Backstory, a "Poser" set in the "Sucker" back story

Copyright April 21, 2006-July 26, 2007 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: AJ/Joey, Brian/Chris, Howie/Lance, Kevin/Justin, Nick/JC

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys and *NSYNC 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.

Notice: This story is a "Poser," which means that it's a short story set in and around the "Sucker" universe.  Please read "Sucker" to understand what's happening here.

            The Boys left the venue to head to the hotel.

            Justin could breathe again.  He grabbed the first person he found, who happened to be JC.  “Can we get out of here?”

            “In a couple of minutes,” JC said.  “Are you okay?  You look kind of-”

            “I’m fine.”  He tried to slow down; it didn’t work.  “A couple of minutes, like two?  Like five?”

            “Like twenty,” JC said.  “Relax, have a drink, they’ll round us up when-”

            “Twenty?”  That was too long.  “Twenty minutes?”  It would take forever to get to the hotel, and even then he’d have to change; what he had on was unacceptable, he knew that now.  His shirt was trash and his pants were too tight and his hair, his hair had to be terrible, he needed a mirror.

            “You look…”  JC hesitated.  “Maybe you should eat something.  Did you even have dinner?”

            “I was too-”  He cut himself off before the word “nervous” could pass his lips.  “I wasn’t hungry.”

            “We were all kind of nervous.”  JC’s smile was understanding and gently embarrassed.  They were always a little more tense than usual when they performed at an awards show; industry crowds were nothing like their usual fans, and any televised performance meant even more pressure than usual.  But tonight they’d performed in front of the Boys.  And these days, that generated a whole new level of anxiety.

            “Yeah.”  JC had been nervous about fucking up.  Justin had been terrified of fucking up but equally afraid of doing too well.  “I think it went okay.”

            “Joey didn’t get into the box in time, and Chris went flat in the chorus, but it was pretty good,” JC said.  “You were great, you looked fantastic.”

            “You sounded great.”  Twenty minutes couldn’t be up yet, but maybe five minutes had passed.  Maybe even six.  “Are you, uh…  You going out?  After this?”

            “Yeah.”  A slight blush graced JC’s cheeks.  “Probably.”

            Justin nodded.  His stomach was in knots.

            “What about you?”

            There were a few after-parties and of course some good clubs, but, “Maybe not.”

            “Are you sure you’re okay?” JC asked.  “If-”

            “It’s kind of hot in here,” Justin said, wiping sweat from his face.  “I think I’ll, uh, oh, hey,” he said, as an actress approached.  “Hi, how’ve you been, you look great.”  He hugged her, kissing her cheek, nodding and smiling, joking and flirting and laughing.  She complimented their performance; she invited them to a party.  “We have to run back to the hotel first,” he said.  “We’ll try to make it over there, though.  It sounds great.”

            There wasn’t a chance that he’d go.

            Lance was already dialing as he climbed into the back of the SUV.  He spent the ride to the hotel on the phone, a smile on his face, his voice a private murmur.  Chris poked at him just to be irritating; he bent Chris’s fingers back and kept talking.

            When they reached the hotel, they split up.  Justin went to his room; JC went to his room; Joey went to his room.  Still on the phone, Lance went to Howie’s room.  Before he could knock, the door opened, and Howie invited him in, pushing the door shut before pulling him into an embrace.

            Getting off of the elevator on the seventh floor, Chris found his own phone and dialed.

            “Are you still backstage?” Brian asked.

            “The call is coming from inside the hotel,” Chris said in an ominous whisper.  “Where are you?”

            “I’m in room…  I don’t know, Nick’s in 717 and AJ’s in 712, so…  Where am I?” Brian asked.  He stepped into the hallway to check his door.

            “There you are,” Chris said, spotting him.  “Prepare to be bowled over.”

            “Not - - no - - don’t you dare,” Brian warned.

            Tucking away his phone, Chris crouched down, lining himself up.

            “No!” Brian protested, laughing.  Chris began to somersault down the hallway towards him.  One revolution.  “No!”  Two.  “Chris!”  Three.  “You’re so - - ack - - help - - Chris!”  Knocked off-balance, Brian tried to recover, but Chris reached up with both hands and yanked him down.  Landing sprawled over Chris, laughing, he half-rolled, half-crawled away, into the room.

            “Stop squirming around and take it like a man,” Chris ordered, pinching and tickling.

            “Get off, get off, get off of me,” he protested, laughing, tickling back, smacking at Chris’s hands.  “Ah!  Chris!  Help!  Stop - - whoa!”

             Relenting after another few good squirms, Chris rolled onto his back, grinning up at the ceiling.

            Brian smacked his thigh and laughed.  “You were great tonight.”

            Turning his head to the side, Chris raised his eyebrows.  “All of the girls say that.”

            “I meant,” Brian pinched him twice, “onstage, performing.  You guys sounded great.”

            “Yeah, we do all right for ourselves.”

            Tugging his shirt down where it had ridden up during the struggle, Brian asked, “What do you want to do tonight?”

            “Oh…”  Chris gave him a wicked smile.  “You know what I want to do tonight.”

            With a laugh, Brian said, “I know, I just want to hear you say it.”

            “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Chris asked, leaning closer.

            Brian held up a finger.  “One word.”

            Chris held up two, grinning.  “Two syllables.”

            Brian grinned back.

            They said it together.

            “Paintball.”

            After showering and changing like he was already late, Joey knocked on AJ’s door.

            “Hey.”  AJ hugged him.  “What do you think, one out, two back?”

            “Two out,” Joey said.  “One back.”

            Approval glittered in AJ’s eyes.  “Works for me.”  Stepping into the hallway, he pulled the door shut.  “Let’s go.”

            “Oohh…  Uuhh…  Yes, oh…”  With a deep groan, Lance gripped Howie’s hips, pulling him back, thrusting in farther.  Shifting for better balance, Howie slid his knees farther apart, lowering himself slightly.  The sight of it, Howie’s tight ass and strong thighs, a glistening sheen of sweat on his naked back, long hair spilling over one shoulder as he moaned and tossed his head - - groaning, Lance moved faster, hips snapping as one hand slid hungrily up the arch of Howie’s spine.
            The shower had been quick, and he’d already planned out what to wear, but his hair wouldn’t cooperate, and he’d nicked himself shaving, and he couldn’t even find his cologne.  Either he’d left it in Boston or someone had borrowed it, and that “someone” was about to be one sorry son-of-a-bitch as soon as JC got his hands on him.

            In the hunt for his second-best cologne, a ketchup packet exploded onto JC’s jeans.

            Now cursing out Justin and Joey, JC wrenched off his boots and stripped off his jeans and pawed through his suitcase for something else to wear.  The main problem was, in choosing his first choice outfit, he’d voted against everything else.  He’d already labeled his other jeans as too tight, too baggy, too patterned, too worn-looking, etc.

            Someone knocked at the door.

            Cursing, he shimmied into “too patterned” and stormed to the door.  Maybe it would be Cologne Boy or Ketchup Eater; he’d love to give them a piece of his mind.

            It wasn’t.

            “Nick!”  His bangs were just long enough to brush his eyebrows, his smile was welcoming and sexy; he’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt.  The sight of him made JC’s heart swell and pound.

            “I knew you had to be down here by now, and I couldn’t keep waiting.”  Nick reached for him, then glanced down the hallway.  “Can I come in?”

            “Yes, yes, get in here.”  Stepping back, JC inhaled as Nick passed close by him.  God, Nick smelled delicious.  “Sorry it’s taking me so long to get ready.”

            “Damn, it’s - - I’ve missed being with you,” Nick said, curling his fingers under JC’s chin, his knuckles stroking up and down the side of JC’s neck and then along the curve of JC’s jaw.

            Dizzily warm and helplessly aroused, JC placed his hands on Nick’s waist, drawing Nick closer, gazing into eyes that saw him in ways that no one else did.  “We talk every day.”  Unable to wait any longer, he kissed Nick, pressing his lips to Nick’s, feeling heat break open inside his yearning body.

            “Mmm.”  A series of soft, short kisses, lingering, complex, slow feeding from each other’s mouths.  “I know, but…mmm…”  While JC’s hands clutched Nick closer, Nick’s fingers admired JC’s cheekbones and temples and ears.  “I miss looking at you.  I miss…”

            Slow, deeper kisses, and when Nick moaned, JC ground against him, hard and aching and wanting him to know it.  Nick groaned in response, grinding back, their bodies moving together in needful rhythm.

            “It’s been forever,” Nick murmured, kissing him, tongue caressing against his as Nick’s hands slipped beneath his shirt.  “You feel so good.”  Hot kisses sizzled down his neck as Nick’s thumbs teased his tight nipples.  “So good, baby.”

            The desire in Nick’s voice made JC push him back against the wall by the door, straddling his thigh, kissing him possessively, demandingly.  Nick’s hair was soft against his fingers; Nick’s kiss held him captive and spun his world.  When he opened his eyes, he was the one backed against the wall; his shirt was on the floor, his jeans were open, and Nick was nibbling gently at his lower lip, making him groan, making him ache.

            Panting, JC whispered Nick’s name as Nick kissed him again, again, fingers dipping inside his boxer-briefs to stroke the lines of his pelvis, fire flaring hot in the wake of Nick’s touch.  Moaning, he undulated, offering himself to Nick’s hands.

            Nick’s voice was soft with promise and thick with sex.  “Tell me what you need, baby.”  His caresses enflamed JC’s writhing body.  “Tell me what I can do for you.”

            He needed Nick, he needed sex, he needed, he needed.  Words failed him, but his hand knew just where to go.  God, there, yes.  The feel of Nick’s stiffening arousal made JC weak and hot and hungry; he wanted to be naked and on his back and opened and fucked.  His kiss turned aggressive as he worked Nick’s fly with practiced moves.  When Nick’s erection sprang free, his fingers circled the slippery cockhead, stroking slick pre-cum down the shaft.  Nick’s long, thick, gorgeously veined erection pulsed deliciously in his hand, and he pumped it gently, jacking it in slow, easy, admiring rhythm.

            Groaning, Nick whispered his name.

            The phone rang in Justin’s room.
            Joey loved going out to clubs, loved being there with the guys, loved being there with women, loved having a good time.  But there was nothing like going out with AJ.

            They found girl number one in the first club they went to.  They got her off in the bathroom.  She went down on AJ, and Joey went down on her.  She offered to do him, too, but he declined.  She went back to her friends; AJ and Joey drank, and danced, and tried another club.  Girl number two, they got off on the dance floor, sandwiching her between their gyrating bodies.  AJ got her going, and Joey liked the way she bit her lip and ground her hips against AJ’s hand; AJ gave him a certain sly look, and he slid his fingers in as AJ’s fingers slid out, and he finished her, and he was rock-hard against her when she climaxed.

            AJ licked his own fingers clean, and Joey wanted to kiss him and taste her.

            On their way to the third club, AJ felt him up and growled in his ear.  He tried to get a kiss, but AJ chuckled at him and squeezed his dick and got out of the car.

            It only made Joey want him more.

            They talked about business.  About music.  About the other guys.  About parties and movies and post-tour plans.  They made out for a while, and talked some more, and made out again, and talked.  Then they were kissing, and then they were making love, and their bodies fit together perfectly, and the way Howie moved against him made Lance thrust faster.
            Laughing, Chris and Brian staggered into the room.  Paint in their hair, sand in their clothes, water in their shoes, confetti in their pockets, they bounced around the room, wrestled across the bed, and finally collapsed on the sofa.

            Panting dramatically, Chris flopped over Brian.  “I’m exhausted.  Order me something to eat.”

            “I think room service is closed by now,” Brian said.

            “Then run to the store and fetch me something.”

            Brian laughed.  “Fetch you something?  I’m not your personal assistant.”

            “If you were, your name would be Eva and you’d have legs up to here,” Chris said gesturing.

            “Then get Eva to fetch you something,” Brian said.  He sighed, resting a hand on Chris’s stomach.  “We should’ve gotten burgers on the way back.”

            “Someone was busy playing in the fountain,” Chris reminded him.  Brian’s hand was on his stomach.  That was okay, though.  They’d been wrestling around all evening.  Besides, Brian liked to touch things, liked to touch him.  It was okay.  It was normal, it was Brian.

            “That was you!” Brian objected, laughing.

            “You were in there, too,” Chris said.  It was good to be with Brian, to hang out again, even for just tonight.  They were having a good time, without complications, without awkward moments.  If he moved away from Brian now, it would be weird, and Brian would know why, and it would fuck up everything, the way it always did, lately.  He’d feel like shit if he hurt Brian’s feelings, and he’d hate himself if he acted like it wasn’t cool for Brian to touch him, because that wasn’t it, it wasn’t like that.

            Brian smiled.  “Someone had to go in to fish you out.”

            “You’re a fisherman now?” Chris asked.  “So go catch me something to eat.”  But Brian’s hand was still on him, on his stomach, fingers starting to stroke a little, petting a little, and it was such an odd place, his stomach, easy to misinterpret.  Maybe he could just move away naturally, make it seem normal, like it wasn’t a reaction.

            “We’re back to fetching you food?” Brian asked.

            “Yes, we are.”  Chris rolled off of Brian, down to the floor.  “Ow.”

            “Hurt anything?” Brian asked, planting his feet on Chris’s thighs.

            “Yes, but it wasn’t a sex organ, so I’ll get over it.”  Relief soothed him; see, it had been nothing, an innocent touch, just friends, just Brian, not…not anything else.  Chris emptied his pockets onto the floor, spilling confetti.  “Call room service for me.”  He couldn’t get paranoid, he couldn’t assume that everything was suddenly sexualized just because Brian was attracted to him.  They were friends, Brian was his friend, he couldn’t start acting like an ass and fucking up what they had left.

            “They’re closed,” Brian said.

            “Call the concierge.”

            “He’s gone by now.”

            “I’m a star, damn it, and I demand to be treated like one.  There has to be someone around here at my beck and call.  I’m hungry.”

            Brian moved his feet off of Chris and leaned forward, smiling down at him.  “Chris, would you like me to take you to get something to eat?”

            Chris grinned up at him.  “I thought you’d never ask.”

            Joey tried to play it cool.  He sat in the booth and drank and flirted for a while, and then he and AJ hit the dance floor.  He danced with a series of hot girls, and he managed to keep his eyes off of AJ at least some of the time.  He didn’t want to look desperate or obvious; that would blow everything.  He had to do it just right.

            Eventually, AJ went back to the booth.  Joey followed him there, sliding in with him, taking a long drink.  It was time to go for it.  He knew what he wanted.  He’d had it before, and he needed to have it again.  Tonight.

            “What do you think?”  AJ’s voice was low in his ear; AJ’s hand slid over his thigh under the table, rubbing, squeezing.  “The one with the white skirt, or the one with the cleavage?”

            “Neither one of them.”  Joey wanted to take AJ then and there, in the booth, on the table, under the table, anywhere, everywhere.  It was hard to meet AJ’s eyes confidently with sunglasses in the way, but he did his best.  “Let’s get out of here.”

            “Another club?” AJ asked.  “White skirt not good enough for you?”

            “Back to the hotel,” Joey said.  “Your room, my room, it’s up to you.”

            AJ licked his lips and Joey’s dick throbbed.  “You said you wanted two out, one back.”

            “I know.”  He needed to kiss AJ.  He needed to claim AJ’s mouth and possess AJ’s body and feel AJ overtake every sense he had.  “You’re the one.”

            AJ’s grin was dangerous.  “You’re taking me back?”

            Joey couldn’t appear to need it too much.  “You up for it?”

            AJ leaned closer, lips against his ear, hand closing firmly over his package, making him jerk and groan and tense.  “I’m up for anything.”

            Sweat trickling down his body, tears slipping down his cheeks, Justin whimpered, begging for more.
            Joey took a cab back to the hotel while AJ took the car and driver.  If they’d left the club together, they wouldn’t have reached the hotel without scandalizing the driver and probably causing an accident or ending up in a tabloid.

            Stepping into the hotel lobby, Joey saw AJ getting onto the elevator.  Knowing better than to get in that elevator with him, Joey waited for the next one, jabbing at the button impatiently, nerves alive and humming.

            The memories flashing across the back of his brain burned down through his body.  AJ flexing, arching, biting, clawing, sweating, twisting, thrusting, demanding.  No one took as much as AJ.  No one gave as much as AJ.  Joey couldn’t get through a fantasy anymore without AJ getting tangled up in it.

            When the elevator arrived for him, he got in and paced the small area, unwilling to stand still, clenching and unclenching his fists as he did his best not to masturbate or undress.

            He went up to AJ’s room.  The door opened before he could knock; in seconds he had AJ pinned to the wall, and he and AJ were fighting each other’s clothes off, kissing aggressively, grunting and humping and grabbing and coming on each other.  They staggered towards the bed, discarding clothes along the way; the bed was too far, and they fell to the floor, taking each other roughly, forcefully, passionately.

            Lance chuckled.  “You’re not serious.”

            “Ask Brian,” Howie said.  “Or, ask Chris.  His version should be pretty interesting.”

            “Probably.”  Lance stroked the smoothness of Howie’s back, the curve of Howie’s ass.  A faint noise attracted his attention.  “Did you hear that?”

            “Mmm.  Hear what?”  Howie’s thumb rubbed very gently over his voice box.

            “Nothing.”  Wait, there it was again.  “Whose room is that?”

            “Which one?”  Howie glanced around as if to orient himself and remember.  “Kevin’s, I think.”

            Hmm.  Lance kissed Howie’s cheek, stroking the softness of Howie’s goatee.  “I’m glad you’re here,” he confessed quietly.

            “I’ve really missed you,” Howie said, fingers feathering through his hair.  “It’s harder and harder to be separated.”

            “It’s not forever.”  It just felt like it.  But they’d work it out.  He knew that they could.

            Howie was caressing his voice box again.  Lance tilted his chin back a little.  “Maybe we could meet in Seattle.”

            Lance’s brow contracted slightly.  “You said - - we can’t, there won’t be enough time, you’d be in the air for-”

            “It’s a chance to be together.”  Howie’s hand slid down his chest.  “That’s more important.”

            He wanted it, but he hadn’t wanted to push Howie into it.  “If you’re sure, I’d love it.  I’d love to see you.”

            “I already can’t wait to be with you again.”  Howie’s kiss made prickles of electricity race down his spine and out along his limbs.  Howie’s hands slid across his chest, and he rolled onto his back, pulling Howie over himself, sweeping back the fall of Howie’s hair.

            They kissed slowly, rocking together lazily, and Lance didn’t really intend to take it anywhere, but he couldn’t resist turning Howie on just to hear those sexy, aroused moans.

            Eventually they rolled over again, which had been inevitable, because Howie loved being under him.  He kissed Howie’s neck, admiring the smoothness with his lips, delicately lapping up sweat.  Howie ground up against him a little with a soft groan, then relaxed, hands smoothing over his shoulders.

            He kissed up under Howie’s jaw, licking his way to the soft curve of an ear.

            Howie’s short nails ran idly down his back.  “Mmm.”  Howie shifted easily beneath him.  “I didn’t tell you who we ran into backstage tonight.”

            “Yeah?”  He kissed Howie’s cheek and rolled onto his side.  Howie rolled to face him, sliding in close, fingers stroking down his arm.  And then they were talking again, and he paid attention to every word from Howie’s mouth, he truly did, but he also paid attention to Howie’s warmth and nearness, and Howie’s wandering caresses, and Howie’s smiles, and Howie’s eyes, and how incredible it felt to be together again.

            In the car on the way back to the hotel, some of Chris’s energy faded as the exhaustion of the day caught up with him.  Brian offered to let him rest, but he wasn’t ready to part ways yet.  They didn’t see enough of each other as it was.

            Still, once in his room, Chris couldn’t resist stretching out on the bed for a minute.  Brian sat beside him, and they talked, really talked, about good things and bad things and funny things and frustrating things.  Sleep tugged at Chris, closing his eyes, slurring his voice.  He began to succumb, begin to drift off.  Then he felt Brian’s touch at his temple, in his hair.

            He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut, wishing Brian hadn’t done that.

            “Chris.”  Softly, a whisper.  Hesitant.  Uncertain.

            He could pretend to be asleep, but Brian knew better.  He could pretend that he hadn’t heard, but Brian knew better.  He could pretend that he didn’t know what Brian was asking him, but that wasn’t possible anymore.

            Silence.  Brian caressed his hair gently; Brian’s touch strayed across his cheek, to his eyebrow, to the corner of his mouth.

            He loved Brian, but he couldn’t do it.  It killed him every time Brian asked.  It killed him every time he said yes, every time he said no.

            Brian’s fingers lifted.  “Good night,” he said softly, and he placed one tender kiss on Chris’s cheek.  A moment passed.  The door opened, then closed.

            Chris rolled over, opening his eyes.  Alone in the room, he stared at nothing.

            “I wrote something.”

            “A song?” JC asked, intrigued.  “Can I see it?”

            “It’s in my pocket.”  Nick grinned.  “I can get it if you let me up.”

            Oh.  Forcing his hand away from the softness of Nick’s hair, JC crawled off of him, untangling their limbs.  “I’ve barely had time to write.  When I do, everything I start turns into sex.  I don’t know what my problem is.”  That was a lie.  He knew exactly what his problem was.  And, watching Nick cross the room naked, he found it hard not to crawl off of the bed after him to twine around Nick’s ankles and climb those long legs and, god, “I think I’m drooling,” he muttered, wiping at his mouth.

            Crouching down, Nick scratched a hand through his hair before searching through his jeans pockets.  “I figured that’s what it’s like being you.”

            “What?”

            Grinning at him, Nick found the paper and rose, coming back to the bed.  “Even when you’re the only one in bed, you’re so hot, you make yourself drool.”  Handing him the paper, Nick stretched out comfortably beside him.  “It’s not finished, and it totally sucks, so don’t get excited.”

            Unfolding the paper from its small square, JC said, “I’m always excited.  When have I ever not liked something you’ve written?”

            “Oh, what, now you don’t remember?” Nick asked, gathering him closer.

            Allowing himself to be drawn in, JC laughed.  “Raunchy limericks about my ass don’t count.”

            “That was some of my best work,” Nick argued, rolling him onto his stomach, covering him.  “Besides,” Nick kissed the back of his neck, “you have a great ass.”

            “Thank you.”  Pushing himself up onto his elbows, JC read Nick’s lyrics.  They were scribbled across a sheet of paper, with lines crossed out, arrows and question marks dotting the stanzas, but he was used to that and followed it easily.  While Nick kissed down his back and stroked his skin, he read it again, cementing it in his mind.  “This is really good.”

            “You like it?” Nick asked, crawling back up.

            “Yeah, it’s great.  Especially the first two verses, they’re great.  The third one needs a little bit of work, but the chorus, I love it, I love the way you rhymed it without rhyming it.”  Squirming around, JC rolled onto his back beneath Nick, looking up at him.  “What’s the melody, what’s it going to sound like?”

            “I don’t know, you know, something like,” and Nick did a little bit of it for him, breaking off with a self-conscious shrug.  “AJ likes it, but I don’t know…”

            “I like that, it’s good, I like the up and down in the middle breaking up the lines.  What if you do an echo of that in the chorus?”

            “What do you mean, like,” and Nick tried it.

            “Yeah, yeah, just like that, but kind of,” and JC demonstrated what he meant.

            “Wouldn’t that be better at the end?”

            AJ slept close, heavy and hot and sweaty draped against him, an arm slung around his neck.  Joey loved it.  AJ’s sunglasses were on the floor along with the rest of their clothes, and Joey stroked the lush fringe of his lashes.  There was something exotic about AJ’s eyes.  Joey could’ve gazed into them for hours.

            Not really.  It wasn’t like he was in love, or anything.  But AJ did have gorgeous eyes.

            Now that everything was still and quiet, his memories of sex were a blur.  He remembered pawing AJ’s leather pants off.  He remembered chewing on them first.  He remembered pushing AJ back against the wall and pulling off AJ’s bandanna, running his fingers through AJ’s hair.  He’d pulled on it a little.  AJ had liked that, had jerked his fly open and growled at him.  AJ growling was a huge turn-on, and the more often it happened, the better Joey’s day got.

            Since the last time this had happened, he’d looked around at other guys.  He’d flirted with a few and tried to imagine himself in bed with them, but it hadn’t worked.  It hadn’t done a thing for him.  He wasn’t into guys, and he couldn’t make himself be.

            But he was really into AJ.  He wanted AJ, and he couldn’t turn that off.  It was just there, in him, like an idling engine that started revving every time AJ was around and roared to life when AJ got too close.  He couldn’t get near AJ without picturing clothes coming off.

            He didn’t know what AJ thought about it.  AJ didn’t seem particularly concerned about it, but they didn’t really talk about it, either.  Joey didn’t want to talk about it.  He just wanted to keep doing it, and keep pretending that it wasn’t important.  Maybe it was just a phase.

            It wasn’t like it meant anything.

            It wasn’t like it was a permanent condition.

            It wasn’t like he’d always need AJ like this.

            Justin wiped cum from his lips with trembling fingers.

            Kevin smiled darkly.

            Brian opened his door at the knock.  He only had his underwear on, and his hair was mussed, and Chris ignored his surprise, pushing on into the room.  “I can’t sleep.”

            “I see,” Brian said, closing the door.  “Thanks for waking me up so I could share the experience.”

            “Can I borrow half of your bed?”  He was overcompensating, he knew that, it was obvious, it was ridiculous, but he had to.  He couldn’t let Brian feel rejected, he couldn’t make Brian think that this was coming between them.  It was coming between them, it had infected every aspect of their friendship, but Chris refused to let it win.  Not yet.

            “I don’t take up much room,” Brian admitted.  “I could probably spare half.”

            “Good.”  Without further ado, Chris got into bed.  He’d slept with Brian before, in the same bed, and it wasn’t different now, it wouldn’t be, he couldn’t let it be.  They were friends, god damn it.

            Turning off the light, Brian got in beside him.

            Chris rummaged around, getting comfortable.  He was comfortable with Brian, it was good and right and natural to be with Brian.  That was the stupidest part of it all.  He fit with Brian, he felt good around Brian, he loved Brian.  They were great together.

            “I said half of the bed, not all of the covers,” Brian said, tugging.

            “I’m your guest, you should be more generous,” Chris argued, tugging back.

            “If you want more blankets, go back to your own bed.”

            “Stop kicking me!” Chris exclaimed, offended.

            “I’m not kicking you, you’re - - stop it!” Brian objected, laughing, yanking the covers to his side of the bed.

            “Stingy miser Scrooge,” Chris muttered, curling up on his side.

            “Oh, poor baby,” Brian said, tucking himself in warmly.  “Night.”

            Chris sulked.  “Now I’m cold.”

            Sighing, Brian draped a blanket over Chris.  “Is that better?”

            “A little.”

            “Aw, are you pouting?” Brian asked, nudging his chin up.  “Are you sad, Chris?  Are you sad that I’m using my own blankets in my own bed?”

            “Friends should share,” Chris said.  He was going to do it, he would, for Brian’s sake.  Because not doing it wasn’t working, wasn’t making either one of them happy, so at least maybe doing it would make Brian happy.

            In silence, Brian stroked Chris’s chin.  After a moment, he asked, quietly, “What do you want, Chris?”

            Chris met his eyes.  “You can do it, but you can only do it once.  I can’t take it today and tomorrow, so if you do it tonight, don’t ask me again.”

            “I wouldn’t have,” Brian said, withdrawing his hand.  His voice sounded very sad and lonely.

            “Last time-”

            “Last time I was weak,” Brian whispered.  “Last time you were…  You needed something I could give.”

            “I can get that anywhere,” Chris said.  He was tense, and it was audible in his tone.  “What I need from you is your friendship.  Not that.”

            “I know.”  Brian sounded close to breaking.  “I’m sorry.”

            “I told you not to apologize.”  His breathing was strained.  “Don’t ever tell me that you’re sorry for…for anything.  It’s not your fault.”

            “It’s not yours, either,” Brian whispered.

            Chris closed his eyes.  “Just do it.”

            “Chris.”  Brian was miserable.  “I can’t, not if…  I know you don’t…”

            His voice came out through clenched teeth.  “Just do it.”

            When Brian’s hand slid over Chris’s arm, Chris flinched.  Brian’s voice was gentle, sadness leaking in around the edges.  “Just sleep with me.  That’s what I want.  Just be here with me.”

            “That’s not what you want.”  His eyes opened; he slid closer, wrapping his arm around Brian’s waist, holding Brian close.  “That’s not what you want.  I hate myself for not being able to give you what you want.”

            “I can’t give you what you want, either,” Brian whispered, winding an arm around Chris’s shoulders.  “I love you too much.  I can’t just be your friend, Chris, I wish that I could.”

            “I know.”  He rubbed Brian’s back.

            Brian stayed close.

            Well, he wasn’t going to walk out, so he was here for the night.  “How do you want to do this?” Chris asked.  “Do you want to spoon?”

            The sun rose.

            Justin wakened, but he decided not to move.  Kevin had been…in a strange mood last night, and he didn’t want to piss Kevin off first thing in the morning by doing the wrong thing.  So he stayed right where he was, on his back, half-tucked in under Kevin’s side.

            Kevin’s shoulder was right in front of his face.  It was a firm, well-shaped, muscular shoulder.  Kevin had great shoulders, long limbs, a confident build.  Justin wanted to pet his shoulder, but decided against it.  That might disturb Kevin’s rest.

            Shifting.  Movement.  Kevin pushed himself up slightly, muscle in motion, then looked at Justin.  Kevin’s features were so strong, so sharp, and his eyebrows were so menacing, that he was capable of looking pretty damned unpleasant.  Justin tried to breathe normally.

            Kevin’s hand cupped his cheek.  Instinctively parting his lips, Justin stayed silent.  Kevin’s thumb brushed over his lips; Kevin’s fingers caressed around his mouth.

            He’d sucked on Kevin’s fingers last night.  Sucked on Kevin’s dick.  Red from memory, Justin wondered what Kevin was thinking about.  He couldn’t read Kevin’s expression.

            “This must interfere with your pretty boy image,” Kevin said, stroking around his mouth again.

            Stubble.  That was what Kevin was interested in?  “It’s not that thick yet.”  He shaved every day, but he wasn’t as whiskery as some of the other guys.

            He wasn’t as old as Kevin was, and Kevin kept finding ways to remind him.  Not that he needed the reminders.  But the difference in their ages was oddly intriguing.  Justin was nineteen, and his body had begun to mature early, but Kevin was a man.  Kevin’s body wasn’t just masculine, it was adult.  Justin found that subtly thrilling.

            “You were a good boy last night,” Kevin said, the backs of his fingers stroking up and down Justin’s neck.

            Shame washed heat over Justin’s cheeks.  Unable to meet Kevin’s eyes, he dropped his gaze to Kevin’s chest.

            “Does it hurt?”

            He didn’t want to answer that question.  His “yes” came out weak and strained.

            “Then I won’t fuck you too hard today.”  Kevin’s hand slid down the side of his body, down to his knee and back up.  His breath caught as Kevin thumbed his nipple.  “Get in the shower.  I’ll order room service.”

            He wanted to be alone, and at least the shower would offer a moment’s privacy.  But he felt a strong compulsion to be with Kevin, to stay close.  “You could,” he tried to smile, “come with me.”

            Kevin smiled.

            JC got up uncharacteristically early.  After lingering for a moment in Nick’s embrace, he made himself leave the bed.  He tidied up the room a little, gathering the papers and pens they’d scattered last night.  Then he ordered room service.  Then he sat on the bed and watched Nick sleep.  He found himself drawn in closer, closer; his fingers slid through Nick’s hair of their own accord, finding luxury in the soft blond strands.  He wanted to slide back in against Nick’s body again, wanted to press himself to each gorgeous inch.

            He liked what Nick had written, what they’d worked on last night.  Nick had worked with a lot of different writers and producers, and had picked up on a lot of ideas.  JC loved talking with him about music, loved teasing a song out of him.  There was so much in Nick that JC wanted to draw out and pull on and see more of.  He was still maturing so much, as a person, as an artist, as a man, and JC couldn’t wait to see each step and every change.

            He’d never loved anyone like this.  He’d never felt this compelled to commit to someone.  He felt like he’d already committed himself to Nick and was still catching up with that promise.

            Friends, yes, he had fantastic friends that he’d known right from the start he never wanted to lose.  He looked into his future and still saw them there; he looked into their futures and wanted to remain a part.

            But Nick…  With Nick, everything was different.  Nick was like a whole other life he’d never imagined that he could have.  He’d never even imagined that he’d want it.  But here it was, and he wanted to jump right in with both feet and immerse himself and stay forever.  He couldn’t imagine a future without Nick.  He didn’t want a future without Nick.

            He’d always thought that music was his future, his life, his passion.  And it was; that was an unchangeable fundamental.  But Nick was, somehow, stronger than all of that.  Nick overshadowed everything.  Nick dwarfed everything that he’d thought he understood about himself.

            They got ready half in Brian’s room and half in Chris’s, splashing around in each other’s bathrooms, rummaging through each other’s suitcases.  They went down to the dining room for breakfast.  Brian ate Chris’s toast, and Chris made up new games with the grapes.
            Grunting, wincing against the light, AJ dragged the covers over his head, winding himself more tightly around Joey.
            Lance was up first, showering and making a few calls.  Then Howie got up.  They kissed, and while Howie was in the shower, Lance ordered breakfast.  They had breakfast, and they talked, and everything was nice and civilized.

            Lance couldn’t take it.  He tried to handle everything discreetly, he tried to keep his constant agony and need and anxiety private, he tried not to overreact.  But he needed Howie, and not being with Howie was daily agony, and if this was his rare time with Howie then he wasn’t going to waste it drinking coffee.

            He did his best to be the normal one in the clown car, and Howie was genuinely a very nice person, so their relationship wasn’t fraught with drama.  They didn’t have violent scenes or bitter fights or tearful battles.  But sex with Howie was the most passionate sex of Lance’s life.  He’d always been sure that he did a damned fine job, but Howie made him feel confident, powerful, masterful.

            Not entirely civilized.

            Lance got Howie on the bed first, then stripped him, laying him bare.  He loved the warmth of Howie’s skin tone, the strength in Howie’s body, the instinctive roll of Howie’s hips.  Howie shifted from one sexual pose to the next like he was on display.

            Arousing him was a delicious challenge.  Lance had taken care to learn the tricks.  Driving Howie to new heights and triggering orgasm just the right way at just the right moment was an immense pleasure in and of itself.  This morning, Lance didn’t even bother to undress, just used his hands, his mouth, and his extensive knowledge of Howie’s body.  He brought Howie to climax quickly, then backed up and took a more scenic route, slowly building the tension, slowly driving Howie mad.

            By the time Howie was breathlessly begging, clawing at him, and couldn’t speak without moaning, he figured that he’d drawn it out long enough.  Licking sweat from Howie’s abs, he gently pushed his finger back into Howie’s hot, tightly clenching ass, his own dick pulsing at the sound of Howie’s furiously overstimulated groan.  Leaning over Howie, hovering close but not making any more body contact, he whispered in Howie’s ear as he stroked Howie’s prostate.  While Howie gripped his shoulders and tried to rip his shirt off and writhed desperately beneath him, he used the sexiest voice in his arsenal as he caressed Howie from the inside.

            Bucking, clawing, sweating, crying out, Howie came, shuddering violently, calling his name.

            Easing him through it, Lance whispered calming things, kissing his cheeks, smoothing his hair back.

            Still shivering, breathing heavily, Howie kissed him, latching onto his mouth, tugging open his fly.

            “Are you sure you don’t want a break?” Lance asked, extremely hard but trying to be generous and considerate.

            “Do you want me?” Howie asked, pushing his jeans down his hips.

            “Every second,” Lance said immediately, before he could think about it.

            Breathless laughter.  “Do you want to fuck me?” Howie asked, peeling his underwear down.

            “Yes.”  There weren’t enough words to emphasize how much.  Although maybe the way his dick was leaking all over Howie’s hand was a good clue.

            Howie’s kiss was passionate and inviting and claiming, and it left Lance without two brain cells to rub together.  “Then I don’t want a break.”

            JC rolled the room service cart over to the table, then sat beside Nick on the bed again.  “Nick,” he whispered, petting Nick’s hair.  “It’s time for breakfast.”  He let his fingers adore the long arches of Nick’s eyebrows, the gentle curves of Nick’s nose.  “Nick.”  Leaning in, he let his lips touch Nick’s for a moment.  “Nick.”

            “Baby,” Nick murmured, without opening his eyes.

            “There’s breakfast,” JC said.

            “Mmm.”  Nick made no attempt to move.

            Given the opportunity, JC indulged himself.  Running his fingers through Nick’s hair, he kissed Nick’s forehead, Nick’s eyelids, Nick’s mouth.  “I love you,” he whispered.  “I don’t say it often enough because I’m scared I won’t be able to stop, but I love you.”

            “JC,” Nick said, and his eyes opened as his hand rose to the side of JC’s face.  “Baby, you know I love you.  You think you’re scared, you’re so beautiful and so sexy and so way too good for me, you have me terrified.  You’re amazing, baby, I love you so much I don’t know what the hell’s happening to me.”

            Swallowing against the pounding of his heart, JC embraced Nick, hugging him tightly.  “You make me feel like everything’s new, like everything’s different, like I’m standing on the edge of the world.”  He combed his fingers through Nick’s hair and choked back nervous laughter.  “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

            “Be mine,” Nick whispered.  “It freaks me the fuck out, how much I want you to be mine.”

            It was done.  “I’m yours,” he whispered back, falling off of the edge of the world.  “I’ve always been yours.  I’ll always be yours.”

            “Do we have time to go to the store?” Chris asked, checking his watch, reaching over and checking Brian’s watch.  “I don’t like the socks they’ve been giving me, I want to get some new socks.  I like your socks, what kind are these?” he asked, scrunching his toes.  God, he sounded even more manic than usual.

            “Chris,” Brian said, pushing him down to sit on the foot of the bed.  “You’re going to have to calm down.”

            “I’m calm,” Chris argued, trying to get up again.  Like he could get away with that with Brian, like Brian didn’t know him better than that.

            Brian pushed him back down, crouching down in front of him.  “You’ve been running at ninety miles an hour all morning and you were doing at least one twenty last night.  It’s okay.  Just breathe for me.  Slowly.”

            “I’m fine, I’m calm,” Chris said.  “I’m fine.”  He didn’t want to talk about it.  He didn’t want to deal with it.  There was no good way to deal with it, nothing to do, no way to fix it.  He frowned at Brian and breathed.  “Are we finished?  I need socks.”

            “You have socks.”

            Yes, he’d been manic, panic was making him crazy, but, “Haven’t you been having a good time?” he asked.  “I’ve been having a great time.  Aren’t you having a good time?  You had a good time last night, with the paintball and-”

            “I always have a good time with you,” Brian said.  “But we don’t have to have this much fun every second of the day.”

            “I want to have as much fun with you as I can,” Chris said.  “While I can, while we’re still friends, before everything’s ruined.”

            “Chris,” Brian said, dismayed.  “We’ll always be friends.  I know that things have been hard on both of us, but that’ll work out.  We won’t stop being friends.”

            “We can’t keep doing this,” Chris insisted, anger in his voice, pain flashing across his face.  “We’re hurting each other, we can’t keep hurting each other like this, it’s killing me and I know it’s killing you.”

            “It’ll get better,” Brian said helplessly.  “It’ll-”

            “How?” Chris demanded.  “How can it get better?  We’re stuck like this, and it’s only getting worse.”

            “I don’t know.”  Brian looked miserable.  “I don’t know.”

            Chris sighed.  “Get up, come on, sit over here, it’s freaking me out to have you kneeling down there like, you know.”

            “Sorry.”  Dusting off his knees, Brian got up and sat beside Chris at the foot of the bed.

            “Something has to change,” Chris said quietly.  “You have to find someone else to get interested in.”

            “That would help,” Brian admitted.  “I’ve tried, I’ve talked to people, I’ve flirted with people, I’ve - - but it just doesn’t work like that.”

            “There are tons of great people out there,” Chris said.  “You don’t want me.  I’m annoying, I never have any time for you, I have no muscle tone, and every time one of us has a great career moment, the other one of us is going to have a hard time being proud and congratulatory through the resentment.”

            “If you’d stop doing well, we wouldn’t have that problem,” Brian said.

            “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to kick your ass,” Chris said with a grin.

            “Don’t worry about it,” Brian said casually.  “We won’t hold it against you.”

            He was still wet, he was even still soapy in places.  On his stomach, with one knee under him, Justin squirmed, writhing away and then closer and then away again.  Kevin smacked his ass and told him to hold still, and he tried, he really tried, but he just couldn’t, he couldn’t.  Kevin held him open, licking, Kevin’s tongue fucking him in rough-soft wet strokes.

            Pushing one hand down, Justin grabbed his own dick, tugging at it, trying to get the ache and the need and the fever out.  Pressing his fist to his mouth, he tried to muffle the shameful whimpers and moans.

            “Champagne for breakfast,” Nick said with a grin, taking the flute from JC and sprawling lazily on the sofa.  “Whatever happened to milk and Pop-Tarts?”

            “You can have those for lunch.”  JC sat beside him, tearing off a piece of croissant.  “You know I can’t stand watching you drink milk.”

            “That’s because you’re a pervert,” Nick said, taking a croissant from the plate.

            “You make the most wholesome activities into unbearably erotic displays,” JC said.

            “No, your perverted brain does that.”  Nick chewed.  “I’m just drinking milk.”

            JC finished his croissant and ate a strawberry.

            “Hey.”  Nick drank champagne.  “What are you wearing under that robe?”

            “Nothing,” he said, picking up another strawberry.  “It’s a robe.”

            A fiendish grin spread across Nick’s face.  “You’re naked?”

            “I’m not naked, I have a robe on,” he said, leaning forward to brush crumbs from Nick’s lips.  “You’re the messiest eater I know,” he murmured, to distract himself from the sensuous curves of Nick’s mouth.

            “Second,” Nick corrected him, tugging gently on the belt to his robe.

            “Second,” he agreed vaguely, gazing at the edible pink of Nick’s lips.

            “Baby,” Nick whispered, fingers sliding up the lapels of his robe.  JC couldn’t imagine backing up.  “Baby.”  Nick’s touch skimmed his jaw.  “Do you want to kiss me?”

            Of course he did.  It was Nick.  There was no one in the world JC wanted to kiss more than Nick.

            JC spent all of his time loving Nick.  Singing and loving Nick, talking and loving Nick, eating and loving Nick, dancing and loving Nick, tying his shoes and loving Nick.  Not loving Nick would be like not breathing.  Not living.

            Nick’s fingers slipped around the curve of his ear, making him shiver; Nick’s fingers slid through his hair, and he was guided forward.  Lowering his lashes, he parted his lips, bracing one hand on Nick’s shoulder while his heart pounded in his chest.

            The gentle pressure of Nick’s lips made him float.  The sleek caress of Nick’s tongue made him moan.  The moment, the kiss, was so perfect that he didn’t want to move, but Nick pulled him in, hands on the backs of his thighs urging him forward, closer, until they were body to body and he could feel Nick’s heat.

            Falling easily into the perfect rhythm of Nick’s kiss, across Nick’s lap, JC ran his hands down Nick’s sides, tugging Nick’s shirt up, wanting nothing separating flesh from flesh.  Nick tugged the knot on his belt loose, and he ground against Nick, pushing his fingers beneath the waistband of Nick’s underwear, making encouraging noises.  The feel of Nick’s hands sliding beneath his robe, stroking his body, claiming him, made JC groan, sucking hungrily at Nick’s kiss, heat and anticipation-

            A quick flurry of knocks at the door.  “Room service!” Chris called.

            No, no, no.  Refusing to leave Nick’s kiss, JC gripped Nick’s shirt in both hands, leaning back until he was horizontal on the couch, Nick moving with him, over him.  The wet heat of Nick’s mouth making love to his neck made JC moan with rich pleasure as knowing fingers caressed between his legs, stroking just inside his thigh, rubbing alongside his balls.

            Knock knock knock knock knock!  “Are you in there?!”

            “We should get that,” Nick murmured, as JC groaned and arched, hips rising, toes curling, muscles flexing.  “It could be important.”

            It’s Chris, JC wanted to say, it’s never important, but all that came out was a breathy, need-filled moan as Nick stroked across his perineum and rubbed his asshole, massaging it gently, promising new heights of ecstasy.  Groaning, JC pushed his knee up between Nick’s thighs, one hand cupping Nick’s chin to bring Nick to his mouth for a kiss as-

            Chris was knocking on the door in unceasing rhythm.

            “Okay, we’re coming!” Nick called, and began to rise.

            “Don’t you dare,” JC protested, grabbing at him.

            “He’s never going to go away,” Nick said.  “If we let him in, he’ll come in and get bored and leave.”  His gaze flashed hungrily down JC’s splayed, exposed body; JC could almost taste his lust.  “He’d better get out fast.”

            JC and Nick took forever answering the door.  Brian kept trying to get him to leave them alone, but where else was he going to go?  Lance had already told him to get lost.

            He loved spending time with Brian, but spending time with Brian alone led to problems and awkwardness, so he’d decided to spend time with Brian around other people.  Which meant bothering their friends, but they’d get over it.

            When JC finally got around to opening the door, Chris gave him a bright smile and a hearty, “Good morning!”

            “Good morning,” Nick said.  He was barefoot in jeans and a T-shirt, on the sofa, eating strawberries.  JC was in a robe, still standing by the door, giving Chris “get out!” looks behind Brian’s back.

            “Breakfast!” Chris exclaimed, plopping down beside Nick on the couch.  “I love croissants.  You want one?” he asked Brian.

            “We already ate,” Brian said.

            “Are those good?” he asked Nick, as Nick picked up another strawberry.  “They look very,” he watched pink lips part as even, white teeth bit into the red fruit, “ripe.”  He found himself licking his own lips as Nick’s tongue flickered out.  “Wow, someone should be taking pictures of this.”

            “Shut up,” JC said, sounding pained.

            “Think I’ll stick to the croissants,” Chris decided, taking one.  “So, we were - - what’s that?” he asked, as Nick took a drink.

            “Champagne,” Nick said.

            “Mm-hmm,” he said, chewing.  “And how old are you?”

            Nick grinned at him.  “Twenty.”

            “I think I’ll take that from you, thank you,” Chris said, reaching past Nick and picking up the bottle.  “JC, you’re contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”

            “He’s not a minor,” JC said.  “Get out of my room.”

            “You’re corrupting him,” Chris said, rising.  “You should be ashamed.”

            “Yeah, JC,” Nick said, leaning back, thighs spreading, a smirk on his face.  “Stop corrupting me.”

            “Go,” JC said, like he didn’t know whether to be furious or desperate.  “Go, you can take the champagne with you, just leave.”

            Chris made a big show of hesitating.  “I don’t know.  Maybe-”

            “We have somewhere else to be,” Brian said, a hand on Chris’s elbow steering him towards the door.  “It was good to see you, JC.”

            “We could stay,” Chris offered, digging his heels in.  “Have breakfast, play cards, I-”

            “Bye,” Brian said, shoving and dragging him to the hallway.

            The door closed loudly behind them.

            “Rude,” Chris muttered.

            “Stop harassing your friends,” Brian said.

            “Okay.”  That was fair.  “We’ll harass your friends.  Where’s Kevin’s room?”

            “I think that Kevin,” Brian’s hand caught his elbow and drew him back, “should be left alone right now.”

            That left, “AJ,” Chris decided.

            “You’re a very brave man,” Brian said.  “I’ll miss you.”

            This was the part of things that Joey didn’t understand.  Didn’t want to understand, because it didn’t fit into his view of anything.

            His friendship with AJ, he understood.  The way they opened up to each other, he understood; the fun they had together, he understood.  Sharing sex partners, he understood.  Even having sex with each other, he’d come to understand, come to accept.  The way he wanted it, the way he needed it, he didn’t want to examine, but on the surface it almost made sense.  AJ was hot, they were both aggressively sexual, and since the way they fucked was almost a fight for dominance, it fit.

            But this part, the after sex part, the part where they were still in bed, talking and petting and quietly, almost discreetly exploring each other, he didn’t get.  There was friendship with AJ, and then there was sex with AJ, but this erotic tenderness didn’t neatly fit into either category.  It seemed to be its own category, or a blend of the other two.

            The constant hum of desire assured him that this was sexual touching.  He wanted AJ.  He wanted to keep touching AJ.  He wanted to make AJ hot again, wanted to make AJ come again.

            AJ’s dark eyes beckoned him.  AJ’s beautifully defined mouth called to him.  The gentle stroking of his beard as they talked sent his fingers skimming down over the ridges of AJ’s abs to, yes.  Lush lashes drifted down as AJ’s hips rolled forward to meet Joey’s touch; AJ stopped talking mid-sentence, making a sweet, dark, purring sound.

            Knock, knock!  “Avon calling!”

            AJ kissed him, purring at him, nipping at him.  “Get me off and I’ll suck you,” was promised softly against Joey’s lips, making his dick jump, as AJ’s nails ran across his neck and down his chest.

            Knock, knock, knock!  “We’re having a sale on lip gloss!  Two for the price of one!  You don’t want to miss out on this deal!”

            An irritated growl; AJ’s eyes flashed.  “Stay here.”

            “I’ll get rid of him,” Joey said, not wanting AJ to leave the bed.

            An undecipherable noise; AJ kissed him once, firmly, then pushed him aside and got up.  Stark naked, flesh and muscle and ink, AJ strode to the door, jerking it open.

            Chris shrieked.

            “Get away from my door,” AJ said.  “And give me that.”

            Chris squeaked.

            The door closed.  AJ turned, coming back to the bed, climbing familiarly onto Joey’s body.  “The Avon lady was kind enough to bring us a present.”  Lifting the champagne bottle to his lips, he took a swig.  “Where were we?”

            Rubbing at his eyes, Chris made quiet sounds of horror.

            “Sorry about the champagne,” Brian said as they walked back into his room.

            Still suffering, Chris sat on the sofa.

            “And I’m sorry that you had to see AJ’s…”  Sitting beside him, Brian gave Chris’s shoulder a sympathetic squeeze.

            A whimper.  “I think it looked at me.”

            Lance loved talking business with Howie.  He admired Howie’s ambition, and he respected Howie’s determination to have a source of income independent of the group.  Their musical careers took all of their time and energy, but Lance understood Howie’s interest in exploring other avenues.  Their groups were their lives, but didn’t have to be their sole defining characteristic.

            While they talked, he wrapped long, silken strands of hair around his fingers.

            JC needed this.  He and Nick were always separated for too long, and he spent too many nights alone, aching, yearning.  Now Nick was with him, over him, driving deep, and he rocked up for each thrust, taking as much as he could, soaking Nick up through every pore.  He had to capture this feeling while he could, had to steal memories to soothe his longing and ease his flesh until he could be with Nick again.
            Kevin wanted him to talk.

            With some uncertainty, Justin talked.  He told Kevin about the tour, how the shows were going, how great the fans were, how embarrassing Chris was in interviews.  He told Kevin about his plans and his mom and his last shopping trip.

            Kevin’s too-focused, too-steady gaze was unnerving, but Justin kept talking.  Resting on top of Kevin’s body, shifting once in a while for a more comfortable position, he let his fingers explore over Kevin’s neck, chest, and shoulders.  Kevin’s hands stroked his back, his ass, and his hair.  He maintained eye contact; every time his gaze slid away, Kevin lightly slapped him, on the ass or the face.

            He didn’t know what Kevin wanted from him.  What he said wasn’t all that fascinating, because since when did Kevin care about Joey’s onstage exploits?  Still, whenever his sentences began to trail off into silence, Kevin would prompt him to continue with a brief question.  So he kept talking.  Kept talking, and kept staring right into the most gorgeous emerald green eyes he’d ever seen.  Kevin’s gaze was direct, unyielding, utterly focused.  And those lashes, long and black and soft-looking.

            He wanted to touch.

            “I guess we’ll have to go, soon,” Chris said, drumming his fingers on the couch’s armrest.

            “I guess so,” Brian agreed.

            Chris made an affirmative noise, fingers tapping.

            “You might be the only one ready in time,” Brian said.  “The other guys seem to be pretty busy.”

            “Getting laid is overrated,” Chris said.

            Brian smiled.  “Maybe you’ve been doing it wrong.”

            Chris sighed.  “Probably.”  Suddenly curling his fingers into a fist, he glanced at Brian.  “We should say good-bye.”

            “We don’t have to,” Brian said.  “We could say, ‘Call me,’ or, ‘See you,’ or-”

            “Do it,” Chris said abruptly.

            “Or, ‘Do it,’” Brian agreed.

            “Do it,” Chris repeated impatiently.  “Do it, get it over with, take what you want.  Just…”  Unable to finish, he looked away.

            Pain crossed Brian’s face.  “It’s not about taking,” he said, his voice thick with sudden emotion.  “It’s not about taking,” he insisted, when Chris didn’t respond.  “I want to give to you, Chris, I want to share with you.”

            “I want to share everything with you!” exploded from Chris as they were suddenly face-to-face again.  “I want to share my whole fucking world with you!  But I can’t do this, I can’t share this!”

            “Then we won’t,” Brian said quietly, glimmers of grief in his eyes as he tried to smile, trembling fingers coming to rest on Chris’s chest.  “I don’t want to take it from you,” he said softly, gently, gazing into Chris’s eyes, his fingers rubbing up to Chris’s shoulder.  “Share with me what you want to share with me.  I love you, Chris.  Your friendship means so much to me.”

            “It’s not enough.”  Sounding angry, Chris glared at Brian.  “I love you but it’s not enough.  You need more than that.”

            “You shouldn’t have to give more than that,” Brian whispered.

            “I should be able to give you anything that you need,” Chris said, guilt and anger and frustration and pain gnawing him inside.

            “I should be less greedy and stop asking you for more,” Brian argued gently.

            “It’s not greedy,” Chris said sharply.  “It’s not greedy to want what you want.  It’s fucking up everything, but it’s not wrong, it’s just…  It’s just something I don’t have,” he said angrily, helplessly.  “I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

            “I know that,” Brian said, sad, frustrated.  “I know, I’m sorry, I-”

            “Don’t say that!” Chris snapped.  “I hate it when you say that!  You don’t have anything to apologize for!  You’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I’m making you miserable!”

            “I’m making you miserable,” Brian argued.  “I couldn’t just let this be, I couldn’t just stop at friends, I had to start wanting more.”

            “I can’t give you more,” Chris said.  “I can’t.  I want to fix this, I want to stop it, but I don’t - - I don’t have that, I don’t know how, I can’t…”  What could he say?  How could he explain?  “I don’t want you.”

            Pain flashed starkly across Brian’s face, but he attempted a brave smile.  “Maybe now would be a good time to say ‘see you later.’”

            Shit.  “It’s not you, it’s me,” Chris explained quickly.  “It’s me and this crazy biological drive towards women.  I can’t help it.”

            “I know you can’t,” Brian said softly, his smile slightly more natural this time.  “I can’t help who I love, either.”

            “I’m such a bad choice,” Chris said.  “You can do much better than me.”

            “No one else makes me laugh like you do,” Brian said.

            “I’m not that funny,” Chris said.  He recognized the way Brian was looking at him, saw that even through the words and the smiles, there was a sheen of desire in Brian’s gaze.  Brian wanted him.  But Brian wasn’t just after his body, Brian was in love with him, was in love with everything about him.  And he loved Brian too much to be able to bear seeing Brian in pain, especially when he was the one causing the pain.

            But he couldn’t supply what Brian needed, he just couldn’t.

            Even if it meant breaking the heart of the one man he cared about most in the world.

            “Damn it.”  Closing his eyes, Chris slumped sideways against the back of the couch.  He sighed.  He scratched his head.  He opened his eyes, offering a hand and a tired, “Come here.”

            Brian slid closer, curling in against him, and he wrapped an arm around Brian’s waist, closing his eyes and feeling Brian’s breath pass gently over his neck.

            He hated not being able to fix this.  He hated letting this tear them apart.  He hated Brian for wanting him, and he hated himself for that resentment.

            He didn’t usually, ever, cuddle up with other guys like this, but Brian was different.  Brian was special.  Brian was Brian.  And it didn’t make him uncomfortable anymore.  What made him uncomfortable was the emptiness inside when Brian wasn’t with him, when Brian was far away, when too much time passed between visits.

            Besides, Brian wasn’t all that bad to hold, anyway.  He was clean and he was fit.  His hair was silky and he smelled good, kind of like vanilla.  His hands had a tendency to wander, sometimes; not in a groping kind of way, just…he liked to feel things, to touch, to rub.  It was unique to Brian, because Chris’s other friends didn’t pet him, but it only seemed sexual when they were in an actively sexual situation, like when Brian went down on him.  Which he tried never to think about.

            Brian’s hand slowly wandered across his chest.  Brian had stopped touching him, for a brief period, when this new tension had risen between them.  But he’d resented anything that reflected a change in their dynamic; he was too angry to make any concession that he couldn’t handle Brian’s sexual interest in him.  So he’d ordered Brian to go back to petting him.  Brian hadn’t wanted to, because Brian had refused to make him uncomfortable, had refused to make demands, had refused to intrude upon his personal space in any potentially unwanted way.  Which had only pissed him off.

            They were still figuring things out.  They were still pushing and pulling at each other, trying to decide how to make this work.  They had to make this work.

            One minute, Brian was idly running his hand up and down Chris’s thigh.  The next, Brian was starting to pull back.  Immediately suspicious, Chris opened his eyes, tightening his grip and not letting Brian leave.  The second their gazes locked, and he saw the miserable flush on Brian’s face and the guilty heat in Brian’s eyes, Chris cursed.  He meant the curse for Brian and himself and the situation at large, but Brian immediately began to renew his efforts to create distance.

            “Hold still, damn it,” Chris muttered, yanking him closer.  He felt Brian’s hard-on against his thigh, but he ignored it.  Brian, however, immediately began to pull away again.  “Damn it, get back here,” Chris snapped, jerking him down again, into the circle of Chris’s arms.  “What do you want, you want to get me off?  You want me to get you off?”  Chris loved Brian, and he was willing to do whatever it took to chase that misery, shame, and guilt from Brian’s face.  Until recently, he’d never let a guy blow him, but, hell, it was Brian.  What was he supposed to do?  His dick wasn’t too good for Brian’s mouth.

            He’d never offered to get Brian off before, but it seemed weirdly arrogant to assume that his pleasure was all that Brian cared about.  Giving him head probably wasn’t the thrill of a lifetime, even for someone who was in love with him.  And giving Brian a quick hand job wouldn’t kill him.  He hoped.

            “I’m sorry,” Brian said, avoiding Chris’s eyes.  “I didn’t think - - I didn’t want…”

            “Don’t apologize,” Chris said.  He shifted a little, to get Brian’s hard-on against a relatively more comfortable place, and Brian made a sound, half-gasp and half-moan.  Biting back his own apology, Chris stroked the side of Brian’s neck.  “What do you want?” he asked quietly, trying to catch Brian’s gaze.

            Swallowing, Brian tried to edge away.  “You have to go, and I have to deal with the mess you made in my room, so-”

            Chris didn’t let him go anywhere.  “Then we’d better figure this out fast.  Tell me what you want.”

            Closing his eyes, Brian whispered, “Don’t do this to me.”

            Fine.  “We don’t have to talk about it,” Chris said.  His hand skimmed down Brian’s side, eliciting a startled gasp, and then his fingers walked over the stiffening bulge of Brian’s arousal.  “You don’t have to say anything that you don’t want to say.”

            “Chris,” Brian whispered, his voice shocked and insistent.  “Chris, Chris…”  His tone sounded like he was saying no, but the knot of his arousal was growing.  “Chris.”

            He could do this, he could do this.  Chris put both hands down there, opening Brian’s fly without looking, keeping his gaze somewhere past Brian’s shoulder as his fingers grazed the twitching hardness of Brian’s erection.  He tried not to catalog the smoothness of Brian’s skin, the cotton of Brian’s boxer-briefs, or the crisp curls of Brian’s pubic hair, and he definitely tried to ignore the softness when his knuckles brushed the pouch of Brian’s balls.  Brian’s erection was, well, it was an erection, hard and pretty thick and kind of long, not enormous but bigger than he’d expected.  It throbbed against his palm and the head was really silky-smooth.

            Brian was clinging to him, arms wrapped around his neck, fingers digging into his shoulders, gasping and panting and whispering, all choked sounding, “Chris, Chris, I can’t, I don’t, please.”  It made Chris feel really weird inside to make Brian sound like that.  He kind of wanted Brian to shut up, so he started a pumping squeezing twisting motion, pretty much what he used on himself only backward.  At that, Brian started going tense all over, making a throaty overwhelmed sex noise right in Chris’s ear.

            Staring at a dingy spot on the bedspread, Chris tried to think about anything but this, anything but the fact that he had another guy’s dick in his hand, anything but the fact that he was jacking Brian off, anything but the fact that Brian was making urgent, desperate, sex noises.  Anything but the fact that he’d just condemned their friendship to an even earlier demise.

            “Chris,” Brian whispered, and his voice sounded different, unsteady but sure, as he ran one hand up the back of Chris’s neck while his other hand pushed at Chris’s wrist.  “Chris, wait.”

            Trying not to seem too eager to let go, Chris released Brian’s hard-on.  He couldn’t meet Brian’s eyes, so he stayed where he was and let Brian stroke his hair.

            “Let me do it for you,” Brian said quietly.  “Let me take care of you.”

            Didn’t Brian want to get off?  Did Brian honestly prefer giving head, or was he just trying to make this easier on Chris?  “You don’t have to-”

            “I want to,” Brian whispered, his cheek brushing Chris’s.  “It’s okay, I want to.”

            It wasn’t okay, but Chris didn’t have an argument.  He couldn’t very well say, “No, I’d rather jack you off,” because he wouldn’t.  He also didn’t want to come in Brian’s mouth again, but this wasn’t about what he wanted.  It was about him providing Brian with what he could, short-term, at the expense of their long-term friendship.

            Sitting back, he tried to appear relaxed as Brian slid down to kneel before him on the floor.  His dick was soft when Brian pulled it out, and he dropped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to envision women with pink lipstick and cute tits.

            It took him a minute to really get going, because his mind and body were kind of freaked out about participating in man-on-man action.  But the thing was, Brian was really, really, really good.  Suspiciously, amazingly, freakishly good.  When Brian started licking this way and sucking that way and rubbing one thumb right there, Chris felt heat roll through his body like some kind of possession.  It wasn’t long before he was tense and knotted and coming hard in Brian’s mouth, shuddering and spasming a little and barely holding back the groans and cries of pleasure.

            Drained, already hating himself, Chris kept his eyes closed, deciding not to move.

            Brian tucked him away, stealing a few caresses, and then stood.  Chris heard Brian zip himself up, and wondered if Brian had gotten off, if Brian might still be hard, if Brian had gone soft.  He didn’t want to know.

            When he opened his eyes, Brian was gone.

            “God, I love you,” Nick said, kissing JC hungrily, leaning back against the wall and holding JC close, his hands sliding hotly, possessively, over JC’s body.

            JC couldn’t get in complete sentences or even coherent phrases, because his mind and body were wholly centered on being consumed by Nick, but he managed to pant words like “Nick” and “love” and “fuck me” between deep, urgent, passionate kisses.

            “I know, baby, I know,” Nick said, cupping JC’s ass in both hands and pulling JC snugly against his erection, making JC moan and groan and grind with desperate lust.  “God, JC…”  Nick’s voice was so aroused that the sound of it made JC ache, and when Nick abruptly went down on his knees, JC almost landed on his ass.

            “Nick, Nick, please,” JC begged, his knees weak, his thighs trembling, his fingers threading greedily through blond hair as Nick held his hips to keep him upright, opening his fly skillfully with tongue and teeth.  He didn’t want Nick to suck him, he couldn’t take that, he couldn’t, “Oh, god,” he groaned, making loud, harsh, animal noises as his eager erection found Nick’s gorgeous, sinful mouth.

            In seconds, the luscious pleasure of Nick’s mouth proved too great, and JC’s legs gave out on him, his entire body enslaved to the rhythm of Nick’s suction.  Sprawled on the floor, JC moaned helplessly and writhed in near-pain as the intensity of ecstasy overwhelmed him.  Nick’s hands wandered his body, stroking, flirting, teasing, taking him higher, higher, torturing him with his own slavish responses.  When Nick’s mouth left his cock, leaving hot, damp kisses over his pelvis, the tip of a wicked tongue tracing spirals around his navel, JC was mindless with need.

            Arching, rocking, begging, JC ground up against Nick’s body, pleading with Nick to finish it, please, do it.  Kissing his neck as he desperately locked his legs around Nick’s waist, Nick whispered four delicious words in his ear, tenderly kissing his earlobe.  When he felt sweet, skilled fingers stroking the cleft of his ass, JC almost wept, begging Nick to take him, use him, fuck him.

            Nick’s next kiss, next caress, was only the beginning.

            Kevin’s eyelashes were almost too long, the fringe of them draping down over his eyes at the slightest provocation, a gentle curtain.  Justin wanted to touch them.

            So he did.  Very, very carefully and very, very gently.

            Kevin didn’t blink.  Didn’t even twitch.  Just gazed right at him and waited for him to finish.

            JC didn’t know why Nick got to him like this.  He never got out of control like this, never, not with anyone else.  It shamed him, to lose it with Nick, to beg and need and burn so desperately.

            But his body had never known such ecstasy.  And his heart had never known such love.  And the combination had him fiendishly hungry, obscenely devoted.  One look from Nick had him hard, aching, sweating.  One touch had him naked, writhing, coming.

            At least it wasn’t all one-sided.  Nick loved him, too.  And Nick wanted him, there was no hiding that.  The way Nick looked at him, sometimes, it was like he was something new and amazing that Nick had never seen before.  The way Nick touched him, the way Nick kissed him, the way they made love - - Nick burned for him, too, he could feel it.  And Nick was always telling him how sexy he was, how beautiful he was, how special he was.

            Nick thought that JC was too good for him.  So did everyone else.

            JC knew better.  JC knew how much Nick had to offer.  JC knew the way Nick made him feel inside, like something enormous and mysterious had just opened up and he was spinning right towards it, heart first.  It scared him, how much he loved Nick.  But he wanted to be with Nick more than he wanted anything else in the world.

            “I’ll see you soon,” Howie promised, kissing him.

            Lance curled his fingers against Howie’s cheek, gazing into dark eyes.  He and Howie stood so close that they breathed each other’s air, and he wanted to stay this close forever.  “You don’t have to,” he said, still not comfortable with taking as much from Howie as he wanted.

            “But I want to,” Howie whispered, lips brushing his in a soft kiss.  “You won’t be able to keep me away.”

            Breaking the kiss with a nip at his lower lip, AJ pushed him away with a careless grin.  “If you don’t go pack your shit and get out, you can’t hop a ride with us.”

            He really had to go, or they’d ream his ass for being late.  And his ass had taken enough of a pounding already.  “See you later,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing AJ again.

            A sexy smirk.  “Give me a call.”

            As he left the room, Joey didn’t even bother to tell himself that he didn’t want this to happen again.

            JC’s back to the door, he felt a sweet throbbing in his heart, in his dick, all through his body, as Nick kissed him good-bye.

            Nick’s voice was quiet.  “Sometimes I think that I must be the biggest fool on the planet.”

            As Nick’s forehead touched his, JC ran his fingers back through Nick’s soft blond hair.  “For what?” he asked, not wanting Nick to believe it for a second.

            “For thinking that this can last,” he said.  “For staying faithful to you.  For thinking that there’s really something between us.  You’re too good for me, JC, everybody knows it, everybody sees it.  I know you’re screwing around on me, I just-”

            “I’m not,” JC said, running his hand down the side of Nick’s neck.  God, even while he was hurt and angry at Nick’s accusations, it still felt so good to touch him.  “I’m not too good for you, and you know that I’m not screwing around on you.”

            “There’s so much ass out there, there are so many guys after you, you’re on the road, I know what it’s like,” Nick said.  “If you’re doing it, just tell me.  I want you to be honest with me.  I’d rather know about it than think it’s not happening and find out later.”

            “I wouldn’t do that to you.”  He held Nick’s gaze, needing Nick to hear him and understand.  “I care about you too much to hurt you like that.  I wouldn’t betray you.”  His boyfriends usually didn’t expect him to be strictly monogamous, so he didn’t have a lot of experience at it, but he’d do it, for Nick.  He’d do anything for Nick; terrifying as that was, it was true.  “It’s part of being on the road.  We have to trust each other.”

            Eyes closing, Nick leaned into him, nose brushing nose, nuzzling against him in a way that tugged at his heart.  “I love you so much, baby.”  Nick’s voice was low, breathy.  “I don’t see you often enough, and when I don’t see you, I start to wonder, I start to think…”

            “We’ll see each other more,” JC said.  “We’ll find time to be together.”  Threading his fingers through Nick’s hair, kissing Nick’s mouth, he whispered, “You’re the only one who gets any of this.  You’re the only man who can have me.”

            Brian opened the door.

            “I can’t run off without saying good-bye,” Chris explained.  He wanted to see for himself that everything was okay.  He wanted the last time they saw each other to be good and normal, not sick and wrong.

            “Aren’t you supposed to be on the bus?” Brian asked, checking his watch.

            “Yeah, but Joey and Justin aren’t there yet.”

            “Justin’s late?” Brian asked.  “That isn’t like him.”

            “I’m not here to talk about Justin, I’m here to say good-bye to you,” Chris said.  He offered a hand.  “Good-bye, Brian.”

            With a smile, Brian shook his hand.  “Good-bye, Chris.”

            “You still owe me a re-match on the court,” Chris reminded him.  “We didn’t have time last night, but don’t think that I’ve forgotten.”

            “How could you have forgotten the way that I beat your ass?” Brian asked.  “When am I going to see that twenty bucks?”

            “I decided not to give it to you,” Chris said, still holding into his hand, squeezing it, pulling on it a little.  “It’s not worth it, when we both know that I’ll win it back, and more, next time.”

            “You?  Win?” Brian asked.  “You?  Beat me?  On the court?”  Tugging on Chris’s hand, he laughed, shaking his head.  “Maybe if you tie both hands behind my back.”

            “Oh, bondage.”  Chris grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.  “Kinky.”

            Rolling his eyes, Brian pushed him back, releasing his hand, laughing.  “I’ll see you later, Chris.”

            “Don’t call me,” Chris said, backing up.  “I’ll call you.”  He turned to leave, then turned back, pointing at Brian.  “Unless I forget, or I get busy, or I lose your number, or I fall down a well.  In which case, you should probably call me, or call for help.  You aren’t really into bondage, are you?”

            “If I am,” Brian said, gesturing around, “I’m not going to admit it in the middle of the hallway.”

            “Oh, secrets,” Chris said.  “Mysterious.  Hidden depths.  Private little kinks.  I get it, I see.”

            An exasperated look.  “Get your mind out of the gutter.”

            He kind of liked Brian’s accent.  “You’re the pervert.  I’m just trying to find out how serious this affliction really is.  How do you feel about handcuffs?”

            “If you have to tie someone down to get her to let you have sex with her, I think you’d better just find someone else,” Brian suggested.

            “No handcuffs?” Chris asked, faking disappointment.  “You really are boring.”

            A helpless shrug.  “Sorry.”

            Shaking his head, Chris made a tsking sound.  “Oh, well.  Give me a call, anyway,” he said, turning to go.  “I’ll send you a subscription to Freaky Perverts Weekly.  Maybe it’ll spice up your life.”

            The door to AJ’s room opened.  “Does that still come with a free cat o’ nine tails?” he asked.  “Someone stole mine.”

            Stepping onto the bus, Justin offered a general smile but couldn’t quite make eye contact.  As everyone joked about his lateness, he dredged up a grin and returned the comments with a chuckle, an eye roll, and a rude gesture.  Ducking into the bathroom at the first opportunity, he locked the door, his heart pounding in relief.

            Pulling out his phone, he dialed.

            “Not yet,” Kevin said.

            He breathed slowly, carefully.

            A few minutes passed.

            A subtle lurch, and the bus rolled away.

            “All right,” Kevin said.  “You can swallow now.”

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Sucker"
Boyslash
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