Sucker
Copyright November 24, 2002-December 2, 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 fifty-nine
Joey had talked to Lance and JC, and left a message for Justin. He called Chris last.
“You’ve reached the head offices of the Trevor Penick fan club. Press one for English and two for fannish squealing,” Chris said.
“I just got back from dinner,” Joey said.
“Excuse me,” Chris said to Trevor. Joey waited. “Tell me everything,” Chris said.
“We talked about-”
“What was Brian wearing?” Chris asked.
“I don’t know, jeans and a T-shirt,” Joey said. “We-”
“You don’t know?” Chris demanded. “You don’t know?!”
Joey winced.
“How could you not know?! It was Brian! He was sitting at the same table with you for hours! Jeans and a T-shirt? Is that as much detail as you have? If you asked me what AJ had on and I didn’t give you the-”
“I can hear him from
here,” Nick said. “Give me the phone.”
Grateful to get away from Chris’s outraged shrieking, Joey handed
over the phone.
“Chris,” Nick said.
Sudden silence.
“How’s Trevor?” Nick asked.
Joey shifted positions, watching.
“Good,” Nick said. “Sounds like you’re having fun. Let me tell you what happened with Jacob tonight, and then we can talk about Brian, okay?”
Joey was impressed that Nick could get Chris to cooperate.
“Great,” Nick said, and proceeded to explain to Chris what they’d already told everyone else. Halfway through, Nick relaxed against Joey.
Joey draped his arm around Nick, rubbing his thumb over the edge of Nick’s eyebrow.
Nick turned his head; they kissed.
“What do you want to know about Brian?” Nick asked. “One question at a time,” he added quickly.
Joey ran his hand under Nick’s shirt, stroking Nick’s stomach.
“He had on jeans, dark blue Wrangler’s,” Nick said. “White socks, and sneakers, that white pair of Reeboks with the blue detail. He had on his light faded blue T-shirt, and a white T-shirt under it. He had on his everyday watch and I think he was wearing that gold cross you gave him, the simple one, but I only saw the chain. I don’t know what kind of underwear he had on.”
Joey couldn’t have described Nick’s attire that accurately, and he’d been with Nick all day. He stroked higher.
“Yeah, kind of soft and wavy on his forehead, with those little curls in the back,” Nick said.
Joey loved how warm and smooth and soft Nick’s skin was. Nick was oddly luxurious.
“A little bit of a darker blue tonight,” Nick said.
Joey relaxed backward, and Nick moved with him, lying against his chest and between his thighs. Joey’s touch explored upward until he found a small nipple.
“It was a round table. Brian, Jacob, Joey, me, Brian again.”
Nick arched slightly. While Nick told Chris what Brian had ordered and eaten, Joey teased Nick’s nipples. While Nick described Brian’s laughter and smiles, Joey caressed Nick’s throat. Nick kept talking, and Joey kissed his ear, nibbling gently.
“I have to go,” Nick said. “You’d better get back to Trevor.” Nick shifted until he and Joey were face-to-face. “Yeah, I’ll tell him. Bye.” Nick dropped Joey’s phone to the floor. “Remind me to tell Brian that Chris loves him.”
“He already knows,” Joey said, kissing Nick’s mouth, running his hand down to Nick’s ass.
“God, I’ve wanted this,” Nick said, his voice rough with lust as he sucked at Joey’s kiss and squeezed Joey’s package. “I’ve been thinking about blowing you all night.”
Groaning, Joey rocked up into Nick’s hand. “Then do it already.”
“I love your dick,” Nick panted, kissing him lewdly, ripping his jeans open. “You have such a great dick.”
“You have a great mouth,” Joey panted, moaning as Nick’s hand gripped him. Nick was so, god, god, yes, good at, oh, fuck… Joey groaned, throbbing against Nick’s tongue.
Justin had been too upset about Dan to sleep well the night before, and he’d overused his body with Kevin. Still, he didn’t want this day to end. He stayed awake as long as he could, remembering Kevin, hoping for next time. Finally, AJ caught him falling asleep.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” AJ said, gesturing for the stairs.
“How domestic,” Justin muttered, but he got up. “Do we have to use the same bed?”
“Yes,” AJ said. “Don’t pretend that it bothers you.” They walked upstairs together, and moved around each other in the bathroom. Justin crawled into bed, and a moment later, AJ joined him.
The room was dark and quiet.
AJ rolled over, getting more comfortable. He turned onto his side, facing Justin.
“I love you,” Justin whispered.
“Stop talking to people who aren’t in the room,” AJ said.
“He wanted me,” Justin said. “He really wanted me.”
“Hell, I want you,” AJ said. “You’re not a bad lay.”
Justin ran his fingers over AJ’s forearm for no real reason. “Kevin’s a much better lover than you are.”
“Joey’s a much better lover than you are,” AJ said. “That boy can rut like a-”
“I don’t want to hear that!” Justin protested, smacking AJ’s shoulder. “Don’t tell me that.”
“Sorry,” AJ said. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your obsessed drivel. Go ahead, tell me more about Kevin.”
Justin muttered something rude, but he couldn’t resist even a teasing request to discuss his heart’s favorite subject. His touched circled AJ’s elbow. “Kevin’s so dominant. He’s so powerful.”
“Justin found himself a real man,” AJ said in an impressed whisper.
“He’s so confident,” Justin said, disregarding that last comment. “I’ve never met anyone so forceful. He doesn’t even have to speak. One look…”
“What color are his eyes, again?” AJ asked.
“They’re so green,” Justin said. “He was fucking me, rocking me, I felt like I couldn’t breathe but I was making all of this noise, and I looked up into his eyes, and they were like burning emeralds.” Justin’s voice was soft, distant, his hand falling still on AJ’s arm. “Burning right into me.”
Joey had gone to dinner with Nick. Jacob, of all people, had gone to dinner with Nick.
JC had eaten dinner alone.
Joey was going to sleep with Nick tonight.
JC was in bed alone.
Who was he supposed to call for comfort? Lance? These days, under these circumstances, Lance only had limited sympathy for him. Chris? Justin? They were too burdened by their own problems; he didn’t want to task them with his own. Howie? Howie was probably in bed with Erik.
JC had proven that he could fuck without getting involved. He wanted to feel confident about that. He didn’t. He felt like he’d lost something.
Unlocking the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet, JC withdrew a thin folder. Sitting there on the floor, he spread pictures before himself. Glossy photographs of the front of the house. The sides, the back. The backyard, the pool. The interior. A few aerial views.
His house. Their house. His and Nick’s. The place that he and Nick, together, would have called home.
These photographs were all he had left.
He’d hired an agent. She’d found houses for him. He and Nick had considered dozens of homes. But this one, he and Nick had both liked it best. The huge, open kitchen. The winding staircases. The relative seclusion of its location. There had been grandeur in that house, and elegance, but also simple, sprawling warmth. It had been a perfect blend of him and Nick. Regal grace and comfortable welcome.
They’d made love there, before moving in. To test it out, Nick had said with a glittering smile, pulling him closer.
It wasn’t the money that bothered JC. He would have given up another eleven million dollars and much more, to get Nick back. Or to understand.
But not to stop the pain. He wouldn’t part with the pain, because the pain was what remained. The pain was his reminder of how much he’d lost. What he’d lost reminded him of how much he’d loved. What he’d once had.
The passion. The joy. The obsession. The ecstasy. So much more than love.
There was no one in the world like Nick.
Sometimes, JC wasn’t even sure that Nick was real.
But the pictures were real.
The house had been real.
The love was real.
The pain was real.
Joey couldn’t remember how to breathe.
He hadn’t been fucked that hard since…
Groaning, he couldn’t muster the strength to roll over.
Orgasm had crashed into him like…
He remembered Nick jerking him closer and then…
“That was hot.” Nick was back on the bed, crawling over him and kissing his cheek on the way across his body to the other side. “We should fuck more.”
Yes. Yes, they definitely should.
The sun rose.
In his room, the phone at his side, Dan flipped a page, reading the
poem one more time to cement the words in his memory.
AJ heard music.
Loud music.
Loud classical music.
He pulled a pillow over his head to block out the sound.
But now his brain was awake. He was alone in the bed, and music was playing. Therefore, Justin was awake, up, unsupervised. That didn’t necessarily mean that Justin was doing anything stupid, but, “Hell.” Irritated, AJ got up.
Having Dan around had made AJ’s job easier. Now he had to be Justin’s full-time nanny, on top of everything else.
Pulling on underwear, he went downstairs. Following the sound of the music, he located Justin in the kitchen.
Justin had on one of
Kevin’s shirts and nothing else. He was wide awake, bright-eyed and quick to
smile, and he greeted AJ with a bowl of cereal. “Good morning.”
“Thanks,” AJ said, taking the bowl from him. “Why are you up?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” Justin said. “I was thinking about the way Kevin kissed me.”
Of course. “Why are you listening to this?” AJ asked.
Justin smiled. “I
was waltzing.”
“By yourself?” AJ asked.
“Kevin wasn’t here to do it with me.”
Lance groaned, trying not to pull on Brian’s silken hair as Brian’s tongue played over the head of his dick.
Erik wakened, warm from the heat of Howie’s body pressed to his back. As sleep drifted from his mind, he remembered the night before. Sex. Dinner. Chocolate. Howie.
It had been like living out a fantasy, only he’d been living out life. Not his own life, but JC’s. He’d sat in JC’s chair, eaten JC’s food, gone to bed with JC’s lover.
It wasn’t his life; it wasn’t somewhere he could stay. But he wouldn’t mind revisiting it. Getting a taste of that kind of life. Maybe because he’d known that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t for him, it had seemed almost fantastical. Like magic, or a dream. He’d never been treated like that before, he’d never experienced anything like that.
Opening his eyes, Erik looked over to where the tray had been, wanting another look, another taste.
It was gone.
No tray. No chocolate. No strawberries. No flutes.
Frowning, Erik sat up, looking quickly around the room. No tray? No champagne? No candles? No rose petals? There had been rose petals everywhere! Red and pink and white, scattered all over! All across the floor, all across the table, all - - but there were none.
It had happened, he knew that it had. It hadn’t been last night’s dream; it had been real. There had been chocolate, there had been strawberries, they’d drank champagne and - - aha! The sheets, the sheets were still black satin.
It hadn’t all been a dream.
He smelled like chocolate.
It had been real. He’d been JC, and Howie had been Howie, and they’d lived out a JC and Howie kind of night.
But now it was morning. It was morning, and he was Erik again. No more strawberries. No more chocolate, no more champagne. No more candles. No more rose petals. Just used sheets, and a guy in need of a bath.
The time he spent with Howie and JC always had a bit of a fantasy quality to it. An unreal tint. They were so far removed from the life he’d always lived - - they were too good-looking, too sexy, with too much money. They weren’t like anyone else that he knew.
But last night had pushed the fantasy too far. Last night had included him too deeply.
This morning, he felt the loss of that fantasy a little too keenly.
Usually, he left in the morning with the thought of, whew, damn, wasn’t that something? Today, it was more of a sense of, I want that.
He wanted it for himself. He wanted to be a part of it, as an insider, not as a privileged observer.
At his side was Howie. Asleep, stubbled, tangled in black satin. Beautiful.
Erik wasn’t used to considering another man’s beauty. But now… JC and Howie had changed that, for him. Some men were beautiful. Some men were attractive. JC and Howie attracted his attention with everything that they did.
For example, at the moment, Howie was simply sleeping. He wasn’t flirting, talking, or even moving. But Erik still felt kind of entranced, and wouldn’t have minded watching him sleep for another few hours.
Although the urge to touch was growing stronger.
JC could touch. This was JC’s lover, JC’s world. Erik wasn’t Howie’s lover; Erik was a friend, keeping JC’s spot warm. But someday JC would be back.
What would happen then?
He’d had a role here before. When JC came back, he’d still have that role. Wouldn’t he? They wouldn’t suddenly kick him out and push him away. They weren’t like that.
He’d always had respect for their relationship. He still did. He didn’t want to take JC’s place. He just wanted a better place of his own.
But he couldn’t have that here.
A slow, easy stretch, and Howie’s eyes opened. “Erik-Michael.” A pleased, warm, promising smile. “Good morning.”
“Good morning.” He knew what that smile meant; he gave Howie a kiss. Howie kissed back with a very quiet, interested sound.
“What were you up thinking about?” Howie asked, stroking his chin.
“I think I need a shower.”
Howie smiled, kissing him again. “You smell like chocolate.”
“So do you,” Erik said, kissing him back.
“Mmm.” A sweet little kiss. “I smell like you.” Howie stroked his cheek, smiling into his eyes. “Let’s go take a shower.”
Lance kissed Brian slowly, gently. He’d tried to please Brian, for Chris’s sake. Judging from the reverberation of those ecstatic cries, it had worked. It might even have worked too well, because now Brian looked… The only word for it was “starry-eyed.”
He’d only been trying to do what Chris wanted; he hadn’t expected Brian to fall for it that thoroughly. He’d intended to lead Brian on a little, but this was too far.
Wasn’t it?
Maybe not. Breaking the kiss and skimming his fingers along the hard line of Brian’s jaw with just the right amount of gentle pressure to make Brian shiver, Lance scrutinized Brian without changing his expression.
It was possible that Brian might actually care about him. If Brian were in love with him, then it was wrong of Lance to make love to Brian like there was more between them.
However, no matter how well Brian acted the part and how much Lance wanted to believe, there were still too many doubts. He wasn’t convinced. It was more than possible; it was very likely that Brian didn’t like him at all, but was acting like there was grand love at work for other reasons.
If Brian did that to Lance, why couldn’t Lance do something similar to Brian?
While Lance was making love to Brian with his body but not his heart, Brian was most likely doing the same. They were both parodying love.
Lance couldn’t feel guilty for doing to Brian what Brian was doing to him. He’d never get Brian to admit the truth, so why not play along? They could act like the perfect couple all day and all night and still not even like each other. As long as Lance didn’t fall for Brian’s act, there was no harm done.
It was an act. It had to be an act. There was no way that Brian really was in love with him.
If Brian really loved him, anyway, what was he supposed to do about it? Brian had damaged Chris. Brian deserved to be hurt for that.
When Howie had pretended to be in love, and hadn’t meant a word of it, no one had stepped in to protect Lance’s feelings. Certainly Brian hadn’t, even if he’d secretly been in love with Lance the whole time. Why should Lance spare Brian’s heart now?
“Lance,” Brian whispered. The generous vulnerability of his kiss, the fantasy threaded through his voice, the love in his gaze, combined to create the perfect sense of devotion. Lance felt caught, confused; staring at Brian, he wondered what to believe. Slowly, Brian’s lashes lowered as Brian leaned in for another kiss. “You make me feel like I’m floating.”
Joey had been sound asleep, until he felt irritating and arousing fingers circling his nipples. He pushed away the hand, only it wasn’t a woman’s and it wasn’t AJ’s. Remembering, he opened his eyes.
Nick kissed his nose. “Good morning, sweetness. Get up.”
Joey grunted, adjusting the sheets. “For what?”
Nick grinned. “I made breakfast.”
Groaning, Joey wondered why he was cursed with Nick’s presence. “You can’t cook.”
Nick’s grin didn’t waver. “Love me, love-”
“Love your crappy food,” Joey finished. “I know.” He sighed, deciding that he might as well get up. “What’d you burn this time?”
“Chris,” Trevor whispered. “Chris.” He shook Chris’s shoulder, kissing Chris’s cheek.
Brown eyes cracked open. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I have to get home.” Trevor kissed him. “Go back to sleep. I’ll see you later.”
“Mmm.” Chris tugged Trevor in for another
kiss. “I’ll come over later.”
“Okay.” Trevor ran his hand under the sheets, exploring, and Chris
squirmed. “Nice,” Trevor said with a smile, and kissed Chris’s cheek. “Bye.”
That had been some shower. Dry and wrapped in a voluminous, dark burgundy bathrobe, Erik left the bedroom. Howie had already gone on to the kitchen to start breakfast, giving him a few extra minutes to shave and, hell, recover. He really had to shower with Howie more often. Wow.
Sex in the shower made Erik feel very clean and very dirty at the same time. Which was a pretty damned good way to start the morning.
Now that he was definitely more wide awake, Erik wondered what had happened after he’d fallen asleep. He’d thought that Howie had been asleep with him. But Howie must have been awake, because the bedroom had been cleaned up.
All of those rose petals. Did Howie have the quietest vacuum cleaner ever? Erik couldn’t imagine him picking them up one by one.
All of those candles, everything, it had all magically disappeared, and-
Whoa.
Speaking of magic tricks… The dining room table was back. The whole dining room was back to normal. No fancy dinner, no candelabras. Just a regular old dining room.
Damn.
Howie worked miracles.
Entering the kitchen, Erik watched Howie for a minute. Howie’s robe wasn’t even tied shut; as he moved between the refrigerator and the stove, it fell open to reveal smooth skin, firm muscle, black boxer-briefs. Erik flashed back to the shower, remembered stroking Howie’s gorgeous body, licking his nipples, making him hard. Damn.
There had been a lot of licking last night, too. Erik hadn’t done nearly enough licking of his own, though. He wouldn’t have minded licking a few things off of Howie’s naked body. Those pecs. That ass. Those thighs…
“Hungry?” Howie asked, handing him a mug. He kind of liked that Howie kept giving him Puerto Rican coffee. It was good, and it reminded him that they did have things in common, when he felt totally out of place in this world.
“Yeah.” He sipped, watching Howie cook. “Where’d you hide the dining room table last night?”
Howie winked at him. “I can’t give away all of my secrets.”
In retrospect, he should have expected that answer. He took a seat, drinking, enjoying the view.
“About last night.” Howie adjusted the burners and came over to the table, leaning against it, facing him. Howie reached across the table, slowly rubbing a gentle thumb over his mouth, and he watched something soft enter Howie’s gaze. “Thank you.”
Howie was thanking him? “Thank you,” Erik said. “Last night was…” He didn’t know what to call it that would encompass the experience but not sound strange.
“Last night meant so much to me, Erik-Michael.” Howie’s fingers trailed over his cheek. “It was so special. I really needed to connect with JC again, and you gave that to me.”
“I was just trying to keep up.”
Howie smiled briefly. “You did much more than that.” A tender caress down the side of his neck made him shiver. “Dinner was magical for me. And after dinner…”
Erik licked his lips. Dinner had been pretty intense. After dinner had given “intense” a whole new meaning.
“You did something beautiful for me last night,” Howie said. “I hope that someday I can do the same for you.”
“I didn’t do it to get anything back,” Erik said softly.
“I know you didn’t.” Howie kissed him. “Thank you, Erik-Michael.”
Damn, Howie was…perfect. “You’re welcome.”
Joey swallowed, stifling a grimace. At least Nick managed to ruin food the same way every time. Maybe with this kind of consistency to the preparation, someday Joey would develop a taste for burnt toast and half-burned, half-runny eggs.
“So.” Conversation might distract him from what he was eating. “What are we doing today?”
“We?” Nick smiled across the table at him. “I love it when you talk like a couple.”
“Terrific.” At least Nick hadn’t screwed up the orange juice. “What’s the answer?”
“You’re taking Angel to visit AJ and Justin at Justin’s house.”
Joey stared. Nick was fucking with him. “What?”
“You have to kiss it and make it better so he won’t be pissed about last night,” Nick said. “So you have to see him today. If too much time passes without you there to tell him what to think, he might start to come up ideas on his own, and that won’t be good.”
Of course Joey wanted to see AJ, but with Justin there? And while he was dealing with Ashley? Joey couldn’t even picture Ashley and AJ in the same room.
“We want him and his friends to see AJ and Justin together so they can report back to Dan about how happy Justin is. So take him to Justin’s house. Hang out for a while. Pretend you’re there to pick up something or talk to Timberlake about something.”
“You want me to take Ashley over to Justin’s house while AJ’s there?” Joey eagerly latched onto a flaw in the plan. “After AJ terrorized Ashley, I can’t take him over there. I can’t be that big of a jackass to him on top of what happened last night.”
“AJ won’t do anything in front of you,” Nick said. “If he does, tell him off.”
Joey laughed. Tell AJ off? “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?”
Nick grinned. “My bad. Just tell Angel that AJ won’t do anything. AJ was only pissed off because he didn’t have his precious Justin, and now that they’re back together, AJ’s a cuddly fluffy little bunny in comparison. Besides, you’ll be there to step in and protect the poor little damsel in distress if AJ acts up. Okay?”
Joey had to admit that it sounded like a workable plan. And he wouldn’t mind seeing Ashley again. Make that, he wouldn’t mind fucking Ashley again. “I should smooth things over. He was upset last night.”
“Poor little baby,” Nick said. “Left at home all alone while the grown-ups went to dinner.”
“We’re the ones he should feel sorry for,” Joey said. “We were stuck with Jacob all night.”
Brian had asked Chris to bring some wine and come right inside. Wine in hand, he opened the door to the kitchen tentatively, stepping into the house.
Something simmered on the stove. He smelled chicken. Biscuits. He’d just had breakfast. He wondered why-
“Where have you been?” Brian asked, bustling into the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel. He had on a plain white T-shirt and worn-out jeans, no jewelry. “You should have been home from the office hours ago.”
Office. Office. Chris came forward, pressing a painfully perfunctory kiss to Brian’s cheek. “You know Old Man Johnson’s been riding my ass about those goddamned expense reports. I had to stay late.”
“You’re always staying late,” Brian muttered, moving away from him, over to the stove.
“I always have a lot of work to do,” Chris said, pushing irritation into his voice, as if he were fed up with the old argument, watching Brian’s back as he fussed over the food.
“Work, work, work. I’m so tired of hearing about work! You act like that stupid job is more important than I am,” Brian said, frustrated and hurt.
Chris’s tone grew sharp. “My stupid job is the only thing that brings money into this house. My stupid job is what puts food on our table.”
Brian whirled around, angrily jabbing a spatula in Chris’s direction. “If you were any better at your stupid job, maybe you could do more than put food on the table. Maybe you could get us out of this cheap apartment!”
Raising his voice, Chris shot back, “Maybe I could afford a new place if you didn’t waste all of my money!”
Brian stared at him, shocked. “Me? Me?! I’m not the one who spent our grocery money on new clothes!”
“I bought those clothes for you!” Chris exclaimed. “Where the fuck do you get off yelling at me about the shit I do just trying to be nice to you? I only bought all of that shit for you because I thought it might get you to put out once in a while!”
Smack! “Don’t you ever talk to me like that!” Brian’s breath caught, shocked anger turning to tears. “Don’t you ever,” he repeated insistently, his voice weakening; he turned around, showing Chris his back, leaning forward over the stove.
Chris put his hand to the cheek that Brian had slapped; it stung, but it was nothing compared to the agony he suffered inside.
“And now dinner’s ruined anyway.” Brian sniffled, pulling himself together, poking his spatula into the pots on the stove to investigate their contents. “You should have called home to tell me that you were going to be late. I always tell you that, and you never do it. You’re just too busy to think about me. That job is all you care about.”
Chris sighed on cue, setting the wine bottle on the counter and moving in to stand behind Brian, rubbing his shoulders and gently squeezing his upper arms. “Baby, you know that’s not true. All I ever do is think about you. I work late to bring home money for us. I want to come home to you, but I have to stay late if I want that promotion. But it’s all for you, it’s all for us. We’ve talked about this, I told you, I have to do this for us. Us,” he repeated, tugging Brian around to face him.
Petulant, mulish, Brian sulked, crossing his arms over his chest, refusing to meet Chris’s eyes.
“I do everything for you,” Chris said. “You and me. I want to tell Johnson to shove those expense reports up his ass and set them on fire, but I stick it out, every day, just for you.” He stroked Brian’s chin until Brian finally looked at him. “You know that, you know it’s all for you.”
Brian relented a little, uncrossing his arms and resting his hands on Chris’s chest.
“One day I’m going to buy us a house,” Chris said. “A nice house, two stories, with a lawn, and a garage. One day I’ll get that promotion Johnson’s been dangling in front of me like a goddamned carrot, and we’ll finally get out of this shithole apartment.” He rubbed his thumb over Brian’s cheekbone. “You want that, don’t you, baby?”
Brian pouted, plucking at the front of Chris’s shirt. “I made you dinner hours ago, and now it’s all dried up and ruined.”
“That’s okay,” Chris said. “That’s okay, baby, I know you went to a lot of trouble for me, just like I go to a lot of trouble for you. But look, I brought you a bottle of wine, the good stuff. Come sit down with me.”
Brian’s eyes widened. “Chris, you know we can’t afford that!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Chris said grandly. “After the way things have gone this last week, I’m a shoo-in for that promotion. Then we can afford to have wine every night if you want it.” Wrapping an arm around Brian’s waist, he picked up the bottle. “Come on, come sit with me.” Brian reached into the cabinet for two glasses and together they walked out of the kitchen and into the living room, sitting comfortably on the couch.
Chris poured.
Brian sipped,
snuggling up to him cozily. “It’s not just this last week. It’s all of the
time.”
“What is, baby?” Chris asked, an arm tucked around his waist.
“You’re always at that darned office and you’re never here with me. I cook and I clean and it seems like all I do every day is wait for you to come home.”
“I know,” Chris said sympathetically. “I know it’s not fair to you.”
“It would be easier if you’d let me get a job, too,” Brian said. “Then I could help you, Chris, I could bring in some money and we’d have our house sooner.” Brian gazed at him with wide, earnest eyes. “I know I could get a job somewhere. I don’t have a lot of skills, but I could learn.”
“No, baby. Not my princess.” Chris squeezed Brian more tightly to him, kissing Brian’s forehead, Brian’s nose. “I won’t have you slaving away all day working in some other man’s office. I promised that I’d take care of you, and I have, haven’t I?”
“You take good care of me,” Brian said, resting his head on Chris’s shoulder, patting his chest. “You take such good care of me.”
“And I always will,” Chris said. “We’ll have our house, baby. Just give it some more time. Just a little bit more time, and I’ll give you everything you ever wanted.”
“I know, Chris.” Brian’s voice trusted him. “I know you’ll make it happen for us.”
Chris rubbed Brian’s side. “Tell me what you did today.”
“I made an appointment to get the car tuned up next week,” Brian said, gently stroking his chest. Chris’s hand strayed down to Brian’s thigh. “That way I can get it done while you’re away on your business trip.” Chris squeezed a little. “Mrs. Hoover, from next door, she brought over a pie. Blueberry pie, fresh from scratch. It’s in the fridge, I was going to serve it after dinner.” Chris slid his hand back to Brian’s ass, rubbing the seam that ran up the middle. “I don’t know why she did it, maybe because of those lemon squares I took over yesterday.”
“Mm-hmm,” Chris said, shifting positions so he could kiss Brian’s cheek.
“I made a doctor’s appointment for next week. Just a regular check-up, mostly, although these headaches of mine, I don’t know, I think I’ll ask him about - - Chris, are you listening to me?”
“Mm-hmm,” Chris said, kissing his ear. “You’ve been busy.”
“The super finally came in to fix the disposal today.” Squeezing Brian’s ass with one hand, Chris tipped Brian’s head back with his other hand, kissing down Brian’s neck. “It works all right now, but I hope - - Chris, are you-”
“That’s great, baby,” Chris said, and kissed his mouth.
With a token sound of protest, Brian submitted, arms circling Chris’s neck. He returned Chris’s kisses and made soft, aroused sounds when Chris felt him up, but when Chris’s hands began to work under his clothes, he breathlessly said, “No, Chris, no, not out here.”
“Okay, baby,” Chris said. “That’s okay.” He took Brian to the bedroom. He remembered not to turn on even the lamp, because Brian was too shy to make love with the lights on. He undressed Brian gently, and when he took off his own clothes and climbed on top, Brian shivered and whispered, “I’m sorry I fussed at you. I know how hard you work for us.”
“It’s okay,” Chris said, pushing Brian’s knees apart. “Don’t worry about that now.”
He made Brian come with his hand and mouth first, and then made love to Brian slowly, rocking back and forth gently, making it last. Brian came again, reaching climax with soft whimpers, and then subsided, lying there passively, waiting for Chris to finish. Gradually, he fell asleep, despite Chris’s continued thrusts. Chris couldn’t stop; he needed to be connected to Brian for as long as possible.
But making love to Brian’s unresponsive body made him feel hollow inside. Eventually, he came, ejaculation issuing with a mere ghost of an orgasm. He stayed very still inside Brian for a long time. When he finally pulled out and crawled off of Brian to reach for the covers, Brian wakened, rolling over with a whisper of his name.
“It’s okay,” Chris said, settling down beside him. “Go back to sleep.”
“Maybe you’ll get that promotion this Friday,” Brian said. “Maybe at the department meeting on Friday morning.”
“It’ll be soon,” Chris promised. “I’ll get it soon, and we’ll have a new house, just for us. I’ll take care of you, baby. You’ll see.”
“I know you will.” Brian snuggled closer, tucking up beneath Chris’s chin. “I love you, Chris. Good night.”
“Good night,” Chris said, and closed his eyes.
“You already wrote the letter?” Erik asked with surprise as Howie handed it to him.
“I wrote it yesterday,” Howie said. “Here’s the necklace.”
“Okay.” Erik glanced at the clock; he was already late. “I’ll do it right after rehearsal, and I’ll call you after I leave JC’s house.”
“Don’t rush it,” Howie said.
“I won’t.”
“Don’t just drop everything off. Give him time to-”
“I’m going to do my best to represent you, Howie, but if you really want it done right, you could just do it yourself,” Erik said with a quirk of a smile.
“You’ll do fine,” Howie said, taking a deep breath. “I trust you. I’m just nervous.”
“Let me be nervous,” Erik said. “I’m the one doing it. You just wait for me to call you and tell you how much he loves you.”
Howie embraced him. “Thank you so much for this, Erik-Michael.” His arms tightened. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I just want you guys to be back together,” Erik said. “I just want you to be happy again.”
Howie pulled back, concerned. “JC’s not happy?”
“Of course he’s not happy,” Erik said. “He’s not happy without you. There’s something kind of…” Erik shrugged helplessly. “He gets quiet, he gets this really sad and far away look on his face - - it’s like he goes somewhere else in his head, and sometimes it takes a minute to get his attention.”
“How often does that happen?” Howie asked.
“All of the time.” Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. He didn’t want Howie to worry about it. “I don’t know, maybe he just has a lot on his mind.”
“Probably,” Howie said, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“I have to go,” Erik said, and kissed him. “I’ll call you later to tell you how happy JC is.”
“Thank you,” Howie said, and gave him a kiss in return. “I’m sorry that you’re late.”
“That’s okay,” Erik said. “It was worth it.”
“Chris.” A gentle shaking of his shoulder. “Chris, it’s time to get up. You remember what Mr. Johnson said about being late again.”
Opening his eyes, Chris sat up, scrubbing at his face with one hand.
“Go on and get in the
shower,” Brian said. “I’ll finish ironing your shirt while you’re in there.”
Chris looked at him. “You haven’t ironed my shirt yet?”
Hurt, irritated, Brian said, “I had a lot to take care of yesterday. There was the-”
“Never mind,” Chris said, getting out of bed. “Never mind, just do it now.” He slammed the door when he went into the bathroom.
When Chris got out of the bathroom, he put on his freshly ironed clothes. Brian handed him a slice of freshly buttered toast in the kitchen, then busily made his lunch. “You’d better get out of here,” Brian said, checking the time. “I was thinking about making pot roast for dinner.”
“Whatever you want,” Chris said.
“You have crumbs everywhere,” Brian said, brushing at his chest. “Try to be home before six. We have the Leonards coming over for bridge tonight, and-”
“I know, I know.” Chris grabbed his lunch from the countertop.
“Okay, well, have a good day,” Brian said, and kissed him.
“You, too,” Chris said. His tone was impatient but his kiss lingered. “Bye, babe. See you tonight.”
“Bye, Chris.”
Lunch in hand, Chris left.
Erik left Howie’s letter and the necklace in the car, so he wouldn’t have to explain them to the guys. He hurried into the house as quietly as he could, coat and tie in hand, unbuttoning his cuffs as he went, hoping that-
“Here you are,” Jacob said with feigned enthusiasm. “Looks, guys, Erik finally made it!”
Erik paused halfway up the stairs, one hand on the railing, and looked down to where Jacob stood. Ashley and Trevor flanked Jacob, looking up at Erik; Dan stood behind them, looking elsewhere, not participating. “I’m late, and I’m sorry,” Erik said, to shut them up. “I’ll go change, and then-”
“Why are you wearing a suit?” Jacob asked. “Hot date last night?”
“I didn’t see you dress up for your hot date with Brian,” Erik said.
“That wasn’t a date,” Jacob snapped.
“Oh, right, sorry.” Erik smiled. “Double date.”
“What’s that?” Ashley asked.
Shit. Shit, shit. “What’s what?” Erik asked.
Ashley’s gaze focused on Erik’s wrist as he walked closer. “Where’d you get that bracelet?”
“I bought it.”
“You bought this?” Ashley asked, touching it. “For yourself?”
“Are those real?” Trevor asked.
“We could ask Dan,” Jacob suggested. “He knows a lot about expensive bracelets for men who wear women’s jewelry.”
“Shut up.” Suddenly, Dan was in the conversation, and his eyes were on fire. “If Erik has a new bracelet, then he has a new bracelet. If he bought it, he used his own money and it’s none of your business. If it’s a gift from someone else, then that’s between him and the other person. You have Brian’s diamonds in your ears and you want to know about Erik’s bracelet? I’m sick and tired of the petty bullshit we all dredge up to attack each other with, and I don’t want to hear it. We have work to do, and I want to get it done, because this group is the only thing I have any influence over right now, and I’m not fucking up one more thing in my life.”
Jacob opened his mouth.
“I don’t want to hear it,” Dan said, and he meant it so much that Jacob’s mouth closed. “Go up and get changed,” he told Erik. “Rehearsal starts in five minutes, and it lasts until we get it right.”
He’d come home from work right after breakfast, so it only made sense that he was on his way back to work the next morning only two hours later.
A few miles from Brian’s house, Chris pulled over to the side of the road. With shaking hands, he opened the small brown bag containing his lunch. Inside, he found a napkin, a chicken salad sandwich, an apple, a small bag of chips, and a neatly wrapped lemon square.
He wasn’t hungry, but Brian had made him lunch, so he ate it. The alternative would be not to eat it, but he couldn’t throw it away - - it was a gift from Brian - - and chicken salad wouldn’t save well.
The bag of chips, he set aside. That, he could preserve. And that, if found, would never connect him to Brian - - Brian didn’t even eat that kind - - so he was safe.
Brian had neatly pressed his T-shirt and jeans as if they were a business suit. He straightened his shirt so he wouldn’t wrinkle it and ruin Brian’s hard work. When he’d gotten dressed to come visit Brian earlier that morning, he would’ve worn something nicer if he’d known that Brian would end up ironing it.
That ugly scene in the kitchen, how mean he’d been, how badly he’d treated Brian… Cursing at Brian like that... Even “the next morning,” when he’d been callous and dismissive, taking Brian for granted… Brian had slapped him. Brian had said “I love you” and he hadn’t said it back. Just thinking about it made Chris want to skewer himself. He’d been a loathsome jackass, a selfish, arrogant bastard, he’d been mean to Brian, and every second of it had been terrible. Torturous. These were crimes he couldn’t atone for. Treating Brian that way was absolutely unforgivable.
Brian. He loved Brian. He’d never say anything, anything even slightly negative to Brian. All he wanted to do was love Brian. But he’d been mean and Brian’d had to slap him and it hurt, it hurt so much more than one little smack could account for.
But he hadn’t had a choice. He’d had to do certain things and say certain things and act a certain way, because that was what Brian had wanted from him. There was a script in place, and Chris wasn’t allowed to deviate from that script. Doing what Brian wanted, no matter how much it hurt, was always better than going against Brian’s wishes. As much as it hurt to play along, Chris had learned long ago that not participating was far, far worse.
His precious, precious time with Brian was still too rare, and he desperately needed to soak up every second of it. And instead of spending that time loving Brian the way he needed to, he’d spent it being an asshole and making Brian unhappy. Making Brian unhappy, making Brian unhappy, Chris would cut off and sell his own body parts to keep Brian from being unhappy.
He’d been terrible to Brian. He’d treated Brian horribly. And he’d acted superior to Brian. No one was superior to Brian. No one.
He didn’t like seeing Brian insecure and emotional. Not Brian. Brian was too strong for that. Brian could handle anything.
He had gotten to make love to Brian, though. He’d made Brian come, twice, and that was a sacred gift, always to be treasured. Except, if he could possibly not like an aspect of making love to Brian, he didn’t like it when Brian fell asleep. He didn’t know how Brian could fall asleep. And it made him feel so alone in the world, fucking Brian’s sleeping, unaware body in the dark. It made him feel like he did when he was alone and hurting and loving Brian and Brian was too far away to know or care. Like no matter how much he loved Brian, it just didn’t matter. It’d never make a difference. It would never touch Brian.
His real Brian liked to make love with the lights on. Sometimes softer, more romantic mood lighting; sometimes bright lights, so he couldn’t hide anything, so Brian could see everything. His Brian only made love in the dark when there was a specific reason for it.
He did kind of like the soft, pleasured sounds that this other Brian had made “last night,” though. He liked any sound that meant that Brian felt good and was going to come soon. While he did prefer his own Brian’s sounds, he liked this Brian’s noises, too. Maybe because they sounded like the soft, little, breathy, excited sounds that some women made.
He wished that he could follow through on his promises and take care of Brian. But Brian wasn’t his princess. Brian was too independent to be taken care of by anyone, especially him.
When he heard the ring, he stopped shivering and chewing off his fingernails, and picked up the phone.
It was Brian.
Brian was calling him.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Hey, Chris,” Brian said. “It’s Brian Littrell.”
Brian was using the light, upbeat, breezy voice. “Hi,” Chris said, pushing a smile into his tone. “How’s it been?”
“I’ve been great,” Brian said. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Not since, when was it? That trip to the hat museum?”
Hats of the Ages. Campcross, Texas. “A year and three months.”
“Right!” Brian said. “That was a fun trip. I had no idea old hats could be that interesting.”
“I had a great time,”
Chris said. “The armadillo ranch was great, too.”
“Where’d we stay?” Brian asked. “What was the name of that hotel?”
A spasm of pain shot through Chris’s body at the sudden memory jolt. He shuddered, fighting off the terrors of what Brian had done to him. “The Romantic Texan.”
Quick laughter. “That’s right! They had heart-shaped lassos on the wall and wooden bathtubs.”
Chris’s hands shook as memories flashed through his mind like a horror show.
“So, what have you been up to?”
“I’m, uh…” His brain kept showing him things he didn’t want to see. Chris forced himself to keep up. Brian had asked him a question. “We’re taking a little break, so I haven’t been doing much lately. I’ve mostly been, uh, making new friends.”
“Sounds good,” Brian said, upbeat and friendly. “I heard that Justin and AJ got back together.”
“Yeah. I haven’t seen them yet, but I hear they’re really happy.” He was breathing strangely, he was about to hyperventilate, he had to calm down but he kept seeing, kept remembering, kept, oh, god, he was going to vomit and pass out. No, no, please, not now, he didn’t-
“I’m really glad that they worked things out,” Brian said. “Oh - - I have to go, but listen, we should get together for drinks some time. Catch up.”
“Yeah,” Chris said. Chicken salad churned in his stomach. “That would be great.”
“Great,” Brian said. “I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” Chris said, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to inhale. “Bye.”
“Bye, Chris.” Brian hung up.
Chris barely got the car door open in time to lose his special Brian-made lunch right there in the street. Shivering and nauseous, he couldn’t stay upright, so he dropped heavily across the front seats, gasping for air as the world went black.
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