Brian
Copyright August 26-28, 2001 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: R
Pairing: Drew Lachey/Jeff Timmons
Disclaimer: The young men who comprise 98 Degrees 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 slashwriters. Hi, Kyla.
Wherein they play football, they play keep-away, and they play "Baby, can I touch you there?"
Notice: Kyla took me to see 98 Degrees. Thank you, Kyla. I wrote the majority of this story sitting on her couch. Whatever's wrong with this story is solely the fault of Britney, who was singing in Kyla's apartment. (Let's just say that I don't tend to listen to Britney's music while I write.)
He licked sweat from his own upper lip, and could almost pretend that it was Jeff’s.
When he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine putting his lips to Jeff’s naked back. Parting those lips to let his tongue flick against Jeff’s skin. Tasting salt, licking sweat, feeling the flex of muscle against his tongue, beneath his lips.
Sometimes, behind his closed eyelids, Jeff turned around and faced him. He raised his hand, and Jeff gave silent permission. His fingertips grazed smooth, full muscle. Jeff took one step. Closer. To him. He kissed Jeff’s chest, letting his eyes close, letting his fingertips slide down Jeff’s naked side.
He had touched Jeff’s chest, in public, with his eyes open. They’d been sitting around talking about tattoos, and Jeff got up to do something while he was standing, too, and Jeff had been naked to the waist. If you had that body, why be shy about it? Drew wasn’t shy about his body, either. But they’d been talking about tattoos, and he’d admired Jeff’s, and he’d touched.
Touched Jeff’s naked chest. Ran his fingers across Jeff’s pec. Almost brushed a small, hard nipple.
It had been casual, brief, something no one considered twice.
Except that Drew considered it quite a few times.
Touching guys was no big deal. It wasn’t something he did for fun, but he came into physical contact with other men on occasion - - he smacked Nick whenever he felt like it. Yet there was something about having touched Jeff…about the very idea of touching Jeff…
Masculine. Intimate.
He found that he couldn’t touch Jeff. He shied away from even the most incidental contact. When Jeff was taking up too much room on the couch, instead of shoving Jeff’s feet out of his way, he sat somewhere else. At a safe distance.
Safe. Safe from what?
Safe from Jeff?
Safe from touching Jeff?
Safe from the weird urge to slip his fingers along Jeff’s jaw and-
No.
Drew closed his eyes to hide from the image.
Behind his eyelids, Jeff
waited.
“Not much.” He changed positions, managing to toss Jeff a smile while putting more space between their bodies. Between his body and Jeff’s body. A little air, a few layers of clothing… There wasn’t much between them at all.
“Nobody’s here. I’m early?”
A patient, amused smile. “You’re late. We had the meeting without you.”
“Without me!” Jeff said. “You can’t have a meeting without me!”
“We did,” Drew said. “And all future meetings will be held without you, too, because we voted you out of the group.”
“The hell you did.”
“We did,” Drew said. “You’re welcome to stay on the tour.”
“As what? A consultant?”
“A roadie,” Drew suggested. “Maybe a back-up dancer?”
Jeff hit his arm.
He laughed. “Relax. Nick and Justin will be back in a couple of minutes, and then we’ll have our meeting-“
“And we’ll vote you out of the group,” Jeff said.
“There’s no 98 Degrees without me,” Drew said.
“We’ll manage.”
“There’s no fan base without me.”
“What?!”
“You think everybody shows up to see you?”
“Yes,” Jeff said.
“You wish!”
“Hey. Before the guys get back.” Jeff turned serious.
“What’s up?” Something was wrong.
Jeff adopted his position: leaning front, elbows on knees. Jeff met his eyes, then looked to the floor.
Drew waited.
Blue glanced off of hazel. “Are we okay?”
What? “Yeah.”
Jeff nodded. Scratched the back of his neck. Looked at Drew. “If we’re not…”
“No. We are.”
Jeff nodded again.
Justin came in. Drew got up and went to find Nick. When he
came back, he let Nick sit beside Jeff, and leaned against the wall instead.
“Yeah.”
“Nothing’s bothering you?”
“You keep speeding through ‘My Everything.’”
“I what?”
“I’ve told you, you’re going too fast. You-“
“I go fast to keep you from lagging! I’m trying to pick up the pace, you slacker.”
“Slacker!”
“Besides being a picky anal-retentive-“
“I’m anal-retentive? You’re the-“
“Are you okay with Jeff?”
“What?”
“Are you okay with Jeff?” Nick repeated, sticking to his point.
“Yes, I’m okay with Jeff. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I’m just asking.”
“And I’m telling you, I’m okay with Jeff.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Nick was looking at him.
“What?!”
“You could tell me. If you had a problem.”
“If I had a problem,” Drew said. “Yes, if I had a problem, I could tell you. But I don’t have a problem.”
“I’m just asking,” Nick said, holding up his hands.
Drew boxed Nick’s palms.
“I’m fine. Now let me go to bed.”
“Sure, with what?” Drew asked, crossing the room.
“Can you get this?” Jeff was half-twisted, holding the back of his pants together.
“Can’t you dress yourself?” Nick asked, pulling on his shirt.
“I used to be able to get this no problem.”
“What, you’re gaining weight?” Justin asked.
“Ha ha ha,” Jeff said. “It’s called muscle. I’ve been packing my thighs and my…”
“Butt,” Nick said.
“Yeah, that,” Jeff said. “I gotta be a man all over.”
“You might want to try getting rid of your breasts, then,” Justin advised.
Jeff gave Justin his “I’m going to be an adult and not hit you for being an ass” smile.
Justin smiled back.
Drew looked at the task before him. He was supposed to zip up Jeff’s pants, then fasten the hooks.
“I still say it’s fat,” Justin said.
“Muscle,” Jeff stressed. “Feel that.” He smacked his thigh. “Is that fat?”
Justin patted Jeff’s cheek. “You keep on thinking that.”
Jeff shoved Justin. “Nick. Tell Justin I’m not fat.”
“Justin’s not fat,” Nick said.
“Thanks,” Justin said.
“Drew, tell them it’s muscle,” Jeff said.
“I have to finish getting
dressed,” Drew said, and turned away. His hands hadn't risen from
his sides.
Jeff wasn’t mean to Drew, by any means. He was…formal. Jeff’s manner wasn’t cold, but it was a far cry from his earlier, casual warmth.
There was distance between them now.
Drew had instated physical distance. Jeff increased that distance by emotional miles.
It had to be Drew’s fault. Jeff had noticed his withdrawal.
He didn’t know how to explain. “Sorry, we’re still friends, I’m just afraid to touch you.”
Jeff would ask, “Afraid to touch me? Why?”
And he’d say, “Because if I touch you, I might not be able to stop. I might touch you in ways that aren’t appropriate.”
Inappropriate touching. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t want to touch Jeff in bad or dirty ways. He just…wanted to touch Jeff.
He couldn’t explain that to Jeff. He couldn’t explain it to Nick. He couldn’t explain it to himself.
But he wanted it all the
same.
Forbidden and sexual under leather.
Casual and matter-of-fact under denim.
Intimidating and inviting,
half-exposed.
Drew knew that he could ease the situation. He should ease the situation. He just didn’t know how. So he didn’t do anything.
Jeff was, on the whole, being rather mature. He wasn’t turning Drew’s rejection into a fight; he wasn’t making a big deal out of it. He was accepting it, and giving Drew space.
Which made Drew feel worse.
Drew didn’t know what Jeff was thinking. What Jeff thought had caused the rift.
Then Nick told him.
And everything got worse.
Nick got fed up with it, and called Drew to his room for a brothers’ conference.
And yelled at him.
Drew literally fell on his ass. He managed to drop onto the foot of Nick’s bed, instead of the floor. He stared.
Nick yelled for another minute, then felt sorry and tried to explain things in his big brother, front man kind of way.
Drew felt numb.
He knew that Jeff was bi. They all knew that Jeff was bi. It was an accepted and acknowledged fact among the four of them. Jeff never dated men, or even had clandestine sex with men, but Jeff was attracted to men, and Nick couldn’t sleep without brushing his teeth, and Justin sang songs from Grease in the shower, and the sun rose in the east.
Jeff was bi.
Drew was keeping his distance from Jeff.
Drew was homophobic. Drew was leery of Jeff’s sexuality. Drew was a jerk.
Jeff was hurt, and kind of pissed, but living with it.
Oh, god.
And everyone thought, what? That he was afraid that Jeff might touch him?
That was bullshit. Jeff was bi, yes. Attracted to men, yes. After Drew’s ass, no. Obviously not.
He wasn’t a homophobic jackass! He was…he was afraid to touch Jeff.
He was a homophobic jackass.
Not for the reasons everyone suspected. For other, different, weirder reasons.
He was afraid to touch Jeff.
He was afraid that he’d touch Jeff in improper ways.
He was afraid that he’d want something improper from Jeff.
Improper. Inappropriate.
He wanted Jeff’s body.
A second passed, and Jeff was hugging him right back.
“Aw,” Justin said, and hugged them.
Nick piled into the group hug.
Drew pushed Nick and Justin off, telling them to get lost. “Do you mind? We’re having quality time here.”
“Quality time,” Jeff agreed.
Drew loved that smile.
Casual touching. No big deal. Just like his exchanges with Nick or Justin.
No staring. Staring was bad. He shouldn’t stare at Jeff.
It wasn’t like a fine body turned his head. If he wanted one of those, he could look in the mirror. It was just that Jeff’s body was a whole new level of fine. A whole new level of masculine perfection.
And he wanted to touch. Still. Again.
Run his fingers over the
curve of Jeff’s tight, round, muscular ass.
He came in his hand.
Jeff was one of the guys. Touching Jeff should be like touching Nick or Justin. No different. No more significant.
It was no big deal. No deal at all.
He put his hand to Jeff’s naked shoulder.
Jeff turned, expectant. Eyebrows raised, eyes alert.
Naked skin. Jeff’s flesh under his hand. Curve of shoulder in his palm.
Jeff smiled.
Drew gave a weak smile in return, for lack of a better response.
Jeff smirked.
Drew smacked Jeff’s shoulder
and walked away from him.
Jeff liked to pinch his cheeks.
Jeff was an idiot.
He wondered if he might be
blushing more these days.
He held onto the ball.
Jeff tried to wrestle it from him.
He got a little sexually excited.
Jeff stole the ball and ran off to attempt an illegal touchdown.
Drew rolled to his stomach
on the grass and watched Jeff.
Jeff offered an amused, self-deprecating smirk and asked, “Would you like to lead?”
Drew took Jeff’s hand in his, put his other hand on Jeff’s hip, and guided Jeff into a slow tango.
“Watch out! Jeff’s dancing!” Nick said.
Justin ducked.
“Look into my eyes,” Drew said. “Right here.”
Jeff looked into his eyes.
“Music?” Drew requested.
Nick started an impromptu background melody, and Justin picked it up with him.
“Right here,” Drew repeated, and danced Jeff down the aisle. “Relax,” he said softly. “I’m driving.” He locked Jeff into his gaze.
“Dip him,” Justin said.
“You’re a dip,” Nick said to Justin.
Drew slowed, turned, and lowered Jeff into a dip.
Nick and Justin burst into applause.
Drew pulled Jeff upright and smiled.
Wolf whistles.
“I was dancing,” Jeff said.
“And you only half sucked,” Nick said. “Congratulations, man.”
Jeff bowed, kissing the air over Drew’s hand.
Drew squeezed Jeff’s fingers
and went back to sleep.
Drew pulled the covers over his head.
“Jeff!” Nick shouted. “Drew-"
“I’m sleeping,” Drew said.
Jeff snuck a hand over Drew’s side and put whatever it was against Drew’s chest, then climbed out and tried to run for it. Nick grabbed him, and the battle continued.
Drew went back to sleep.
He smacked Jeff’s back.
Jeff turned around. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Drew said.
“Hey, Justin,” Jeff said, glancing over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Justin said, tying his shoes.
“Take five.”
Justin looked at them. Stood. “Hey, Nick.” Within seconds, Jeff and Drew were alone.
Drew didn’t want to be alone with Jeff.
“Thanks for trying to, for dancing with me,” Jeff said.
Oh. “Sure,” Drew said.
Jeff was looking at him. Trying to explain how much it meant, without having to embarrass them both by saying anything.
“It was my pleasure,” Drew said.
Jeff smiled. “Let me return the favor?”
“You’re teaching me how to dance?” Drew asked.
“I could teach you how to sing,” Jeff offered. Drew hit him. “No,” Jeff said, grinning. “Something else. Look into my eyes.”
What, Jeff was right there. “I’m looking.”
“Come on, look into my eyes.”
Drew inhaled, exhaled, and looked into Jeff’s eyes.
Jeff held his gaze.
Okay, Drew was ready for Nick and Justin to come back in, now.
Jeff took his hand. “Relax. It’s just me.”
That was the problem. If it were anyone else, there would be no problem. Drew could pull away, laugh it off, break the moment without hesitation. Now, here, with Jeff, he was trapped. He didn’t want to pull away from Jeff. Jeff was touching him. Jeff was, for all intents and purposes, holding his hand. Firm, strong, gentle hand.
Jeff raised Drew’s hand. Brought it to his naked chest.
Drew had forgotten to continue to breathe.
Jeff placed Drew’s hand against his skin. Held Drew’s palm to his chest. “Right into my eyes,” Jeff said. He guided Drew’s hand lower, just a few inches. “Relax. I’m driving.”
This was not happening. Heartbeat, that was Jeff’s heartbeat; he could feel it. Smooth skin. His thumb brushed a nipple and he froze. Somehow that was going too far, crossing boundaries, making it real. Until that move, it had been something he could play off, laugh off. But he’d touched Jeff’s nipple.
“I could kiss you,” Jeff said.
Drew wrenched his hand free, jerking back, away from Jeff.
“Or not,” Jeff said. “Drew.”
There was too much to say. He couldn’t say anything. Apologize, explain, beg for forgiveness, accuse, deny-
“At the hotel tomorrow night,”
Jeff said. “I’ll come to your room.”
A threat?
“I’ll come to your room.”
A promise?
“I’ll come to your room?”
A warning?
Drew considered secretly switching rooms with Nick.
He didn’t want Jeff in his room. He didn’t want to be alone with Jeff. He didn’t want to have touched Jeff. He didn’t want Jeff to know whatever it was that Jeff knew.
Jeff knew something.
Drew didn’t know anything.
Justin knew something. Or understood something. That was reassuring, somehow. Like he had Justin’s support. Even though he didn’t know what was happening.
Maybe he did know what was happening.
Maybe that was why he was
afraid.
He didn’t know himself. Didn’t, it would seem, know Jeff. But he knew that knock.
He opened the door and let Jeff into his room.
Jeff locked the door. Looked at him, smiled, gave a little nod. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He was nervous, and it showed, and that only embarrassed him, which really did not help his nervousness.
Jeff was barefoot, but dressed. Drew tried not to look at Jeff’s naked feet. He wanted to touch Jeff’s feet. Kiss Jeff’s instep. “You okay?” Jeff asked.
“I’m a very disturbed person,” Drew said. He looked at Jeff. “So are you.”
Jeff laughed. “Thanks.” Then he took off his shirts. Both of them. Jeff was naked to the waist. Shoulders, arms, pecs, abs. Nipples, navel, tattoos. He leaned back against the wall and raised his arms over his head, crossing his wrists over his head. He managed to look relaxed. “Go ahead.”
What?
“You can pretend that it’s nothing. Close your eyes and pretend I’m somebody else. Pretend it’s a dream. Pretend whatever you want.”
Drew thought about that.
Jeff waited, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
He could see Jeff’s underarm hair. They’d actually had to trim his, for photo shoots, to make it look attractive. They never had to touch Jeff’s. It was naturally appealing, like everything else about Jeff. His fingers twitched by his thigh. He could pretend anything.
He could pretend that he was gay and that was okay and he was here alone making love with his lover.
Oh. Drew’s heart raced as his mind snagged on a new thought. But, no, he couldn’t ask. There was no way he could say those words aloud. He forced himself back to relatively safer territory. It was safe to assume that anything Jeff had bared was his for the admiring. He didn’t have to ask whether he could kiss Jeff’s chest. He could not ask if he could touch Jeff’s…penis. Through Jeff’s pants or naked.
Jeff’s cock. Naked. In his hand.
Drew stepped forward and ran his fingers up Jeff’s biceps. He didn’t have to say anything. He could do this in silence.
They could do this in silence.
He lowered his head and kissed right below Jeff’s collarbone. Let his fingers run down Jeff’s side, up again, skirting close to a nipple. Not close enough.
Jeff’s body was strong and hard. Concentrated. Drew kissed Jeff’s kanji and went up, over, up, to the sensitive skin inside Jeff’s arm. He licked into the soft patch of hair there, letting his palm feel a smooth slide down Jeff’s broad back.
He licked Jeff’s nipple. Licked it some more, liking the way it felt against his tongue, a hard little sensitive nub.
Then he had the terrifying, humiliating thought that he probably wasn’t doing a thing for Jeff. Jeff was probably bored. He was too slow and too pedestrian and too inexperienced and-
-and Jeff was turned on. He was afraid to look up into Jeff’s face, but there was proof of Jeff’s arousal right there, in the front of Jeff’s pants. Right there.
He wanted to touch it.
He couldn’t ask.
He wanted to touch it.
He couldn’t ask.
Jeff lowered his arms and,
with one casual hand, opened his fly.