Copyright November 21-24, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise 98 Degrees, 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.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor, the Savage Garden slashers, and anyone who's actually following this series.

Notice: "Living" series: "I Need You Tonight," "Boy Lead the Way to Ecstasy," "Not Easy," "No One," "Rest in Peace."

        Andrew.  John.  Carter.  Littrell.  Lachey.

        He had more names than anyone needed.

        Drew Lachey.  Drew Carter Littrell Lachey.  Drew Carter.  Drew Littrell.

        "Can you just sign your name?" his brother asked impatiently.

        He wasn't sure which name to sign.  Usually, for legal documents, he put "Andrew J. Lachey."  But now, legally, he was Andrew J. Carter Littrell Lachey.

        So he wrote, carefully, "Andrew J. Carter Littrell Lachey."  Set down the pen.  Handed over the papers.

        "Congratulations, Mr. Lachey," the agent said, and shook his hand.  "You've just bought yourself a house."

        "Thanks," he said, and wiped his hand nervously on his jeans.  He swallowed and looked around the room.  He'd just bought himself a house.

        At least he was getting some.

        Or would be.  When Nick and Brian came.

        When Nick and Brian came?

        Oh, you know what I mean.

        Since Drew wasn't exactly - - okay, so he was gay and had gone to a performing arts school, but still, he wasn't that great of an interior decorator.  So he hired someone to set up most of the rooms, to help him pick out furniture, that sort of thing.  He wasn't trusting himself or the other Degrees to choose curtains.  They'd probably just hang up black garbage bags and call it a day.

        Of course, then the interior decorator got distracted and spent more time talking with Justin than looking at drapery fabric.  But she was a lot of help for the first ten minutes, at least.  And she was a great help in offering free advice on how to decorate Justin's new apartment, which was ten minutes from Drew's house and five minutes from Nick and Jeff's new place.

        Brian and Nick were arranging their affairs long-distance.  They wanted to come home to their new home, their real home, Drew.  So Drew talked Nick, Jeff, and Justin into helping him move Brian and Nick's belongings, too.  (He still suspected that Nick had given in less because of his arguments and more because of a phone call from Brian.)  Then he had to figure out what to do with all of their stuff, where to put everything.  He learned a lot about his lovers that week.

        He'd wanted to wait, to stay away from the new house until Brian and Nick could be there with him.  Brian talked him into moving in, though.  Then he wanted to wait to use the bed, sleep in the guest room, but Nick called and...um...talked him into it.  Literally.  By the time Drew hung up the phone, the new bed had been christened.

        "God he makes me so hard," Nick said.  "I want to go home."

        "Soon," Brian promised.

        "He's waiting for us."

        "I know."

        "I think he wants us to fuck him."

        "No pressure."

        "You're the one holding back."

        "He wasn't ready."

        "You're not having this argument again, are you?" AJ asked.

        "We're not arguing," Brian said.

        "Brian and I never argue," Nick said.

        "Right.  I forgot.  You're the perfect couple.  A match made in heaven.  You never have any problems," AJ said.

        "Are you still bitter?" Nick asked.

        "He did apologize," Brian said.

        "He can apologize until his voice goes raw and his career's ruined," AJ said, "I don't care."

        "AJ-"

        "I...don't...care!" AJ said.  "Give me a break."

        "Lance cares," Brian said.

        "Fuck Lance," AJ said.

        "Hey," Nick said.

        "No.  Fuck Lance," AJ said.  He looked at them.  "I don't care anymore."  He walked off to the front of the bus.

        "Why is he being such a jerk?" Nick asked.

        "He's hurt," Brian said.

        "So?  Come on, you and I hurt each other, and-"

        "When?"

        "When what?"

        "When did we hurt each other?  I know I hurt you, but I don't remember you ever hurting me."

        "When I started getting it on with Drew."

        "Oh."

        "That didn't hurt you?"

        "Was it supposed to?"

        "I wouldn't have minded if it did."

        "It did.  It didn't, too."

        "That was clear."

        "Thanks."

        "You think AJ's going to forgive Lance?"

        "Yeah."

        "Yeah?"

        "Yeah."

        "Good.  Then maybe he'll stop being a jerk."

        "Leave what alone?"

        "Me."

        "Nah."  Howie settled in comfortably.  "Talked to Chris last night."

        "When don't you?"

        "He misses me."

        "You noticed?"

        "I miss him, too."

        "You'll get over it."

        "We were only together for-"

        "Howie."

        "We were only together for two nights.  And the second night..."

        "The first night was foreplay.  The second night was the real thing.  And now you haven't seen him for months and you miss him."  AJ's voice was bitter.

        "I don't remember what he tastes like anymore."

        AJ looked at the seat in front of him.

        "I don't even remember what it felt like.  Not really."

        AJ looked out through the window again.

        "When I hear his voice over the phone, I can see him."  Howie was quiet for a moment.  "But I can't...remember...what it was like anymore."

        AJ scratched his elbow.

        "I miss him."

        "You'll get over it," AJ said.  He could see his reflection in the glass.  "You will."

        "You okay?" Joey asked.

        "Yeah."

        "Okay."

        Lance stirred, coming back to himself.  "Can't wait to get home."

        "Me too.  Gotta get back in touch with...everybody.  I miss everybody."

        Lance's eyes looked away again.  "Yeah."

        "Hey.  Come on.  Forget about it."

        Lance looked at him.

        "No, I don't mean forget about it, I know you're not going to forget about it, I just...  It's not the end of the world.  World's still here.  You're still here."

        "You're really profound, you know that?"

        "I know that," Joey said.

        "You ever think...  Some people are meant to be together, and others just happen to be together?  Like they could just as easily have been with somebody else?"

        "Like who?"

        "Okay, the first kind, meant to be together.  That's easy."

        Joey grinned and stood up, leaning to gaze down over the seats in front of him.  Justin was asleep, curled up, head on JC's shoulder; JC was holding Justin close, listening to headphones, idly toying with Justin's curls.  Joey sat down again and said, "Yeah."

        "But the other kind, like they just happened to be together...like me and AJ.  I mean, why AJ?  Why not somebody else?  And it's not like he's destined to be with me."

        "You don't know that."

        "He's not with me."

        "He was.  He wants to be."

        "He doesn't want to be with me.  He doesn't want me.  What he wants is for me to shrivel up and die."

        "He does not."

        "He called me."

        "When?"

        "Last Wednesday."

        "You didn't say anything.  Wednesday.  Wednesday.  Is that the...you were throwing up before the show."

        "Yeah."

        "He called you then?  Right before we went on?"

        Lance nodded, breaking eye contact, swallowing.

        "What'd he say?  No, tell me.  What did he say?"

        Lance breathed.  "He was angry."

        "He called you just to yell at you?  That shit."

        "Don't."

        "He deserves it."

        "Just don't."

        "Okay.  Okay."  Joey squeezed Lance's arm.  "It'll be okay."

        "I'm in love with him, you know?"  Lance was avoiding Joey's eyes, his own eyes bright with unshed tears.  "I totally screwed up."

        "He'll forgive you."

        Lance shook his head slightly.  "No.  He won't."

        "There's your positive attitude!  Way to go!"

        "Joey.  Joey," Chris said from behind them.  "You're ruining Lance's dramatic moment."

        "Oh. Sorry," Joey said.

        Jeff rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning away from Nick.  "Yeah, right.  No, no," he said, holding up a hand without looking back as Nick came closer.  "It's all right."

        "Is this Jeff's impersonation of a drama queen?" Justin asked Drew.

        "It could use some work," Drew admitted.

        "Nick's is much better."

        "You should see Nick's."

        "Your Nick?"

        Drew smiled.  "Yeah.  My Nick."

        "I can just imagine."

        "Jeff," Nick tried.

        "No, no, it's all right," Jeff said again.  "It's fine."

        Nick looked at Drew and Justin.  "A little help here, guys?"

        "You're doing fine," Justin said.

         "Try begging," Drew advised.

        "On your knees."

        Drew looked at Justin.

        "Not like that," Justin said.

        "If I'm not having sex in this house, nobody can have sex in this house," Drew said.

        Jeff scratched his chin and looked at the ceiling.  Nick turned red and looked at the floor.

        Drew stared.  He remembered to close his mouth.  Then, "No.  You didn't.  You didn't!  You had sex in my house?!  Where?  When?  You didn't use the bed, did you?"

        "You'd rather they use the kitchen table?" Justin asked.

        "I eat at that table!"

        "I eat at that table," Justin said.  "Tell me you didn't use the kitchen table."

        "Bathroom," Jeff said, as Nick said, "Guest room."  They glanced at each other and blushed.

        Drew's jaw dropped again.

        "Anywhere else?" Justin asked.

        "Closet," Jeff said, as Nick said, "Basement."

        "When are you doing this?!" Drew demanded.  "Why are you doing this?!"

        "I think you know why," Justin said.

        "Because my idiot brother can't keep his hands off of his husband," Drew said.  "Learn some self-control!"

        "The closet was his fault," Nick said.

        "You did not have sex in a closet," Drew said.

        "It's so cliche," Justin said.

        "I've lived here for four weeks and you've had sex four times," Drew said.  "Are you spacing it out once a week or did you have one really busy afternoon?"

        "The bathroom was the second day," Nick said.  "The basement was a few days after that.  The closet was last week."

        "And the guest room?"

        "Yesterday," Nick said too quickly.

        "Tell me you changed the sheets!"

        "We didn't use the bed."

        "I don't want to know.  I don't want to know," Drew repeated.  "And you?" he asked Justin.

        "I've been good," Justin said.  "It's a personal policy of mine to let the actual owner of the house get laid in it before I try."

        "I appreciate it," Drew said.  "And you two, I'm never letting you out of my sight again."

        "You can't seriously be that horny," Justin said.  "You have self-control."

        "The bathroom was totally my fault," Nick said.  "The basement was just because the bathroom had been fun.  Yesterday in the guest room - - well, by now it's a tradition."

        "And the closet?" Drew asked.

        "My fault," Jeff said.

        "We were unpacking," Nick said.

        "Brian and Nick's stuff, right."  Drew looked at them.  "And?"

        "And...Nick had this..."  Nick swallowed.  "Jeff found it.  Not on purpose!  Just...it was there, with Nick's stuff, and we were moving boxes, and..."

        "Like what?  Sex toys?" Justin asked.

        "And you used it?!" Drew demanded.

        "No!" Nick said.  "No, it just...made Jeff horny."

        "So he pushed you into a closet," Justin said.  "I can see that."

        "What was it?" Drew asked.  "What did you find?"

        "Nothing," Nick said.

        "You two," Drew said, "are incredibly immature."

        "Says the guy who's with Nick Carter," Nick muttered.

        "That's Nick Carter Littrell Lachey," Drew said.  "And he's never grabbed me for sex in a closet, a bathroom, a-"

        "He will."

        "Not in somebody else's house!"

        "He will."

        "Had sex in our house," Drew repeated.

        "Don't tell Nick."

        "Don't tell Nick what?"

        Brian looked over his shoulder.  "Where'd you come from?"

        "I know it's been a while since you were with a girl, but sex is being used for procreation these days.  Don't tell Nick what?  Who are you talking to?"

        "Nobody."

        "Thanks," Drew said.

        "It's Drew, isn't it?"

        "No."

        "Don't lie to him," Drew admonished.

        "It is. I can tell."

        "You don't know."

        "You're hard.  You always get hard when Drew's on the phone."

        "You do?" Drew asked.

        "Give me."

        "No."

        "I want to talk to Drew."  Nick reached for the phone; Brian pulled it away from him.  A scuffle ensued, and when it ended Nick was sitting astride Brian on the floor. "Drew?"

        "Hi, Nick."

        "I knew it.  What doesn't Brian want you to tell me?"

        "I can't tell you."

        "Why not?"

        "Brian told me not to tell you.  I can't go behind his back and tell you now."

        "It's not behind his back.  He's right here."  Brian was lying beneath Nick calmly, relaxed and listening.  "Tell me."

        "Ask Brian if I can."

        "Brian, tell Drew to tell me."

        "I don't give Drew orders."

        "Then you tell me."

        "It's not-"

        "Somebody tell me!"

        Drew sighed.  "Nick and Jeff had sex in our house."

        A pause.  "Our house?"

        "Yes."

        "Our new house?"

        "Yes."

        "Where in our new house?  Did you see them?"

        "I didn't see them.  They told me.  I think they feel guilty.  And they should."

        "Where?"

        "The guest room, the first floor bathroom, the upstairs hall closet, and the basement."

        "All of that?  In one day?"

        "They spread it out over four weeks."

        "They had sex in our new house.  Real sex or oral sex or-"

        "Nick!"

        "Did you ask them?"

        "No!"

        "You have the right to know."

        "I don't want to know!"

        "I do!"

        "Then you ask them!"

         "Okay."

        "Nick!"

        "Are they there?"  Silence.  "Drew?"

        "Yeah.  But you-"

        "Let me talk to them.  Just put them on the phone."

        "No."

        "Just for a minute."

        "No."

        "Please?"

        "You can't talk to both of them at once, anyway."

        "Then let me talk to Nick."

        "Are you sure?"

        "Yeah.  Not Jeff.  I really can't talk to-"

        "Hey, Nick."

        "-Jeff."  Nick swallowed.  "Hi."

        Brian smiled.

        "You wanted to talk to me?" Jeff asked.

        "Did you have sex in my new house?"

        "Uh...yeah.  I'm sorry about that."

        "Four times?"

        "Yeah.  We won't do it again."

        "It's okay."  Nick's free hand rested over his groin.  "Jeff?  What's Drew wearing?"

        "Jeans that are too big for him and a red sweater."

        "Bright red or dark red?  Bulky or thin?  Zipper or button-fly?"

        "Uh...dark, thin, zipper."

        "Tell him to get button-fly jeans before I get there."

        "Nick wants you to buy button-fly jeans.  Now he's scowling at me."

        "The cute scowl or the angry one?"

        "The cute one."

        "Okay.  Jeff?"

        "Mm-hmm?"

        "What are you wearing?"

        "Tight white briefs and nothing more.  Why?"

        "Give me that!  Carter, this had better not be you."

        "Shit."  Nick thrust the phone at Brian.

        "Hello?"

        "Brian, tell your boyfriend to stop flirting with my husband."

        "Hi, Nick."

        "Would you - - hey - - give me my phone!  Brian?"

        "Hey."

        Nick's hand rubbed in between Brian's thighs.

        "Tell Nick I'll wear whatever clothes I want."

        "Drew's wearing whatever he wants."

        "Yeah?"

        "Yeah."

        "Tell Drew I'm giving you a blowjob."

        "No."

        "He's not, is he?" Drew asked.

        "No," Brian said.

        "Tell Drew I want to suck his cock."

        "No," Brian said.

        "Why not?"

        "You tell him."  Brian handed over the phone.

        "Drew?"

        "Hey," Drew said.

        "Drew, I want to suck your cock."

        "Nick..."

        "It's so big, Drew, it's so hard, I want it.  I miss it."

        "Nick."

        "Does it miss me?"  Nick paused to duck down and lick behind Brian's earlobe.  "Does it?  Does it want to be with me right now?  In my mouth?  I'm good to it, you know I am."

        "I know."

        "I want your cock in my ass, Drew.  I want you to ride me.  I love the way you take me."  Nick's hand closed over the bulge at Brian's groin.  "Drew?  What did you just do?"

        "Nothing."

        "I heard something.  It sounded...did you do something?"

        "I didn't do anything."

        "Give the phone to Nick."

        "No."

        "Do it."

        "Nick?"

        "Jeff."

        "You want something?"

        "Did Drew just do something?"

        "He gave me the phone."

        "Before that."

        "He was talking.  Listening.  He licked his lips."

        "Give him the phone again."

        "Can we not have five people in this conversation at once?"

        "Drew, listen.  Lick your lips."

        "What?"

        "Just do it for me, please."

        "You want me to lick my lips."

        "Right."

        "You can't even see me."

        "I can hear it."

        "You cannot."

        "Just do it for me, please?"  Nick heard Drew's sigh, and then a quick wet sound.  "Do it again."

        "My lips are going to get chapped."

        "Do it again.  Come on, just once more, louder."

        "Louder?"

        "Yeah."

        "Hold on.  I'm going upstairs away from these idiots.  Okay.  You want me to what?"

        "Are you going to your room?  Our room?"

        "Yeah."

        "Good.  Lock the door and get naked in the bed."

        "No!"

        "Why not?"

        "I'm saving myself."

        "For what?"

        "For when you come home."

        "Doesn't mean you can't get off.  Does it?  You're not jacking off anymore?"

        "I'm waiting."

        "For us."

        "Yeah."

        "How long's it been?"

        "Only thirteen days."

        "Drew, how do you keep from touching yourself?  If I were you I'd have my hands all over me all day long.  How do you stand it?"

        "It's not a major hardship."

        "You're very brave.  Lick your lips for me."

        "Loudly?"

        "Loudly."  Nick listened.  "Slower."  He listened again.  "One more time.  Brian, you have to hear this," he insisted, handing over the phone.

        "Hey."

        "Hey."

        "Are you going to lick your lips for me?"

        "No."

        "You did it for Nick."

        "You don't really want me to, do you?"

        "Yes."

        "You're very strange."

        "Drew, right now you could say you're scratching your ankle and I'd get turned on.  I miss you."

        "I miss you."

        "You're not masturbating anymore?"

        "No."

        "Why not?"

        "I don't know.  It's not the same.  I miss you."

        "We'll be home soon.  Nick, I'm trying to talk to Drew."

        "What's he doing?"

        "You don't want to know.  Nick, I...oh," Brian said softly, and Drew could hear his pleasure.  "Nick.  I can't..."

        "Give me that a second.  Drew?  Talk to him."

        "About what?" Drew asked.

        "I don't think it really matters.  Here."

        "Brian?"

        "Drew.  Nick...  Drew, he's...  Drew, I miss you, I want you."

        "Brian?  Is Nick giving you a blowjob?"

        "Yes.  Yessss.  Yes, oh god."

        "Where are his hands?"

        "On me.  I-i-i-innn...me.  Oh."

        "How many fingers?"

        "One.  Just, just one, oh god, Nick."

        "What's he doing?"

        "He's...his mouth...he...god, Nick...his tongue...Drew, I want you."

        "I want you," Drew said.  "Brian, ask him to deep throat you.  Please."

        "You want it?"

        "I...oh, please."  He closed his eyes tightly, squeezing his thighs shut.

        "Nick.  Nick, Drew wants...Drew...wants you to...swallow me.  Yes.  Yes.  Oh...oh my god, oh my god Drew."  Brian was panting in Drew's ear.  "He's...the whole way, the whole way down, feels so good."

        "Two fingers, please, Brian..."

        "Drew wants...two...two fingers...oohhh..."  Brian gasped sharply in mid-pant.  "Drew, he's...he's...I'm...don't..."  Brian moaned, rich and deep, and Drew could feel his pleasure.

        There was a moment of Brian trying to catch his breath, and then, "Drew.  Hi."  Nick, trying to stop panting, too.

        "Nick."

        "Come for me."

        "Nick..."

        "Please, come for me.  I want you to feel so good."

        "I want you.  Nick, please."

        "Anything.  Anything, you know that.  All you have to do is ask."

        "Nick."

        "Tell me."

        "I want you."

        "Tell me."

        "I want you."

        "Tell me."

        "Please."

        "Tell me."

        "I...I can't," he whispered.

        "Yes, you can.  You know you can, because I'm young and horny and I love you, you can tell me anything you want, it's safe.  Just tell me.  Tell me what you want and I'll come home and give it to you.  I just want to make you feel good, you know that."

        "Please."

        "Please what?"

        Drew licked his lips nervously.  "Nick?"

        "What."

        "I want you to lick my cock."

        "I'm always on my knees for you.  Always."

        Drew closed his eyes again.  "I miss you."

        "I'll be home soon.  We both will.  And then it's gonna be so good.  Until we get annoying and you kick us out.  But at least the sex will be good."

        "Just good?"

        "Are you hard now?"  Silence.  "Drew?  Are you hard?"

        "Yes."

        "How hard?  Sort of hard?  Mostly hard?  Very hard?"

        "Very."

        "Is it making you wet?"

        Drew swallowed.  "A little."

        "Can you touch it?"

        "No."

        "Please?  Come on, Drew, just put your hand on it.  Inside your jeans.  Just touch it for me.  You don't have to get off, just...just put your hand on your cock, get your fingers wet with it.  It'll feel...good."

        "Nick?"

        "What."

        "You're touching yourself, aren't you?"

        "Yeah."  Drew could hear Nick's smile.  "Does that turn you on?"

        "Yeah."

         "I want you to touch yourself.  Come on, just a little.  So I can get off thinking about your hand on your dick."

        "If you need help masturbating, I'm sure that Brian will help you."

        "Naughty Drew.  Hey, Brian, Drew wants you to jack me off."

        "I didn't say that!" Drew protested.

        "Now he wants you to suck me."

        "I didn't say that, either!"

        "He wants you to pretend it's his."

        "I think he'll notice the difference."

        "Hey!"

        "I didn't mean it like that."

        "I'm going to hang up on you if you're going to be insulting."

        "I didn't mean it like that!"

        "Brian doesn't believe me anyway.  Hey, tell me something."

        "What?"

        "When we're together again, what do you want first?  You want a blowjob first?  You want me to lick your cock?"

        "Yes.  Please."

        "And then you'll fuck me?"

        "If you want."

        "It's all I can think about.  You're all I can think about.  I want to lick your cock, and you want it, too.  I can almost taste it."

        "You can practice on Brian."

        Nick laughed.  "You're so bad.  I love it.  Damn it!  I have to go.  We have to go.  Say good-bye."

        "Good-bye."

        "Tell me you love me."

        "I love you."

        "Now go jack off.  Hey!"

        "Drew?"

        "Hi."

        "Can't wait to see you.  We'll be home soon."

        "Can't wait."

        "Love you."

        "I love you."

        "Miss you."

        "I miss you."

        "Bye."

        "Bye."

        "Bye!" Nick shouted.

        "It's AJ."

        Lance's heart did this weird thrumming thing.  He really should get that checked.  "Hi."

        "Yeah."  Silence.  "Damn it.  Fuck you."  Click.

        Lance carefully hung up the phone, sat on the nearest chair, put his head in his hands, and closed his eyes.

        The last call he'd gotten from AJ had been right before a concert, two weeks past.  He'd been sure that he'd never hear a word from AJ again.  Now, this.  Which proved, at least, that he was still on AJ's mind.  He wasn't suffering alone.

        But AJ hated him, and with good reason.  AJ had no reason to forgive him.

        AJ.  Proud, dramatic, a one-man theater company.  AJ had opened up to Lance, given himself to Lance.  He'd been given a chance, a chance at happiness and fulfillment and the sort of love and desire and trust and hope that made the shame disappear and the fear worth it.

        And then he'd ruined everything.  Destroyed it.  For good.

        "Forever."

        "For better or for worse."

        "For better or for worse," Brian repeated.  "Calvin and Hobbes."

        "FoxTrot."

        "Zits."

        "Zits.  Acne."

        "Pimples."

        "Blackheads."

        "On that note," AJ said from behind them, "we can get off of the plane now."

        "Yes!" Nick exclaimed, jumping to his feet.

        "They're not going to do 'one more security check' for another forty-five minutes?" Brian asked.

        "That's the last one," AJ said.  "Let's go."

        Kevin shouldered his bag and started the walk, followed by the others.  They were to pass through a private lounge to limousines, which would take them home.  Home.  Kevin, for one, couldn't wait.  He reached the lounge just ahead of the others, and came up short.  "Hi."

        "Hi," Nick Lachey said.

        "Hi," Chris said.

        "Look!" Nick shouted.  "It's Nick!"

        "What are you doing here?" Howie asked, coming forward, smiling at Chris.

        "Pulled a few strings," Chris said.

        "You look good," Howie said.

        "Thanks.  You too."

        Howie smiled and leaned in, lips against his, deepening the kiss only slowly, prolonging the moment.  His fingers reached up almost unconsciously and pulled Howie's hair free, twisting in the thick, dark strands.

        "You look good, too," Nick said.  "Where's Drew?"

        Nick shrugged.  "We lost him.  He's so short, it's easy-"

        Nick, who was a good four inches taller than Nick, did a bit of looming.  "Tell me where he is or you won't be the only one sucking Jeff in a closet."

        Nick's eyes narrowed.

        Brian gently pushed Nick out of the way and said, "Where's Drew?"

        "At home.  Waiting."

        "Why isn't he here?" Nick asked.

        "It's Jeff's idea.  Here," Nick said, "are the keys to the house."  He dropped them into Brian's palm.  "Enjoy.  Welcome home."

        "Thanks," Brian said, touched yet suspicious.

        "Come over to my place?" Howie asked Chris.

        "Sure," Chris said.  "For what?"

        Brian hugged Kevin, AJ,  and Howie, because even though they'd all see each other again quite soon, it was the end of the tour, and a leave-taking seemed appropriate.  Then he and Nick went to get in their limo.  To go home.  To Drew.

        The doorbell rang.

        He could hear, downstairs, a noise at the front door.  Unlock.  Open.  He closed his eyes.  Maybe, if he were really lucky, it would be Jeff, coming to-

        "Wow."

        Nick.

        "Hey.  This is nice," Brian said.  "I mean, really nice."

        "Wait til you get the bill," Nick said.  "Where's Drew?"

        "Drew?" Brian called.

        Drew tried to speak but couldn't find his voice through the rising tide of panic.

        "I'm going upstairs.  That's where the bedroom is," Nick said.

        "Drew?" Brian called.

        Footsteps on the stairs.  "You coming?"

        "Drew?"

        "Hey, there's a...oh."  Nick looked completely shocked.  His jaw dropped.

        Drew swallowed.

        "Nick?" Brian called.  "Great, now they're all missing."

        "Brian?" Nick asked.  "Come here."

        "Nick?"  Brian coming up the stairs.  "What's...Nick?"

        Nick made an interrogative sound.

        "Am I seeing things?"

        Nick made a negative sound.

        "Do you see that?"

        Nick made an affirmative sound.

        "Drew?"

        Drew tried to smile.  "Hi."

        "Oh my god," Nick said, "aliens stole our Drew and replaced him with this guy.  There's an alien in our bed.  An alien who's got a thing for bondage."

        "It's Jeff's fault," Drew said.

        "Whoa.  I'm liking that mental image.  Tell me more."

        "It's not like that," Drew said.

        "Then don't explain it, because I want to think that it is like that.  Drew?"

        "Yes?"

        "What the fuck are you doing tied to the bed with - - are those mine?"

        "Nick?" Brian asked.  "Nick, would it be...wrong...to..."

        "Fuck the alien until Drew comes back?"

        "At least...get to know him better."

        "Get to know him naked."

        "Yeah."

        "Doesn't sound wrong to me.  But we can't untie him.  We can't risk an alien escape.  Better keep him tied up."

        "Okay."

        "He's wearing button-fly jeans.  He's wearing button-fly jeans."

        "I see that."

        "He must be an alien."

       Brian stepped out of his sneakers and pulled off his socks before climbing onto the bed.  "Drew?"

        "Hi," Drew said with a weak smile.

        "Why are you tied to the bed?"

        "It was Jeff's idea."

        "Why'd you go along with it?"

        Drew hesitated.

        "Drew?" Brian asked, knuckles brushing his temple.

        "I thought that you might like it," Drew said.

        "Drew..."

        "I wanted to go to the airport, and I got so excited I was sort of annoying about it, and Nick threatened to tie me to the bed, and Jeff thought that that was a good idea, and..."

        "And you let him?"

        "I thought you might like it."

        "Are you finished whispering so we can have sex now?" Nick asked.

        "Let me untie you," Brian said.

        "Okay."

        "No," Nick said.  "What are you doing?"

        "I'm letting him go," Brian said, tugging at a knot in the white silk.

        "Those are mine.  They stay."

        "Nick, you can't keep him like this.  He doesn't like it."

         "But he looks pretty."

        "Drew's always pretty," Brian said, and kissed him.  Drew's lips parted, mouth opening to Brian.  It was everything that Drew had wanted and lived without for long months.  Hands tied, he wrapped his leg around Brian's waist, drawing Brian closer.  Soon Brian was astride him, against him, sitting in his lap, chest to his chest, stroking down his back.

        Nick watched them, Brian's aggression, Drew's acceptance.  Drew was naked to the waist, sitting up against the headboard, arms stretched, wrists tied to the railings with Nick's white silk strips.  He couldn't even get close to being pissed that someone had been going through his stuff.

        He stripped quickly, then got on the bed.  Nice.  Soft, wide mattress.  Drew hadn't made the bed, and he could imagine Drew lying asleep in the disarray of sheets.  What was the point of making a bed if you were just going to fuck on it and come all over it, anyway?

        Undressing Brian was a bit more difficult than usual, since Brian was too busy licking Drew's mouth to cooperate much.  Since Brian was distracted, Nick snuck in a little gratuitous groping along the way.  Not that Brian was by any means sexually unresponsive, but Brian always got harder faster when Drew was involved.  Nick did, too.  Maybe it was the extra sexual energy created by a third person.  Maybe it was the kick provided by the forbidden.  Maybe Drew was just way too sexy.  It was worse now, of course, because they'd been away from Drew, and they missed him so badly that their bodies had developed a certain obsessive fondness for him.

        The muscles in Drew's arms were flexing as Drew struggled to work a hand free.  Nick stroked Drew's forearm and said, "Hey, stop that.  You'll hurt yourself."

        "Untie him," Brian said, breaking the kiss.

        Nick nudged Brian aside, saying, "My turn.  No, don't untie him."

        "He doesn't like it."

        "Give it a chance."

        "You can't keep him tied up if he-"

        "He didn't ask to be let go."

        "He's too embarrassed to ask."

        "He's too embarrassed to enjoy it.  Give it a chance."

        "I'm not doing this."

        "Hey."  Nick took Brian's hand in his, kissed it.  "Take down one wrist and hold his hand.  The left one."  He turned to Drew.  "Hey," he said, and stroked down Drew's cheek, along Drew's jaw.

        "I missed you."

        "We're together now, and fuck if I'm ever leaving you again."  He kissed Drew, licked past Drew's teeth, found Drew's tongue.  This was it, this was Drew, this gorgeous mouth against his, this gorgeous body under his hands.  Drew was so damned good-looking, this fuck-me suckable lower lip, this muscle-rippling body, and yes, button-fly jeans.  Nick could feel Drew's swollen erection pressing up against the buttons.  Hell yes.  He broke the kiss and listened to Drew pant for air and watched his very own fingers carefully unbuttoning Drew's jeans.  Button...by...button to free the trapped - - what?

        Oh.

        Yes.

        Damn.

        If that wasn't a sight.

        "Drew?" Brian asked, voice shaded with wonder and desire, "when did you start wearing briefs?"

        "Jeff made me.  He took me shopping and made me buy things."

        "Things?" Brian asked.  "What else?"

        "There's...the lubricant on the nightstand."

        Brian reached over, picked it up, read the label, sniffed it.  "He has good taste.  Anything else?  Drew?"

        "He bought a red G-string and I am never wearing it so don't even ask."

        "A red...  Where is it?"

        "I hid it.  Should have set it on fire."

        Nick was still staring.  Between the opened halves of Drew's fly, he could see the tight, white briefs, stretched over the proud bulge of Drew's erection.  He could see the head, right there, and the liquid stain of Drew's pre-cum.  "You're wearing these every day."

        "They're so tight," Drew said.

        "They wouldn't be if you weren't so hard," Brian said.

        "They wouldn't be if you weren't so hung," Nick added.  "God, I've missed this."  He slid down and leaned in to put his mouth to the taut cotton, kissing and licking and sucking at it, working his way over the fabric, listening to Drew's broken moans.  Brian was kissing Drew, then, and Nick wanted to make Drew come now, wanted to make Drew come in the briefs, wanted the hot sticky gush to make a wet pocket in Drew's underwear.  Maybe later.  Right now, he needed to fulfill Drew's wishes, and Drew had asked for his tongue on Drew's cock, nothing in the way.

        It was with a thrill of anticipation and a bit of reluctance that Nick tugged the briefs down, easing Drew's cock free.  He got Drew naked, then skimmed his hands up muscular thighs and spread Drew open for him.  Drew's balls were tight, and Drew's beautiful cock was throbbing and drooling, ready for him, wanting his mouth.

        It was just as he'd remembered.  Hard, impossibly hard, and hot.  Tight silk.  Eagerly responsive to attention, knowing what it wanted even when Drew was shy.  Nick licked all over the head of it, knowing what Drew wanted, knowing how sensitive Drew was.  He could do this all day, all night, just his tongue and Drew's cockhead.

        "Swallow him," Brian said above his head, in between kisses.

        He could do that.  Nick cracked his jaw and relaxed his throat.  He swallowed and swallowed and got it all in, all down, pulsing and spitting down his throat, hard and throbbing against his tongue, his lips kissing Drew's pubic hair.

        Welcome home.

        Howie was up and out of bed now, in sweatpants, on the phone.  Howie sat down beside him on the mattress again, still talking, so he touched Howie's hair, kissed one naked shoulder.

        "If Lance is coming, AJ will never go," Howie was saying.  "I know that we should invite both of them and let them work it out themselves, it's not up to us to decide, but if Lance comes AJ won't, and that's just - - no, but AJ's a lot closer to Brian and Nick, and if it's their party, he should be there.  I know it's AJ's decision, I'm just saying - - no, I know it's rude, I'm not saying don't invite Lance.  We can't invite everybody except Lance.  I just - - no, I know.  I know.  AJ's my best friend, and he's not going to be happy with Lance there.  Either he'll cause a scene and disrupt the whole party, or he won't come at all.  He has a right to - - okay.  Okay.  We'll invite everybody, and if they act like idiots, that's their problem."  Howie hung up the phone and tossed it aside on the bed, leaning back into Chris, who held onto him gratefully.  "AJ's such a jerk and Lance is such a..."

        "Lance is sorry.  AJ needs to grow up."

        "You don't do that to AJ McLean.  You don't do that to anybody."

        "He's sorry."

        "You think he'll come to the house-warming?"

        "He'll show up for Brian and Nick and Drew's sake, but he'll probably leave early.  You know, stop in early and say hi, then get going before anything gets started."

        "Lance has class."

        "Lance is mature."

        "You want to make love again?"

        "Yeah."

        Brian and Nick unpacked from the tour, unpacked from the move, familiarized themselves with their new home.  The rooms were spacious and still pretty new-looking.  Nick had a plan to get fucked in every room by Drew and by Brian, but they weren't too cooperative.  He adapted his plan, then, and settled for giving and receiving blow jobs.

        On the evening of the third day, the front doorbell rang.  Civilization?  There was a world beyond these walls?  Was this a snake for Nick's Eden, or - -

        "Jeff."

        "Hey, Nick."  Jeff kissed his cheek and moved into the foyer, followed by the other Nick, who looked a little scowly.  "Where's everybody?"

        Nick closed the door.  His cheek tingled.  "They're watching TV.  You look good."

        "We're going to a party."

        "Really?  Where?"

        "Here."

        "Here?"

        "House-warming party.  Boy band members only.  Starts in your living room in fifteen minutes."

        "We're having a party?"

        "We've taken care of the food and entertainment."

        Nick walked to the back room, where Brian and Drew were sitting half in each other's laps on the sofa, watching TV.  "Guys?"

        "Who is it?" Drew asked.

        "Jeff and Nick.  We're having a house-warming party here in fifteen minutes."

        "What?" Brian asked.  "We're having a party here?"

        "In fifteen minutes?" Drew asked.

        "Who's coming?"

        "Boy band members only."

        "Lock the door, keep them out," Brian said.  "Oh, okay, all right.  We'd better change clothes or something."

        "Whose bright idea was this?" Drew asked.

        "Mine," Jeff said from the doorway.

        "Are you wearing leather pants?" Drew asked.

        "Yeah."

        "Have you lost your mind?"

        "They don't look good?"

        "My house," Nick said, unable to keep his eyes from lingering, "is very warm."

        The door opened.  "It's JC and Mrs. JC!"

        "It's Mrs. Littrell Lachey," Justin said.

        "You know it.  Come on in."

        "Nice place," Justin said, impressed.  "What did it cost you?"

        "Got it for free.  That and a few blow jobs."

        "You're that good?"

        "What makes you think I gave them?"

        "Hey."

        "Nice, hunh?"

        "How'd you get him to wear that?"

        "I said if he didn't, I'd tell everybody he's hung like a - - oops."  Nick gave an unrepentant grin.

        "Is he?"

        "Is he what?"

        "Hung."

        "Like you wouldn't believe."

        "Brian looks good, too.  Damn.  Carter, where do you get these guys?"

        "They just come to me.  Guess I'm lucky."

        "Guess you are."

        "What about you?"

        "What about me?"

        "How's JC?"

        "Don't ask."

        "Something's wrong?  No, Jus, I'm serious.  Something's wrong?"

        Justin shrugged unhappily.  "He let me know where I stand."

        "Where is that?"

        "Either in his bed or on the street."

        "What's that supposed to mean?"

        "It means he doesn't want a husband, or a partner, or an equal.  He wants a guy in his bed, and lucky me, I'm the one he picked."

        "That's shit.  Where'd you get that idea?"

        "From him.  Can we not get into it?  This is supposed to be a party.  Happy house."

        "Okay.  Thanks.  Come on, I'll let you dance with Brian."

        "Brian can't dance."

        "Does that really matter?"

        Justin's eyes ran over the figure in question.  "Nope."

        Across the room, Chris was trying not to watch Howie.  Specifically, he was trying not to watch Howie's ass, which was waiting behind soft gray slacks.  Just an hour ago, one simple hour, he'd had his fingers in there, and Howie had come in his mouth, muscles fluttering around his fingers.  It was even better getting his cock in there, inside Howie, and it felt indescribably intense, but there also was a strong and complex emotional reaction that Chris couldn't really sort through just yet.

        "Are you a million miles away?"

        Chris blushed.  "Sort of," he told Kevin.

        "That's okay."

        "Chris.  Chris."  Joey came over to them.  "You know what's up with JC?"

        "What?" Chris asked.

        "That's what I'm asking you," Joey said.  "Justin's ignoring him, and he's got this whole attitude."

        "They're having a fight?"

        "I don't know.  Shit."

        "What?"

        "AJ's here."

        Sure enough, AJ had just entered the building.  He shook Drew's hand, removing his sunglasses, glancing around the open living room.  He let Brian come and steer him off in a direction opposite where Lance was standing.

        Justin Jeffre paused by Lance.  "Hey."

        "Hey," Lance said.  "Nice place."

        "Yeah, it is.  Do me a favor."

        "What?" Lance asked, surprised.

        "Don't run off just because he walked in the room."

        Lance paused, then asked, "Why not?"

        "Avoiding him won't make it any better.  I know it's none of my business.  I just don't want to see you two lose your relationship."

        "The relationship's lost.  It's gone."

        "Don't accept that."

        "Are you seeing anyone?"

        "No.  It makes me the perfect relationship expert."  Justin smiled.

        The other Justin was dancing with the host Nick.  They were dancing in a way that was appropriate only in old Patrick Swayze movies.  Brian and Drew exchanged a glance and let it go.  JC did not.  After the second song, JC was right by the dancing couple, reaching for Justin's arm.

        Justin, in a gesture that shocked every witness, moved away from JC.

        JC looked at him.

        "I'm dancing here.  Do you mind?" Justin asked.

        "Justin," Nick said.

        "Back off," JC said to Nick.

        "Backing," Nick said, and did just that, leaving them to their argument.

        "I'm going home," JC said.

        "Have fun," Justin said.

        "Come with me.  Please."

        "No."

        "Shit," Joey whispered.

        "Give me the keys," Justin said.

        "To what?"

        "The car.  So I can get home."

         "How am I supposed to get home?"

        "Call a cab."

        "It's my car!"  JC calmed himself.  "Justin-"

        "Don't touch me!  God damn it!  You're always touching me!"

        JC looked, quite suddenly, as though he'd been shot.  He went very still and very pale, eyes stricken.  There was a moment of silence when Justin's words echoed in everyone's mind.  Then JC said, softly, as though it were a struggle to get out the words, "I'm sorry."  And then Justin was standing alone in the middle of the floor.  Everyone heard the front door open, close.

        "Go after him," Chris told Justin.  "Go after him!  Somebody go after him!"

        "I'll take him home," Lance said, and left.

        "Nick?" Justin asked.

        "Yeah?" Nick asked, half concerned, half wary.

        "Where's the bathroom?"

        "Come on," Nick said, guiding him from the room.

        Moments later, Joey found Brian and Drew.  "Happy housewarming.  Justin just threw up in your hallway."

        And no sex.  No one licking his tongue, no one kissing his ear, no one stroking his sex.  He was used to JC's mouth, JC's touch, JC's lovemaking.  He wanted JC's cock in his ass, JC's cock in his mouth.  He wanted sex, sweating and straining and coming, his cock buried way deep inside JC, his cock pushing into JC's mouth.

        He was alone.  The only hand on his cock was his own.  There was no one to kiss his temple and whisper his name, no one to lick his balls and caress his biceps, no one to make him come or hold him into sleep.

        He'd vomited.  He'd wept.  Now he was alone, miserable, after the most pathetic, shameful orgasm of his life, staring through the darkness, thinking of JC.

        "It's AJ."

        "Hi."

        "You left the party."

        "I wanted to take JC home.  He shouldn't have been alone."

        "I'm alone."

        It sounded like an accusation.  Lance bit back an apology.  That wasn't what AJ wanted right now.

        "You bastard."

        Lance closed his eyes.

        "I hate you.  I hate you and I'm hard and I'm all alone and I refuse to come in my hand thinking about you.  I hate you."

        "I'm sorry," Lance whispered.

        "You know where I live?"

        "Yes."

        "Get your ass over here and get me off."

        "AJ-"

        "You owe me."

        "Not like that.  Not like this."

        "Then I'll find somebody else who-"

        "No!"  He knew that AJ would do it, and he didn't want that, AJ shouldn't do that.  "No.  Don't do that.  Please."

        "Are you coming?"

        "I'll...I'll be there."  Click.  Lance set the phone down slowly and rested his forehead on the pillow.  "I love you."  He had to get it out now, so he wouldn't say it in front of AJ.  Then he rolled out of bed and dressed in the darkness.

        There were no tear tracks on his cheeks.  His dick was soft.

        There was too much pain for a physical response.

        It wasn't much different, doing this now, making love with someone he'd betrayed, making love with someone who hated him.  AJ's body drew his desire just as strongly, and AJ's kisses were just as deep.  AJ had the same ticklish spots and erogenous zones as the last time they'd made love.  AJ still twisted quickly every time he gave the first push into AJ's body.  AJ still liked Lance's amateur blowjobs.

        Some things had changed.  They didn't talk beforehand, during, or afterward.  AJ fell asleep away from him, on the other side of the bed, not touching him.  Lance stayed anyway.  If he left, he didn't know if AJ would ever let him return.

        "Yeah."

        "Call me."

        "Yeah."

        "I mean it."

        "I will."  Justin squeezed Nick's hand half-heartedly.  "Thanks for letting me stay."

        "Thanks for throwing up in my new house."

        "Sorry."

        "Go.  Go.  Back where you belong."

        Justin left the house.  JC's car was still in the driveway.  When he got in, he found the keys waiting for him in the ignition.  JC must have done that on purpose, left them for him.

        He was shaking too badly to start the car at first.

        He procrastinated.  He dawdled.  He fastened his seatbelt, turned on the car, turned on the headlights, turned on the radio, turned off the radio, started the CD player, turned off the CD player, washed the windshield, clicked off the parking brake, clicked the parking brake on again, turned on the radio, switched the station, spent a good fifteen minutes playing with the radio, reprogrammed the clock just because he couldn't stand JC's habit of setting it five minutes fast, then reprogrammed it so that it was five minutes fast again, turned off the radio, turned on the CD player, adjusted the mirrors minutely, played with the power windows, pushed in the clutch, shifted into reverse, briefly considered putting the car into first gear and driving into the garage door, and backed down the driveway.

        He drove slowly, chewing on his lower lip, checking every few seconds in the mirror to make sure that he really wasn't crying.

        Then he was home.  He parked.  He got out of the car.  He went into the building, walked up the stairs carefully, inched down the hallway.

        Justin let himself into the apartment.  The chain hadn't been done, so either JC had left it that way so he could get in, or JC wasn't home.  He locked the door and walked through the apartment.  No JC, no JC, no JC, no JC - - JC.

        "What are you doing?"

        "Folding clothes."

        "You were doing laundry?"

        "It needed to be done."

        He'd been giving himself a nervous breakdown with an ulcer on the side, and JC was doing housework.  "I'm going to take a shower."

        JC nodded, sorting through socks.

        Justin left the room.