"Sucker"

Sucker

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 seventy-five

“Dinner,” Trevor said, rolling onto his back on the bed, gazing at the ceiling. “Dinner with Brian Littrell. Justin Timberlake. AJ McLean.”

“It does sound…um…interesting,” Chris said, since using more appropriate words might give too much away.

“Interesting?” Trevor repeated, sitting up. “Interesting? Having dinner with an ex-girlfriend is interesting. Having dinner with Brian Littrell, Justin Timberlake, and AJ McLean is fucking awesome. Can you imagine-”

He could, a little too well, so he interrupted with, “Why are you so excited about this? AJ hasn’t been very friendly to anyone in this house.” Chris tried to remember the body count. “He almost drowned Erik, he assaulted Ashley, he assaulted Jacob, he got into it with you…”

“Don’t remind me about that last one,” Trevor said, flopping onto his back again. He reached out, tugging on the cuff of Chris’s jeans, so Chris crawled closer, sitting nearer now. “The rest of that, I know it’s bad, and I know that AJ’s - - but he’s still AJ.” Sighing, Trevor rolled onto his side, resting his head on Chris’s thigh. Chris stroked his hair. “Brian’s over here all of the time and Justin was here a lot and AJ’s tried to take out most of my friends, and I know that it’s stupid, but I’m still… It’s AJ, it’s Brian, it’s Justin. That won’t stop being huge to me.”

“I hope that it doesn’t stop,” Chris said. He liked Trevor’s enthusiasm. Trevor was still a fan, not yet jaded. He didn’t want that to change.

“I don’t…” Shifting onto his back, Trevor looked up. Chris caressed his hairline. “I don’t want you to think that I’m with you just because I love *NSYNC, because I know that you don’t want that and I kind of know how it feels-”

“I know you’re not with me because of that.” He did. Trevor ran deeper than that. It might’ve made things easier if Trevor were a little more shallow.

“Sometimes I get this kick in the ass, like, damn, this is Chris Kirkpatrick of *NSYNC. I thought that I’d get over it, but I haven’t. It makes me feel really weird, it makes me feel…”

Waiting, giving Trevor enough space to complete that thought, Chris lifted his hand as Trevor sat up.

“A little nervous,” Trevor admitted. “Kind of unworthy, and really incredibly turned on.”

“I am very sexy,” Chris admitted. “But you shouldn’t feel unworthy of being with anyone.” He rubbed the hair on Trevor’s chin, gazing, thinking. “I’ve been with a few different people in my day, and I can assure you that you’re very, very special.”

A small, pleased smile. “I got two verys?”

“Two,” Chris agreed. “Very, very.” It was kind of funny. Brian’s status as a Backstreet Boy had been more of a roadblock than a lure, in several ways, in the beginning. And then it had almost ceased to matter. And now, in some ways, it meant more than anything. Because Brian was a Backstreet Boy first and foremost, above everything. “Sorry you couldn’t go to dinner with all of the superstars.” He wasn’t, though, because he didn’t want Brian and Trevor to come into more contact than they had to. “Maybe it’ll happen later.” It probably would. He didn’t want to think about that.

“It’s okay.” Trevor grinned. “I’d rather eat with you, anyway.”

It hurt so much and it felt so good and Justin closed his eyes to heighten the intensity of it. Each thrust brought their bodies in contact, bringing AJ against his ass, the backs of his thighs. It had started out slower, easier, but that hadn’t satisfied either one of them. He’d wanted more, and he’d heard the frustrated, impatient growl from the back of AJ’s throat that meant that AJ wasn’t satisfied, either. He’d told AJ to go harder, faster, and then the burn had started.

As the pain intensified, he’d felt it start to happen, felt the pain begin to take over, distracting him from his thoughts, from his inner torment, from reality. As AJ fucked him faster, driving into him harder, slamming against him, Howie’s dismissal slipped away. When AJ’s hands gripped his hips, the flare of pain wiped out thoughts of Brian’s smiles. AJ’s thumbs dug into the welts on his ass, and he couldn’t feel Nick’s hands on him anymore. AJ’s growl replaced Brian’s whispers, and when AJ bit his shoulder, he was gone, out of his body, out of his mind, on a different plane of existence where he wasn’t scared, abused, or in any pain at all.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Relax.” Brian slung an arm around his shoulders as they approached Justin’s front door. “It’s just AJ.”

That was easy for Brian to say. Jacob remembered too clearly the ferocity of AJ’s attack, the madness in Justin’s eyes. If either one of them decided to snap again tonight, there was no doubt who’d be the first victim. “Justin doesn’t own a gun, does he?”

“Of course not.” Brian rang the doorbell. “Don’t worry. They’ll probably be too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to notice we’re even here.”

Great. That sounded like a fun evening. Jacob couldn’t believe he was doing this.

It was sick, but impressive, how much better Justin seemed, after being fucked. By the time they’d wiped off the sofa and fixed their clothes, his hands had stopped shaking, his gaze had cleared, and his spine had straightened. He was capable of handling physical pain just fine; it was the psychological torture that threatened to break him.

“You’re breathing like a normal person again,” AJ said, stroking his cheek. Touching him still seemed to ground him.

“You didn’t break the skin, did you?” Justin asked, touching his shoulder.

“Yes.” AJ kissed him.

He kissed back, out of habit. “You’re kind of sick.”

AJ didn’t even bother to restate how deranged Justin was. “It’s barely a scratch.” The doorbell rang. “Go get the food ready.”

Justin kissed him, fingers stroking his goatee. “Can I say it?” Justin’s fingers caressed his lips as Justin met his eyes. “I know that I promised - - but I’d feel better if I said it.”

Kissing at Justin’s fingertips, AJ smiled. “You can say it.”

A deep breath; Justin kissed him again. A soft whisper against his lips. “I hate you.”

Another smile, another kiss. “Works for me,” AJ murmured. Stepping back as the bell rang again, he pushed Justin towards the kitchen. “Get moving.”

Justin smiled, really looking like himself for the first time all day, and hustled off to the kitchen.

Moving with careless ease, AJ walked to the front door. Pulling it open, he tapped his index finger twice against his right thigh. “Hey. Come on in.”

Brian gave a friendly hello, steering a wary Jacob into the house. In passing, Brian scratched his collarbone.

Internally, AJ smiled. Aloud, he said, “Dinner’s almost ready. You want something to drink?”

“Water would be great,” Brian said.

He nodded and glanced at Jacob.

“Water’s fine,” Jacob said, in a tone that suggested he’d rather drink his own urine than anything that AJ handed to him.

“Go ahead and sit down,” AJ said, gesturing to the living room. “Be right back.” He went to the kitchen, ignoring whatever Jacob was muttering to Brian about him.

In the kitchen, Justin was getting plates from the cabinet. Taking two bottles of water from the refrigerator, AJ came up behind him, kissing the back of his neck and slipping the spoon from his hand. “Go in, hand these over, and get to work,” AJ whispered, turning Justin around and handing him the bottles.

“Without you?” Justin asked, looking worried.

“This is your chance,” AJ whispered, leaving a few short kisses on his lips. “You can be as sassy as you want. Whatever bullshit he throws at you, you can throw right back. You need to find a time to assert some authority and sass me, too, so Jacob knows you’re not afraid of me.”

“Come with me,” Justin whispered.

“I’ll be there in a minute, as soon as I get the table ready.” A few more kisses, a hand gently squeezing his hip. “Go ahead. If you get off-track, just pretend you’re me.”

A moment’s hesitation, but Justin knew better than to refuse. Instead, he took one last, lingering kiss, and then squared his shoulders and left the kitchen.

AJ trusted Justin to obey, especially in front of Brian.

Dan sat on the edge of the pool, watching the calm surface of the water. Calm. Undisturbed. Peaceful. It didn’t calm him at all; it only reminded him of the thin veil of normalcy that Justin put up, and how easily all of the chaos beneath cracked through.

He needed to know that Justin was all right, that Justin was coping. He needed to know that Justin was taking care of himself, and that someone was looking out for him.

Mentally, he wrote out a list. Justin, JC, Joey, Chris, Lance. AJ, Nick, Brian, Kevin, Howie.

Justin, no. He wasn’t going to contact Justin and risk getting caught by AJ. He wasn’t ready to underestimate AJ again.

Joey, no. He didn’t like Joey, he didn’t trust Joey, and he had every reason to believe that Joey would refuse to help him.

Chris hadn’t been of any help before, but Chris was a decent guy and seemed to like him okay. He was willing to try that route again.

JC and Lance… So far, they were unknown entities. JC and Justin had known each other for a long time, and Dan could only assume that JC might give more of a crap about Justin than the other guys. Lance seemed reasonable enough and didn’t have a tie to Backstreet like the others did. Dan put mental question marks beside both of their names.

He wasn’t going to approach AJ unless every other avenue failed him.

He wasn’t going to try Nick, either. Nick was too much of a bully; Dan couldn’t hope to appeal to his sympathy.

Brian… Dan turned that idea over in his mind. Maybe. Maybe not. He wasn’t sure where Brian’s first loyalty lay, but he suspected that it was with AJ.

Howie was another unknown, but it couldn’t hurt to talk to him. Dan was running out of other Boys to approach.

Running over his mental list again, Dan remembered Kevin. In all of Backstreet, Kevin was the one most likely to be open to what Dan had to say. If he was as strict and took his role in the group as seriously as it sounded like he did, he probably wasn’t one hundred percent pleased with AJ’s behavior, anyway. And if he liked Trevor enough to spend that much money pimping out the car of someone he wasn’t even sleeping with, maybe he’d be willing to listen to Dan.

Chris. JC. Lance. Howie. And, at the top of the list, Kevin.

Now Dan just had to decide what the hell he was going to say.

“Hi,” Justin said. One foot in front of the other. Brian’s lips brushed his ear as Brian whispered terrifying things in a delicately soft voice. Kevin would want him to do well tonight, would want him to please AJ and Brian, would want him to obey AJ’s wishes. “How’re you doing?” Jacob’s chin went up as Justin’s hands tightened their grip on his neck. Passing over the bottles of water, Justin pulled his hands back too fast, not wanting to risk touching either Brian or Jacob. He sat on the recliner and gave them his best happy-to-see-you smile, the one that always passed for real.

“It’s good to see you,” Brian said. He twisted off the bottle cap and Justin remembered feeling that same twisting, pulling motion from that exact hand, only slower, and hotter, and accompanied by-

“Haven’t seen you around lately,” Jacob said. His expression was watchful, calculating; he was ready to go for the kill.

Justin knew what Jacob meant, what Jacob was driving at; he hadn’t been around lately, hadn’t been at the Townhouse lately, hadn’t spent time with Dan lately. He’d been with Dan during every available second, and then he’d stopped, and it had to look bad to everyone else. It felt bad to him, too, but he couldn’t explain that to Jacob, couldn’t say how scared and desperate and alone he felt, how much he longed for Dan, how much he yearned to have Dan back in his life.

He tried to remember AJ’s directions. Attitude. With a mental deep breath, he did his best imitation of AJ’s shrug, leaning back casually, unaffected. “I’ve been busy.” He slowly flashed his best AJ shark smile. “AJ gets a lot of my time.”

“Guess that means you don’t have any time for Dan,” Jacob said.

Brian’s tongue flicked over the mouth of the water bottle, evoking memories Justin would’ve much rather kept repressed. He felt his hand sliding over his own forearm, straying towards his wrist, and he stopped himself, pretending to clasp his hands together casually, unwilling to be caught rubbing the place where Dan’s bracelet belonged. He needed to reply to Jacob, but he wasn’t sure which words to use. What would AJ say? How would AJ make Jacob shut up?

“AJ comes first,” Justin said calmly, like it was an obvious truth. “That’s the way he wants it, and that’s the way I want it. Dan was a great friend, but AJ doesn’t want him around me or me around him.”

“I see,” Jacob said. Every word from his mouth sounded cynical, suspicious, dry. “So that’s it. Whatever AJ wants.”

“That’s it,” Justin agreed, looking right at him. “Whatever AJ wants.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed.

Without blinking, Justin slid his gaze left, to Brian. It seemed to him like something AJ would do, a dismissive gesture, turning his attention elsewhere. Now that he’d looked at Brian, though, he had to come up with something to say. And all he could think of was the dread icing his veins as Brian kissed - - he couldn’t go there now, he couldn’t do that, he had to stay in the moment, in character. For AJ, for Kevin. He was AJ’s boyfriend, AJ’s lover, AJ’s partner, AJ’s perfect match. AJ’s other. Attitude.

What would AJ say to Brian?

More importantly, what would AJ say to Brian in front of Jacob?

Suddenly, Justin knew exactly what to say.

He smiled. “How’s Lance? I didn’t get a chance to talk to him today.”

Ashley was on the couch with Erik, watching TV, when he heard, “Ashley!”

Looking overhead, he shouted back, “What?!”

“Can I borrow your blue shirt?”

“My blue shirt?” he asked Erik. Erik shrugged. “Which one?” he called back.

“The one with the - - this one!”

Rolling his eyes, Ashley got up, starting up the stairs. “What do you need it for?” he asked as he reached the landing.

“We’re going out,” Trevor said. “You want to come?”

His first instinct was to say yes, but then he remembered his manners. “Are you sure? If you and Chris-”

“I’m cool,” Chris said, strolling into the hallway. He had on one of Trevor’s shirts, and he looked pretty good. “Those other guys can come, too, if they want.”

“Okay,” Ashley said. “Thanks.”

“Can I borrow the shirt?” Trevor asked.

“No way,” Ashley said with a grin, taking it from his hand. “Now I’m wearing it.”

“You-”

“You want me to look good, don’t you?” he asked, going into his room to change.

“You - - what the hell am I supposed to wear?” Trevor demanded.

“I don’t know, but you’re not getting this back,” Chris said, as Ashley closed the door.

Lance. Justin had brought up Lance. There were millions of possible conversation topics, millions of things for Justin to have asked about, and the one he chose was Lance.

No wonder Jacob hated these people. They were agonizingly stupid, limited in their scope of thought, vain, boring, and endlessly self-referential.

While Brian was busy extolling Lance’s non-existent virtues and Justin was busy nodding and agreeing like Lance was remotely interesting, AJ walked into the room and sat right down on Justin’s armrest, like the other furniture in the room wasn’t worthy of his ass.

Not even two seconds passed before Justin put his hand on AJ’s thigh. His fingers stroked this way, then walked that way, then crept around AJ’s pocket, then visited his belt loop, then disappeared behind him. From Jacob’s vantage point, it looked like Justin was absent-mindedly rubbing the small of AJ’s back.

Was that something that they were obligated to do in front of other people? Had they been confused into thinking that he wanted to see them caress each other?

The conversation drifted from Lance to tales of nightmare personal assistants to where to get the best sneakers. (Their consensus seemed to be: have the manufacturer ship them directly, so as to avoid pesky little things like shopping and paying.) Then AJ said, “You ready to eat?”

“Sure,” Brian said. As they all got up, AJ tugged his shirt down in the back, like Justin had pushed it up during all of that groping and petting. The four of them walked into the dining room. It was larger than Howie’s, but not as interesting or well-decorated. Of course Justin Timberlake wouldn’t simply eat in the kitchen, like Kevin or other normal people.

It was going to be a long night.

Trevor found Erik in the living room. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Erik said, giving him a glance. “You going somewhere?”

“I’m going out with Chris and Ashley. You want to come?”

“Uh…” Erik hesitated. “Nah, I don’t think to.”

Trevor must have misheard him. “Come on, it’s just me and Ashley and Chris, we-”

Erik shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.”

That was a lie. Trevor knew that was a lie, because Erik always felt like going out. “Anything going on? Something interesting on TV you have to catch? A big infomercial coming up?”

“I just don’t feel like going out,” Erik said.

Erik wasn’t going to budge and wasn’t going to talk about it. Bewildered, Trevor said, “Okay. If you change your mind…”

“Thanks.”

Deciding not to push, he went to track down Dan, ending up standing by the pool. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dan said, looking up at him. “What can I do for you?”

“You can come to the club,” he said. “I’m going, Ashley’s going, Chris is going, what more do you need for a big party?”

“Probably beer,” Dan said. “And chips. Chips and beer. And I wouldn’t say no to adding a woman or two to the mix, but I might be in the minority there.”

Dan smiled at him, and he smiled back. It was good to see Dan smiling. It didn’t happen as often these days. “You’ll come?”

Hesitance entered Dan’s expression. “I-”

“Don’t start,” Trevor said. “Erik already said he’s staying home, which is a little too Twilight Zone for me. I know you want to be here in case Justin calls, but… Don’t bite my head off for saying this, but he probably won’t call tonight.”

“I-”

“Come with us, bring your cell phone, he knows the number.” He wanted Dan to go along, and he thought that Dan needed a break, anyway. “There will be beer there. And women.”

Dan looked torn. “I don’t know. I know what you’re saying, you make a lot of sense, I just don’t… Justin’s situation scares me, and I promised to help him, and I have this feeling like - - it’s like if I wait for him and make sacrifices for him and stay here holding vigil, somehow he’ll know that I haven’t abandoned him.”

“I’ve never seen you abandon anyone,” Trevor said. “I know you want to help Justin, I’m sure that he knows it, we all know it. You missing a night at the club won’t do anything. He’ll still have the same night he was going to have.”

“If I’m out enjoying myself, and something happens to him-”

“If anything happens to Justin, anything, Chris will get a call. And Chris will be with us, at the club, so you’ll hear all about it. If Justin calls you, he’ll call your cell, which you can answer at the club. And while you’re waiting for those calls, you can dance, and drink, and talk to pretty girls. I’ll even talk to some with you, if you’ve forgotten how.”

A smile from Dan. “Chris won’t mind that?”

“Me talking to girls? I don’t think he’ll care.” He wondered. “I’m going to go ask him. Get dressed, we’re leaving soon.” Going back upstairs, he found Chris in the bathroom, fixing his hair.

Trevor liked the way those jeans fit Chris’s thighs. He loved seeing his shirt on Chris’s body. He liked watching Chris groom himself. “Very hot.”

“You know it.” Chris glanced at him. “You need something?”

“I just like to watch.” He might have to fuck Chris in that shirt when they got back from the club. “Would you care if I talked to girls?”

“Talked to? Spoke to? Conversed with? Flirted with? Chatted up? Hit on?” Finished fixing his hair, Chris looked at him again. “I don’t have a lot of competitiveness or jealousy in me anymore. I wouldn’t mind you talking to anyone you want. Conversation’s a fine thing.” A pause while Chris thought about it. “I wouldn’t mind you dancing with girls, either. Or flirting. That might even be really cute.”

Cute? Trevor tried to decide whether that was flattering or not.

“I’d probably even get over it if you fucked girls,” Chris said, and Trevor felt his brain undergo a major shift. “Guys, probably not, but girls… As long as it was just a casual, random event. I’d really, really miss you if we didn’t keep spending time together.”

Trevor stared at him. It was hard to know where to start. “You’d be okay with me screwing around?”

“You and I aren’t…together, like that,” Chris said. “I don’t have the right to keep you from having sex with other people.”

“But it wouldn’t bother you,” Trevor said. “If I did.”

“A girl or two, once in a while, I’d get over it.”

Holy freaking - - “Okay,” Trevor whispered to himself, pressing his hands to his eyes. “Okay, okay.” Sometimes he just wanted to find out which aliens had taken over Chris’s brain. “You’re being honest, you’re being open, you’re being clear. You’re telling me how you feel, where you stand, and that’s good, that’s a good thing.” He wanted to hit himself in the head. “I’ll be honest, too, that’d be good, I’ll tell you where I stand, so we’re all being nice and honest with each other.”

“Okay,” Chris said.

Dropping his hands, he shoved them into his pockets. It was his safe alternative to jacking Chris up against the wall. “If you fuck anyone who’s not me, I’m going to lose my mind, go ballistic, and hurt whoever the son-of-a-bitch or daughter-of-a-bitch is. Then I’m going to fall into a horrible depression and the sun will never shine again.”

“Oh,” Chris said. He blinked a little. “That wouldn’t be good.”

“Seeing you flirt with someone would be a turn-on. It would also make me jealous as hell, and I’d end up doing something like fucking you for an hour straight just to prove stupid shit to myself about how I can have you and nobody else can.”

“Do you have issues?” Chris asked.

“I have a hundred!” he exclaimed. “And they’re all about you!”

“Oh.” Chris tried to smile. “Good for me?”

“I’m not going to fuck other people! I’m not fucking anyone who isn’t you!”

“You can,” Chris offered. “If you want. If they’re not guys.”

“Are you stupid?!” Trevor demanded. “I don’t need your permission! I’m not fucking other people because I don’t want other people! I don’t care if they’re men or women or birds! I don’t want them! I want you! I’m in love with you! You’re not going to miss me if we’re not spending time together, because I’m not going anywhere!”

“Oh.” Chris seemed to understand. “I, okay, right. Good, that makes sense. So, no other people?”

“No other people!”

“Right.” Chris nodded. “Okay.”

God, he couldn’t take this. Trevor cupped Chris’s face in his hands and kissed him. “You drive me up the damned wall.”

“In a clown car?” Chris guessed, smiling, stroking his chin.

“In a clown car,” Trevor agreed, and kissed him again. “When we get to the club, I’ll talk to whoever I want, and you talk to whoever you want, and we’ll hang out and dance with other people, but when we get home, it’s just you, me, the bed, and the lube.”

Chris kissed him. “The bed’s optional.”

Trevor grinned. “Now you’re talking.”

He’d started off okay. Disliking Jacob somehow made talking to Jacob easier. But then he’d had to talk to Brian, and he’d started to feel scattered and anxious, breathing a little too fast, hearing Brian’s voice whispering things in the back of his mind.

Then AJ had come into the room, sitting close by him, close enough to touch. Justin had grounded himself in AJ, and AJ had joined the conversation. Talking to Brian scared him, but talking to AJ was normal. He’d started to feel more secure again.

Then they’d come into the dining room. AJ pulled their chairs casually close, resting a foot on the bottom rung of his chair. He rested his hand on AJ’s leg.

He was nervous, because now he was trapped at the table, facing Brian and Jacob. He had to keep the façade up, keep the game going, keep from letting anything slip in front of Jacob - - and all with Brian right there, smiling.

Immediately, Justin wondered how he was going to get through the night. Through one hour; through the next two minutes. He was too weak, too scared, too easily shattered. His equilibrium was frighteningly easy to disturb. He couldn’t do this.

Justin couldn’t get through this. But he didn’t have to be Justin. He could be someone else.

AJ had said it, right to him.

“If you get off-track, just pretend you’re me.”

AJ. AJ didn’t get scared. AJ was strong. AJ was fierce. Intense. AJ didn’t take shit from anyone. AJ didn’t give a fuck about anything.

Taking a slow breath, Justin tried it. He relaxed his spine. Dropped his shoulders. Attempted to project cool.

Cool. Cool. AJ was cool. AJ was too cool for Jacob. Too cool for this dinner, too cool for this room. Too cool for anything and everything. It was only by AJ’s own generosity and their sheer luck that AJ was gracing them with his presence.

Smothering his laughter with a forkful of food, Justin tried not to snort it out his nose.

“Are you still laughing about that?” AJ asked him.

Justin coughed, clearing his throat. “Oh, yeah,” he said, grinning at AJ.

AJ rolled his eyes and went back to talking to Brian. Justin was kind of impressed that he’d covered that well; it had been a smooth move, acting like Justin could laugh completely out of the blue and AJ would immediately know why. Nice.

“Laughing about what?” Jacob asked. Jacob had a way of looking at Justin like his gaze could pin Justin to the wall. It was unnerving.

“It’s private,” Justin said, since he didn’t have a better answer. Needing to change the subject, he decided that it might not hurt if he expressed interest in Jacob’s life and general Townhouse business. It wouldn’t make sense for him to be that close to Dan and abruptly never care again about anything Dan-related. “How’s rehearsal going?”

“Not great,” Jacob said. “It would help if we weren’t constantly interrupted.”

“Interrupted?” Jacob seemed to have a bone to pick with someone. He wondered who’d offended Jacob most recently. Who’d interrupt rehearsal? Who even went to the Townhouse anymore? Chris? Joey?

“You have to be fair,” Brian said to Jacob. It wasn’t a reprimand; it was a respectful request.

Jacob gave Brian a smile that Justin had never seen before. Not that Jacob smiled a lot around him, anyway, but this one seemed more open, more truly amused. “I’m always fair.”

“The delivery guy didn’t know that you were having rehearsal,” Brian said.

Wondering what they were talking about, Justin glanced at AJ. AJ, eating calmly, swallowed and leaned in to kiss his temple. “Keep your shit together,” AJ whispered, kissing him there again before sitting back and going back to eating.

He wasn’t going to get nervous. AJ didn’t get nervous. Refusing to be nervous but feeling some curiosity, Justin chewed, turning his attention back to Jacob and Brian.

“I don’t expect him to know,” Jacob said. “I’m not blaming anyone, I’m just saying, shit keeps happening, rehearsal keeps being interrupted or skipped or cut short, and I’m sick of it.” He didn’t sound at all angry; he sounded like he was simply explaining.

“Okay,” Brian said. “You’re right.”

“My two favorite words,” Jacob said with a grin. The way he looked at Brian - - holy shit, he was flirting. He was flirting with Brian. Damn, he might as well break his own leg and limp towards a hungry lion. Justin didn’t know whether to warn him, or laugh.

AJ would’ve smirked knowingly. Justin checked; AJ gave him a knowing smirk with a wink for good measure. Justin grinned back.

The table was quiet. Justin glanced around; Jacob was looking right at him, waiting for his attention. Flashing a pointedly non-apologetic smile, Justin said, “You were interrupted?” He wasn’t going to act guilty for getting caught grinning stupidly at AJ; that was what he was supposed to do.

“You know Trevor’s car was vandalized,” Jacob said.

Stunned, Justin wanted to touch his stomach to make sure that he hadn’t literally been sucker-punched. Trevor’s car. Barely refraining from looking at AJ, he said, “Yeah.” Cool, he had to stay cool. Jacob didn’t know that he’d done it, and they wouldn’t tell, they wouldn’t ruin the game with the truth.

“It happened at Kevin’s house, so Kevin felt responsible for it.”

“Sounds like Kevin,” AJ said. Justin took slow, deep breaths. He didn’t want to hear Jacob say Kevin’s name. He couldn’t afford to talk about Kevin right now. He-

He was cool, he was cool, he was cool. He was AJ, and AJ wasn’t fucked up about Kevin. AJ practically took Kevin for granted. No problem. He was cool. Attitude. No apologies.

“When Trevor sent his car to the shop, Kevin slipped in a whole bunch of extras. Neon, a DVD player, candy paint, flashing lights, not just rims but spinners - - Kevin paid for everything. It was delivered during rehearsal, it was a total surprise.”

He was cool.

“Kevin felt responsible.”

Conversation flowed around him.

He was cool.

“Kevin paid for everything.”

He was cool.

“Kevin felt responsible.”

Digging his fingers into AJ’s thigh, Justin forced himself into character, denying himself the possibility of collapse. He was AJ. He was AJ, and he didn’t give a fuck. “Trevor couldn’t pay for his own spinners?”

Jacob’s gaze sharpened. So did his voice. “Trevor can afford whatever he wants. Kevin did it because he felt responsible. Because that’s what mature people with integrity do.”

Making a careless “hunh” noise, Justin glanced at AJ. “You want some dessert?”

“Sure,” AJ said, casually agreeable. “You get that, I’ll get these dishes off the table.”

“Great.” Kissing AJ’s mouth, unclenching his fingers from AJ’s thigh, he got up, leaving for the kitchen.

He was cool. He was cool. AJ. Attitude. Justin found bowls, spoons.

AJ came in, setting down a stack of plates. Hands slid over Justin’s hips; AJ kissed the side of his neck, close enough behind him for Justin to lean back a little. “You’re on fire. Keep it up.”

Reaching back with both hands, Justin slid his fingers into AJ’s pockets. “Fuck me tonight.”

“It’d be my pleasure.” AJ caressed his abs with one hand. “What are you doing?” he asked with mild interest.

“I have to call Chris,” he said, taking AJ’s phone from one pocket and flipping it open.

“Not now,” AJ said, taking it back.

“It won’t take long.” Turning between AJ and the counter, Justin reached back into AJ’s pocket.

“Hey.” AJ grabbed his wrist, trapping his hand, staring into his eyes. “Later.” AJ’s grip eased. “You can’t call him with them in the house. There’s a damned good chance he knows they’re here.”

It would be hard for Chris to talk to him while Brian was in his house, with him, not with Chris.

Chris would want to ask about Brian, would want information and details.

Justin would have trouble not getting loud, obvious, or time-consuming while he talked to Chris about Kevin and Trevor.

Justin had just that morning been in a situation with Brian that he couldn’t talk to Chris about for a whole lot of reasons.

Gazing into AJ’s eyes, he released the phone.

Kissing him softly, AJ let go of his hand. “You can call him later.”

Justin didn’t know whether AJ had done that for his sake, for Chris’s sake, or for the game. It was an odd feeling, not to be sure. Usually AJ’s motives were so damned obvious, he never had to wonder.

AJ slid his hands up Justin’s chest. “You’ve been good so far. We’ll have dessert, we’ll talk. After dessert, you take Jacob into the living room to show him our CD collection and talk about music. Slip in some kind of apology for trying to kill him earlier,” AJ said, and kissed him. Not having quite expected that, but still always somewhat ready for it whenever AJ was near, Justin kissed back, wondering when he’d put his hands under AJ’s shirt, moaning softly as AJ’s tongue stroked-

“You look busy,” Brian said. Startled, Justin opened his eyes in time to see Brian set a serving platter on the countertop. Jacob was right there, too, eyeing them with disgust. “Maybe we should-”

“Don’t worry about it,” AJ said, and oh, damn, Justin hadn’t realized that he’d put his hand there. Reddening, he withdrew it. He was going to have to pay more attention to where his hands traveled.

Turning away from Justin, AJ hitched his pants up a little, then herded Brian and Jacob from the kitchen, going with them. “Sit back down. I’m going to make you help me clean up the kitchen later, so don’t start helping now, too.”

Brian laughed. The sound sent chills racing over Justin’s limbs. Brian’s laughter reminded him of Brian’s games, Brian’s amusement, Brian’s teasing, those happy little chuckles while Brian’s eyes gleamed and Brian’s fingers - - suppressing a shiver, Justin opened the refrigerator. He was AJ. Cool. Attitude.

All he had to do was get through the rest of the evening. Then Brian would leave, Jacob would leave, and he could be alone with AJ again.

When had that become preferable?

As he dressed after his shower, JC found his gaze straying to where he knew the camera to be. He couldn’t see it, but it recorded his every move.

He’d put on a good show. What would Howie think of it? Would Howie be pleased with how far he’d pushed Erik? Would Howie think it was hot? Boring? Good work?

What would Howie think of the handcuffs? Had they been too much? Erik hadn’t protested, but JC hadn’t given him a lot of room to discuss or negotiate.

JC had been performing for an audience for a long time. Performing in front of cameras for much of his life. It was part of him; it was what he did. When he had sex, he habitually put on a good show for his partner. It was a point of pride. Doing the same for the camera hadn’t been much different. It had even turned him on, in its own, somewhat alarming way.

There was an exhibitionist streak in him. It had always been there, and it had run rampant when he’d been with Nick. It had doubled, tripled, quadrupled in size; he’d dragged Nick into every near-public sexual situation he could find, risking discovery on a constant basis. Maybe he’d gotten off on the threat of discovery. On the knowledge of having something so incredibly private and secret and unknown so close to exposure. Maybe he’d wanted to be found out. Before Nick, if he’d been discovered, he would’ve been outed, and covering up his homosexuality would have been an impossibility; he would’ve been freed. With Nick, he could’ve dragged their relationship into the spotlight, and maybe he’d wanted that. What they’d shared had been so important, so monumentally and wildly wonderful to him, that he hadn’t wanted to keep it a secret. He’d wanted the whole damned world to know.

Or maybe he simply got a kick out of danger. That would explain why he was attracted to Nick, anyway. Not that Nick was dangerous in the bad boy, rebel way; Nick was dangerous emotionally, dangerous to JC psychologically. He went too far, pushed too hard, needed too much. He was always testing, testing JC’s love, JC’s loyalty, JC’s limits. Would JC forgive this? Would JC accept that? Would JC still x if Nick y? And the answer was always yes, yes, yes, because when it came to Nick, JC had no limits. JC had loved Nick through everything, had always remained loyal, had always stayed true.

And somehow, it still hadn’t been enough.

He’d forgiven it all. Accepted it all. And he’d do it all over again, if he could. Because Nick was Nick, and JC’s heart knew no other home.

“Sure you don’t want to come with us?” Dan asked.

“It’ll be a great time,” Ashley said.

“I’m okay,” Erik said. “Have fun.”

“Okay,” Trevor said. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Erik said. They left. He dug himself deeper into the couch and glanced at the phone.

The food was good.

Brian was great.

AJ was okay.

Justin spent a lot of time with his mouth hanging open. It didn’t make him look intelligent or attractive. Jacob wondered how AJ could stand to be around that.

AJ and Justin touched each other a lot. A hell of a lot. Constantly. Justin kept at least one hand on AJ at all times. They looked at each other a lot, too; they grinned at each other all of the time, like they shared a hundred private jokes.

Even though he didn’t really like either one of them, given the choice, Jacob preferred AJ. AJ was calm, and casual, and didn’t give a fuck in a natural, low-key way. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone; he was just having dinner in a place he seemed to consider home. He said what he thought, but was relaxed about it.

Justin was kind of an asshole. It was like he was trying to provoke Jacob without getting caught. Jacob was playing it off, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of blowing up, because if Jacob went off, Justin would act like he was overreacting, and then he’d be the asshole and Justin would be innocent, and Jacob didn’t want to play that game. But it was hard not to give in and tell him to shove it.

And had they really needed to take a sex break between dinner and dessert? Walking in to find Justin with his hand shoved down AJ’s pants hadn’t done much for Jacob’s appetite. He didn’t care if they were in Justin’s own home or not, that shit was still incredibly inappropriate.

Self-centered, manipulative, bitchy, and oversexed. Pretty much what he’d expected of Justin Timberlake.

Erik wandered around the kitchen, getting a drink, as he waited for the popcorn.

He wondered how the guys were doing at the club. Probably having a good time.

“You won’t mind if I happen to call you up later tonight and ask you to come back?”

He reached for the phone, hesitated, dropped his hand.

Maybe JC needed time alone, time to think about Howie. Erik wanted him to call, but if he didn’t, that wouldn’t mean anything. They saw each other every day, anyway.

He didn’t want to be all up in JC’s face if JC wanted time to himself. So he wouldn’t call. But it wasn’t that late; there was still time for JC to call him.

The microwave beeped.

Uncorking the bottle, JC poured himself a sinfully expensive glass of wine and sat on his bed. In front of him sat a jar; nine more just like it were carefully stashed away, some in the house, some not. The jar itself was clear glass; within it were soot, ash, and fragments of a burned-down house.

Sometimes coming face-to-face with one of the jars sent JC down a too-familiar spiral of grief, misery, shame, and regret. Sometimes it made him furious, angry, humiliated. Sometimes, like tonight, it simply evoked memories, some of them very pleasant indeed.

Sipping the wine, he held the jar in one hand, gazing at its contents, seeing other things. Seeing Nick’s smile. The curve of Nick’s spine. The sunset of their last night in Hawaii. The bright sunlight on that first day on the basketball court.

So many memories. So many plans. So little time together. There was nothing more precious to JC than the time he spent with Nick.

Once upon a time, they’d talked of a future together. Now, did they really have more than a past? Nick had told him that they’d be together again after this game, but JC knew that Nick was only talking about a night, maybe two, before Nick would leave again, and JC would be alone again, and there would never be more than that.

He didn’t have a future with Nick.

Nick didn’t want a life with him.

But, once upon a time…

JC closed his eyes and breathed.

…there’d been more.

After dessert, AJ and Brian smoothly shuffled Justin and Jacob off to the living room. Justin did his part by messing with the stereo, asking what Jacob wanted to listen to, and trying to engage the son-of-a-bitch in conversation.

Jacob gave him cold, cynical, one-word answers. After basically finding himself talking to the back of Jacob’s unkempt head, Justin moved on to the next step.

“I know that I should’ve done this a while ago, but I wanted to apologize for jumping you in the practice room. I completely lost it.”

Half turned away, Jacob barely glanced at him. “I’m over it.”

Over it? “I tried to strangle you,” Justin said. He’d plotted out what he wanted to say, and he couldn’t say it if Jacob wouldn’t let him apologize. “I shouldn’t have done it, it went way too far. But things were - - I was frustrated, I was in a really bad place, I was on edge all of the time. I didn’t have AJ and-”

“Right, I’ve heard all about it,” Jacob said, turning to face him now. “You were the scared little victim boy, I get it. You don’t have to-”

“What?” Justin stared at him. “What did you call me?”

“Dan told us all about it,” Jacob said. “AJ abused you, Dan tried to save you, without Dan there to hold you together you break into tiny pieces. You’re a scared little victim boy and-”

“Shut the fuck up.” Justin wanted to punch the son-of-a-bitch out. Breathing hard, clenching his jaw, he fought for self-control. After everything he’d been through, everything he’d done for Kevin, everything he’d done in the past twenty-four, forty-eight hours, he wasn’t about to let some smug judgmental hypocritical prick call him a scared little victim. “I don’t know what you’ve heard about me from other people, but let me tell you-”

Rolling his eyes, Jacob said, “You don’t have to-”

“No one abuses me.” He hardened his stare until Jacob blinked first. “No one,” he repeated harshly. “AJ,” he continued firmly, glaring, stepping forward, “doesn’t abuse me. I’m not his battered little victim. He and I fight, yeah, but I give as good as I get. I am not his little bitch. AJ loves me, he takes care of me, he protects me. He’s by my side at times I don’t have anyone else in the world. He’s hit you and your little friends a lot more than he’s ever raised a hand to me.”

Jacob wasn’t quite ready to back down. “That’s not how Dan made it sound.”

Dan. Taking a deep breath, Justin made himself release some of his tension. “Dan helped me out a hell of a lot when I was going through a pretty rough time. I was going through some personal things, and I needed someone to lean on, and Dan let me lean on him the way I’m used to leaning on AJ.”

Suspicion was visible in Jacob’s expression. “What personal things?”

Justin wanted to smack him. “Do I need to explain the concept of ‘personal?’”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Jacob studied him. “So you’re not AJ’s victim.”

Just hearing the word, the accusation, from Jacob’s mouth, made Justin want to hurt him. “I’m no one’s victim. I make my own choices. I don’t expect everyone to understand our relationship, but don’t you dare fucking judge it.” It was hard to talk about this without talking about Kevin. There was no way that Jacob could wrap his tiny little judgmental brain around Kevin without exploding.

Jacob nodded slowly before issuing one final test. “Then how do you explain what Dan’s been saying?”

“I was really emotional and not all that coherent,” Justin said. “Dan was kind of thrown into a situation that was already complex before he ever got there. He saw how upset I was and he interpreted that in his own way.”

Jacob nodded again but didn’t say anything. He was probably digesting it all, getting ready to form his next judgment. Justin didn’t give a fuck what he decided. Jacob’s opinion was the least of Justin’s problems.

Erik looked at the phone.

Looked at the clock.

“Honey, if I get lonely, liquored up, and horny, you might get a late night call from me.”

He looked at the phone again.

Continue on to part seventy-seven

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