"Dream Come True"

Dream Come True

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Howie Dorough/Brian Littrell, also another couple but I don't want to ruin the mystery

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

banner by Vanessa

Water. The sound of water. Running water, rushing water, gushing water.

Crack! A sharp, sudden sound, like a slap, like a shot.

“Oh, shit.” A voice, a voice he knew, he knew that voice.

Brian sat beside him in the bus lounge, offering a bag of chips. “Want some?”

“Thanks.” Howie took a handful, turning a page in his magazine.

Brian’s knee bumped his. “Are you going out with Kevin and AJ later?”

Howie glanced at Brian. “Probably. What about you?”

“I don’t know.” Brian chewed. “Maybe.”

“Here you are.” Nick dropped down on Howie’s other side. “Should I call Kara?”

Howie looked at Brian, then back at Nick. “Who’s Kara?”

“You know, Kara.” Nick waited for that to sink in; Howie remained clueless. “I met her on Tuesday, she has red hair.”

“The model?” Brian asked.

“Right, Kara,” Nick said. “Should I call her?” he asked Howie.

Oh, her. “I don’t know,” Howie said. “Was she nice?”

Nick’s expression was impatient. “I don’t mean should I call her, I mean, you know, should I call her?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

“Do you realize that you’re using the exact same words to express completely different ideas?” Howie asked.

“You know what I mean,” Nick said. “Should I call her, cosmically?”

“I’d use the telephone,” Howie said. He was deliberately being difficult, because Nick’s question was ridiculous, and he liked to irritate Nick. Also, even after all of these years, he was still uncomfortable addressing anything “cosmic” in front of Brian.

“You know what I mean,” Nick said again. “Just tell me.”

“I don’t have anything to tell you,” Howie said. He couldn’t get information by flipping a switch. “I don’t know her, I’ve never even met her.”

“What’s going on?” AJ asked, moving around the bus.

“Howie won’t tell me what to do about Kara,” Nick said.

“Come on, D., help him out,” AJ said, opening the fridge.

Well, if AJ wanted him to advise Nick, he’d do his best. Howie pressed his palm to Nick’s forehead, closing his eyes, lowering his chin to his chest, breathing deeply. Nick felt very still beside him. Inhaling sharply, Howie fluttered his lashes. His fingers tensed against Nick’s skin; his head snapped back suddenly, mouth opening. He counted to eight, then dropped his hand, eyes popping open.

“What?” Nick asked, breathless. “What’d you see? What happened?”

“Call her,” Howie said, keeping his voice slow, eyes searching the air for clues. “Call her within the next two hours. Ask her to go out with you tomorrow night.”

“I’m going to get laid, right?” Nick asked.

“Yes,” Howie said. He paused. “She likes it doggystyle.”

“Oh, man. Thanks, Howie!” Nick kissed his temple and ran off.

Howie picked up his magazine again.

“Nice performance,” AJ said, wandering closer with a skeptical, amused expression. “The doggystyle thing was a little too much, but the rest of it was good work.”

Howie refused to feel guilty for teasing Nick. He’d explained to Nick several hundred times that he couldn’t do anything on command like that, but Nick refused to accept reality. “Thanks.” He found his page as AJ wandered off again.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Brian’s voice was quiet, for his ears only. Howie looked at Brian and saw the disappointed, disapproving expression he’d expected. “Nick knows that wasn’t real,” Howie said. Deep down, Nick had to know. Didn’t he?

“You shouldn’t let him use that to make his decisions for him,” Brian said. “It’s not right to use it like that. It’s not your place to-”

Howie didn’t want to have this argument again. “He asked me for advice.”

“It’s not something you should play with,” Brian said. “That’s not safe.”

Brian didn’t know the origins of Howie’s sight, and therefore didn’t trust it and would have preferred if Howie refused to use or even acknowledge it. Howie didn’t know the origins either, but fearing the sight or fighting against it had never worked. But Brian disapproved of his gift on any terms. Whether Howie shared genuine insight, or whether he faked it for Nick, that expression was still on Brian’s face. “I thought that we agreed to disagree.”

Anger flashed, but Brian took a deep breath. “You’re right. We did.”

“He likes her,” Howie said. Maybe if he explained why he’d done it, Brian would understand, this once. “He’s really into her, but she was there with another guy, and he needed a little boost in confidence to ask her out.”

“What if she turns him down?” Brian asked. “Then what?”

“Nick’s been rejected before,” Howie said.

“You can’t play with something like this,” Brian insisted. “It’s dangerous.”

Damn it. Why was Brian so damned judgmental? “I’m not dangerous,” Howie said, keeping his voice low, not wanting to broadcast their discussion.

“I know you’re not dangerous.” Now Brian was offended, which bugged the shit out of Howie; if either one of them took offense during this argument, shouldn’t he have been the one? “I never said that you were dangerous. I only-”

“Never mind,” Howie said, cutting him off. They’d traveled this ground too many times, and it only caused more trouble. Brian found Howie’s gift damned near unacceptable, but Howie couldn’t exactly turn it off, so they ended up in regular conflict. They tried to avoid the subject, but it always cropped up again, leaving them frustrated on a good day, completely alienated on a bad day. “I won’t do it again.” He would; he always did, because teasing Nick was too much fun. But for the next few weeks, he’d keep quiet, especially around Brian. It was a regular pattern for them. They’d have a fight, he’d pretend that his gift didn’t exist for a while, it would come up one way or another, after a few occurrences Brian would say something, they’d be tense for a while, a fight would erupt, and the cycle would flow.

“I just want you to be careful,” Brian said.

Brian sounded more worried than judgmental now, but it was too late. “Thanks for the chips,” Howie said, getting up and leaving Brian there alone.

Howie hated fighting with Brian. Truth be told, he hated fighting with anyone, but he especially hated fighting with Brian. Brian was an amazing person, both utterly simple and incredibly complex, extremely talented and a loyal friend. Brian had ups and downs like anyone else, but when Brian was in a good mood, it was impossible for Howie not to smile.

Any friction between the two of them spread tension over the whole group, and Howie hated that, too. When he and Brian weren’t getting along, the others picked up on it immediately. AJ was used to it, Kevin had stopped trying to fix it long ago, but it always bothered Nick.

Howie wished that he and Brian could find a way to compromise. But what could he do? Pretend that he didn’t have prophetic dreams? Pretend that he didn’t see things other people couldn’t? Ignore his gift? Turn a blind eye to his own sight? He’d tried not talking about it, he’d tried not to say a word, and he’d succeeded for long stretches of time. But inevitably, something popped out, something came up, and that look would cross Brian’s face again.

He couldn’t change himself, and he couldn’t change Brian’s hang-ups or beliefs. He didn’t want to change everything Brian believed; he just wanted Brian to accept all of him, even the parts Brian didn’t like. Was that too much to ask?

Water. The sound of water. Running water, rushing water, gushing water.

Crack! A sharp, sudden sound, like a slap, like a shot.

“Oh, shit.” A voice, a voice he knew, he knew that voice.

Howie never saw anything worth making a movie out of. It wasn’t like he witnessed murders before they happened; he couldn’t locate lost children. He just knew who was calling before the phone rang, he found himself reaching for the fire extinguisher before the toaster went up in flames, that sort of thing. He tried not to use his sight for personal gain, but he suspected that subconsciously it influenced how he invested his money.

It had taken him a while to realize what was really happening. At first, he’d marked it down to coincidence. Then his dreams had begun to come true. Literally.

He’d told only his closest, immediate family members. And the group.

AJ hadn’t even blinked.

Kevin had been skeptical at first, but eventually came to accept it as just another part of who Howie was.

Nick remained fascinated, years later.

Brian just couldn’t accept it. Absolutely couldn’t agree with it. They were great friends in every other way, they loved each other, they couldn’t have been closer. Except for this one thing that neither one of them could change.

The four of them were grouped around the breakfast table when Nick came in, slinging his arm around Howie’s shoulders. “You were right about Kara.”

“Good date?” AJ asked, picking up orange juice.

Nick’s grin was priceless. “She loves it doggystyle.”

“Well, good for her,” AJ said.

Howie felt Brian’s gaze on him, but avoided looking in that direction. “I’m glad you had a good time,” he said, ducking out from under Nick’s arm so he could reach the yogurt.

“Experience, lucky guess, or…?” Kevin asked, more discreet than Nick with other people passing by.

“He knew,” Nick said. “He knew! He saw it! He - - hey,” Nick said, and gave Howie a lecherous grin. “How did you know? Did you have a vision of me giving it to her, or what?”

“Nicky,” Howie said, opening his yogurt, “that’s the most disgusting image ever. I don’t need that in my head.” Finding a spoon, he told Kevin, “It was an educated guess. I know the kinds of girls he’s into.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nick asked.

Juice, flowing, spilling, spreading, an orange puddle, dripping. Howie reached for a pile of napkins. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“How messy are you?” Nick asked, as Howie began to spread napkins.

“I’m not,” Howie said.

“Shit!” AJ tried to right his cup in time, but it fell regardless, spilling orange juice across Howie’s carpet of napkins. “Shit.”

“Wow,” Nick said, and looked at Howie, impressed. “Why didn’t you just tell him not to knock it over?”

“I didn’t know who was going to do it or when,” Howie said. He only got so much information at once, and sometimes trying to determine the exact context for it drove him crazy.

“If something’s fated to happen, it’s not a good idea to try to prevent it,” Brian said. He was answering Nick’s question, but he was talking to Howie.

And that, right there, was another reason that Howie hadn’t said anything beforehand: because he hadn’t wanted to deal with Brian’s disapproval.

“Even orange juice has a destiny,” AJ said, gathering up the napkins and going to find a trash can.

“Maybe AJ wasn’t destined to spill it,” Nick said. “Maybe Howie was supposed to prevent it. Maybe that’s why he was told it would happen ahead of time.”

“I just wanted to prevent a bigger mess,” Howie said. To anyone else, it looked like orange juice; for Brian, it stood for something much larger, and Howie understood that. But he didn’t want to have an argument over predestination this early in the morning.

“Sometimes preventing one mess causes another one,” Brian said. The displeased, judgmental look that Brian was giving him made Howie’s jaw clench. He shouldn’t have done anything. He should have let the orange juice flood the table. It wasn’t worth it. It just wasn’t worth it. What was spilled juice compared to Brian’s disapproval? To that expression on Brian’s face? To that tone in Brian’s voice? He couldn’t stand having Brian treat him like he’d done something wrong, like he was taking a terrible road. He just wanted to be himself. He just wanted to be Brian’s friend.

Sometimes, he thought it was amazing that their friendship was as strong as it was, considering how Brian felt about his sight. Then again, their bond was so profound, this one point of conflict wouldn’t separate them.

Would it?

Flesh. Hands gripping flesh. Skin against skin.

“Howie.”

Dark on light. Dark-

“Howie.”

Howie jerked awake, eyes open wide. “What?” he asked, startled from sleep.

“Five minutes,” Kevin said. With a slow look, Kevin asked, “What were you dreaming about?”

“I don’t know.” Sitting up straighter, Howie touched his hair with a careful hand to make sure he hadn’t ruined the stylist’s work.

Kevin sat beside him, stretching out long legs. “Did it seem important?”

“Yeah.” Kevin took his sight seriously, and was always open to it and respectful of it. Nick was a little too excitable on the subject, but Howie found it validating and even helpful to talk to Kevin or AJ about his gift, especially when he couldn’t puzzle out what a dream meant. He also liked the fact that if he didn’t feel like talking about it, they let it go.

“The water one again?”

“No. Something different.” He’d had the water dream off and on for years, ever since he’d realized that he was getting up to answer the door before the bell rang. Sometimes he dreamt about the water twice in one week; sometimes it was months apart. It was the only dream that hadn’t come true, the only one he couldn’t get rid of. “This was about…skin.”

“Skin?” Kevin asked. “What kind of skin?”

“I don’t know.” The dream was fading. He decided to let it go; if it wanted his attention, it would come back later.

They had a few hours to themselves, and Howie decided to go shopping. Brian came along, and maybe it was just an honest desire to buy clothes on Brian’s part, but Howie took it as a gesture of sorts.

He bought a shirt, and Brian bought some pants, and they picked up a hat that they agreed AJ had to have. They argued over a shirt that Howie thought did amazing things to Brian’s skin tone and turned Brian’s eyes into a startlingly clear crystal blue, and Brian thought was “just gosh darn ugly.” Howie bought it for him anyway.

They walked down the street, flanked by security, talking over whether to go back to the hotel or try one more store, when Howie got the strangest feeling. Everything slowed down and narrowed in. He was looking into Brian’s eyes, and he could see Brian’s mouth moving, but he didn’t hear the words that Brian was saying. He heard Brian screaming. A terrible chill passed through Howie’s body, raising gooseflesh over his arms.

“Howie.” Brian looked concerned, and Howie realized that they’d stopped walking. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” What had that been? “I’m fine.” Taking a calming breath, Howie decided to keep going like nothing had happened. If he’d been with one of the other guys, he might have said something, but Brian wasn’t exactly a receptive audience. “Let’s try the place on the next block.” He’d rather go back to the hotel, now, but he wasn’t going to let Brian suspect anything.

“Okay.” Brian gave him one last hesitant look, then started on again.

Howie took two steps, but something inside resisted. Two more steps, and he found himself reaching for Brian’s arm, stopping Brian short. “Wait.” He was breathing too hard, without knowing why.

“What?” Brian asked, worry and impatience warring for supremacy of his expression.

“Just wait.” He didn’t know what was wrong, he just knew that he didn’t want to-

The terrible squeal of brakes, and Howie braced himself for - - impact! Mere feet away from them, right there in the intersection they’d been about to cross, in the intersection they would have been in the middle of if Howie hadn’t stopped, an SUV slammed into a sedan with a horrible crunch.

Security instinctively closed in around them, but Howie had to look, needed to. He craned to see around one thick arm, and there it was. Twisted metal. Shattered glass. His heart pounded with fear. So close, they’d been so close, too close, what if he hadn’t stopped, what if he hadn’t felt it, what if he’d ignored his instincts, what if…

Slowly, he turned his gaze.

Brian stared at him with wide, scared eyes.

Afraid of a brush with death?

Afraid of him?

Howie released Brian’s arm from his grasp.

By that evening, the other guys knew that Howie and Brian had witnessed an accident. Howie didn’t want to talk about it, because he wasn’t sure what Brian thought of what had happened, but Nick peppered them with questions: what kinds of cars had been involved, how close had they been, how bad had it been, had anyone been hurt, could they have been hurt.

“Shouldn’t ESP tell you if you’re about to be hit by a car?” Nick asked. “Not that you were hit, but you could have been. Shouldn’t it warn you, hey, danger ahead?”

“It did.”

Howie looked at Brian, startled. He’d been on the verge of figuring out how to answer Nick’s question without lying but also without admitting the full truth. He hadn’t expected Brian to acknowledge what he’d done in so many words. And, to be honest, he hadn’t been one hundred percent sure that Brian had realized what he’d done.

Brian looked right back at him. “Didn’t it?” It was more than a simple question, but less than an accusation. Brian suspected him. Was challenging him.

“You knew there was going to be an accident?” Nick asked with great interest, sitting beside him. “Did you see it before it happened?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Howie said, maintaining Brian’s gaze. “I didn’t know what was going to happen, I just couldn’t keep walking.”

“You knew something was going to happen,” Brian said. “You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. You pulled me back.”

“You pulled him back?” Nick demanded, staring. “You mean Brian could have-”

“I didn’t know,” Howie said. He didn’t want Nick to say that out loud. “I just felt… I had to stop.”

“Damn.” Nick stared at Brian now. “You owe Howie your life.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Howie said. There was no way that would go over well. “He doesn’t owe me anything, that’s ridiculous.”

“I owe you a lot,” Brian said.

“No, you don’t,” Howie said. He couldn’t read Brian’s expression, and that made him uneasy.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” Brian said. “None of us would. We wouldn’t be Backstreet without you.”

It was a simple point, but there was something so serious in Brian’s eyes, something so important about the softness of Brian’s voice, that Howie felt…felt…

“Duh,” Nick said.

Howie smiled, moved by Brian and amused by Nick, lowering his eyes, breaking the lock of their gazes.

“And, you wouldn’t be here without him because he just saved your life,” Nick said.

Howie didn’t know if he wanted that kind of responsibility. What if next time, he ignored his instincts? What if next time, he didn’t feel any urgent signals? What if next time, something bad happened? If he took credit for the good times, did he have to accept blame for the bad times?

Everyone slept as the bus traveled through the night. Howie slid out of his bunk, waking from a perfectly normal dream, wondering if that pizza was still in the fridge.

As he heated the pizza, tiredly rubbing his eyes and not letting any thoughts break his exhausted haze, Howie heard his name. Turning, he saw Brian, sleep-rumpled and hesitant.

“What are you doing up?” he asked.

“I have to pee.” Brian came closer. “And I wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” Then his brain kicked in. Oh. “You don’t have to. You would have done the same thing for me.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to,” Brian said. “If it had been up to me, it… Things would have gone differently.”

Did this mean that now Brian would respect his gift? Or was Howie hoping for too much? “I’m just glad that you’re all right.”

“That we’re all right,” Brian said.

“Right.” His body was bracing itself for something, but he didn’t know what.

Brian hugged him.

That was what. Howie closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Brian. This wasn’t a quick, low-contact, back-pat kind of hug; this was a hug that replaced words, a middle of the night, no witnesses, full-contact embrace. Howie felt Brian’s body against his from shoulder the whole way down to knee. Brian was warm from sleep, and smelled like soap and sweat and powder, and since Brian was wearing a tank top his shoulders were bare and his skin was so smooth, like pure silk…

“Thank you,” Brian whispered. His voice was soft, and his accent sounded like home, and that made no sense at all.

“I love you,” Howie said. He wouldn’t have any idea of how to go on if anything ever happened to Brian.

“I love you,” Brian said.

It was probably time to let go.

In another few seconds.

In another couple of minutes.

“I really have to pee,” Brian said.

Howie laughed, opening his arms. “Not on me.”

Brian smiled at him, running quick fingers through his hair a few times, first his bangs, then to one side, then back at his nape. “You look crazy.”

“I was asleep,” Howie said in self-defense, putting his hands to his head.

“Don’t give yourself nightmares.” After giving him another smile, Brian left him for the toilet.

Howie slid his fingers into his hair, touching the same spot on his scalp that Brian’s fingers had brushed.

Flesh. Hands gripping flesh. Skin against skin.

Dark on light. Dark, dark…

Muscle. Moving bodies. Motion.

A head tilted back, neck exposed.

“You sure you’re all right?” Kevin asked, buttoning his shirt.

“I’m fine.” Seated on the bed, Howie reached for a bottle of water.

“It bothers you,” Kevin said.

“It’s just so vivid.” Some dreams were minor, seemingly random, and when they came true it felt like deja vu, nothing important. Some dreams marked more significant events. This one seemed…alive. “It’s intense.”

“They’re people you know?” Kevin asked.

“I don’t know.” Howie twisted the cap, frustrated. “If I could get a good look at his face...”

“You don’t think they’re fighting?” Kevin asked, sitting down to put on his shoes.

“I don’t know what they’re doing.” Fighting? Having sex? Wrestling? He didn’t waken scared or aroused, just disoriented.

“One of them could be you,” Kevin said.

“I thought about that. It doesn’t seem like me, but I don’t know.” For all its intensity while he was asleep, the dream faded quickly when he wakened, and the more consideration he gave it, the less he was sure of. He thought that it was two men, but he could second-guess that assumption, too.

“You can come with us,” Kevin offered again, slipping on a bracelet.

“No, thanks, I just want to stay in tonight.” Howie took a drink. “Tell the driver to avoid the construction on Pine or you’ll be late. And get AJ something to eat on the way there or he’ll complain about how hungry he is the whole way through the show.” He stopped talking, not sure where that had come from.

“Okay,” Kevin said, completely at ease. “Thanks. See you later.”

“Bye,” Howie said, grateful as always for Kevin’s casual acceptance.

Kevin opened the door, stepping into the hallway. As the door closed, Howie heard, “AJ, let’s go! We only have twenty-five minutes and we have to hit a drive-through on the way!”

“Go over our schedule again,” Nick said. “Not the whole thing,” he said, as Kevin’s mouth opened. “Just the part about Thursday night.”

“Thursday night is the Richfield Awards,” Kevin said.

“Very oo-la-la,” AJ said.

“Oo-la-la,” Brian agreed, with an “oooh, fancy” smile that made Howie smile, too.

“Oh, that,” Nick said. “Yeah. Are we getting anything?”

“They don’t announce the winners ahead of time,” Howie said.

“They should,” Nick said. “It would save us the trouble of showing up.”

“He has a point,” AJ said.

“No, he doesn’t,” Kevin said.

“We could get album of the year,” Brian said. “That would be nice.”

“Album of the year?” Nick asked.

“Do you listen during our meetings?” Howie asked, curious. “Or do you just show up and silently hum to yourself until they’re over?”

“How do you silently hum to yourself?” Nick asked.

“Like this,” Brian said, and sat still.

Everyone waited.

“See?” Brian asked, apparently finished. Howie laughed.

“You’re so stupid,” Nick said to Brian, grinning.

“The shindigs after the oo-la-la should be good,” AJ said.

“We should go,” Kevin said.

“Yeah,” Nick said. “We should go. Who’s going to be there?”

“We’ll be there,” Brian said. “Aren’t we enough fun for you?”

“Sometimes you’re a little too much fun,” Nick said.

“I think I’m just the right amount of fun,” Brian said. “Don’t you think so?” he asked the rest of them, batting his lashes.

“Just the right amount,” Howie agreed with a smile.

Flesh. Hands gripping flesh. Skin against skin.

Dark on light. Dark, dark…

Muscle. Moving bodies. Motion.

A head tilted back, neck exposed.

Sinuous movement. Flexing. Rolling. Hands over flesh. Skin on skin. Dark…

“You’ve been quiet,” Kevin said, as Howie finished dressing.

“Just thinking.” He adjusted his shirt, checking the mirror. Kevin was still there, and he wanted to get someone’s opinion, so he forged ahead, turning to face Kevin. “I don’t know if this means anything or not, but I’ve had more dreams than usual. More dreams, more…everything. All month, it’s been one thing after another. Every day there’s something.”

“Maybe you’re maturing,” Kevin said.

“It’s a little late for that,” Howie said. He’d physically matured long ago, and he was probably about as emotionally mature as he was going to get. “Am I getting any taller?”

“I meant…” Kevin studied him. “Maybe you’re becoming more aware. More practiced.”

“Okay, but why?” Maybe there was no reason. There seemed to have been no reason for him to have this gift in the first place, so why would there be a reason that it was growing stronger?

“I don’t know. Is it changing in any other way? Are you seeing anything different from usual? Dreaming about anything darker or larger or farther into the future?”

“I don’t think so.” Those weren’t bad questions, though. “It doesn’t seem to be getting any darker, or grander. There’s just more of it.”

Kevin considered that, and nodded. “It doesn’t sound like anything you should worry about. Just be aware of it, pay attention in case anything more unusual happens.”

He didn’t necessarily need to say this to Kevin, but, “I’d rather keep this between us.”

“Brian’s worried about you.”

Surprised, Howie replayed that sentence in his head to make sure that he’d heard it correctly. “Why?”

“He can tell when you’re dreaming something prophetic,” Kevin said. “He says you look different. You just look asleep to me, but he says there’s something about the look on your face and the way you curl up.”

That was crazy. “How can he tell?”

“You’ve been clairvoyant for years,” Kevin said. “Maybe that was enough time for him to figure it out. Maybe he pays more attention to what you look like when you’re sleeping than I do.”

Absolutely insane. “There’s no way he knows whether I’m dreaming about the future or the past or dead snails.”

“He says he knows,” Kevin said. “And he noticed that you’re having prophetic dreams more often lately.”

Brian had noticed that? “And he wants me to stop,” Howie guessed.

“He wanted to know if you’d told me what they were about,” Kevin said.

“He what?” Brian was losing it. Wait, “He can’t go around asking you - - he can’t dig around-” After all of these years of fighting about it, there had to be something sinister behind Brian’s sudden interest. Well, not sinister, maybe that was too strong a word, but Howie still didn’t like it.

“He didn’t want to ask you, because the two of you have had so much conflict over it,” Kevin said.

Howie thought about it. To be honest, that sounded fair. “What did you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Kevin said. “They’re your dreams, so they’re yours to share, not mine. But if you want to talk to him, now sounds like a good time.”

It was worth a shot. If this was an opportunity to talk to Brian while Brian was inquisitive and receptive, he had to grab the chance. “Why exactly is he worried about me?”

“He doesn’t know what your dreams are about,” Kevin said. “He’s worried that they could be upsetting or disturbing.”

They usually weren’t, not really. Preoccupying, because he wanted to figure out what they meant. But they didn’t upset him. “I’ll talk to him.”

“Good,” Kevin said. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Brian was worried about him.

Brian cared. Even when it came to this subject.

Wednesday, Howie couldn’t find a moment alone with Brian. Finally, when everyone else was asleep, he eased aside the curtain to Brian’s bunk, slipping a hand in and touching Brian’s shoulder. “Brian,” he whispered.

Brian rolled over, making an inarticulate sound.

“Brian,” Howie repeated, rubbing his shoulder. “I want to talk to you.”

Gradually, Brian’s eyes opened. “What?” he asked, licking his lips.

“I want to talk to you,” Howie said. “It won’t take long.”

“Okay.” Scratching his head, Brian crawled out as Howie backed up to give him room. “What are we talking about?”

“Me, mostly,” Howie said. He sat in the lounge; Brian sat beside him, blinking to stay awake. “I haven’t told everyone this, and I don’t know if it’s even important, but I’ve been having a lot more dreams lately. I’ve had…flashes more often.” He never knew which terms to use regarding his sight, especially around Brian.

“Psychic flashes,” Brian said.

“Yes.” Howie watched Brian to gauge his response.

“What do you dream about?” Brian’s tone was cautious, his eyes curious but wary.

“Different things,” Howie said. “Water.” He’d had that dream for so long, everyone who knew about his gift knew about that dream. “The other night I dreamt about Nick dropping that cake on AJ’s foot.”

“You dreamt about that?” Brian asked, surprised.

“Lately, I’ve been dreaming a lot about…” He wasn’t sure how to describe it to Brian. “It’s skin, mostly. I think it’s two bodies, moving together.”

“What do you mean?” Brian asked. “Dancing?”

“I don’t know what they’re doing,” Howie said. “All I remember when I wake up is a lot of flesh, and there’s this very intense feeling. Like I say, I don’t know who they are or what they’re doing or when it’s going to happen. There’s no context whatsoever.”

“Do you have one of those dreams every time you fall asleep?” Brian asked. “Every time I see you sleeping, here on the bus, in the dressing room, in the green room, you look like you’re having one.”

“It’s been almost every time, lately,” Howie admitted. “How can you tell if I’m having a regular dream or a non-regular dream?” As long as Brian had brought it up, he had to ask. It didn’t seem possible that Brian would know just by looking at him.

“You hug yourself tighter,” Brian said. “And you do this thing with your face, this,” and he made the cutest possible concentrating face. “Your nose wrinkles and your eyebrows come together, like you’re frowning and confused and agreeing all at once.”

“You’re sure?” Howie asked.

“I’ve known you for half of my life,” Brian said. “I think I know what you look like when you’re sleeping like normal and when you’re having a visionary dream.”

Howie was compelled to point out, “Kevin doesn’t.”

Brian shrugged, smiling. “Maybe Kevin has better things to do than watch you sleep.”

Howie smiled back. “Don’t you?”

Laughing, Brian said, “I guess I don’t.”

Did this conversation mean that Brian could be more approachable and more open-minded when it came to Howie’s sight? “If you ever have questions about my dreams, or my flashes, or anything else, you can ask me. I know we haven’t always agreed on this, but you can still talk to me about it.”

“I don’t want to start another fight,” Brian said. “I hate fighting with you, and I had questions, but I didn’t want to risk it.”

“I hate fighting with you, too,” Howie admitted.

“Does it ever scare you?” Brian asked.

“Not really,” Howie said. “At first, in the beginning, I was worried about what was happening to me, and I was worried that it would get worse or take a weird turn. And then I was worried about people finding out and ‘BSB ESP’ headlines and stuff like that. But now it’s just…part of my life, part of who I am.” He wondered… “Does it scare you?”

Brian avoided Howie’s gaze for a moment, but when their eyes met, Brian’s expression was open and honest. “It did, especially at first. I didn’t know what it meant, or where it came from, or what it might do. It’s not something that I understand. I struggled with it, and I prayed on it, but I couldn’t trust it. I saw Kevin accept it, and I tried to follow his lead, but Kevin’s more open-minded than I am.”

“It’s nice of you to admit that,” Howie said with a small smile.

“Hush and let me finish,” Brian said, returning Howie’s smile. He marshaled his thoughts. “I just decided that it was something I couldn’t embrace, and I stopped there. And I stayed there for a long time. But then, that accident, coming so close… You’re my best friend,” Brian said, his gaze earnest and focused, “and you saved my life, and how can I not welcome that?”

This was what it felt like. This was what it felt like to be accepted by Brian, to be welcomed in by Brian, to, god, how long had he waited for this? He felt warm, he felt lit up from the inside out, he felt loved. He didn’t want to say it, he couldn’t say it, he’d already said it once recently and he couldn’t just announce it every week, but the words came out anyway. “I love you.”

Brian’s embrace was physical as well as emotional now, close and firm, and it felt so good Howie’s eyes closed. “I love you,” Brian said. It had been true the last time that Brian had said it, but this time it felt complete. Brian’s hand rubbed up and down his spine. He stopped himself from arching into Brian’s touch at the last second. He was beginning to enjoy their hug too much, which meant that it was time to stop.

            Howie let go, sitting back. He needed something to say. “If you want to go back to sleep now, you can.”

            “Okay.” Brian made no move to leave. “What’s come to you while you were awake? The psychic flashes.”

            “I knew that Tina was going to walk into the room before she did today,” Howie said. “Nothing too exciting. I saw Nick falling over right before his ass hit the stage, but I didn’t have enough time to stop him.”

            Brian laughed.

            Howie loved it when Brian laughed. The sound of it. The crinkle and sparkle of Brian’s eyes. That smile. Brian…

Thursday was a busy day. Nothing unusual there. They stopped by the hotel before the awards show to change clothes. Brian came into Howie’s room to borrow socks.

“You can take some from my suitcase,” Howie said, pulling on his shirt.

“Hey, Howie,” Nick said, coming into his room. “Are we going to win tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Howie said, mentally crossing his fingers that Brian just for once wouldn’t take offense. “I hope so.” This was his first test of how much the previous night’s conversation had really meant. If Brian didn’t react and didn’t mind, that would be great. If Brian had that look again, then last night had been pointless. Howie was afraid to glance over at Brian and found out, so he changed shirts as an avoidance tactic.

“Yeah, but can’t you figure it out?” Nick asked.

“That’s not how it works,” Howie said. He didn’t know why he bothered; Nick hadn’t believed him on that point yet.

“Just try,” Nick said. “Close your eyes and concentrate or something.”

“Nick,” Brian said, taking a seat on Howie’s bed, “you’ll find out whether we won or not in another couple of hours.”

Howie braved a glance. Brian was putting on socks like he was engaged in normal conversation, relaxed, his expression calm. He smoothed one sock up his calf and wiggled his toes.

Exhaling, Howie felt weight lift. He’d never made reference to his sight without risking Brian’s disapproval or worse. Now, this discussion was a non-event. It was wonderful. Moved by Brian’s acceptance, grateful, Howie wanted to mark this moment. Remember it. Commemorate it somehow.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Nick asked.

“Getting socks,” Brian said, moving on to his other foot.

Nick gave Howie and then Brian an odd look. “Don’t you have socks?”

“I like Howie’s.” Brian hopped down from the bed, standing and looking down at his feet. “They’re nicer than mine.”

“They’re socks,” Nick said, as if reminding him of an important fact. “And I can’t even see them.”

Brian hiked up his pant legs and grinned at Howie. “Very nice.”

“Very nice,” Howie agreed. He liked Brian’s calves. Brian’s ankles. Brian’s toes. The arches of Brian’s feet. The way Brian was smiling at him.

He smiled back.

They didn’t win.

Nick decided that the first after-party sucked and dragged them to another one. The second one had more attractive women and a better bar, so Nick decided to stay.

Howie milled around, meeting people, dancing a little, flirting. Brian brought him a drink, and he introduced Brian to the people he was talking with, and the beauty of Brian’s strong features was fascinatingly enhanced by the constantly changing lights.

As Howie and Brian moved through the party, AJ and Kevin found them. “We’re about to go,” AJ said.

“You’re not having a good time?” Brian asked.

“We’re passing out on our feet,” AJ said.

“The party’s great, but I’m too tired to enjoy myself,” Kevin said.

Something was… The room was… Spinning…

“Okay,” Brian said. “We’ll-”

Flesh. Hands gripping flesh. Skin against skin.

Dark on light. Dark, dark…

Muscle. Moving bodies. Motion.

A head tilted back, neck exposed.

Sinuous movement. Flexing. Rolling. Hands over flesh. Skin on skin. Dark…

Dark marks. Dark marks. Ink. Ink on flesh. Marked flesh. Tattoos.

Dark hair. Dark lashes. Dark eyes.

Intense need, intense lust, intense passion, intense desire, intense love.

“Wait,” Howie said, locking one hand around AJ’s wrist.

Flesh. Hands gripping flesh. Skin against skin.

Erotic. Powerful. Intense. Carnal.

Body moving against body. Flexing. Rolling. Rocking. Naked flesh pressed to naked flesh. AJ’s hands, tipped with black painted fingernails, slid over a man’s body, exploring detailed musculature. A slender body, heated, sweat-slick, flexible. AJ’s dark thumbnail flicked a nipple, and a head tilted back, neck exposed. Sweat pooled in the hollow of a collarbone. AJ lapped it up. There was a necklace around that throat, a lion, a Leo, and AJ kissed JC, his-

“JC,” Howie said, slamming himself back into the present. “JC Chasez, he’s here, where is he?” AJ, Kevin, and Brian stared at him with different degrees of bewilderment. “Where’s JC?” Howie asked, trying not to shout it, not wanting to cause a scene but absolutely sure that they had to find JC in the next five seconds.

Three heads swiveled in different directions. Kevin, able to see over the crowd better than Brian or AJ, located him first. “He’s over there.”

“What’s wrong?” Brian asked, concerned. “Is he in trouble?”

“Go talk to him,” Howie said to AJ, convinced down to his bones that AJ absolutely had to be face-to-face with JC at that moment. “Go, go now.” He let go of AJ’s wrist, pushing at AJ’s arm to get AJ to move. “Now,” he insisted, keeping his voice down but staring at AJ to get his message across.

AJ opened his mouth.

“Go,” Kevin said, giving him a nudge.

AJ went.

“What’s wrong?” Brian asked, putting himself into Howie’s field of vision. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.” So intense, so vibrant, so real… Howie rubbed his temple, closing his eyes.

Hands. JC’s hands on AJ’s body. JC-

A hand on his arm. “Howie.”

Howie opened his eyes, staring at Brian, finding sudden breath.

“Are you okay?” Brian asked. “Is there anything I can do?”

Real concern, true empathy. From Brian. Such a gift.

“Howie,” Kevin said, from somewhere to the side of his direct line of sight. All Howie saw was Brian.

“Do you want to sit down?” Brian asked.

“No,” Howie said, pulling himself together. He’d never had such a vivid vision, never seen anything that alive and detailed outside of a dream. And it had seemed to last so long… “No, I’m okay. It’s okay, it’s just… I think I should go back to the hotel.”

“Okay,” Brian said, latching onto that as a plan of action.

“I’ll go tell Nick we’re leaving,” Kevin said.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Brian asked.

Howie had Brian’s support. “I am now.”

After they reached the hotel, Kevin reassured himself that Howie was fine, then made himself scarce.

Brian bustled around shooing Howie into bed, then sat beside him once he was settled in. “What did you see?”

Did he really want to describe all of that to Brian? “Those two bodies I told you about. They’re AJ and JC.”

“The skin?” Brian asked. “What were they…” Brian stopped talking. “Oh.” He thought about it. Curiosity lit his eyes. “AJ and JC?”

“It was stronger than any other…vision I’ve had before,” Howie said.

“Maybe while this gets more frequent, it’ll be stronger, too,” Brian said.

“Maybe.” As long as it didn’t happen while he was onstage or driving, he’d be okay.

“AJ hasn’t been with a guy in a long time,” Brian said. “We’ve known JC for years. Why do you think it’s going to happen now? Why them?”

“I don’t know.” Howie wished that this particular gift came with instruction manuals.

Brian’s fingers brushed his hair back. “You look tired.”

That felt good. “I love the way you look.” God, he really was tired if he was letting those words slip out.

“I love the way you look, too.” Brian’s voice was casual, amused, teasing, but the caress of Brian’s fingers down the side of Howie’s face told the truth.

“You can stay,” Howie said. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. Now Brian had to respond. If he hadn’t said anything, Brian could have lingered casually, but now he’d drawn attention to it, and maybe that would scare Brian away.

“I might hang out for a little while,” Brian said.

They were friends again. Close again. Closer than ever before. Howie felt his eyes drifting shut, and struggled to open them again, because Brian was seated on his bed right beside him, and looking at him, and touching him, and it was…was…

Flame. Candle flame. Candlelight. Candlelight playing over skin. Flickering. Light and shadow.

Black painted fingernails dragging slowly, lightly, up JC’s thigh.

JC’s softly whispered sexual invitation made AJ smile.

Howie opened his eyes. Pushing himself up onto one elbow, he looked around the darkened room. A lamp glowed softly from the opposite corner. Brian slept at his side.

Not morning yet.

Howie wasn’t going to relax and go back to sleep if it meant more dreams of AJ’s sex life.

Brian’s eyes were open. Brian shifted a few inches closer. “What were you dreaming about?”

“AJ and JC.”

“Mmm.” Brian’s hand pushed at his chest, guiding him back down. “Go back to sleep,” Brian murmured, eyes closing again.

Howie watched Brian fall back to sleep.

Brian’s hand was still on him. He wondered how long it would stay there.

He loved having Brian this close, emotionally and physically. He wanted Brian to stay this close.

He loved the curl of Brian’s lashes and the hard lines of Brian’s face and the way Brian breathed in sleep.

Brian’s fingers scritched through the hair on his chest.

Brian’s small smile was so pleased, so sweet, so content…

Water. The sound of water. Running water, rushing water, gushing water.

Crack! A sharp, sudden sound, like a slap, like a shot.

“Oh, shit.” A voice, a voice he knew, he knew that voice.

Early morning. Too early to be awake. The weight of Brian’s hand on his chest had vanished. Howie was alone in the bed.

A toilet flushed.

Brian was in the bathroom. Brian hadn’t gone anywhere. Brian hadn’t left him.

Brian had stayed all night, and not disappeared on him in the morning.

They were still close, he still had Brian’s love and complete acceptance, and it was still a treasure. Howie got out of bed, pulling his underwear up from where it had slipped down during the night, and went to the bathroom doorway.

Brian gazed tiredly into the mirror, rubbing a lazy hand over his stubble. “I’m a mess,” he muttered to himself.

“You look amazing,” Howie said. “You always do.” It was time to be bold, time to move forward. His sight didn’t have to tell him that; his heart knew.

Brian turned, startled. “Hey. Good morning.” A welcoming smile broke across Brian’s face. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine. How about you?” Howie stepped inside the bathroom, wanting to be closer. Brian wore only underwear, light gray boxer-briefs. Brian’s hair was in gentle disarray, his eyes bright with interest in Howie. The lines of his body, the smoothness of his skin, the firmness of his thighs, the color of his hard little nipples, the pouch of his genitals, drew Howie’s attention.

“I like your bed,” Brian said. Before Howie could fully appreciate that comment, Brian asked, “What were you dreaming about AJ and JC doing?”

“Falling in love,” Howie said, moving another foot closer.

Brian smiled. “Really?”

Brian was interested. Curious. There wasn’t a trace of disapproval or censure on his face or in his voice. Howie’s heart pounded.

A faint flicker of distress twitched between Brian’s eyebrows; he backed up, seeming to realize how close he and Howie were standing. “I’m just going to take a quick shower,” he said, reaching over and turning the knob, starting the water. “Then we can…” He ran out of words.

“Then we can what?” Howie asked, moving in again, undeterred. Water rushed from the faucet, filling the tub.

“We can…” Brian picked up a bottle of shampoo, as if holding it between his body and Howie’s would ward off Howie’s advances. But his eyes gazed into Howie’s, and Howie was entranced. Brian licked his lips and Howie’s heart lurched. “We can…”

Howie wrapped his hand around Brian’s forearm, pulling Brian closer. The shampoo bottle fell, hitting the side of the tub and dropping to the floor with a crack, splitting open.

“Oh, shit,” Brian said, distracted by the sight of shampoo seeping out between their feet.

Howie pulled Brian even closer and kissed him.

“Oh, god,” Brian whispered, and kissed back, arms winding around him. First Brian’s chest was pressed to his, and then Brian’s groin was pressed to his, and when Howie’s hands skimmed down the silken skin of Brian’s back to cup the gorgeous curves of Brian’s ass, Brian moaned, and the feel of Brian’s arousal stiffening against him made Howie moan in return, and then Brian was groaning back at him and tugging at his hair and sucking hungrily at his kiss.

Howie’s hand slid down, then urged Brian’s knee up, one hand lifting Brian’s thigh until Brian’s foot was planted on the side of the tub. Pressing Brian back against the wall beside the showerhead, Howie rocked against him, rubbing his thigh and groaning at the caress of his hands, kissing him deeply. Brian’s naked chest was hot against his, and the rigid swell of Brian’s erection made Howie want to drop to his knees and-

“Please, Howie,” Brian moaned, his accent thick and his voice desperate, his hands sliding up under Howie’s underwear to rub Howie’s ass. “You feel so good…” Groaning like he couldn’t take the ache, Brian curled his fingers in Howie’s boxer-briefs, tugging downward. “Please…”

Howie had seen many, many things in his life to date, and he’d even seen into the future, but he’d never seen anything as glorious as Brian in orgasm.

After having made love to Brian, Howie didn’t think he ever wanted to do anything else.

“Did you see this?” Brian asked, kissing him slowly, tongue soft and affectionate, fingers stroking the inside of his elbow. “Did you know?”

Howie looked into Brian’s eyes and wondered how he could have missed it. “I wish I had known. I wish I’d seen this. I could have made it happen so much earlier.”

“I’m glad you didn’t know.” Brian’s fingertip tested the curves of Howie’s mouth. “Some things you have to discover for yourself.”

The taste of Brian’s skin. The heat of Brian’s body. The intimate press of their bodies. The shimmer in Brian’s eyes after climax. Some things could only be learned in the moment. Some experiences could only be lived to their fullest live, in person, as they unfolded. As they happened. As they exploded.

Howie kissed that sweet, sensitive spot on Brian’s neck, making Brian laugh breathlessly.

Howie held out a full forty-five seconds after they’d made love again, before he confessed, “I love you.”

Brian was still trembling and breathing hard, but his embrace was tight. “I love you.”

They fell asleep without letting go.

A few weeks passed.

Brian officially had his own hotel room, but he preferred to use Howie’s. They were staying overnight in Chicago, and everyone else was getting ready to go out.

“You want to come?” Nick asked. “You should come. Kevin and I are going to this place with games and shit, you’d have fun.”

“We will next time,” Howie said.

“Promise,” Brian said. “Cross my heart. Pinky swear.”

“Good,” Nick said, momentarily mollified, linking his pinky through Brian’s. “But you should still come tonight. It’s going to-”

“You always drag them along,” Kevin said, pulling on his jacket. “Leave them alone for once.”

“I’d invite AJ, but he’s going out with JC.” Nick rolled his eyes. “Like that’s going to last.”

“They look good together,” Kevin said. “Are you ready to go?”

“You forgot your wallet,” Howie told Nick. “It’s on your bed in your room.”

Nick’s eyes widened. “Did you-”

“Go get it,” Kevin said, pushing Nick out of the room. “Thanks,” he said to Howie. “Good night,” he said to Brian, leaving and closing the door.

“Mmm. We’re alone.” Brian’s eyes sparkled as he leaned in for a kiss, his hand sliding in between Howie’s legs and, oh, rubbing. Oh! Howie’s toes curled as, oh, oh god, “Oh, Brian…”

“Mmm, Howie,” Brian murmured in response, licking slickly into his mouth, undoing his belt and pushing him onto his back. They’d been busy the past few days, trapped on the bus with the other guys at night, deprived of a certain level of intimacy. Apparently Brian intended to make up for that immediately, and Howie, “Oh, god, Brian, yes,” couldn’t say he, “ah, oh,” minded. “Brian…”

Howie slept spooned up behind Brian, his chest to Brian’s back, his thighs tucked against Brian’s, his arm under Brian and his fingers curled loosely against Brian’s chest.

Brian’s kiss was so tender, Howie’s heart ached. “I love you,” Brian whispered, gazing into his eyes like he was all Brian ever wanted to see.

“I love you,” Howie whispered, slowly sliding the backs of his fingers down Brian’s cheek. Still so beautiful, always so beautiful, all of this time, after all of these years. “Happy anniversary.”

A door slammed. Howie wakened, disoriented. What…

Brian must have turned around during the night, now embracing him, blue eyes opening slightly to give him a now-familiar curious look. “What were you dreaming about?”

“I don’t remember.” Howie tried to reach back for it, but it slipped his grasp. “Something… Something good.”

“Good things are coming?” Brian asked, looking into his eyes like Brian wanted to see what he saw.

“Only good things for you,” Howie promised, stroking Brian’s back.

Brian’s kiss was a brush of love. “Only good things for us.”

There was something in Brian’s eyes… Slowly, wondering, Howie slid the backs of his fingers down Brian’s cheek. “So beautiful,” he whispered.

Another kiss, slower. “You tell me you love me every day,” Brian said, rubbing his thumb over Howie’s stubble.

“I didn’t say it yet today,” Howie said.

Brian smiled. “Your eyes did.” His fingers slid down to Howie’s neck. “What’s it like?” he asked. “To have all of your dreams come true?”

Howie took a deep breath, considering his answer, caressing Brian’s chest. “I don’t know how to describe it.” His hand slid lower, stroking Brian’s stomach. He wanted to kiss Brian again. “Sometimes I think that it would be nice if I could control my dreams. But I don’t think that it would be a good idea if it happened that way.”

“It would be a big responsibility,” Brian said.

Howie found Brian’s heartbeat. He held his hand there, his palm mesmerized by the steady rhythm. It was only then that he realized that Brian’s slow caresses on his neck were right over his pulse. “I don’t think that I should be trusted to decide everything about my own fate, much less anyone else’s.”

“You don’t think you’d make good decisions for yourself?” Brian asked. Brian was always curious about him, always interested, like every word from his mouth was a new opportunity to learn more.

“I would have made one terrible, fatally wrong choice,” Howie said. “I would have married Lisa Thompson thirteen years ago.”

“No Backstreet Boys?” Brian asked.

“There still would have been a Backstreet Boys,” Howie said. “But there would have been no you and me.”

“I never did like her,” Brian said, narrowing his eyes.

Howie laughed. “You got along great.”

“She was all over my Howie,” Brian said, pressing possessively closer.

“I wasn’t your Howie then,” Howie reminded him, slipping an arm around his waist.

“You’re my Howie now,” Brian said, kissing him.

Howie kissed Brian until he was dizzy from it. “I love you,” he said, breathing hard and kissing Brian again.

“We already went over that today,” Brian said, kissing him back.

“I like to say it out loud,” Howie said, kissing Brian some more. “Make it official.”

“Mmm.” Brian moaned softly, just enough to make Howie’s body notice. “You feel so good,” Brian said, kissing him, stroking his chest. “I love you so much.” Slow kisses, slower caresses. “You made my dream come true.”

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