to himself.

        JC hesitated.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

        “We can’t make them jealous, can we?” Chris asked.  “There’s no possible way.”

        “They know they have the upper hand,” Joey said.  “They know that if they want us, they can have us.”  It hurt his pride to admit it, but it was true, and he was with people who understood.

        The doorbell rang.  “I’ll get it,” Lance said.

        “He’s still sleeping with Howie, isn’t he?” Chris asked, when Lance had gone.

        “Yeah,” Joey said.  “I think he’s getting it while he can, before…”  Before JC took his place.

        “Chris,” Lance said, walking into the kitchen.  His voice was different.  A little harder, a little displeased.  “Kevin’s here.”

        “Shit,” Chris said, running his hands over his face.

        “Isn’t Justin coming over any minute now?” Joey asked.

        “Shit,” Chris repeated, leaving the kitchen quickly.

        Joey closed the refrigerator door.  The three of them sat at the table.  Joey toyed with a Tupperware lid, unfamiliar with the tension in the room.  He wasn’t used to censoring his conversation around JC or Lance, so he decided to give up and be himself.  “Nick’s dick is bigger than mine.  It pisses me off.”

        “What have you guys done?” JC asked.

        Joey hesitated.  Already, that was a question he didn’t want to have to answer, for JC’s sake.  “Last night, we put on a show for Ashley.  And before that, we, he fucked me.  He told me to close my eyes and think about AJ.”

        “He told me to let Erik fuck me,” JC said.

        “Damn,” Joey said.

        “I’m not touching Jacob unless I can disinfect him first,” Lance said.

        “Ashley gave me head yesterday,” Joey said.  “He was horrible, he had no idea what he was doing, not even the second time.”

        “Brian wants me to…  I’m supposed to give Jacob head,” Lance said.  “I’m not going to be able to do it.  I hate him, I want to destroy him, I’ll give anything to the cause, but that’s too much.  I can’t do it.”

        “If I had to touch Jacob, I’d end up strangling him,” Joey said.  “I hate Ashley, but at least he’s making it worth my time.  I know he would’ve let me fuck him yesterday.”

        “Is he any good at anything?” JC asked.

        Joey shrugged.  “He lets me come on his face.”

        “Are you kidding?” JC asked.

        “He lets you?” Lance asked.

        “The first time, it was on purpose, and he let me.  The second time, he couldn’t swallow, he was choking, so I pulled out and finished on his face.  He was so embarrassed about fucking it up, he didn’t complain.”

        “He sounds pretty obedient,” Lance said.

        “He’s a sub and a whore,” Joey said.  “I think he’s figuring that out, too.”

        -Kevin’s car.  Kevin’s car, that was Kevin’s car, he’d been inside that car, that was Kevin’s car with Kevin’s license plates.

        Justin slipped out of his car automatically, stepping closer.  Kevin’s car.  Kevin was here.  Kevin was inside.

        Knowing that he’d be at a place where Kevin would be, Justin could prepare for the impact.  Stumbling onto Kevin unexpectedly, the shock of it was too great.  The sudden flare of Kevin within him swept Justin up in need, and quickening love, and eager desire.

        Not bothering to ring or knock, Justin let himself into Chris’s house, scanning rooms quickly, moving down the hallway.  “Chris,” he called, “Chris!  Chris!”  He knew better than to call for Kevin; Kevin wasn’t even remotely at his beck and call.  Rushing, in a near panic, dick hardening with excitement and anticipation, Justin turned a corner.

        “Justin,” Joey’s voice said.

        “J,” JC said, demanding his attention.

        Distracted, Justin turned and saw Joey, JC, and Lance in a doorway.  Right, their cars had been out there, too.  “Where’s Kevin?” Justin asked.

        “Come in here,” JC said.

        “Kevin’s here,” Justin said.  “Where is he?”

        “He’s talking to Chris,” Lance said.

        “Come in here and sit down,” JC said.

        “Kevin’s here,” Justin said.  “I didn’t know he’d be here.”

        “Hey,” Chris said behind him.

         Justin whirled around.  “Kevin?”

        “He just left,” Chris said.

        “Don’t - - J-”

        Justin ran.  Skidding across the foyer, he wrenched open the front door.  Kevin was walking away, to the car, and Justin was there in seconds, standing in front of him, looking into his eyes, wanting, feeling, as desperate for Kevin’s time and attention as he’d ever been.  Just a word, just a look-

        “Justin.”  Kevin lazily jingled his keys in one hand.  “Don’t embarrass me in public.”

        “What are you going to do tonight?” Justin asked, hearing how breathless he sounded.

        “What I do, tonight or any other time, is none of your business,” Kevin said.  He opened his car door, putting it between himself and Justin.

        Justin put his hands over the top of it.  “Kevin.”

        “Get away from my car,” Kevin said quietly, eyes hard.  If it weren’t for the risk of being seen, Kevin would be letting Justin know exactly how unacceptable his behavior was.

        Kevin’s eyes were so green it hurt.  “Please,” Justin whispered.

        “If I ever want to fuck you again, I’ll let you know,” Kevin said.  “But I don’t want you now, and you’re not good for anything else.  Get away from my car, and stay away from me.”  He got in the car and closed the door.  Justin snatched his hands back just in time to avoid losing fingers.  He stood there, unmoving, watching while Kevin backed up and drove away.

        “Yeah,” Chris said, behind him.  “Staring at the spot you saw him last won’t make him come back.  Believe me, I’ve tried it.  Come on inside.”

        “He’s not going to fuck Trevor tonight, is he?” Justin asked, still not moving.

        “No,” Chris said.  “Not tonight.”

        Justin slowly turned.  Chris walked him back into the house.

        “He is pretty damned good-looking,” Chris said.

        “He’s perfect,” Justin said.

        “Yeah,” Chris said.  “I know.”

        “It’s a little early to get ready,” Dan said from his doorway.

        “Not if it takes me too long to get dressed,” Ashley said.  “You’re coming tonight, aren’t you?”

        “I don’t know,” Dan said.  “I don’t think so.  It sounds pretty private, invitation only.”

        “Justin didn’t invite you?” Ashley asked.

        “Not in so many words, no.”

        “Where’s Erik?” Trevor asked from the hallway.

        “I thought he was in his room,” Dan said.

        “Trevor,” Ashley called.  “Tell Dan he has to come tonight.”

        “You have to come tonight,” Trevor said.  “What, you’re trying to back out?”

        “I was never invited,” Dan said, coming in to sit on the bed.

        “I’m inviting you,” Trevor said.  “Chris said to bring all of you, anyway.”

        “That includes you,” Ashley told Dan.

        “I don’t think Jacob’s going, either,” Dan said.

        “Shit,” Trevor said.  “I didn’t talk to him about it.”

        “He’s coming,” Ashley said.

        “Since when?” Dan asked.

        “Since we’re going to make him,” Ashley said.

        “It isn’t really Jacob’s crowd,” Trevor said.

        “We’ll be there,” Ashley said.  He tried on a shirt.  “We’ve all been pretty busy and distracted.  We should all go out tonight, together.”

        “I thought you were going to spend time with Joey,” Dan said.

        “Not tonight,” Ashley said.  “Nick’s going to be there.”

         Dan decided not to comment on that.

        “Chris is going to introduce me to Kevin,” Trevor said.

        “That should be huge for you,” Dan said.

        “Try not to choke,” Erik said, coming into the room.

        “I’m not going to choke,” Trevor said.  “It’s not even going to be that big of a deal.  He treated Chris pretty badly.  I don’t think he’s the person I thought he was.”

        “He’s still the same guy whose posters you plastered all over your room,” Erik said.

        “It’s hard to get over that,” Ashley said.

        “Hey, people have posters of me now,” Trevor said.  “I’m meeting him as an equal, not as a groupie.”

        “Oh, right,” Erik said.

        “Sure,” Ashley said.

        “Of course,” Dan said.

        Erik snorted.

        “Why shouldn’t he?” Chris asked, watching Justin dial.  “I call Brian all of the time.”

        “You can’t give him the upper hand,” Joey said.

        Justin snorted at that, listening to the phone ring.

        “He’s not even home yet,” Lance said.

        “If he does get home, he might answer,” Chris said.  “He’ll think it’s me calling, from this phone.”

        Justin stared at Chris, eyes lighting.

        “You’re not helping,” JC told Chris.

        “If I called from your house, Brian would answer, wouldn’t he?” Chris asked Lance.

        “Probably,” Lance said.

        “And your cell phone?”

        “Probably,” Lance said.

        “Give it to me,” Chris said.

        “Chris,” Joey said.

        “Give it to me,” Chris insisted, holding out his hands.

        “Think about this,” JC said.

        “Let him have it,” Justin said, dialing again.

        “You don’t leave messages?” Joey asked Justin.

        “Sometimes,” Justin said.

        “Sometimes there’s nothing to say,” Chris said.

        Justin nodded, listening to the rings.

        Lance handed Chris his phone.  “I’m impressed,” he explained to JC.

        Chris dialed.

        “What if he answers?” Joey asked.

        “Don’t you ever call AJ?” Justin asked.

        “Not anymore,” Joey said.

        Chris pushed at Joey’s chest to get him to shut up, listening intently.

        Everyone waited.

        Chris hung up.  “Voice mail.  Can I keep this?” he asked Lance.

        “No,” Lance said, taking the phone from him.

        “You were listening that hard for voice mail?” Joey asked.

        “It was Brian’s voice,” Chris said.

        “Yes,” Jacob said.  “What’s with the invasion of the centerfolds?”

        “We do look pretty damned good, don’t we?” Trevor asked, draping himself over a chair.

        “You know we’re going out tonight,” Erik said.

        “And you’re coming with us,” Ashley added.

        “Let’s find you something to wear,” Erik suggested.

        “Let’s not,” Jacob said.  “I’m sure you’ll all have a great time without me.”

        “We’d have a better time with you,” Dan said.

        “You never wear these pants,” Erik said, half-buried in Jacob’s closet.

        “He thinks they’re too tight,” Ashley said.

        “Then get a shoehorn, and let’s go,” Erik said.

        “I’m not going,” Jacob said.

        “Why not?” Trevor asked.

        “I hated Justin’s party, and this one’s going to be just as bad,” Jacob said.

        “This is at Howie’s club,” Erik said.

        “Great, a Backstreet Boy instead of someone from *NSYNC, that should make all the difference,” Jacob said.

        “Ashley might not get freaked in a go-go cage at this one,” Erik said.

        Ashley whapped Erik.  “Shut up.”

        Dan sat beside Jacob on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard as Jacob was doing.  “I know you hate *NSYNC and Backstreet.  But these guys are getting pretty attached, so they might be around for a while.  Our lives are getting tangled up.  It might be easier if we all tried to coexist.”

        Ashley sat by Jacob’s feet, giving Jacob his most earnest look.  “Joey’s really important to me.  Just come tonight, please.  They’re good guys, I promise you.”

        “You know JC’s wild, Howie’s amazing, this is going to be a great night,” Erik said.

        Trevor sat beside Ashley.  “You don’t have to have a good time.  You can hate every second of it.”

        “But we want you there,” Ashley said.  “It would mean a lot to us.”

        “I’ll hang out with you,” Dan said.  “We can pretend it’s a regular night at a regular club.”

        “I’m not getting dressed up,” Jacob said.

        “We’ll take care of it,” Ashley promised, and hurried to join Erik at the closet.

        Jacob looked at Dan.  “You owe me.”

        “We’ll have a good time,” Dan promised.

        Trevor’s four little friends were behind them in a second car.  Everyone was present and accounted for.  When they got to the club, Chris walked them to the front door, presenting himself to the bouncer.

        “Chris Kirkpatrick, go on in.”

        “They’re all with me,” Chris said.

        “Sorry,” and the bouncer mysteriously put himself between Chris and the others.  “Private party.  Only people on the list allowed.”

        “This is O-Town,” Chris explained.

        “I’m sorry, only people on the list.  Mr. Dorough’s orders.”

        “I should be on the list,” Erik said.  “Erik-Michael Estrada.”

        The bouncer checked.  “Go ahead in.”

        “What about Ashley Angel?” Erik asked.

        “No.”

        “Trevor Penick?”

        “Nope.”

        Erik looked at the others.

        “Go ahead,” Dan said.

        “We’ll be okay,” Jacob said.

        “Yeah,” Ashley said.

        “Have fun,” Trevor said.

        “I don’t want to go without you,” Erik said.  “I’ll get Howie to let you in.”

        Brian showed up at that moment, coming up behind them on the sidewalk.  “What’s up?”

        “We’re not all on the list,” Ashley said.  Chris was glad Ashley had spoken up, because he’d completely forgotten his line.  He was pretty sure he was about to hyperventilate.  God, Brian was standing right there, glancing in his direction like they were acquaintances, which was the furthest thing from the truth possible.  And Brian looked good, Brian looked wonderful, his hair curling onto his forehead, warm and friendly concern in his eyes.

        “Oh, that’s okay,” Brian said.  “You guys want to come in?”

        “We’re dressed for it,” Dan said.

        “They’re with me,” Brian told the bouncer.  That, too, was a complete and utter lie.  Chris wasn’t remotely with Brian, in any way.  Brian always had been a beautiful liar.

        “Welcome,” the bouncer said, moving the rope, stepping aside.

        “Come on,” Brian said, plucking Jacob’s sleeve, leading the way into the club.

        “Why don’t you have that kind of authority?” Trevor asked Chris, following him inside.

        “This is Backstreet territory,” Chris said.  “They don’t trust my kind.”  He couldn’t believe his voice worked.  It wasn’t very steady, but Trevor couldn’t have noticed that over the club music.

        Howie came forward, greeting Brian and steering him towards a table, leaving a kiss on Erik’s lips and murmuring something into his ear.

        Brian caught Howie’s elbow.  “No one else is here yet?”

        “You know they prefer dramatic entrances,” Howie said.

        Brian turned to Jacob, looking right into his eyes.  Hatred burned in Chris’s chest.  “Our table’s going to be empty for a while.  It’s the best table here.  There’s plenty of room for you.”

        “Are you sure?” Jacob asked.

        “We can talk for a while before the party gets started,” Brian said, as though the club weren’t crowded with a wild party already.

        “Thanks,” Jacob said.  “That’d be great.”  He followed Brian, and the other guys followed him.

        Chris held Trevor back.  “What’s your second-best table?” he asked Howie.

        “Right over here,” Howie said, showing him to a spot within viewing distance of Brian’s table, but still semi-private

        “Thanks,” Chris said.

        “What’s wrong with their table?” Trevor asked, taking a seat with him.

        “I’d prefer not to spend my night playing the eyefuck game with the Boys,” Chris said.  “I’d rather play footsies with you.”  Brian was in the room.  Brian was in the room.  Brian was touching Jacob.  “Do you want to dance?”

        “Sure,” Trevor said.  He hesitated.

        Chris hesitated, too.  He, himself, wasn’t sure what he’d meant by that.  Had he been asking, “Do you want to dance with me?” or “Do you want to find a girl and dance with her while I do the same?”

        “I’ve never danced with a guy,” Trevor said.

        “Never?” Chris asked.

        “I’ve danced with Ashley and Dan,” Trevor said.  “And Erik and Jacob.  But not with, not for real.  Can we…is this club okay?”

        “Yeah,” Chris said.  “Howie wants to be able to relax with JC.  He’s made sure it’s a safe crowd.  That’s one of the reasons no one’s allowed in who’s not on the list.”

        “Hey.”  Brian was at Chris’s side, Jacob right beside him.  “We’re taking orders.  You want anything?”  His fingers lingered on the back of Chris’s chair, managing not to brush Chris.

        Jacob cleared his throat and nudged Brian.  Chris saw red.

        Brian smiled at Trevor.  “We haven’t officially met.  I’m Brian,” he said, extending his hand.

        “Trevor,” Trevor said, shaking his hand.  Chris was sure that Trevor was geeking, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Brian.  “I’m sorry, I can’t order drinks from you, that would be too surreal.”

        “You can order drinks from Jacob,” Brian said.

        “He wants a Schmirnoff,” Jacob said.

        “Chris?” Brian asked.

        “Nothing,” Chris said too quickly, shifting his gaze to somewhere around Jacob’s elbow the second Brian’s attention shifted to him.   There was no way that he could make eye contact with Brian, no way, no fucking way, he’d die, he’d hyperventilate and die, he’d turn into a screaming maniac lunatic and hyperventilate and die.  And Brian still wouldn’t love him.

        “You have to get something,” Trevor said.

        “I’m fine,” Chris told Jacob’s elbow.

        “Crown and Coke,” Trevor said.  Which, actually, was what Chris would have wanted, if he’d wanted anything besides Brian.

        “Great,” Brian said, and left with Jacob.

        Chris, staring where Jacob’s elbow had been, was vaguely aware that Trevor was leaning towards him across the table.  “Are you okay?” Trevor asked.  “Chris.  Chris.”

        Chris dragged his attention back to the present, reminding himself of what he was supposed to be doing.  “Maybe this was a mistake,” he said.  He hated Trevor for knowing what he liked to drink, as though they were friends who could order for each other like that.  If anyone in that moment should have been able to order for Chris, it should have been Brian, Brian who knew everything about him, Brian who knew him so intimately he didn’t know himself now that Brian was gone.  “I shouldn’t be here.  We shouldn’t have come here.”

        “What’s wrong?” Trevor asked, looking concerned.  His beautiful eyes did concern very well.

        “You’ve never been in love,” Chris said.

        “No,” Trevor said.

        “You wouldn’t understand,” Chris said.  “You can’t understand.”

        “Do you want to leave?” Trevor asked.

        A ripple went through the crowd.  Out of habit, Chris looked towards the front.

        Kevin.

        Resolve hit Chris.  It was decision time.  Either he was going to leave and take Trevor with him, cutting off the evil plan, saving Trevor, turning his back on the plot, keeping Trevor whole.  Or else he was going to deliver Trevor straight into Kevin’s hands, dooming Trevor to a hell he himself was quite familiar with, committing himself to doing unto others what had been done to him.

        He liked Trevor.  He really liked Trevor, and he really didn’t want to.

        That decided him.  Chris got up, taking Trevor’s hand.  “Come on.”

        The thing was, Trevor felt good.  Touching him tended to send a warm flush up from Chris’s hand.  Being palm to palm, fingers laced, made Chris’s entire arm warm.  Chris pulled him along through the crowd, toward the front, and brushed people aside, stopping short right in front of Kevin.  “Kevin.”

        “Chris,” Kevin said.  His voice was wary.  His eyes were displeased.  Chris was deviating from script.  Kevin did not appreciate his improvisation.

        “I want you to meet someone.  Kevin Richardson, Trevor Penick.”  He dropped Trevor’s hand and stepped aside.

        “Hi,” Trevor said.  His eyes were wide.  He was offering his hand like he was sure Kevin wouldn’t take it.

        “Trevor,” Kevin said, and shook his hand.  “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

        “I’ve heard a lot about you,” Trevor said.

        Kevin deliberately glanced at Chris.  “I’m sure you have.”  He released Trevor’s hand and smiled.  He looked gorgeous, and he looked nice, and Trevor’s wide-eyed gaze flickered wildly between suspicion and worship.  His gaze settled on Chris, and it was almost warm.  “How’re you?”

        “I’m great,” Chris said.  He felt great.  He’d settled his moral dilemma, and now everything was out of his hands.  It was freeing.  Trevor was shark bait, but that wasn’t his problem anymore.  “How about you?”

        “I’m fine,” Kevin said, just as Brian walked over to them.  “Hey,” he said to Brian.

        “You made it,” Brian said.  “Here you go,” he said to Chris and Trevor, handing over drinks.  Chris avoided eye contact, sipping his drink with great interest.  “We’re sitting over there,” he told Kevin, as though they wouldn’t have their usual table.

        “Great,” Kevin said.  “You want to join us?” he asked Chris and Trevor.

        “Sure,” Chris said.  He looked to Trevor for confirmation.  Trevor’s eyes were full of questions.  “We’ll be right there,” Chris told Kevin.

        “Great,” Kevin said again, and walked away with Brian, probably to tell Brian how badly Chris was misbehaving.

        Chris stepped closer to Trevor.  “How’s he look close up?”

        “Are you sure you want to do this?” Trevor asked.  “We can go.”

        Trevor was serious.  Trevor meant what he was saying.  Chris was touched.  Trevor really cared about him, enough to put him first.  Trevor was a good friend.

        Chris had made the wrong decision.

        It wasn’t too late.  He could change directions.  They could still leave, escape; he could salvage this.

        Except he hated Trevor.  Didn’t he?  He wanted to make Trevor pay.  For what?  He wanted to make Trevor suffer.  Right?

        “I don’t know what to do,” he said, dropping the script entirely for a second of honesty.

        “We can leave,” Trevor said.  “We can stay.  We don’t have to sit with them, if we stay.”

        “Kevin’s your idol,” Chris said.

        “I came here with you,” Trevor said.  “If you don’t want to be here, we’ll do something else.”

        Chris saw nothing but concern and warmth in Trevor’s eyes.  Trevor was a good person.  He hadn’t known that when he’d signed on for this.  He hadn’t counted on actually feeling something.  Something this good.

        But there was Jacob.  Erik.  Ashley.  Even Dan.  There was Lance and JC and Justin and Joey.  There was Kevin.

        There was Brian.

        Brian wanted him to do this.

        If he didn’t do this, Brian would be upset with him.  It would be an act of defiance.

        That had a strong appeal, all of its own.

        But in the end, Chris was Brian’s.  He did whatever Brian wanted.  He was whoever Brian wanted him to be.  Brian wanted him to betray Trevor, and Brian wanted him to be obedient.

        Chris had never destroyed someone he loved before.

        He took Trevor’s hand, squeezing it, and took Trevor back to the table where Kevin and Brian were waiting for them.

        “The remix?” Trevor asked.

        “It’s great,” Howie said.

        “I really like it,” Kevin said.

        “I love it,” Chris said, just to one-up everyone else.

        “JC did a great job,” Erik said.

        “He did,” Brian agreed.  “So did Jacob,” he added, flashing Jacob a smile.

        “Thanks,” Jacob said.

        “I’d give JC the credit,” Ashley teased.

        “Your voice is so unique,” Brian told Jacob.  “I love it.”

        “It’s okay,” Erik said, stirring his drink.  “Ow!” he exclaimed, sitting up straighter.

        “Sorry,” Jacob said.  “My foot slipped.”

        “Where is JC?” Erik asked.

        “He’ll be here,” Howie said.  “He stopped to pick up Lance.”

        “Lance?” Brian asked.

        Howie nodded.

        Jacob’s gaze narrowed slightly.

        “Do you dance?” Kevin asked Trevor.

        “All of the time,” Trevor said.

        “How about now?” Kevin asked.

        “With you?” Trevor asked, immediately lapsing into starstruck awe.

        “Is that a problem?” Kevin asked, letting his gaze drift to Chris.

        Trevor hesitated, remembering.

        “Put me on your dance card for the next song,” Chris told Trevor.

        “Okay,” Trevor said.  “Sure.”  He got up and left for the dance floor with Kevin.

        Chris took a drink.

        “Hey.”  JC was there, Lance right behind him.  Chris was so happy to see them, he could barely stay in his seat.  Finally, someone he could actually talk to, someone in his position, a source of support.  His night had been hell.  He couldn’t really blame Trevor for that, or even Kevin.  He blamed Brian.  He also most definitely blamed Jacob.  He’d spent the past half hour internally debating the obvious merits of breaking off the end of a bottle and shoving it into Jacob’s neck and/or face.

        Howie stood, putting his arm around JC, brushing a too slow, lingering kiss over JC’s lips.  “We’ve been waiting for you,” he said, gazing into JC’s eyes.

        It was dark, but Chris was not imagining JC’s blush.  Screw Trevor; Chris pulled Lance into the seat beside him.  They could suffer together.  “How are you doing?” Lance asked quietly.

        Chris actually had intended to ask Lance the same question.  He watched JC kiss the corner of Erik’s mouth and murmur something private by Erik’s ear.  “It’s been interesting,” he said, as if that covered anything.

        “A little surreal?” Lance guessed.

        “More than a little,” Chris said.

        “Where’s Trevor?”

        “Dancing with Kevin,” Chris said.

        Lance raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

        Chris wondered how JC could stand kissing Erik.  He couldn’t have touched Erik, personally, and he didn’t even have JC’s high standards.

        “Joey and Nick aren’t here yet?” Lance asked, loudly enough to be overheard now.

        “They’re probably,” and Chris made a vague gesture.

        “Sounds right,” Lance agreed.  The waitress came by, and he ordered a drink.  “Did you talk to Justin?”

        “Yeah,” Chris said.  “He’s sounded happier.”

        “He’s sounded saner,” Lance said.  “Why does he put himself through that shit?”

        “He’s in love,” Chris said, and batted his eyelashes.

        “He’s in love, Joey’s in heat…”

        “Here’s to bachelorhood,” Chris said, raising his glass.

        JC and Howie got up and disappeared.

        “They’re a happy couple,” Lance said.

        “They’re perfect, and it’s disgusting,” Chris said.  “If they could breed, they’d have perfect happy super-children with miracle DNA.”

        “JC’s never stayed with anyone this long,” Lance said.

        “No one’s ever been worth this much of his time before,” Chris said.  He was aware that Erik, at least, was listening intently to their conversation.  That was the point, but still...  Bastard.

        “Hey.”  Trevor was standing by his chair, Kevin taking a seat.  “You want to dance?”

        “Ask one of your little friends,” Chris said, gesturing around the table.

        “Come on,” Trevor said, pulling him to his feet.  “We danced at Justin’s party.”

        Yes, but then, they’d managed to keep at least one girl between them.  Now, it was going to be only them, and Chris wasn’t sure how comfortable he was with that idea.  He was too attached to Trevor, pointlessly attached.  Still, Chris relented, following Trevor to the mass of dancing bodies.

        Trevor danced kind of the way Justin did, and kind of the way Joey did.  It was masculine, and sexual, and confidently graceful, his hips rolling suggestively, his hands pulling Chris this way and that for better positioning.  For someone who didn’t dance with guys, he wasn’t having any trouble getting into it.  He put one hand on Chris’s hip and kept it there, coaxing Chris into his rhythm, his smile flashing bright, his eyes sparkling in the moving lights.

        He was hard, but Chris wasn’t all that surprised by it or all that willing to attribute it entirely to himself.  Chris was starting to get hard, too, and when Trevor urged him closer, close enough to feel it, Trevor gave him a warm, knowing grin.

        Trevor liked being wanted.

        They stayed out there for five songs straight, dancing a little closer and a little hotter with each passing minute.  Trevor really was a good dancer, and he grinned when Chris touched him, like they were playing a fun game.  For Chris, it wasn’t a game at all, but he didn’t tell Trevor that, just soaked up the feel of Trevor’s warmth through his hands.

        “Hey.”  The beat was changing, and Kevin was beside them.  “Mind if I borrow Chris?” he asked, already sliding his arm around Chris’s waist, curving his hand around Chris’s hip familiarly.

        Something happened behind Trevor’s eyes.  Some of that seriousness, that weight, returned.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Sure.”  He looked at them too long, and then left.

        Kevin pulled Chris deeper into the crowd, moving around behind him.  He had his hand flat over Chris’s pelvic bone, about an inch away from Chris’s dick, and he was rolling and grinding deep and low.  Chris remembered having been shocked, the first time he’d seen Kevin and Justin dance together.

        His hard-on was starting to go away; at least that was something.

        “I hope I can count on you.”  Kevin’s voice was right by his ear, low and dark.  He shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the music, but it was coming in under the music, winding straight into his brain.

        Kevin’s thumb rubbed up and down over Chris’s dick.

        Chris lost the beat, fumbling for a moment.

        “Brian’s not going to fuck you,” Kevin said.

        No.  No, that wasn’t true.  Kevin didn’t know that for sure.  It could happen.  It still might happen.  Chris just had to, just had to do the right thing, or be the right way, or just wait, if he just-

        “That boy can’t give you what you need.”

        Trevor couldn’t give him Brian, could never give him Brian, but Trevor might be nice to him, might take pity on him, might give him some kind of comfort, some kind of release.  It had been such, such a long time since Chris had found anything that even temporarily eased the pain…

        “If you behave yourself, and you ask for it, I might fuck you.”

        Chris almost fell still.  It was only the driving rhythm of Kevin’s hips and the hand on his pelvis that kept him in motion.  Kevin might fuck him.  Kevin was close to Brian.  Kevin was Brian’s cousin.  Kevin might fuck him.  Chris tried to turn-

        “Not now.”

        There had been women before Brian.  There had been men and women after Brian.  But everyone before Brian had been obliterated, because there was absolutely no comparison; and everyone after Brian had been a desperate, pathetic attempt to dull the constant, terrible ache.  Finally, he’d given up entirely; a night alone with his memories, killing as it was, was less painful than touching someone else.

        But this was Kevin.  A link to Brian.  It wouldn’t be anything like making love with Brian, and he didn’t even want Kevin, not really, but it would bring him, at least for a moment, closer to Brian.  And that was all Chris wanted.

        Kevin’s hand covered his dick, fingers curving down and pressing in.  Chris almost moaned.  A hand on his dick, a man’s hand on his dick, god, his body remembered this, his body loved this.  He got a lot harder, fast, and Kevin’s hand squeezed gently before going on the move, fingers tracing the outline of his dick through his pants, finding his dimensions.  He knew this sort of touch, he’d had this before; Kevin was feeling for how big he was, how long, how thick, just how sensitive.  Tiny squeezes all the way up the shaft, the heel of Kevin’s palm exerting pressure on the head, stroking the sides all the way down, feeling for his balls.  Chris was so hard his whole body ached, and he ground his ass back against Kevin’s dick.

        “Did you ever fuck Justin?”

        Chris’s eyes flew open.  He hadn’t realized they’d been shut.

        “You should try it.”

        That was - - that was fucking - - Chris tried to jerk away, but Kevin gave him a too-hard, painful squeeze, and he froze.

        “You’ll leave when I’m finished with you,” Kevin said in his ear.  It was a cold voice, a hard voice, an evil voice.  Chris swallowed, staying put.  “When you take Trevor home, kiss him.  You can give him tongue, but not too much, and don’t kiss him for too long.  Tell him I think he’s gorgeous.  Tell him I said if he were any older…”

        Kevin’s hand was flat against his stomach.  His dick, just below, was throbbing and aching, refusing to go down.

        “Got that?” Kevin whispered.

        Chris nodded.

        “Good boy.”  Kevin patted his stomach.  “Make sure he sees how hard you are.”

        Hard, he was fucking near orgasm.  Chris worked his way through the crowd carefully, surprised he could even walk.  He saw Trevor at the table, beside Ashley, so he went straight there.  He felt like there was a sign over his head, Dick on Display, but he was getting used to humiliating himself.  He tapped Trevor’s shoulder.  “Is this seat taken?”

        Trevor glanced up at him with a smile, pulling out the chair.  “We ordered another round.”  Chris moved into the seat, and as he did, he saw the moment his hard-on registered in Trevor’s eyes.  Trevor looked out towards the dance floor, then back at Chris, but he didn’t say anything.

        Chris looked to the other end of the table.

        Brian was leaning in close, talking to Jacob.  Had he even noticed that Chris was there?

        “I got it,” Justin said.  They’d been over this.

        “Dan is your new best friend,” AJ said.  “You’re all about him.  Talk with him, laugh with him, drink with him, dance with him.  Make him feel how golden you are.”

        “I’m on top, I’m the best thing ever, you’re my joy and inspiration,” Justin said.  “Can we do this?”

        “Don’t piss me off,” AJ said.  “I will hit you.”

        Justin stared at him.  That…  Was he serious?  He was fucking serious.  AJ was…  Had AJ hit Joey?  AJ hit Joey?  Justin’s mind scrambled back, trying to remember - - bruises, swelling, odd comments - - but Joey didn’t bruise easily, and he didn’t remember anything, didn’t-

        AJ’s arm came around his waist, hand sliding into his back pocket, gently palming his ass.  Justin moved forward automatically, trying to fit against AJ, feeling clumsy, awkward.  AJ hadn’t been serious, that had been a lie, an exaggeration.  AJ wouldn’t hit him, that would cross the line, that would-

        What line?  There was no line, there never had been a line.  There hadn’t been a line since this thing had started.  There hadn’t been a line since the first time Kevin had taught him to hate himself.

        They stepped into the club.  AJ pocketed his shades, giving Howie a one-armed hug without releasing Justin.  JC, right at Howie’s side, greeted Justin warmly but with warning and regret in his eyes.

        This was going to be a rough night.  Justin sucked it up, pulling JC close enough to whisper, “Is he here?”

        “Yeah,” JC whispered, ducking his head to shield their conversation.  “He’s already here, and Chris is dying out there.”

        Justin nodded.

        The hand on his ass squeezed, and AJ led him off in a new direction, towards the back of the club.  Justin scanned the crowd desperately, searching, searching-

        Kevin.

        Justin caught his breath.

        Kevin was resting his ass on the edge of a table, his long legs out before him, ankles crossed, arms crossed, talking to Trevor, who was standing in front of him like a fucking groupie.  He looked amazing, confident, in charge, and Justin wanted to-

        “We say hello, we hit the floor,” AJ whispered.  “Don’t even try to talk to him.  He doesn’t want to see you tonight.”

        He-

        “Hey,” AJ said, disengaging, clapping Kevin on the shoulder, walking around to Brian.  He draped his jacket over a chair, displaying his lean, muscular form.

        “Where’ve you been?” Lance asked, and Justin remembered that people other than Kevin and AJ were in the room.  People like Lance and Chris, Lance looking at him a little too hard, Chris looking a little green around the edges.  Justin took in a breath and widened his vision to include Trevor again, and Jacob, and Dan, and Ashley, and Erik.  Trevor, who was still talking to Kevin and listening with rapt attention; Jacob who was sharing conversation with Brian with the focus most people reserved for sharing sex; Dan and Ashley and Erik and Justin wanted to kill them all, hated them, wanted to see them die.  He’d already hated them, hated them for their arrogance, for their ingratitude, for their presumptuousness, for their immaturity.  They were self-centered and ingrateful and pretty fucking talentless, when it came down to it.  They thought they were better than him, better than *NSYNC, and he wanted to teach them exactly how wrong they were.

        But now, now Trevor was taking up Kevin’s time and attention, and that burned hatred and pain right through Justin, because if he couldn’t have Kevin like that, then Trevor wasn’t worthy of being in the same fucking building.  And Jacob, Jacob was killing Chris with every word to Brian, Justin could see it happening, right there before his eyes.  Ashley, that pretty little bitch, and Erik, that over-inflated little asshole, and Dan-

        Kevin leaned back slightly, putting his hands behind himself on the table, uncrossing his ankles and letting his knees fall open slightly.  He was opening himself up, shifting from closed-off posture to something like invitation.

        Justin was going to destroy Trevor.  Destroy all of O-Town.  Fucking murder them.  Starting with Dan fucking Miller.

        He said hi to Lance, and he asked where Joey was, and he said hi to Chris, squeezing Chris’s shoulder.  Then, “Hey, Lieutenant Dan!  You made it!”  He let his eyes flash appreciatively over Dan’s body.  Tall enough, but not quite broad enough, and too lanky; Kevin had more muscle, his shoulders were thick with it.  He told Dan he looked good, and Dan said with a sincere grin and impressed eyes that he looked good, too.

        “Justin.”  Justin looked over at the sound of AJ’s voice.  AJ inclined his head towards the dance floor, backing up.  Justin grinned at Dan like the world was awaiting him.  “Gotta go.”  He went straight to AJ, moving with deliberately sexual grace, taking AJ’s hand and twisting into the crowd.

        Resentful, Justin had been avoiding looking directly at AJ since the first meeting at Lance’s house.  They’d done most of their talking over the phone, and when they did meet, he looked anywhere but into AJ’s eyes.

        He’d never really been impressed by AJ, and he’d actually said he thought AJ was kind of funny-looking.  Joey had said, “That’s because he doesn’t care what you think.  If he wanted you, he’d take you.”  That had sounded like bullshit to Justin, but he’d chalked it up to Joey’s bias and dismissed it.

        They’d just started to dance, were about five beats into it, when AJ shifted against him and he felt AJ do a tight, sinuous, full-body roll that shuddered over every inch of Justin’s flesh.  Startled, he looked right into AJ’s eyes.  AJ looked back, right at him, right into him, and Justin dropped into position, instinctively meeting AJ roll for roll, grind for grind.

        He’d never danced like this.  Not with another guy.  Not like he was fucking his own body’s reflection.  AJ was a little shorter than he was, but somehow that made them match up more completely, made them lock together perfectly.

        AJ touched him, and suddenly that felt a lot more intimate than he’d been ready for, AJ’s hands hot on his body.  Then AJ broke formation, leaving him to take it down to the floor and come back up again, all while maintaining physical contact.  When their eyes met again, it was a challenge, and Justin accepted it, copying AJ’s move and then raising the stakes.

        It was like a dance-off in his own body.  They engaged in unspoken competition, trying to outdo each other but always keeping a point of contact, staying as close as possible, dancing on each other.  Justin twisted and thrust and flexed on AJ’s body, as though AJ were his stage partner, or his prop.  AJ kept raising the bar, his eyes flashing a constant challenge to keep up.  There were no limits, limits were a joke, Justin had bled for Kevin and never even considered having a safety word.  His body was riding high on the challenge and the danger and the beat of the club.  Raw sexuality poured from AJ, wrapping around Justin and pulling him in.  He hadn’t even had a drink yet, and he wasn’t going to need one; he was drunk from this, from the mating of their dance, from the look in AJ’s incredible eyes.

        Howie had turned to kiss his cheek, fingers whispering through his hair.  “Go make sure that Erik-Michael is having a good time.”  Howie’s eyes had been light with humor, and that constant affection that made JC feel like an equal, a partner, a friend.

        He’d left Howie to go entertain Erik.  Erik was on the dance floor, so JC danced near him, almost with him but not close enough to touch.  Erik wasn’t a bad dancer.  JC was better, but that wasn’t a surprise.  And at least if they were dancing, they weren’t talking.

        JC showed off a little, maybe a little too much, because Erik started to try to touch him.  He tolerated it, keeping his smile bright, trying not to pull away.  He wanted other hands, familiar hands-

        Howie’s hand slid in over his hip and down his thigh.  “JC.  Could I see you in my…office?”

        “Yes,” JC said.  Thank god.

        “Erik-Michael,” Howie said, reaching past JC and tugging Erik closer, kissing the corner of his mouth.  “I have to borrow JC.  I’ll bring him right back.”

        “Sorry, honey.”  JC planted a kiss on Erik’s too-full lips.  “Howie needs me.”  He felt so smugly pleased about the disappointment in Erik’s eyes, he gave Erik another kiss, lingering this time.

        Hurting other people’s feelings could be fun.

        Howie led him away from the crowd, down a hallway and around a corner.  Howie’s office was small, but richly furnished, and the leather sofa Howie guided him down onto was soft and lush.

        “I want you to do it tonight,” Howie said.  He was sitting too close; sweat was curling his hair onto his forehead, around his ears.  “In here, before he goes home.”

        “Do what?” JC asked.  Howie was gorgeous, with wide dark eyes and flawless skin.  His smiles were warm, and his lips were so soft JC wanted to relive the memory.

        “Take him in your mouth,” Howie said.

        Time stopped, for the tick of a second.  JC didn’t know how to explain.  “I can’t.”

        “You can’t what?” Howie asked, a cute, puzzled frown wrinkling between his eyes.

        “Nick told me not to…  Nick asked me not to give Erik head.”  The way it sounded, voice aloud, shamed JC, but he tried not to show it.

        “All right,” Howie said gently, his gaze softening.  His kiss was so, so soft…  “We’ll talk about that later.  Tonight, you can just get him off in your hand.  Coming from you,” Howie smiled, “that would be just as good.”

        JC kissed Howie, pressing ever closer, burning inside at the slow stroking of Howie’s tongue.  He’d never been with anyone like Howie.

        “He wants you,” Howie whispered, his thumbs rubbing light circles over JC’s hip bone, his hands sliding back to cup JC’s ass.  “You have power over him.  Make him take his dick out and show it to you.  Make him feel like he has to measure up.”

        “He can’t,” JC breathed, transfixed by Howie’s kiss, “he won’t.”

        “Convince him to lick up his own cum,” Howie said.  “He’ll do anything you tell him if he thinks he’ll get more of you.”

        Howie was telling him - - Howie was telling him how this worked.  The basics of manipulation.  What Howie had done to Lance, what Nick had done to JC, what had been done to all of them.  JC pulled back, looking into Howie’s eyes.

        Howie gazed at him. “You’re a very beautiful man, JC.”  He put a strand of JC’s hair back in place, his touch gentle.  “You’re going to make him feel like a god.”  He tucked back another strand.  “I don’t think that anyone could build up defenses against you.”

        That made it sound like…  Like Howie was included in that.  Like Howie felt something for him.  But what about, Nick had defenses against him.  Right?  Nick wasn’t, wasn’t in love with him.  He’d thrown everything he had into that relationship, into getting Nick back after his world was torn apart, and he was no closer to having Nick now than he’d ever been.

        Everyone else was having a great time.  Jacob hadn’t turned away from Brian for even a second since they’d sat down.  Trevor was engrossed in conversation with Kevin.  Erik was dancing.  Dan danced, and drank a little, and tried to keep him talking.  Ashley realized he was looking pretty pathetic, and that wasn’t like him at all, but he couldn’t help it.  He wanted to know where Joey was.

        If Joey didn’t come, that wouldn’t be standing him up, because this wasn’t a date.  Joey was coming with Nick, for starters.  But it had sounded like Joey had wanted him there, so he’d come, and Joey was nowhere to be seen.  Joey had told him to find a way to get there.  Had Nick found out somehow?  Was Nick keeping Joey away?

        Trevor asked Kevin if he wanted to dance, and Kevin accepted.

        Lance couldn’t stand to see Chris dying right in front of him, so he coaxed Chris out into the crowd, away from Brian.

        Brian was explaining something, and Jacob hitched his chair closer, to hear better over the noise.

        Dan told Ashley to go out and dance.  Ashley said maybe he would, on the next song.  Deciding not to point out that Ashley had given him that answer three times already, Dan went back to watching the crowd.  He’d rather be out there dancing, but he didn’t want to leave Ashley alone.

        Justin and AJ broke free from the mass of writhing bodies, heading in their direction.  “Hey,” Justin said, reaching their table.  “Dan my man, why aren’t you out there?”

        From behind Justin, AJ’s hands settled on Justin’s waist, reaching under Justin’s shirt, beginning to lift it.  Justin took over as though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though his body were an extension of AJ’s or vice versa, and peeled off his shirt, dropping it on a chair.  Left in his sweat-soaked undershirt, he hooked a chair out with his foot and took a seat, leaning back comfortably.  “What are you drinking?”

        “Uh…scotch,” Dan remembered.  Justin was flushed, happy, good-tired, probably ready to jump back out there in a heartbeat.  Dan had been watching, and Justin had spent the entire time dancing exclusively with AJ, not so much as looking at another person.  Did dancing make Justin this happy?  Did clubbing?  Or was it AJ?  AJ, who’d reduced Justin nearly to tears with one phone call?  But the way they’d danced, that fluid, daring, overtly sexual sharing of each other’s bodies, he’d never seen anyone move like that.

        “Look who finally made it.”  AJ lounged back in his chair.  “Hey, Nick.”

        “Hey, AJ,” Nick said.  “Brian.”  Joey was right behind him, and Dan watched Ashley try to catch Joey’s eye.

        “Nick,” Brian said.  “What took you so long?”

        “We got held up in traffic,” Nick said.

        “Traffic?” Brian asked.

        “Traffic,” AJ repeated, raising his eyebrows.

        Nick grinned.  “Where’s everybody?”

        “Howie and Kevin are out there,” AJ said.

        “That’s where we should be, too,” Nick said.  “Order me something until I get back.”  He walked off, with Joey, and Dan watched Ashley stare after Joey in confusion, not having received any kind of acknowledgement.

        “They fuck almost more than we do,” AJ said to Justin.  “I’m going to the ladies’ room.  If you see a waitress, get me the usual.”  He was up and moving away, perfectly in control of his body’s every movement, smoothly fluid, sleekly muscular.

        Justin stretched, his T-shirt riding up to expose his tight, defined abs.  “You’re not dancing?”

        “Not tonight,” Dan said.  “You looked great out there.”

        “Thanks,” Justin said.  “AJ makes it a whole new ballgame.”

        “It’s good to see you looking happy,” Dan said.  He didn’t have a right to comment on Justin’s personal life, and Dan knew that he had to tread lightly; but he was concerned about Justin, and he wanted some reassurance that things were fine, that he’d leapt to conclusions about the nature of Justin’s relationship with AJ.

        “Oh, things have been great,” Justin said.  He smiled, looking truly happy.  “AJ’s been great.”

        “That’s good,” Dan said.  “You guys look really good together.”

        Justin grinned.  “You should see us when we’re alone.”

        AJ slid up to Kevin and Trevor.  “Do you know where your boy Chris is?”

        “No,” Kevin said, “I don’t.”  His voice was casual, but his eyes flashed fire.

        AJ considered his options.  He could forget about it, but Chris and Lance disappearing was unacceptable.  He could tell Howie or Brian about it, but they had Erik and Jacob in perfect position, and he didn’t want to interrupt that.  He could go track them down himself-

        -but he’d rather send Justin to do it.  That would keep Justin in his place, and it would also give AJ a little time with Dan.

        He went back to the table, dropping into his seat.  “Have you seen Chris and Lance?”

        “No,” Justin said.

        AJ stepped on his foot beneath the table.  “I wonder where they ran off to.”

        “They’re probably dancing,” Justin said, but AJ knew he’d gotten the hint, and lifted his foot.  A few minutes later, Justin excused himself.  Satisfied, AJ leaned back in his chair, surveying Dan.

        The last door he tried, opened.

        It was an office, it had to be Howie’s office, and Lance and Chris were on the couch.  Chris was curled up on himself, shaking, and Lance just looked startled.

        “It’s just me,” Justin said softly, coming in and closing the door.  “They’re getting pissed.  How’d you get in here?”

        “I know where Howie hides the spare key,” Lance said.  “He won’t stop shaking.”

        “Chris,” Justin said.  Chris was making horrible shuddering noises like his heart was being wrenched out of his chest right then and there, and it was almost frightening.  Justin couldn’t see his face, but it sure as hell sounded like he was crying; only Chris never cried.

        No, that wasn’t quite true.  Nothing ever, ever made Chris cry, but Brian.

        Justin wondered if he should go get JC or something; he wasn’t very good at this.    “Chris.”  He crouched in front of the sofa.  “Did something happen?”

        “I think I should go,” Lance said.  “I don’t think I’m who he wants to be around right now.”

        Lance was sucking Brian’s dick.  If Justin thought for a second that Chris was sucking Kevin’s dick-  “It’s okay,” he said.  “You can go.  I’ll…think of something.”

        Lance nodded.  “Chris…”

        Chris tightened his self-embrace.

        Lance avoided Justin’s eyes and left.

        Justin sighed.  As much as he loved Lance, and Chris and Joey and JC; and as much as they all understood why they were doing what they were doing; if they were capable of sharing a room by the end of this, it would be a miracle.  He put his hand on Chris’s knee.  “What can I do?”

        Chris shook with misery and pain.

        “I know,” Justin said.  “I know how much this sucks, I know how much you hate Jacob right now and how you can’t even stand to look at Lance.  I know what Brian’s doing to you.  But you can’t do this, Chris, you can’t let it in like this.  You’re not here to get Brian back, you’re here to do whatever it takes to get Trevor.  Everything you’re feeling, you have to focus it on him.  You have to make him feel everything you’re feeling.  The pain and the anger and the frustration and the humiliation and the rage and the helplessness and the fear, all of it.  Put it on him, make him suffer.  You don’t deserve this, we never deserved any of this, and that’s why you can’t take it in.  Give it to someone else.  Give it to that fucking bastard who’s out there dancing, right now, with my lover!  You have to get him for me, Chris, you have to kill him, you can’t let him fucking get away with it!  Kevin’s mine!  Kevin’s mine!”  Fury, impotent rage, clouded Justin’s vision and curled his hands into tight, cruel fists.  “Kevin’s mine, he’ll never understand, he’ll never feel anything like I feel, he’s never worked this hard, I’ve worked so hard, I’ve given so much, I’ve lived and I’ve died and I’ve bled for it-”

        The door opened and Justin froze, mouth open, fists clenched.

        Kevin loomed in the doorway, mouth set into a thin, displeased line.

        Justin swallowed, instinctively leaning back, away.

        Chris choked, shuddering.

        Kevin’s gaze drilled into Justin, his glare hardening.  He took in one slow, steadying inhalation, a warning breath before-

        Justin scrambled to his feet, stumbling to the door, losing all of his grace under Kevin’s stripping gaze.  Kevin stepped aside, to avoid him, and Justin rushed out of the door, careful not to brush against Kevin.

        The door closed.

        Justin could breathe again.  Breathe, and realize what he’d done.  He’d left Kevin.  He’d done it because Kevin had wanted him to, because Kevin hadn’t wanted so much as to look at him, much less listen to the sound of his voice.  But still, he’d left Kevin.  Now he was without Kevin.

        Chris was in there.  He’d left them alone together.  Kevin was going to tear Chris apart, mercilessly and cruelly.

        Justin clung to the doorframe, pressing his ear to the door, listening desperately for the sound he loved most in all of the world: Kevin’s voice.

        Kevin stood over Chris, watching Chris shake.  “I can’t believe you’re going to let that unwashed, ungroomed, talentless, self-appointed savior of music do this to you.”

        Chris tucked further into himself.

        “He’s out there gazing into Brian’s eyes, and you’re going to sit here and do nothing?  You’re not even going to fight?  You’re not going to challenge him, to show him what you’re really made of?”

        Chris was still trembling, but he was quiet.  He was listening, more out of surprise than anything.

        Kevin sat on the sofa, reaching over and gripping Chris’s chin in one hand, forcing Chris to face him.  Once he had Chris there he let go, but locked Chris in place with his gaze.  “I don’t like you.  I never have, and I never will.  I don’t respect you or admire you or take you seriously.  But at least you’re an opponent.  Those self-absorbed kids out there who call themselves a real group, those animals performing tricks, they’re nothing.  You’re smarter, and you’re more talented, and you don’t take yourself so seriously your ego is crippling your career.”

        Chris hugged his knees to his chest, shivering once.

        “You’re better than they are,” Kevin said.  “You’re ten times better than Trevor.  You’re a hundred times better than Jacob.  Are you seriously going to let Jacob take Brian away from you?  This is your chance to prove your worth.  This is your chance to take them down.  Don’t let them get the upper hand.  You’re better than that.”

        Chris blinked, absorbing.  Kevin’s gaze was serious, but not angry; firm, but not cruel.

        “I’ve known Brian all of his life,” Kevin said.  “I know him better than anyone, other than you.  I know how he feels about you.”

        “He’s killing me,” Chris said.  The shudders of pain still running through his body broke his voice.

        Kevin’s voice was steel.  “You’ll have to kill them first.”

        Chris cleared his throat and, looking down, told his lap, “I don’t know if I can do it.  I don’t think I have it in me.”

        “That’s an excuse,” Kevin said.  “You’re only as weak as you tell yourself you are.”

        “I like Trevor,” Chris confessed.  “He’s not like they are.  I-”

        “That’s an excuse,” Kevin said firmly.  “If you want to do it, you’ll make it happen.  When you’re tired, do you skip a show?  When you’re hurt, do you skip rehearsal?  You’ve gotten this far in your life by not giving in, by never giving up.  If you wanted to make this happen, you’d take care of it.”

        Chris rubbed his eyes, then rested his temple on his fist, elbow on the sofa back.

        “It’s up to you,” Kevin said.  “It depends on how you really feel about Brian.  If you care as much as I thought you did.  If you’re really going to let Jacob take him away from you.”

        “I don’t have him,” Chris said.

        “If you don’t act now, you never will.”

        Chris closed his eyes and took a careful breath.  “I don’t have a choice.”

        “Not if you love him,” Kevin said.  “Do you love him?”

        Chris’s eyes opened.  “More than Justin loves you.”

        Kevin smiled.  “Then you’ll do it.”

        Chris was resolved.  “Yes.”

        Kevin grew suspicious.  “We won’t have this conversation again?”

        Chris shook his head.  “No.  I have to kill them before he kills me.  Even if I can never have him again, I can’t let Jacob anywhere near him.”

        “Good.”  Kevin touched his cheek.  “We’d better get you fixed up.  Never let them see real tears.”  Kevin got up, opening a mini-fridge in the corner, taking out a bottle of water.  “Take off that shirt.”  Chris took off his button-down, and Kevin dampened a corner of it, wiping Chris’s face, cooling Chris’s skin.  “I have to be able to count on you,” Kevin said.  “You’ll always know where I stand.  I need to know where you stand.”

        “Anything for Brian,” Chris said.  “Anything.  Even if it hurts.  Kill them before he kills me.”

        “Good.  Are you ready to go back?”

        “Yes.”  Chris straightened his T-shirt.  “Anything for Brian.  Let me at ‘em.”

        They stood.  Kevin opened the door in time to see Justin disappearing around the corner.

        “Yeah,” AJ said, getting up.  “Be right back,” he told Justin, and left with Nick.

        Nick’s touch gone, JC shivered.

        Joey took a pull from Lance’s beer and looked into Ashley’s eyes for the first time all night.  “Want to dance?”

        “Yeah,” Ashley said.

        Justin watched them go, then grinned at Dan.  “You want to dance?”

        “Are you…”

        “Relax,” Justin said.  “I won’t think you’re gay.”

        Erik coughed.

        “Okay,” Dan said, getting up.

        “Good luck keeping up,” Trevor said.

        “Thanks,” Dan said.  Justin grinned and led the way.

        Joey had dragged Ashley to the darkest corner he could find, wasting no time in backing Ashley against the wall and humping Ashley’s thigh, hands on Ashley’s ass, mouth on Ashley’s neck.  Ashley was panting in his ear, moaning, arms wrapped around him, hips restless and seeking.  “We can’t do this,” Ashley said.  “Nick’s not going to like it, he’s here-”

        “We have time,” Joey said.

        “They’re going to see us,” Ashley panted.

        “We’re just friends, I dance with my friends,” Joey said, and kissed his mouth to shut him up.  Ashley moaned, hands rubbing up Joey’s chest, sliding down Joey’s back, pulling on Joey’s hips.  “Go to the bathroom,” Joey said.

        “What?” Ashley asked, trying to kiss him again.

        “The VIP bathroom,” Joey said.  “Meet me there in two minutes.  I’m going to find us some fucking privacy.”

        “In the bathroom?”

        Ashley couldn’t take direction for shit sometimes.  “Two minutes,” Joey said, and pushed him in that direction, slipping into the crowd.  He went back to the table and found Lance.  Then he went into the men’s room.  Ashley was there, and Joey stepped right in, pushing Ashley back against the sinks, kissing him hard, practically crawling onto the sink to get on top of him.  “I’ve wanted you all fucking night,” he said, pulling at Ashley’s clothes.  “He won’t let me go anywhere near you.  Suck my dick, oh, mmm, Ashley, suck it…”  Joey lost himself in Ashley’s kiss, groping Ashley’s ass, grinding against Ashley’s dick.  Ashley was easy, and eager to please, and Joey loved that about him.  “Suck my dick, Ashley, suck it, I want your pretty mouth all over it, you make me come so hard…”

        Ashley was making a confused, aching noise, pulling on Joey’s shoulders, his hips, his arms, like he just wanted to get closer, be closer, be one.

        Joey stopped kissing him, breathing hard against his mouth, grinding against him a little to make him moan out loud.  “Tell me you’ll do it for me, Ashley, tell me I can come in your mouth.  You know how hard you make me, I know you can feel it.  I want you.”

        “What if somebody comes in?”

        Ashley was too fucking young to be playing these grown-up games.  “Nobody’s coming in,” Joey promised him, kissing him.  “Please, pretty.  Please.”

        Ashley’s eyes were uncertain.  “Okay.”

        Whore.  Joey kissed him gently, turning them, resting his ass against the sink, and let go.

        Ashley lowered himself to his knees.

        Joey shifted his feet apart, hands back on the sink, and waited.

        Ashley swallowed, bringing his hands up.  His fingers shook as he opened Joey’s pants, pulling them down with his underwear.  Joey’s erection sprang free, and Ashley’s hands shook harder.

        Then he licked his lips.

        Joey grinned, surprised.  He was almost fucking proud.  Ashley wasn’t scared.  He was nervous, yeah, but he was also excited.  He wanted this, he wanted to suck dick, he wanted Joey’s cock in his mouth.  After his initiation yesterday, he’d probably been thinking about it ever since, wanting another try, wanting more of it.  Ashley wasn’t just a whore, he was a cocksucking whore.

        Ashley grasped Joey’s erection in one hand, moving into position, bringing it to his mouth.  He spent a few minutes just fisting the shaft, sucking on the head, drool