WANNABES
"Wannabes" are scenes that originally were written for "Sucker" but were deleted or rewritten along the way, shown here in their original form.
Since
these scenes are not part of "Sucker" and were in fact deliberately removed from
"Sucker," please do not take any of the plot points or expressed opinions as
actual "Sucker" canon. Whatever the guys say or think here in these scenes
is irrelevant to the overall "Sucker" plot.
"Sucker" (copyright 2002-2006 by Matthew Haldeman-Time) is rated NC-17 for
graphic male-male sex. The young men who comprise the Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC,
and O-Town 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.
11.) Erik, Howie ("Sucker" 73)
Erik and Howie talk about what to wear.
“Whoa.” Erik grinned. “Going somewhere?”
“I’m figuring out what to wear to dinner with JC,” Howie said. “Go look in my closet and see if you can find anything.”
“I kind of like what you have on now,” Erik said, stepping into the house, still grinning.
“Thank you, Erik-Michael.” Howie paused to close the door and kiss his cheek. “But I want the night to be about JC, not how tight my shirt is.”
“I always thought that it was hot when I could see a girl’s nipples, but this isn’t bad, either.” Erik eyed Howie with interest. “I like the pants, too. Can you turn around?”
“No,” Howie said with a smile, pushing Erik towards the bedroom. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
“You should always buy your
shirts that tight.”
“I used to,” Howie said. “Then I grew up.” Now in the bedroom, he steered Erik toward the closet and began to undress.
Pausing in the closet doorway, Erik watched Howie strip, as fascinated as always by the lines, curves, and textures of Howie’s body. “You want a suit?”
“That would be a good start.” Pulling on a robe, Howie ran a hand through his hair and joined Erik in the closet. “How’s JC?”
“He’s great,” Erik said, then
glanced at Howie. “He misses you.”
“You aren’t pushing him, are you?” Howie’s gaze grew cautious.
“You haven’t put pressure on him?”
“No,” Erik said. “We talk about you, but I haven’t been even half as pushy as I want to be. I let all of the gifts and flower and presents and letters and jewelry do the talking.” Howie had a lot of clothes. A lot of suits, in a lot of colors. “What color does JC like you in?”
“Pink.”
What? Had Howie just - - “Did you just say ‘pink?’” Erik asked, blinking.
“Pink,” Howie agreed with a smile that said, “JC’s eccentric and I love him for it.”
Erik had already figured out that JC liked pink, but he hadn’t expected JC to want Howie to wear it. “You don’t have a pink suit, do you?” he asked, looking around, hoping for a negative answer.
“I don’t.” Erik was relieved until Howie continued, “Maybe I should get one.”
“You don’t want a pink suit,” Erik said.
“JC likes pink,” Howie said. “JC likes pink on me. JC likes,” smile, flash of teeth, “taking pink off of me. I need a pink suit.”
“You don’t even own pink clothes,” Erik protested.
“I’ve worn most of JC’s,” Howie said.
Oh, hell, “You aren’t going to go out and buy a pink suit. They don’t even make them.”
“I’ll have it made for me,” Howie said.
Of course. Thinking quickly, Erik argued, “But then it won’t be done in time for dinner. You’d better wear something else.”
“It’ll be done in time,” Howie said. “I’ll go to the tailor’s now. Come with me, I want to get something for you, too.”
This conversation was moving too fast. “You don’t need to - - I - - wait a second,” he said, jerking Howie’s robe shut again as Howie began to remove it. “Just listen to me.”
Erik’s hands were still on Howie’s lapels; Howie’s fingertips drifted idly over the back of Erik’s hand as he gazed into Erik’s eyes. “Is something wrong?” he asked with a small, amused smile.
Rolling his eyes at the question, Erik released Howie, stepping back. “Don’t make me be the…” He wanted to chicken out and say “bad guy,” but he steeled his nerves and went for it. “Homophobe.”
“Real men don’t wear pink,” Howie guessed.
Hell, it was true, what was he supposed to say?
“Real men aren’t gay,” Howie added.
He flinched. “Don’t-”
“Put those two together, and
only gay men wear pink,” Howie said. “If your sexual identity is so weak and
easily compromised that the color of the fabric you put on can influence it, you
have other problems besides your wardrobe.”
Taking a deep breath, Erik tried not to mutter insolently when he said, “You sound like JC.”
“JC has a lot of good opinions that I agree with,” Howie said. “Erik-Michael, anyone can wear any color. It doesn’t matter.” A smile. “JC would say that unless your god or your gang says otherwise, wear whatever color you want.”
No one he knew thought like JC and Howie did. No one was that…open.
“Come to the tailor’s with me,” Howie said, slipping out of his robe and handing it over, reaching for underwear.
He loved the rich smoothness of Howie’s skin. “You have your own tailor?”
“He’s not mine,” Howie said.
“He works for a lot of people.”
“But you can show up without an appointment,” Erik said.
Howie smiled, tugging on a pair of jeans. “Sometimes he keeps me waiting.”
“Waiting,” as it turned out, meant spending ten minutes sipping champagne in a private lounge. Champagne at the tailor’s, champagne at the jeweler’s, Erik wondered if Howie got champagne at the carwash. He didn’t ask, since he was distracted by the cleavage of the woman serving them caviar.
The tailor bustled in, greeting Howie with a warm handshake. The way his gaze whisked over Erik during their introduction made Erik stand up a little straighter. One quick wave of a hand and the woman left; an assistant tailor came in a moment later. Howie told the tailor what he wanted, and while they discussed details, Erik found himself being measured by the assistant.
The head tailor walked briskly from the room, and Howie wandered closer, watching Erik get measured. Self-conscious, Erik said, “I don’t really need a new suit. I don’t even wear a suit to that many places.”
“Then we’ll have to find you some new places,” Howie said with a smile.
Erik waited impatiently until the assistant was finished and had left the room. Stepping closer to Howie, he whispered, “You can’t keep buying me things.”
“I like having someone to indulge,” Howie said. “I miss pampering JC.”
“It’s only a few days until you can do that again.”
Howie’s gaze was searching. “You don’t like it when I do things for you?”
He might as well be honest. “I don’t like not knowing how to return the favor.”
“It’s not a favor that you have to return,” Howie said. “You know that I don’t do anything to get something back from you.” Fondness warmed Howie’s eyes. “You’ve given me so much, Erik-Michael, so much-”
The tailor bustled back in. Howie took a step back from Erik, facing the tailor with a smile. Erik sucked in an even breath, looking elsewhere.
There was something he had to do.