Peace

Piece by Peace

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: oh, man

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise 98 Degrees and the Backstreet Boys are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden slashwriters. It's also for wendy, literary-minded feedbacker and generous *NSYNC-love enabler. It's also for Kyla.

Wherein Nick is Nick, Nick is Nick, Nick is Nick...

Crazy.

Crazy dreams. Stiff neck. Time to get up and...

...and...

...and he was on the floor. In someone else's apartment, someone else's bedroom, someone else's body.

Reality body-slammed Nick.

Oh, god.

And life continued.

"Hey, Nick, get - - Nick!"

"AJ," Brian said.

"Nick! You've grown so much since I saw you last!"

"AJ! You've lost so much hair since I - - whoa! Hey, hey!" Brian laughed through AJ's assault. "You'll wake up Nick!"

"Nick!" AJ shouted. "Open those baby blues!"

"AJ, why are you conscious?" Brian asked. "Or are you still on your way to bed?"

"Slow night," AJ said. "Early to bed, early to rise, early to get a second chance with the ladies. You been here all night?"

"Yeah."

AJ's voice came closer. "Hey, Nick. You left him on the floor? Didn't your mama teach you manners?"

"I took off his glasses. Don't step on them."

Nick opened his eyes to see AJ crouching at his side. "Nick. How you feeling?"

Honest concern. Hand on his chest. AJ cared.

"Come on, Nick. Talk to a brother." AJ's finger ran down his nose. "Don't make me pull attitude on you. It's too early."

He had to say something. But what? He couldn't explain. He had to explain. He had to say something, anything. Tell them. Tell AJ. They cared about Nick. They'd want to help. They'd try to understand. They'd help. Help him. Help Nick.

AJ swung one leg over, kneeling astride him, hands by his shoulders. "Nick."

Down, boy. Now was not the time.

"Help me out here, Nick. Throw me a bone. You're having a bad week. You have amnesia. You're schizophrenic. You've been replaced by an alien shape-shifter who doesn't know how to fix your hair. You suddenly realized that yes, you are a natural blond, so you have no brain."

"He has a new tattoo," Brian's voice called from another room. "I think it's the mark of his alien race."

"Nick! You got new ink! Let me see!" AJ said.

"Check his right arm," Brian said.

AJ pushed up Nick's sleeve. "Dang, Nick. That's some sweet tat." He ran his fingers over Nick's upper arm.

Nick did his best to control his shiver.

"You should have told us," AJ scolded.

Brian came into the room and sat on AJ, who buckled and landed on Nick. "Let's go."

"You're going one place," AJ growled, struggling to free himself.

"Come on. We can surprise Kevin by being responsible and showing up early."

"Then he'll think we've all been replaced by alien beings," AJ said.

"AJ, we knew that about you years ago."

AJ threw Brian off and stood, shaking himself. "Last time I was in the middle like that, was with someone a lot prettier than..." He looked them over. "Fuck me." He shrugged. "I'm going to drain the lizard. You see if you can find those marbles you lost." AJ wandered off again.

Brian patted Nick's stomach. "Come on, get up."

He licked his lips. Sat up. Found his voice. "Brian."

Brian looked concerned. Ran a thumb over his chin. "What?"

"Can I stay here?" He sounded two years old. He felt two years old. Please. He wanted to trust Brian. He needed somebody. He was afraid to step outside of this apartment and see what had changed. What hadn't changed.

"Sure," Brian said, and rubbed his knee. No questions. No hesitation.

He wasn't going to cry.

"Nick." Brian leaned in closer. His eyes were very blue.

He wasn't going to cry. "What?"

"Can I stay here with you?"

He was not going to cry. "Sure," he said, and it came out half-whispered, half-choked.

Brian pulled his hair. "I'll go get rid of AJ."

"Be careful when you dispose of the body," AJ said from the doorway.

"Run along and tell Kevin we're busy," Brian said, getting to his feet.

"Busy doing what?" AJ asked.

"Playing hopscotch," Brian said.

"I'm the hopscotch master!" AJ exclaimed. "Come on, we can draw the squares on the floor here."

Nick sobbed into his pillow.

Nick was on the sofa in the living room, laughing. AJ and Brian had drawn squares on the floor with masking tape, and were arguing over how to number the squares, when the door opened.

"Howie!" AJ said without missing a beat. "Tell Brian chalk won't ruin Nick's floors."

"Nick doesn't even have chalk," Brian said.

"Who doesn't own chalk?" AJ demanded.

"Who does own chalk?" Brian asked.

Howie sat beside Nick, letting them figure it out. "Hi."

"Hi." First everyone had called him, last night. Now, everyone was dropping in. Should he expect to see Kevin next? "They're crazy," he said, gesturing to Brian and AJ.

"I pretend I don't know them," Howie said. "How are you?"

"Okay." He hesitated. "How are you?"

Howie smiled. "I'm fine. Maybe we should call Kevin and tell him we're meeting here."

"We always were meeting here," AJ said.

"Yeah," Brian agreed. "Obviously. We're all here. Kevin thinks we're meeting at the house?"

"Boy, is he wrong," AJ said.

Nick laughed.

He was in the wrong body in the wrong room in the wrong house in the wrong life. This Nick was older and buffer and in 98 Degrees and the man out front and gay, Nick was gay, Nick was...

Nick barely made it to the toilet in time.

Howie rubbed the back of Nick's head, familiar and warming. "Did you sleep all right?"

"Yeah."

"On the floor," AJ said, scrounging through Nick's apartment for something or other.

"You slept on the floor?" Howie asked.

"Yeah." With Brian. Suddenly he felt guilty for that. He didn't want to tell Howie. Why didn't he want to tell Howie? Whatever the reason, he should keep quiet, then. Trust his inner Nick. But his inner Nick was tense. Tenser. Sort of nauseous. What was wrong? Why couldn't he tell Howie that he'd slept with Brian? He wanted to know. He tested himself. He tested Nick. "It was Brian's idea."

"To sleep on the floor?" Howie asked.

"It wasn't too comfortable, either," Brian said. "Next time, we're using the bed."

"That might be a good idea," Howie said.

Howie hadn't even blinked. Howie didn't care where he slept, or with whom. Brian didn't care. AJ didn't care. Nick wiped his palms dry on his jeans. Then he reached over and held Howie's hand.

Howie squeezed his hand. "AJ, what are you doing?"

"Hey!" AJ whirled around to face them, slamming the drawer shut. "I've got it!" He ran to the kitchen.

Brian laughed and sat on the floor to wait. "This may take a while."

Howie laced his fingers through Nick's.

"Door's locked."

"You did hear that."

"Retching."

"Nasty."

"Nick, are you okay?"

"He's throwing up. He's not okay."

"Nick, say something."

"What are-"

"The door's locked. We have to get in there."

"Drew-"

"He could be sick, passed out, needing help. We don't know."

"He's fine."

"Throwing up isn't fine."

"Locking the door isn't fine."

"Wearing leather and playing Patrick Swayze is not fine."

"I don't know. I thought he looked mighty fine in those pants."

"Patrick Swayze?"

"Dirty Dancing."

"Oh."

"How does it feel to be culturally illiterate?"

"Being culturally illiterate means not knowing who Shakespeare is. It has nothing to do with old Patrick Swayze movies."

"Dirty Dancing is a classic."

"Terminator II is a classic."

"Guys?"

"What?"

"Who's Shakespeare?"

Laughter.

"Got it!"

The door opened. "Nick?" Footsteps. "Nick." People. Someone crouched in front of him, opened his eyes and peered. "Nick. What's wrong?"

Drew. Drew was his little brother.

"Talk to me. Nick, what hurts? Wet that washcloth for me. Nick." Drew felt his forehead, the back of his neck. His stomach. Then Drew had something wet and cold, and wiped his face with it, wiped his mouth, wiped the tears from his cheeks. "Nick, you can't throw up anymore. There's nothing left in your stomach. It hurts, doesn't it? Tell me why."

"I want to go back to sleep."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong."

He couldn't. He couldn't. No. He couldn't tell.

"Nick?"

He wasn't Nick and he wasn't gay but he was and he was and he leaned over the toilet bowl, stomach heaving, nothing coming up but pain.

Someone knocked at the door.

"Come in, Kevin," Brian said from the floor.

Kevin entered and locked the door. "Why are you all over here?"

"We live here," Howie said.

"You're late," Brian said.

"Late for what?" Kevin asked.

"We're meeting at Nick's at ten," AJ said, checking his watch. "I don't know who you think you are, strolling in here half an hour late, but-"

"We're meeting at the house at noon," Kevin said.

"Um, no," AJ said pointedly.

"You need to write these things down," Howie advised Kevin.

Kevin shook his head, unimpressed, and walked over to the sofa. "How are you?" he asked, standing before Nick.

"I'm fine, thank you, and you?" Nick asked.

Brian and AJ were making faces behind Kevin's back. Nick tried not to laugh.

Kevin flipped them off without looking. Then Nick did laugh.

Nick was in bed, curled up on his side.

Drew was curled up facing him.

"You're...my...little brother."

"Yes," Drew agreed.

"I have to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself," Drew said. "Right now I'm more worried about you."

"I'm okay."

"I can see that."

"Hey, guys? I don't mean to interrupt, but we're going a little nuts out here wondering what's wrong," Justin said from the doorway.

"When I told you to go away and let me talk to Nick, I meant go away and let me talk to Nick," Drew said. "I didn't mean give us two minutes alone and then come busting back in here."

"Tell us what's wrong and we'll go," Jeff said.

"I don't know what's wrong," Drew said. "Nick, what's wrong?"

"Can we do something?" Jeff asked.

"I want to go back to sleep," Nick said.

"Okay," Drew said. "Go ahead and rest. Do you mind if I hang out here for a while?"

"No." He liked Drew. He liked all three of these guys. Drew was a little guy with an attitude. Justin was very cool, very centered. And Jeff...

He closed his eyes.

He wasn't going to think about that.

Ever.

"...and she says no," AJ said. "No."

Everyone wore an expression of appropriate horror and confusion.

"I said, 'Girl, do you see this?'" He stood and lifted his shirt, exposing a tattoo that looked like, oh. Wow. "She says yeah, she knows about it, everybody knows about it. I said, so what the fuck are you doing going out with me if you're not ready to play?"

Kevin was trying to look disgusted. Howie was trying not to laugh.

"She started giving me attitude. She knew what she was getting into. Howie, help me out here. You see this?"

"I've seen it, AJ."

"You know what I like?"

"How detailed an answer do you need?"

"How detailed can you get?"

"AJ, by now, we all know exactly what you like in exactly what order. I could write the book on it."

"Maybe we should," Brian said. "A little pamphlet. What AJ Wants."

"Pamphlet?" Kevin asked.

"Excuse me," Brian said. "Seven-volume set of books."

"I'd like to read that," AJ said.

"Don't you know it all already?" Nick asked.

"It would give me something to beat off to."

"AJ, you don't need anything for that," Kevin asked. "Except a mirror."

He cleaned up and ate, then went back to bed.

"What AJ Wants," AJ mused, sitting by Brian on the floor. "In alphabetical order, or the order I like it done?"

"The order you like it done," Howie said.

"A how-to guide," Nick said.

"What do you want on the cover?" Brian asked.

"Some booty booty?" Howie asked. Judging from Kevin's snort and AJ's wicked grin, "booty booty" was one of AJ's favorites. What was booty booty? Nick didn't dare ask; he was probably supposed to know already.

"A naked woman," Kevin suggested.

"How about this?" AJ asked, and lifted Brian's chin, cupping Brian's jaw with two hands. "We'll just put this pretty face on the cover."

"It would sell," Kevin said.

"Like hotcakes," Howie agreed.

"Only much more edible," AJ said, and pretended to nip at Brian's earlobe. Brian laughed, pushing him away.

Nick opened his eyes. He was still here.

And Jeff was with him. Where Drew had been before.

"Morning," Jeff said. "Afternoon. One of those. You feel better?"

Yes. No. No. Yes. How could he?

"Nick, one tip. The silent treatment is getting old." Jeff poked his forehead. "Talk to us."

He was Nick Carter. This was Nick Lachey. Nick Lachey was gay. Nick Carter was not. It was that simple. He couldn't get confused. It made sense. He was Nick Carter. This was Nick Lachey. Nick Lachey was gay. That was Nick Lachey's problem.

And Jeff. Jeff was gay. Or bisexual? Or something. One of those. Jeff and Nick had had sex. Nick Lachey had had sex. With a man. With Jeff.

Years ago. Not recently. And Drew knew, Nick's brother. And Justin knew, Nick's best friend. It had happened and people knew and it was okay. Nobody cared. Nick was still in 98 Degrees. Still the big man out front.

"I see wheels spinning," Jeff said. "Whenever you're deep in thought, you look constipated."

"You're a jerk," Nick decided.

Jeff smiled. "Gonna pout at me now?"

Nick felt his mouth. Stuck out his lower lip. Practiced making sulky eyes.

"Aw, poor baby," Jeff cooed.

He poked Jeff in the stomach.

Jeff poked him in the chest.

He pushed Jeff's shoulder.

Jeff tickled him.

Damn! Nick squirmed, trying to escape, trying to fend off the attack. Nick Lachey was freaking ticklish! He made a mental note not to tickle poor Brian and Howie anymore.

Jeff relented, laughing. "You feeling better?"

"You're a jerk," he said again.

"Still love me?"

"Yeah." He did. Or Nick Lachey did. Or he did. Or they both did. Somebody living in this brain loved Jeff. This heart, this body, loved Jeff. Maybe that was why, or maybe it was from the adrenaline shot from being tickled, but his cock was half-hard. His cock. Nick Lachey's cock. Was half-hard.

And getting harder. Just a little. Because Jeff squeezed his arm. "You had us worried."

"I'm okay."

"Good."

It was okay that he was turned on. It was Nick Lachey's body, and Nick Lachey's Jeff, and Nick Lachey's sexuality. He let his hand slide across the mattress, across the gap between their bodies, to place fingers against Jeff's chest, through Jeff's shirt. Warm and very solid.

Jeff didn't say anything. Didn't move closer, didn't move away from him.

He'd had sex with this man. Kissed this man. Touched Jeff's naked body. He wondered what they'd done. What Nick Lachey liked.

"Are you okay?" Jeff asked.

Nick didn't know where to look.

"Nick."

"We had sex," he whispered.

"Yes," Jeff said. "Is that okay with you?"

He wasn't sure.

Jeff stroked his arm.

Oh, boy.

"We don't have to do it again."

Yeah. Okay.

"Nick?"

"But we could?"

"Do it again?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah. If you want to. Relax, Nick," Jeff said, sliding a hand over his chest. "It's just me. I should be the nervous one, here in bed with your evil twin."

"Are you gay?"

"I don't know."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

"That's...okay?"

"What's okay? That you're gay? I kind of like it, myself."

Oh. Okay.

"What do you like best?" Howie asked.

"Sex," AJ said.

"Sixty-nining or booty booty? I've never figured it out," Howie said.

"Ping," AJ said, and whapped Brian.

Brian looked at AJ.

"I said 'ping,'" AJ said.

"For that?" Brian asked.

"Excuse me, the rules say I say 'ping,' you change the subject. You can't question me on it."

"He pinged," Kevin told Brian.

"On that?" Brian asked.

"Ping!" AJ shouted. "Ping ping ping!"

"Okay," Brian said. "Who wants pizza?"

He played checkers with Justin. Lost. A lot.

He worked out with Drew.

He showered and sat on his bed, looking at his toenails.

He'd never in his life, never, he...

But this was Nick Lachey. Nick's body and Nick's life and Nick's Jeff. It was okay. Nick was gay. He wasn't. Nick was.

AJ dropped his crusts on Nick's plate as a matter of course, so Nick ate them. AJ was mad at Brian, growling and snarling whenever Brian came close. To be safe, Brian hid behind Nick and Kevin.

Finally, Howie said, "Love. Music. Brotherhood."

"Keeping the Backstreet Pride alive," they said together.

"Don't mess with my pinging," AJ told Brian.

"You're right," Brian said. "I'm sorry. I have no right to question your right to ping."

"Thank you."

"I still don't get it," Brian said.

AJ flipped him off.

He had nice feet. Feet were feet. But they weren't ugly or anything. And he had nice legs. Muscular. Not too hairy, but...masculine. That was it. Masculine. Masculine, muscular body. Rock-solid thighs. He wondered if he had a nice ass.

One way to find out.

He went to the bathroom, turned his back to the mirror, lowered his shorts, went up on his toes, and peered over one shoulder.

Damn.

Sweet ass.

Nick was used to having killer filler booty booty. This was high and tight. Nice.

He pulled his shorts up again.

Hesitated.

Lowered them again.

This wasn't his cock. This was Nick's. He'd taken the odd piss with it, but he'd avoided looking at it. He looked. It looked like a dick. He cupped it in one hand. Yeah, that was a dick.

He felt weird and guilty and scared and high.

He ran his thumb over it.

It felt nice. Nice to touch. Really soft skin. Really sensitive. It was like touching himself. Except it wasn't. Except it was.

Nick stuffed it back in his shorts and washed his hands until the hot water burned them.

AJ was irritating Kevin.

Brian was braiding Howie's hair.

Nick curled up on the sofa and watched.

AJ stopped directly before him and scratched his forehead with one gentle finger. "Don't fall asleep on us."

He reached out with one hand and lifted AJ's shirt, looking at the tattoo.

AJ did some wicked bump-and-grind with the air. "Wanna freak?"

"AJ," Kevin said.

Nick ran his fingers over the ink. "I can't believe you get away with this."

"Honey child, I get away with anything I want," AJ said.

"Give me an A," Brian cheered.

"A!" Nick shouted.

"Give me a J!"

"J!"

"What's that spell?"

"AJ!"

AJ dropped to his back on the floor and jacked his hips.

"AJ!" Kevin snapped.

"What do you expect?" Brian asked. "It's AJ. His date last night didn't show him proper love."

"Hey, Nick," AJ said.

"What?"

AJ slid up his shirt, exposing his tattoo again. Then he traced it with his fingers. "You like this?"

"Yeah."

"AJ," Howie said.

"You want to give me some?" AJ asked Nick.

"AJ," Brian said.

"Some what?" Nick asked.

"You want to show me proper love?" AJ asked.

"No," Nick said.

"Damn." AJ rolled to his stomach. "Kevin?"

"What," Kevin asked, irritated.

"You want to show me proper love?"

"I'll show you improper love," Kevin muttered.

"Oohh," AJ said. "Kinky."

"That's Kevin," Brian said. Howie burst into laughter and Brian pulled his hair to make him be quiet.

He didn't dream about Lou, or Aaron, or the fellas.

He dreamt about Jeff.

And woke up sticky.

In Nick Lachey's body.

Kevin and Howie were asleep on the sofa.

AJ was in the kitchen, doing something or other.

Brian was sleeping on the floor. Maybe Brian didn't like beds.

Nick flipped on the bathroom light and looked at himself. At Nick Carter. He touched the mirror, his hand meeting his hand's reflection.

AJ's touch on his shoulder jolted Nick from his reverie. "Fascinating sight," AJ said.

"Hi," he said, not knowing what else to say.

AJ stepped around him. "Thinking about getting a facelift?"

"No."

AJ lifted the toilet lid with one foot. "Want to dye your hair blue?"

"No."

AJ pulled out his penis and released a golden stream into the bowl. "I like the Leo look. On you."

"Thanks."

AJ finished, shook, tucked, and wiped his hand on Nick's ass. "I'm going to drop ice cubes down Kevin's pants. Want to help?"

Was Nick Lachey's body hairier than his was? Maybe. He had fatter balls, he was pretty sure. But Nick Lachey's cock could be longer...

Nick was gay.

Nick had sex with men.

Nick let guys do things to him.

Nick let...

He closed his eyes and counted to fifteen.

Kevin chased AJ into the bathroom, followed him in, and locked the door. There was a lot of yelling and banging and swearing and crashing, then not much noise at all.

Howie rolled over and went back to sleep.

Nick sat by the sofa and unbraided Howie's hair. Ran his fingers through it.

Brian got up from the floor and took Kevin's place on the sofa, curling up against Howie.

"The blind leading the blind," Justin said. "No one can save us now."

"What's going on?" Nick asked, coming into the weight room.

"Jeff wants me to help him dance," Justin said.

Nick thought about that for a minute. Jeff could not dance. He'd learned that already. What Jeff did could only be described as anti-dancing. Justin couldn't be any worse than that. Could he?

"Drew gave up half an hour ago," Jeff said.

"There's no hope," Justin said.

"You don't see *NSYNC giving up," Jeff said.

"Those guys can dance," Justin said.

"No, they can't," Nick said.

"You don't see the Backstreet Boys giving up," Jeff said.

"Do we look like the Backstreet Boys to you?" Justin asked.

"They're cuter," Nick said.

Justin broke into a coughing fit and excused himself.

"Are you going to help me, here, or should I devote myself to standing still during every future performance?" Jeff asked Nick.

"What do you want me to do?" Nick asked.

"Tee..ch...me...how...to...dan...sss," Jeff said. "O...kay?"

"O...kay," Nick said. "Muu...sss...ick?"

"Do I have to do everything myself?" Jeff asked.

"Yes," Nick said.

"Okay." Content with that answer, Jeff turned on the stereo.

Nick tried a few gyrations. Good music.

"What was that?" Jeff asked.

"What?"

"That thing your hips just did. I've never even seen Drew do that."

"What?"

"Do it again."

He tried to remember what he'd done. "Turn it off and start it again."

Jeff followed instructions. "That! That hip thing. The sex pelvis thing. Can we do that onstage?"

Nick did that onstage all of the time. "Why not?"

"Drew! Drew! Short young person! Get in here!"

Drew arrived in the doorway and crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, Master?"

"Nick, do the live sex show again."

Drew put his hands over his eyes.

"Stop that." Jeff tugged at Drew's elbows. "Watch. Go. Do. Now."

Nick did it again. Kept going.

Drew watched. Started to sway and step. Picked it up, shimmied with him.

"It must be genetic," Jeff said.

Drew danced around Nick. Nick danced around Drew. Some grinding, some salsa, some sex, some improv. It was hard to dance with someone he'd never danced with before, but he and Drew clicked from the downbeat. Either Nick's body remembered how to move with Drew, or Drew knew how to move with him.

"And you say you're straight," Jeff told Drew. "Somebody teach me how to do that!"

"Can't be taught," Drew said, twisting against Nick.

"It's in the blood," Nick said, and dipped Drew without warning. Drew came up laughing.

Howie snuggled into Brian.

Nick ran his fingers across the center of Brian's palm.

Brian shifted. Blue eyes opened just enough to check who was being annoying. Brian smiled and pulled Nick's finger. "Hi," Brian mouthed.

"Hi," Nick whispered.

"What were we talking about before?" Drew asked.

"Starfleet," Jeff said.

"No," Drew said.

"Sinatra?" Jeff guessed.

"No," Drew said.

"Artichokes!" Jeff said with triumph.

"Dirty Dancing," Drew said.

"I lost," Jeff said. "Our next round-"

"Shut up," Drew said. "Now I forget what I wanted to say."

"Nothing important," Nick said.

"Probably not," Drew agreed.

"Can we get back to Sinatra?" Jeff asked.

"Marie, the dawn is breaking, Marie, you'll soon be waking, to find, your heart is aching, and tears will fall as-"

"What?" Drew asked.

"What was that?" Jeff asked.

"Sinatra," Nick said.

"Oh," Drew said.

"Okay," Jeff said.

"You know," Drew said. "You're a good singer."

"Thank you," Jeff said. "I've always-"

"I meant Nick," Drew said.

"Him?" Jeff asked.

"Yes, him," Nick said. Hey, cool. He could sort of loom. He was short, but still taller than these guys.

Jeff was not impressed by the looming.

Nick tried looming over Drew.

Drew batted his eyelashes.

Nick gave up.

"Dancing!" Drew said. "You get behind him, and I'll get in front, and - - nobody's listening to me. I'm talking to myself. This must be how Justin feels."

"Justin?" Nick asked.

"Who's Justin?" Jeff asked.

"I don't know," Drew said.

Someone not impressed by their wit laughed derisively from the next room.

Drew turned on the stereo. "Watch me. Not you. Jeff, come here." Drew pushed them into a line. "You dance in the middle. Facing me. You dance behind him."

"I'm going to learn to dance by osmosis?" Jeff asked.

"Is that what osmosis is?" Nick asked.

"Stop talking," Drew said. "Dance."

"I talk better than I dance," Jeff said.

"No, you don't," Drew said.

Nick laughed and started dancing. He tried to dance with Drew, through Jeff. It kind of worked, and kind of didn't. Drew took Jeff's hands to provide some guidance, and Nick put his hands on Jeff's hips.

Jeff smelled good.

"We need new friends," Kevin said.

"Friends?" Howie asked.

"What's a friend?" Brian asked.

Nick wasn't sure what time it was. Or what day it was. Not that he'd ever been sure of that. He only knew that he'd been sprawled on this floor for a while, making himself sick laughing at these idiots. He was at the point where anything and everything struck him as hilarious. He rolled onto his stomach for a change of pace.

Howie reached over and finger-combed Nick's hair down into his eyes.

"I need to get laid so bad," AJ moaned, falling off of the sofa.

"Me, too," Kevin said.

"Me, three," Howie said.

"Me, four," Brian said.

"Gimme some sweet booty booty," AJ said.

"Yeah," Kevin said.

"Yeah," Howie said.

"Yeah," Brian said.

"In leather."

"Yeah."

"Black leather," Brian murmured, rolling onto his back.

AJ moaned.

"Long legs," Kevin said.

"Long neck," Howie said.

"Black leather," Brian said again.

AJ moaned.

"Are you guys okay?" Nick asked.

"No," they groaned. Then they started snickering.

Drew swung Jeff around, and Nick found himself looking into blue eyes.

Blue eyes. Brian had blue eyes.

Jeff had blue eyes.

These eyes didn't sparkle. They shone. They almost gleamed. Nick's spine itched.

He kept dancing.

Nick and Jeff had had sex.

He kept dancing.

"Long hair," AJ said.

Kevin pulled Howie's hair.

"Blue eyes," Howie said.

"Green eyes," AJ said.

"Brown eyes," Kevin said.

"Blue," Nick said.

"Black leather," Brian said.

"Brian, we've moved on," Howie said.

"Let him be," Kevin said. "It's best not to interrupt Brian's perverted fantasies."

"And you would know this how?" AJ asked Kevin.

"It's a lot more entertaining to let him keep going," Kevin said. "We can blackmail him later."

"That sounds like fun," AJ said.

"Blond hair," Howie said.

"Dark hair," AJ said.

"High cheekbones," Howie said.

"Hell, yes," AJ said.

Kevin sucked in his cheeks.

"No, Kevin," AJ said. "We want someone who looks human."

"Guess you're out," Kevin said.

"Kevin has great cheekbones," Nick said.

"Black leather," Brian moaned, gazing at the ceiling.

"Want me to get out whips and chains for ya, Bri?" AJ asked.

Brian gave a dazed smile.

"He scares me," AJ said.

Howie inched away from Brian.

"A pretty smile," Kevin said.

AJ bared his teeth.

"Not like that," Kevin said.

"Nice ears," AJ said.

"Ears?" Howie asked.

AJ licked his lips. "I like ears."

Howie inched away from AJ.

Drew left to forage for food. Nick danced circles around Jeff, literally. The CD ended and he hummed to himself, holding Jeff's right hand and swinging out and back. Jeff started to hum with him, obliging enough to be his prop.

Then he realized what he was humming.

A 98 Degrees song he didn't know.

He stopped and frowned.

"I didn't step on your toes," Jeff said.

Nick stepped on Jeff's toes.

"Thanks," Jeff said.

"No problem."

"Marie-"

"-girl of my dreams-"

"-you'll soon be waking, to find-"

"-have a little faith in me-"

"-your heart is aching-"

"-tra la la la la-"

"-and tears-"

Drew waltzed Justin into the weight room, then out again.

Laughter and love and intimacy and familiarity and touching and eyes and cheekbones and hair and bodies and if Nick had to spend one more second with these people, he was going to lock himself in the bathroom and masturbate for an hour.

Or three.

They were too close; that was the problem. They knew each other too well. They were like one entity. Smoothly functioning only as long as all five of them were there. He was sure that, seeing them miles away from any Backstreet Boy, they were different people. But as soon as they started breathing each other's air, they were closer than conjoined twins sharing one brain.

AJ had decided to make Howie ping. Apparently Howie never pinged. Brian was helping by pursuing terribly impertinent questions, like Howie's favorite flavor of Jell-O (red) or whether Howie preferred Nikes or Reeboks (Nikes).

Howie refused to ping. He was good-natured about it, but he didn't have anything to hide.

He admitted that Britney scared him, he knew he sucked at Spanish, he knew all of the words to Paul Simon's Graceland, he never really got Big Bird, he wouldn't mind clubbing *NSYNC to death while screaming, "Sail this, Chasez!", and if he had to have sex with a guy, it would be AJ.

Kevin choked.

Brian started laughing.

"At least I'd have a good time," Howie said.

Nick didn't want to go to bed.

If he went to bed, he'd sleep.

If he slept, he'd wake up again.

If he woke up, he might still be Nick Lachey.

As long as he was awake... Okay, if he was awake, he was Nick Lachey, anyway, but if he... Fuck it. He didn't want to go to bed. So he watched TV and ate junk food and played video games. Everybody else went to bed, but he stayed up, pretending he was a sane human being.

AJ blew them all a kiss and left.

Kevin shook his head and left.

Howie bowed and left.

Brian waved and left.

Nick locked the door.

Nick turned off the TV and stared through the darkness.

Nick picked up some of the debris, then flipped off light and went to brush his teeth.

Footsteps. Someone was coming downstairs.

Nick undressed and got in bed.

The kitchen.

Nick got up and went to investigate.

He was going to sleep. He was going to wake up in the break house with the guys.

Jeff was there. Standing in the glow of the refrigerator. Wearing sweatpants and nothing else. And those sweatpants were in severe danger of sliding off Jeff's ass.

Nick stayed in the doorway.

Jeff rubbed his chest.

Nick's mouth watered.

Oh, no.

Of all things.

Nick recognized this. That antsy, horny, tense feeling. If he'd been at home, maybe he would have taken care of it. Okay, probably he would have taken care of it. But here? Now? Not in this body. No way.

He sat up and glared down at his lap. "No."

Sparkly blue eyes and long dark hair and amazed green eyes and a bold tattoo. Fingers in his hair and fingers on his chin. Singing and pinging and laughing and intimacy.

AJ's dick. In AJ's hand. In the bathroom. He'd seen it. Black nail polish and that sweet-

"No!" he told Nick's cock.

Nick's brain went on without him.

Jeff hummed to himself and scratched his balls through his sweatpants.

Nick's breath caught.

He wanted to put on black leather and let Brian undress him.

His cock agreed.

His cock. Nick's cock. He was Nick. This wasn't his body. But his brain and his body were connected, and they were aching. His balls ached. His thighs ached. His brain kept whispering about AJ's omnipotent sexuality and Brian's damned kinky beauty and Kevin's protective love and Howie, if Howie touched him one more time he was going to beg Howie to make love to him.

Howie wasn't going to touch him. Howie wasn't here.

He'd have to touch himself.

Jeff was a man. Jeff was all man.

Nick Lachey was in love with Jeff. He was as sure of that as he could be, without asking Nick. He didn't have to ask Nick; he was Nick. He knew. Nick was in love with Jeff.

Well, damn. Who wouldn't be?

A straight man wouldn't be.

Nick wasn't straight.

But he was.

He was.

He was straight.

Jeff closed the refrigerator door.

Darkness.

He was straight.

Wasn't he?

Nick moaned, sliding one hand down his chest, fisting his other hand in his groin. Not his groin. Nick's. This wasn't his body. This was someone else's body. He couldn't come and run. Nick deserved better than this.

Oh, god...

He moaned, loosening his grip some, slowing down. Oh, this was good. He'd never... He... Nick...

He ran his hand through his hair, licking his lips, panting.

He was straight. He was straight.

Jeff was coming this way, he knew it, he had to move, he had to get out of the way, Jeff would find him, Jeff would see, Jeff would know...

Nick's fingers dropped behind his balls.

He was straight, he...

But Jeff...

And Brian...

And AJ...Kevin...Howie...

He...

No...

God...please...

Nick moaned, hips rising, as one finger breached his body.

Please...

Nick gasped, shuddering, torn through by the force of his orgasm. Semen-splattered, sweating, he sat up in bed, shaking.

He swallowed.

He licked his lips.

"Nick?"

Nick stared, blinking. "Jeff?"

"What are you doing still up?"

"I..."

"Come on, back to bed. You could use some beauty rest."

Nick stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the light.

He stared at himself in the mirror.

"Nick?"

Epilogue:

Backstage at the 21st Century Music Awards, Nick turned.

Nick scanned the crowd.

Blue eyes met blue eyes.

Nick moved towards Nick, making his way through the press of people. "Hey."

"Hey."

They shook hands, then embraced. "You look good."

Nick smiled. "You look good, too."

Nick touched Nick's dimples with a quick thumb.

Nick blushed. "How've you been?"

"Good."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. What about you? Still love him?"

Nick chuckled. "Yeah. Have you..."

"What?"

"I know you have a lot of mental...stuff...to sort through..."

"Yeah."

"But have you...talked to the fellas?"

"The fellas," Nick repeated. "Who do you think you...never mind. You mean did I pick one of them?"

"You didn't."

"No, I didn't. How can I pick one?"

"Nick."

"Nick?"

"You..."

"Want to know which one's the best kisser?"

"What I want to know."

"Yeah?" Nick grinned.

"You ever wear black leather for Brian?"

"Ping."

"You can't ping me."

"I can so."

"C'mere." Nick tugged Nick through the crowd.

"Where are you taking me?" Nick asked.

"I want to talk to you in private."

"There is no private around here."

Nick went into the bathroom, weaved past various famous people and lackeys, and pulled Nick into a stall with him.

"You're even stupider than you look," Nick said.

Nick ran his fingers through Nick's blond hair. "It looks good like that."

"Thanks. I do not know how you get yours to do that."

"Practice."

"Oh, is that it? I thought you had a blind hairdresser who-"

Nick kissed him.

Nick kissed Nick back.

"Make sure they treat you right."

"Make sure you do Jeff. You're right."

"About what?"

"I can't ping you. I can't ping when I'm with you."

"You can't," Nick agreed. "You want to hang out, call me. Any time."

"Any time," Nick said.

"And next time you think about getting a new tattoo, warn me."

matthew@matthewtime.com
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