WANNABES

"Wannabes" are scenes that originally were written for "Sucker" but were deleted or rewritten along the way, shown here in their original form.

Since these scenes are not part of "Sucker" and were in fact deliberately removed from "Sucker," please do not take any of the plot points or expressed opinions as actual "Sucker" canon.  Whatever the guys say or think here in these scenes is irrelevant to the overall "Sucker" plot.
 

"Sucker" (copyright 2002-2006 by Matthew Haldeman-Time) is rated NC-17 for graphic male-male sex. 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.

14.) JC, Joey, Nick ("Sucker" 76/77)
JC gets drunk; Joey comes to his rescue.

Author's note: I don't remember when (or even if) it's explained that Nick prefers JC not to get drunk, so JC rarely drinks much and has a lower tolerance for alcohol than one might expect.

            JC toasted the camera in the corner of the room.  He couldn’t see it from where he sat, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t there.  Like all of those wounds that Nick had inflicted.  They were emotional, they were psychological, they were invisible.  But they were still there.  They still hurt.

            Cameras.  Recording him.  Recording him with Erik.  Recording them fucking.  Recording him crying.  Recording every little second and every little thing so that Howie could watch.

            And what was Howie going to think?

            JC hurled his empty glass in the camera’s direction.

            Fuck Howie.  He grabbed his phone and crawled right over to the camera, avoiding the shards on the floor, and dialed right in front of the camera’s eye.

            “You got Joey.”

            JC glared at the camera.  “Is Nick there?”

            “JC?”  Joey sounded like he was half-frowning and half-unsure.

            “Is Nick there?”  He hadn’t bothered to call any of Nick’s phones, because Nick wouldn’t answer for him.  Calling Joey wasn’t fair to Joey but when the hell had life last decided to be fair to JC?

            “JC, how much have you had to drink?”

            He wanted to drink Nick, he wanted to breathe Nick, he wanted to, he, “A bottle.”

            “Are you alone?”

            “I’ve been alone since he left me.”  His eyes itched.  He rubbed at them.  He wasn’t crying but it felt like he was.  “Is he there?”

            “JC, I’m coming over.”

            “I don’t want you!”  He shouldn’t yell at Joey.  “I didn’t call for you, I called for him.”  He sounded like he was five years old.

            “I’ll bring him with me, okay?” Joey asked.  “I’ll come in first, you sound like you’re a complete mess and I know you don’t want him to see you like that.”

            “I’m not a mess.”  Oh, he was crying after all.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

            “Nick is what’s wrong with you,” Joey said.  “But I’ll bring him along, anyway.  Stay put.”  Joey hung up.

            Joey was right.  He was a mess.  A pathetic, desperate, stupid, idiotic, misguided mess.

            And, oh, god, Nick was on his way over.

            JC stared at the camera in horror.  It stared back.

            If Joey left right now and - - JC glanced at the clock and the room spun and he’d had too much to drink and Nick was coming and-

            -and the camera had a perfect shot of JC, drunk and panicked and dizzy, throwing up.

            “We’re what?” Nick asked, sitting up on the sofa.

            “He’s drunk and he’s asking for you and I promised him that I’d show up with you, so you’re coming.  I want to go now, but I’ll give you five minutes to wash your pits and change clothes.”

            “Why do I have to change clothes?” Nick asked, scratching at his chin.  He knew perfectly damned well that JC liked him dressed up, dressed down, dressed any way at all.  Especially undressed.

            “Because as far as I know, JC hasn’t had personal time with you in weeks, and if you’re finally gracing him with your presence, you might as well show up looking good.”

            Sitting back again, Nick eyed Joey.  “What makes you think I’m going to agree to go?”

            “You’re my boyfriend and I’m asking you,” Joey said.  “You’re my partner in crime and I’m telling you.  JC actually got plastered and called me up asking for you, and he’s never done that in his life, and he must be in a pretty damned bad place if he’s doing that, and if you’re going to pretend to give half a shit about him, you’ll do this for him.”

            “How plastered?” Nick asked, weighing the evidence.  If JC was sacrificing pride and friendship for this, things might be bad.

            “He’s at home alone, he drank a bottle of wine, and he’s crying,” Joey said.  “You should shave while you’re at it.”

            The doorbell rang.

            He turned off the cameras.

            That didn’t solve one of his problems, but he felt a little better.  Taking that deep breath, he approached the front door.

            Joey was outside.  No one else.

            He opened the door, pushed his hair back from his face, and said, “I’m a complete mess.”

            “I can see that.”  Guiding him back, Joey stepped inside, pushing the door shut again.  “Nick’s in the truck.  I’ll go get him once you…”  Joey’s gaze drifted behind him.

            JC scratched his nose.  “I threw up.”

            “I can see that, too.”  Joey sighed.  “You reek.  Go take a shower and try to sober up.  I’ll take care of this.”

            He didn’t want to keep Nick waiting, but Joey seemed to think that they had time.  “Is he-”

            “He took a shower, he changed clothes, and he shaved before we left.  I had to drag him out of the house while he was still trying to fix his hair.  He wants to see you, and he’s not going anywhere.”

            Really?  JC smiled, rubbing his lower lip.  Nick.  Nick had come to see him.

            “Go get cleaned up,” Joey said, giving him a push.

            Right.  Still smiling, JC ambled off towards the bathroom.

            The shower didn’t necessarily sober him up.  It did make him painfully aware of exactly how drunk he was, since his hands fumbled everything they touched and nothing seemed to be quite where it looked like it was.  Standing upright was kind of hard, so he leaned against the wall a lot.

            Drying off was oddly complicated.  Joey brought him some water to drink.  He brushed his teeth and decided to shave, since Nick had shaved for him, but Joey didn’t seem to think that it was a good idea for him to hold a razor.  Joey gave him clothes to put on, and the pajama bottoms went on just fine, but he gave up on the T-shirt when it tried to fight back.

            When Joey tried to get him into the bed, he rebelled, so Joey changed the sheets for him.  Then he got in, and Joey brought him more water and sat down with him.  “I had lunch with Lance today.”

            “He should take Howie off of my hands.  Then I wouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.”  JC was surprised to hear that come out of his mouth.  He touched his teeth.  Hmm.

            “Did you see Howie today?”

            “I saw Erik today.”  JC sighed, rubbing his forehead.  “We had a lot of sex and I started crying and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.  I want to be with Nick but I can’t be with Nick.  I’m stuck with Erik and I hate Erik.  I don’t even hate Erik, I hate this game, I hate this whole fucked-up situation, I hate Howie, I hate myself.  I don’t know who Howie is and I don’t know what Howie wants and I don’t want to be his friend or his partner or anything, I want to be with Nick.  But Howie’s so tempting, he’s so close to perfect, he’s everything I ever wanted in a man.”

            “He’s nothing like Nick,” Joey said.

            “He’s not,” JC agreed.  “Do you remember how it was before?  When I was with Nick and you were with AJ and Lance was with Howie?  I never looked at Howie then, and Howie never looked at me.  I was so consumed by Nick, and Lance and Howie were so good together, they were always right on the same page, they were so…”

            “Right for each other,” Joey agreed.  “Just like Chris and Brian.  It wasn’t like you and Nick.  You and Nick were great together, you were hot as hell together, but we were all kind of, like, JC and Nick?  It worked but it didn’t make sense.  But Lance and Howie, Chris and Brian, they were like…  They belonged together, they were made for each other.”

            “You thought we were great together?” JC asked.  Had he known that?

            “You looked terrific together,” Joey said, and it looked like a very warm, very sad memory in Joey’s eyes.  “You were so happy, and you were so in love with him, and he was so into you, JC, he was so damned about you, that we thought it had to be okay.  It was kind of scary how it seemed like you’d do anything for him, but it seemed like he’d do anything for you, too.”

            “I love you for bringing him to me when nothing else could,” JC said.  He blinked back the pain.  “I hate you for being able to do that.”

            “I know,” Joey said.  “If he agrees to stay with you, I’ll stay, too, in the other room.  I’ll take your phone so nobody can interrupt.  If Erik calls, I’ll tell him you got drunk and called me.”

            “I was supposed to get drunk and call Erik,” JC remembered.

            “Then I’ll tell him that Nick and I came over and we got drunk together.”  Joey squeezed his knee and stood.  “The flowers aren’t bad, but that shitload of bears freaked me out.”

            “Me, too,” JC admitted.

            The next thing he knew, too-perfect, too-familiar fingers were skimming his cheek.  “Hey, baby,” was murmured warmly too close, and when he opened his eyes, his heart stopped.

            Breathing was overrated.

            “I heard you were having a pretty bad night.”  Nick looked so gorgeous and so real and so Nick that JC wanted to stop time and keep this forever.  His T-shirt fit just right and his hair was perfectly gelled and the scent of him was making JC dizzy and hot.  “Do you want me to stay?”

            That was one of the most stupid, obvious, ridiculous questions ever, it was mind-boggling, but Nick’s voice was very kind and Nick’s hand was caressing his neck and there was a glint in Nick’s eyes that JC knew.

            “Yes.”  There was so much more to say that JC’s chest was tight with it, but he wasn’t ready to risk it.

            “You look like you’re about ready to go to sleep,” Nick said, settling in familiarly before him, somehow managing to share his pillow while keeping their bodies separated.  “Do you want to sleep or do you want to talk about it?”

            He didn’t want to talk about it.  He was tired of thinking about it.  He was sick of dealing with it.  Howie, Erik, Erik, Howie, the game, love, sex, desire, betrayal, intimacy.  He didn’t even know what friendship meant anymore.  He ran his fingers along Nick’s jaw and his heart pounded and he loved Nick with everything he had.  “You really did shave for me.”

            Nick smiled at him.  “You really are drunk.”

            He gazed at Nick.  He breathed.  He couldn’t imagine lifting his hand.

            Nick’s fingers stroked back through his hair.  It felt wet against his neck and he remembered that he’d showered, that he’d washed it.  He’d been too drunk to remember to comb it, and momentarily he panicked that it looked crazy, but Nick’s fingers ever so tenderly combed the tangles from it, and that did something scary and painful to his heart.

            “I don’t want you to do this to yourself,” Nick said quietly.  “You’re too good for this, JC.  Don’t let him get to you.”

            JC searched the blue of Nick’s eyes for more.  Did Nick mean Howie or Erik?  Erik, of course, it had to be, but-

            “Don’t let either one of them get to you,” Nick said.  JC’s brain fell still, paying careful attention to each word.  This felt very important.  “You’re too good for that.”  The gentle rhythm of Nick’s fingers lightly pulling through his hair made him feel very cared for.  “You’re way too good for Erik.  Don’t even worry about him.  Just keep him eating out of the palm of your hand and you’ll be fine.  And don’t sweat Howie.  I know you think he’s after you like he was after Lance, but he’s not.  Just relax and let whatever happens, happen.  I’ll still be here after it’s all over, and so will Lance, and so will everybody else, so just have a good time and let it ride.”

            Even with all of his brain cells working at their best, JC wouldn’t have been able to process all of that information and advice at once.  He blinked at Nick a few times, then tried a tentative, “Are you sure?”  He wasn’t even sure what, specifically, he was asking Nick to verify.

            “You might want to give Howie a shot,” Nick said.  “It might make things a hell of a lot easier on you.”

            Nick wanted him to give in and actually become Howie’s lover?  Nick was encouraging him to do that?  Not that he honestly expected Nick to be jealous - - it would’ve been nice, but he knew better.  Still…

            “You’re always so beautiful,” Nick said, running admiring fingers over his lips.  “I’m stuck staring at Joey first thing in the morning, and you know how that goes.”

            He wasn’t proud of himself for the feeling, but he was glad that Nick found him more attractive than Joey.  He was jealous of every second that Nick and Joey were locked together in this game, and he was fiercely pleased that Nick wanted him more.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Wannabes"

"Sucker"

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