"A Simple Game"

A Simple Game

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Backstreet Boys

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden Slashers.

Wherein it's huge, swollen, and yellow?

Nick dropped beside Brian on the couch. "I have a huge..."

"Crush on your mother," AJ said.

"Favor to ask you," Brian said.

"Zit on the end of my nose," Howie said.

"Penis," Kevin said, sighing. AJ never lost.

Kevin waited for security to give the go-ahead. "I have a tiny..."

"Mole on my shoulder," AJ said.

"Bit of cake left on my plate," Brian said.

"Brain," Nick said, desperate for something to say.

"Penis," Howie said, accepting the loss gracefully.

Two days later, Howie challenged over dinner. "I have a yellow..."

"Off-the-shoulder taffeta dress from DKNY," AJ said.

"Tint to everything since the run-in with the Magic Marker Police," Brian said.

Kevin thought fast. "Scarf that goes really well with AJ's dress."

"Penis!" Nick said, frustrated.

Nick didn't bide his time but came right back with it as soon as twenty-four hours had passed. "I have a swollen..."

"Pituitary gland," Brian said.

"Eye since AJ hit me," Howie said.

It was Kevin's chance! AJ could lose!

"Ego the size of Mount Olympus," AJ said.

Kevin almost refused to say it. "Penis."

There were rules. Only one challenge every twenty-four hours. No using the same adjective twice in a row. If there was no clear loser, the challenge would be issued again, with a new adjective, within the hour. The only acceptable one-word answer was "brain," to be used sparingly and in good faith. The challenge had to be an ambush; warning any player of an upcoming challenge was in violation of the rules and would result in dismemberment.

AJ never lost.

They'd been playing for years. The game had begun back when Nick was maybe fifteen and inserted the word "penis" in people's statements. One afternoon Howie had given Nick leading statements such as, "The bus is about to crash into a...," "I forgot to bring my...," "Let me call her on my cellular..." After a while, Brian began to break in with ridiculous yet G-rated conclusions to replace Nick's "penis." From there, the game was born.

Kevin tended to lose because he spoke slowly. Nick tended to lose because he thought slowly. If Kevin and Nick were on the ball, Howie lost.

The trick was to make the challenge come as such a surprise that someone wouldn't realize they were playing until it was too late. As a result, sometimes one of them would think the challenge had been issued when it hadn't, which led to outrageous statements and public embarrassment.

Brian was the master of misleading them. He could string Nick along for days, even weeks, with false starts.

Kevin was pouring himself some water. Thoughtfully, casually, he said, "I have a missing..."

"Tooth since I ran with the bulls at Pamploma," AJ said.

"Oh, shit," Nick said, realizing that they were playing, thinking fast.

Brian made an anxious face, unable to come up with anything.

"Dog since it ran away all those years ago with my coin collection," Howie said, preferring to sound stupid over losing.

"Foot since I lost it," Nick said.

"Penis," Brian said. "And that makes it really hard to pee." Nick laughed.

Kevin didn't know why they played the game. They'd been playing it, sometimes often and sometimes not for long stretches, for years. It was pointless and juvenile.

But whenever Nick lost, Kevin remembered that slow afternoon. The five of them sitting backstage somewhere. Nick, young and beautiful and innocent. Howie leading him on, the rest of them watching, listening, in a steadily growing, increasingly poignant silence until Brian came to Nick's rescue before Nick noticed anything odd in the attention they gave him.

"I have a red-"

"-penis."

"I'll watch it on my-"

"-penis."

"Look at that girl's-"

"-penis."

"Have you met my friend's-"

"-penis."

"Wow, that's a hairy-"

"-penis."

"What a big fat-"

"-penis."

"Have you read about the-"

"-penis."

"Would you like to borrow my-"

"-penis."

"Can I autograph your-"

"-penis."

"Did you ever taste such good-"

"-penis."

The word had lost meaning for Nick, and was only a silly, irritating game.

For the rest of them...

Nick had been too young, too pretty, too immature. Not one of them, not one, would dare to use Nick, to hurt him, to take advantage of his youth, trust, or friendship.

That didn't mean that the idea never crossed their minds.

Maybe that was why they played the game. To remind themselves that once upon a time, they could have done something dark and tempting and wonderfully sinful, and they hadn't. Each could have done it on his own. They even could have done it together, the four of them. Nick would not have said no.

But they hadn't. And they wouldn't.

And they continued to play the game, to remind themselves of the thin line they'd once walked...and still were tempted to cross.

matthew@matthewtime.com
Short stories
Boyslash
Home

MatthewHaldemanTime.com