Copyright April 2, 2002-July 21, 2003 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

Pairings: Thus far we've had JC/Justin, Nick/Drew/Brian, Nick/Jeff, Nick/Drew/Brian/Nick/Jeff, AJ/Lance, AJ/Howie, AJ/Kevin, Chris/Howie, and partridge/pear tree.

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

Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden slashwriters.

Wherein Drew won't go behind Brian's back, AJ can screw anybody he wants, and could JC be mellowing?

Notice: First, read "I Need You Tonight," "Boy Lead the Way to Ecstasy," "Not Easy," "No One," "Rest in Peace," "Destiny," and "Together." I know it sounds like a lot, but it'll only take you an hour or two.

        He didn’t ask where Jeff was.  He could guess.

        Something had to be going down.  Something big.  It had to do with Lance; that much was clear.  It had Drew’s warm calm uncharacteristically, badly, shaken.

        Justin hadn’t gone through everything, the big and the small, the good and the bad, to let things crash now.

        He’d keep his eyes and ears open.  He’d pick up whatever he could.  And if he could do anything to help, he’d do it.

        If it helped Nick, Drew, and Jeff, he’d do anything.  They were his best friends.  They were his brothers.  And he wanted the rest of his bed back.

        They were home, and it barely mattered.

        Oh, of course JC cared that he was at home, that they were on a break, that he could relax and sleep in and have some time to himself.  But home?  Home was where Justin was.  Every night he slept in Justin’s arms was a night JC slept at home.

        JC gazed at Justin’s eyes until they opened.

        Justin gazed back.

        JC reached around Justin and tugged on a curl at Justin’s nape.

        Justin’s eyes closed, head tilting back.

        JC licked up Justin’s neck to the underside of Justin’s jaw.  “What did you dream about, baby?”

        “Him,” Justin said, and shuddered with fear and pleasure.

        “What happened?” JC asked, putting his thumb to a nipple.

        “He let me kneel for him.  He came in my mouth.”

        “Was he good to you?”

        “So good,” Justin said, eyes still closed.

        “Did you kiss him?”

        “You’re jealous,” Justin whispered.

        “I’m jealous of anything that takes your attention from me,” JC said.

        Justin smiled, opening his eyes.  “Me, too.”  He kissed JC, rubbing himself slowly against JC’s cock, feeling it harden for him.  “Do you want to touch me, baby?”

        JC slid his hand down Justin’s side, watching his fingers on Justin’s skin.

        “I’m yours,” Justin promised.  “Nobody else’s.”

        “Tell me I can keep you forever,” JC said, focusing on the feel of Justin’s muscular arm against his palm.

        “JC,” Justin said, and tipped JC’s face up to look at him.  “I’m yours forever.  I’m always yours.”

        JC kissed him, wanting to own him.

        “Always,” Justin promised between kisses.

        His bed.  His bedroom.  His house.

        Not his alone.  Brian’s and Drew’s, too.

        Nick sprawled out over Brian’s back, smiling to himself.  Home.  Home, home, home.  Home with his house and his stuff and his schedule.  He kissed Brian’s shoulder and got up out of bed.  “Come on,” he said, tugging on Brian’s foot.  “Gotta carpe that diem.”

        “I know you don’t know Latin,” Brian said, and pulled the covers up closer.

        “Oh, is Bri-Bri grumpy?” Nick asked, immediately accepting the challenge, crawling back onto the bed.

        “Grumpy?” Brian asked.  “Drew is alone and totally fucked.  I don’t know how I’m going to help JC.  You’re leaving again.  I yelled at Drew yesterday.”

        “You apologized to Drew.  I’m coming back to visit.  You’re going to help JC by being yourself.  Drew is not alone.  I don’t think he’s fucked, either.  We can handle Lance.”  Nick nuzzled Brian’s cheek.  “I know what’s wrong.  You’re mad at yourself for dropping your guard yesterday.”  He nuzzled Brian’s neck.  “You’re not used to admitting how fucked up you are, especially not to me and Drew.”

        “I am not fucked up.”

        “No, you’re pretty fucked up.”  Nick started licking the corner of Brian’s jaw.  “And you need to shave.  Come on, out of bed, I want to see Howie and Kevin before I go on baby-sitting duty.”

        “Nick…”  Brian stopped himself, but Nick knew the “leave me alone” voice.

        Nick looked at Brian closely.  “You want to make love to me?”

        “Nick, no, that’s-”

        “It’s okay,” Nick said.  “You know it’ll make you feel better.  You can work out some of the tension.”

        “I don’t-”

        “You can use my body,” Nick said.  “I’ll let you any time you want.”

        “That’s why I can’t,” Brian said, finally facing him directly.

        “You’re grouchy, and I’m not letting you stay that way.  You know it’ll make you feel better.”

        Brian sighed.  “You’ve always been too good to me.”

        “That’s my job,” Nick said, wrapping Brian in a tangled embrace.  “I know you feel weird.  A lot of stuff’s going on.  You can’t clean out your head until you let go of stuff.”

        “It’s hard to let go.”

        “Trust me, I know.  I had whole shitloads of crap in my head I was clinging to like a motherfucker.  But you’re strong enough.  You can get rid of your shit.”

        “When did you reverse our roles?”

        “When you weren’t looking.”

        “I don’t like it.”

        “I know you don’t, but…hmm, yeah, tough shit.”  Nick kissed his cheek.  “Come on, go ahead and carpe my ass.”

        Jeff ambled over.

        Drew practically crawled up under Justin’s shirt to get away.

        Good god, now what?

        “Go do something,” Jeff said to Nick.  “Something very long and very involved.”

        “I-”

        “Something extensive,” Jeff said.

        “But-”

        “Find something to do,” Jeff said, and this time, it wasn’t even close to a suggestion.

        Nick looked at Drew.  Really, he looked at the back of Drew’s ear, since Drew was doing his best to be blocked and invisible.

        “I’ll help you find something,” Justin offered, willing to go with Nick if it got him out of this situation.

        “Don’t you dare leave me,” Drew muttered, pretending to take a drink of water.  After that, of course, Justin couldn’t go anywhere, so he resigned himself to buffer duty.

        “Go,” Jeff said to Nick.

        Nick hesitated, took one step closer, hovered, dropped back, and left.

        “Oh, thank god,” Drew said, and his shoulders relaxed.  How much tension had he been holding?

        “You doing okay?” Jeff asked.

        “Oh, yeah,” Drew said, and somehow he managed to put Justin between the two of them, which was not where Justin would have chosen to be.  Off to the side, on a warm beach with beautiful women, in a pit of vipers, not between Drew and Jeff at this moment.  Although, being between Drew and Nick tended to be worse, depending on what was going on.

        “Drew, it’s okay,” Jeff said.

        “Nothing is okay,” Drew said, then pretended to take another drink, looking like he wished he hadn’t said that.  He was really nursing this cup of water; he’d been carrying it around for forty-five minutes.  Apparently it gave him something to hide his face in.

        “We’ll make it okay.  We’ll figure out something,” Jeff said.

        “Like what?” Drew asked.

        “First I’d like you to stop hiding from me.  How is that helping?”

        “I can’t do this,” Drew said.  “I can’t do it anymore.  People know.”  He turned away, blinking a little too hard.

        Justin could not possibly have heard that correctly.

        “We don’t know that,” Jeff said.  “We don’t know what-”

        “He knows,” Drew said, still looking away.  “He knows.  The only question is, who else knows, and who else is being told?”

        This was none of Justin’s business.  Never had been.  He’d stayed out of it since the first time he’d caught Nick watching Drew with that look.  But if things were exploding in their faces, he wanted to be prepared for it.  “Who knows?”

        Drew made a little signal, like, “tell him.”

        “Lance,” Jeff said.

        “Lance?”  Not a name Justin had expected to hear.  And at first he wasn’t extremely worried about it, until he remembered that Lance wasn’t quite the same old Lance anymore.  “How do we know he suspects anything?”

        “When he went off on Brian, he said some things,” Jeff said.  “Accusing Brian of stuff with me and Nick.  We think if he knows about that, he knows the rest, but it’s hard to tell.  We don’t even know how he knows, not for sure.”

        “Nick told JC,” Drew said to that spot in the distance.  “That’s how Lance knows.”

        “We don’t know that,” Jeff said, unwilling to blame Nick unless it were absolutely necessary.  “He could have found out other ways.”

        “Lance,” Justin said.  The very fact of anyone knowing had to be devastating.  But Lance seemed to be getting off on hurting other people at the moment.  Justin had to take care of this.

        “Who’s we?” Chris asked, not liking the sound of this.

        “Brian and Nick.”

        “He calls me names.”

        “Nick?” Howie asked.  “He calls you names because he likes you.”

        “Then he must love me,” Chris said.

        “Of course he does.”

        “You’re going to have to explain yourself, because, whoosh, over my head.  Out the door.  Gone.  Bye-bye.”

        Howie smiled.  “I love you.  The guys like you and respect you because you’re with me.”

        “You’ve raised my status.”

        “Yes.”

        “Chris Kirkpatrick, social climber.”

        “At least in Nick’s eyes.”

        “We’re doing what at Kevin’s house, secret Backstreet bonding rituals?”

        “Nick wants to see us before he goes.  Nothing serious.  It should be short.”

        “This will be exciting.  Backstreet in its natural habitat.  You can be my interpreter.”

        Howie kissed his cheek, one hand sliding down over his ass.  “We’re not that mysterious.”

        “The five of you have very strange ways.  Did I ever mention that I truly enjoy it when you get gropey?”

        Howie winked.  “Then you should enjoy yourself a whole lot later tonight.”

        Chris melted.  “Swoon.”

        “Hi.  This is Justin.”

        “Hey, what’s going on?”

        “I know this is a bad time for you, but I need to ask for a big, personal favor.”

        “What is it?”

        “It’s about Lance.”  He let that sink in, knowing Joey wouldn’t listen to him over the initial, rushing response to Lance’s name.  “It’s about what he said to Brian.”

        “Justin, I’d be happy to help you, you know I would, but right now, with Lance, I don’t even know if he’ll talk to me.  He won’t answer his phone.  I don’t even know how we’re going to do this thing with Justin.”

        “Joey, I know what happened, and I didn’t want to come to you, but I don’t have a lot of options.  I know it’s impossible, but I have to ask.”

        “What’s going on?”

        “There’s a lot I can’t explain, but here’s where I need your help…”

        Brian had let Nick drive, and while Nick drove, Brian decided to play the radio.  Brian liked crappy music, so Nick turned to better stations.  Brian told him to pay attention to his driving.  Nick said he couldn’t pay attention to anything with that shit playing.  They fought over it until Nick drove through a stop sign and almost collided with another car.  Then they turned off the radio.  Then Brian started to sing.  Then Nick started to sing to drown out Brian’s lame song.  Then Brian sang louder.  Then Nick tried to play a CD.  Then Brian threw Nick’s CD out of the window.  Then Nick threw one of Brian’s CD’s out the window.  Then Brian threw one.  Then Nick threw one.  Then Brian-

        “Not that one!  Drew gave me that one.”

        Brian tucked it away safely and threw a different one.

        Nick was about to toss one when his cell rang.

        “Don’t talk while you’re driving,” Brian said.

        Nick stuck his tongue out at Brian.  “Hello?”

        “Nick, hang up,” Brian said.

        “Nick, why is the road behind you littered with CD’s?”

        Nick looked in the rearview mirror.  “Hey, Howie!”

        “Hi,” Howie said, and waved.

        Nick waved back.  “Hey, is that short and sweet?  You guys coming to Kevin’s?”

        “Yes.  Will you stop displaying such a casual disregard for material things?”

        “We can afford to buy more.”

        “Pretend you can’t.”

        “Okay.  I have to hang up now before Brian gets mad.”

        “Bye, Nick.”

        “Bye.”  Nick hung up.

        “I hate it when you do that,” Brian said.  “Nick, I want you to be safe.”

        “I can’t hang up on Howie.”

        “Yes, you can.  Let me show you.”  Brian called Howie.  “Hello, Howie?  I’d rather not talk on the phone while I drive, so I’ll call you back when I get to where I’m going.  Okay.  Bye.”  He hung up.  “See?”

        “Fine.”  Nick pulled into Kevin’s drive.  “I won’t talk on the phone while I’m on the road, okay?”

        “Thank you.”

        Nick kissed him.  “You’re welcome.”  They got out and rang Kevin’s bell.  “Hey, stupid and stinky,” Nick said as Howie and Chris joined them.

        “I love you, too, Nick,” Chris said.

        “Ugh, creepy,” Nick said, backing up into Brian.

        Kevin opened the door.  He surveyed them with caution.  “This establishment only serves adults.”

        “Guess that leaves me out,” Nick said.

        “Me, too,” Brian said.

        “I won’t even pretend,” Chris said.

        Howie walked in.  “Is Molly here?”

        “Your new girlfriend?” Nick asked.

        Kevin started to close the door in Nick’s face.

        “I can be nice,” Nick said.  “I’ll be nice!”

        Kevin gave Nick a hard look through the crack in the door.

        “I’ll be nice!”

        “Respectful,” Kevin said.

        “Right, respectful.  I’m not going to diss her to her face!  God, I’m not rude.”

        Chris snorted.

        “Bitch,” Nick said.

        “Punk,” Chris said.

        “Shape up and get inside,” Kevin said to Nick.  “Molly’s not here.”

        “What’s she doing?” Nick asked.

        “Working,” Kevin said.

        “What does she do again?”

        “She’s an accountant.”

        “Is she rich?”

        “She has money.”

        “Is she pretty?”

        “Very.”

        “Do you love her?”

        “Do you want something to drink?” Kevin asked Chris.

        “Um, uh, yeah,” Chris said.  He followed Kevin to the kitchen with Howie.  Behind him, he could hear Nick whispering, “What, I just asked, I can ow, ow, ow, stop it!  I just asked, I wasn’t ouch!  Ouch!  Freak!  Fine, okay, okay!”

        Chris observed the Street closely.  Once they were settled around the kitchen, wasting time just being together, things evened out.  Kevin mellowed; Nick calmed.

        Chris was used to seeing tiny little connective moments between JC and Justin, so he looked for them between Nick and Brian.  He wasn’t disappointed; there were hundreds.  But those little flickers were present in every possible pairing combination in the room.  Glances, gestures, shared looks, finished sentences.

        As complete as every one-on-one relationship in *NSYNC was, if there were four of them present, the dynamic was off until the fifth one showed up.  Things were either too wild, or muted.  Chris could just imagine how tight the connection in Kevin’s kitchen would be if AJ were there.

        Kevin showed them an attractive jar of leaves, wanting to get Howie’s opinion.  Howie frowned and said, “Those are rose leaves.”

        Chris looked more closely.  A few years ago, he wouldn’t have known a rose leaf if it had fallen out of his ass, but now?  “Rose leaves,” he agreed.

        “Why are you collecting rose leaves?” Nick asked.

        “Someone’s been sending me flowers,” Kevin said.

        “Who?” Nick asked.

        “I don’t know,” Kevin said.  “A fan.”

        “Let’s send Drew flowers,” Nick said to Brian.  “But it has to be something good.  What have you been getting?” he asked Kevin.

        “Tulips,” Kevin said.  “Carnations.  Daffodils.  What else?” he asked Howie.

        “Hyacinths,” Howie said.

        “Howie’s helped me figure out which flowers mean what, in case it let me know who’s been sending them.  We didn’t get anywhere, besides the fact that now I know that carnations mean ‘yes,’” Kevin said.

        “What did the rest of them mean?” Nick asked.

        Chris caught a flicker between Howie and Brian.

        “Nothing that went together,” Kevin said.  “I wonder if rose leaves are supposed to mean anything.”

        “You could ask Drew.  Drew and Nick know all about that, they did a lot of research before they holy shit that’s why holy shit!”

        “What?” Kevin asked.

        “I know-”  Nick shut his mouth.  Howie was giving a severe glare of death behind Kevin’s back.

        “Drew and Nick researched the meanings of flowers before they got their tattoos,” Brian said, moving in smoothly to cover for Nick.  “They remember a lot of it.  Drew probably knows what flower leaves mean, if they mean anything.”

        “Why would you put meaning in leaves?” Nick asked.  “That’s stupid.  They’re leaves.”

        “We can look it up,” Howie said.

        “What do you know?” Kevin asked Nick.

        “About what?” Nick asked.

        “About these flowers being sent to me.”

        “You have a stalker?” Nick guessed.  “Better keep the curtains closed.”

        “What do you know, Nick?”  Kevin was not amused.  Chris, whose lover thought he was smarter than Lance, at least, was putting a lot of things together and coming up with some interesting drama.  It looked like everybody in the room knew who was behind those flowers, except the person getting them, and that seemed pretty indicative of one thing.

        “Nothing,” Nick said.  “They’re not from me, if that’s what you’re thinking.  I’m already engaged to be married to two people, so I’m not looking to get involved with you.”

        “You’re engaged?” Howie asked.

        “Are you?” Kevin asked.

        Nick held up his left hand.

        Chris watched everybody get all mushy and huggy.  Sure, he loved the guys in his vocal group, too, and they loved him back, but they hid it a lot better than these people.  Backstreet Boys were so passionate about everything.  When they were getting in each other’s faces, they were in each other’s faces.  When they were in love with each other, they were in love with each other.  Too intense for him.

        It felt good, though, to see them get all wrapped up in each other.  Chris decided that he was okay with Nick’s arm being slung around Howie like that, because he was starting to figure out that Nick was one of the most touchy-feely people on the planet.  Nick was almost worse than Joey, if that were possible.

        There was a solid stretch of time where everyone was happy for Nick, and for Brian and Drew, and they discussed how and where to find someone who would perform the ceremony, and they discussed where the ceremony should take place, and they discussed groomsmen.  Nick asked if Kevin could give him away, or if that would be too weird, and Kevin got all wet in the eyes, and Brian, apparently to save Kevin, kindly said that they’d think about it; but Nick caught Kevin looking misty-eyed anyway, and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek.

        What a bunch of sentimental fools.

        Chris had to shake his head.

        Then the conversation started to turn in other directions, and they rambled about for a few minutes, before Kevin asked Nick, “Who’s sending me flowers?”  Chris had to give him points for persistence.

        “How would I know?” Nick asked.  “I’ve been with Drew.  It’s not him.  Brian, is Drew sending Kevin flowers behind our back?”

        “I don’t think so,” Brian said.

        “Who is it, Nick?” Kevin asked.

        “I don’t know,” Nick said.  “Whoever it is must not want you to know, anyway.”

        “I want a straight, direct, honest answer,” Kevin said.

        “Or what?” Nick demanded.  “God, Kevin, give it a rest.  They’re just flowers.  They’re not even flowers, they’re leaves.  What the hell kind of stalker sends leaves?  Did she keep the flowers for herself?  Greedy bitch.”

        “Tell me!” Kevin shouted.

        “Back the fuck off!” Nick shouted back.  “You’re not supposed to know!”

        “Obviously you weren’t supposed to know either, because you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut!”

        “Kevin,” Brian said.

        That one must have hit a nerve, and Kevin must have known it, because he aimed for it again.  “You’ve never been able to keep your fucking mouth shut!  Now the one time I need something from you, you’re trying to clam up!  Give it up, Nick, you’ll spill it eventually.  You might as well tell me now.”

        “Bastard,” Nick said.  “Bastard!  And don’t pull that shit about the one time you need something from me, that’s bullshit, I’d give you anything and you know it, but you have to act so fucking strong all the time like you never need shit from anybody!  It must run in the fucking family.  I’m fucking sick of it.  Admit you need people or guess what, one day you’ll wake up and you’ll have proven your fucking independence so much there won’t be anybody around anymore.  Just like now.  Who do you have now, Kevin?  Molly?”

        Chris would’ve hit him right about then.

        “Get the fuck out of my house!” Kevin shouted.

        “You can’t kick me out!” Nick shouted back.  “Once I go, once we go, who the hell’s left?  You can’t afford to lose us!”

        “Get the fuck out!  Go back to Drew, wherever the hell he is!  We were all better off without you around.  Or can’t you go back to him?  Won’t he take you back now?”

        “Fuck you!  Fuck you!  Fuck you, you motherfucking motherfucker!  I hope when AJ comes back he laughs in your fucking face, you pathetic loser!  He never loved you and he never fucking will!”

        “Go to hell, Nick.  Go to hell.”  Kevin stormed out of the kitchen.

        Brian stormed after him.

        “Oh, shit.”  Howie ran after Brian.

        “Fuck,” Nick said, and kicked the cabinets.

        Chris heard a door slam.  Then he heard yelling.

        Nick winced.  “Fuck,” he said again, and leaned over the table, head on his crossed arms.

        Chris wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be doing.

        Nick laughed without humor.  “Fuck.”

        “This stuff never happens in *NSYNC,” Chris said.

        “You’re all a bunch of girls anyway,” Nick said.  He raised his head and rested his chin on one hand, sighing.  “Fucking up your own life is one thing, but fucking up other people’s…  I should have my jaw wired shut.”

        “It would be an improvement,” Chris admitted.

        “Fuck you,” Nick said without anger.  “Do you hear that?”

        “I hear yelling,” Chris said.

        “Brian’s tearing Kevin a new one.”

        “You gave as good as you got,” Chris said.

        “I know that.  We all know that.  Brian doesn’t care.  As long as I’m Nick and Brian’s Brian, anybody who talks to me like that gets it.  I can tell you what’s happening.  Brian’s going off like there’s no tomorrow, Kevin’s trying to argue back, and Howie’s trying to minimize the damage.  The thing is, I know Brian and Kevin are cousins, but sometimes it’s like they were separated at birth.  They’re totally different people, but they’re exactly the same in a lot of ways.  If anybody else had gone off on me like Kevin just did, Kevin would be ripping them a new one just like Brian’s doing to him now.”

        “Why does everyone protect you so much?”

        “They love me.  They’re used to me being the gullible kid.  I don’t know, it’s a bunch of stuff.  When Brian hurt me they had a front row seat for it, and things haven’t been the same since then.  Especially with Kevin.”  Nick frowned at him.  “Are we having a conversation?”

        “I don’t see how that would be possible,” Chris said.

        “Good,” Nick said.  “So did you and Howie have wild reunion sex?”

        “Yes.”

        “Is he good?”

        “Is he good?  Is he - - does the sun shine?  Is the Pope Catholic?  Are you dumb and blond?”

        “Bite me,” Nick said.

        Brian walked into the kitchen.  “We’re going home.”

        “Now?” Nick asked.  “What-”

        “We’re going home,” Brian repeated.

        “Is-”

        Chris kicked Nick under the table.

        Nick got up and left with Brian.

        Nick tried not to roll his eyes.

        “You’re going to have to learn,” Brian said.

        “Learn what?” Nick asked.  Brian was staring out through the windshield way too hard for the little bit of traffic on the road.

        “When to keep your mouth shut.  How to keep it shut.  It’s called discretion, Nick.”

        “What happened to that bullshit about my honesty being so refreshing?”

        “I don’t want to take your candor away from you.  I want you to learn when and where to say things.”

        “I want you not to sound like you’re lecturing me.  Who the hell put you in authority over my life?”

        “You did.  Deal with it.”

        “Eat me.  Deal with that.”

        Brian parked in the driveway.  “Get in the house.”

        “Get on my dick,” Nick snapped.  “Oh, sorry, was that too honest for you?”

        “I don’t want to fight with you,” Brian warned.

        “Yes, you do.  You’re pissed and frustrated and scared, and you’re taking it out on me and Drew and Kevin and anybody available.  That’s not fucking fair, Brian.”

        “Get in the house.”

        “Get.  On.  My.  Dick.”

        Brian gave him a dark look.  “Get in the house.”

        Nick got out, slamming his car door for good measure.  If Brian wanted to take shit out on him, Brian could fucking take shit out on him, but he reserved the right to give shit in return.  It was all a bunch of bullshit, anyway.  Nick slammed the front door.

        Brian came in after him, not slamming the door because saints didn’t slam doors.  “Go upstairs.”

        Nick stomped up the stairs.

        Brian didn’t stomp, because that wouldn’t have been perfect of him.  “Lie down.”

        “Bite me.”

        “Get on the bed, Nick.”

        “Why?  Get out of my shit!”

        Brian opened another one of Nick’s dresser drawers.  “Get on the bed.”

        “What are you doing?”

        Brian turned around with a black silk scarf in one hand.  “Get on the bed.”

        Nick dropped onto his ass, landing on the bed with a bounce.  “Holy shit.”

        Brian advanced.

        “No, no, no,” Nick said, backing up towards the headboard, one hand out to ward off Brian.  “No, no, don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare.”

        Brian paused.  “You think you can be quiet without it?”

        “Yes, yes, whatever, just don’t.”

        “Aren’t you the one who’s always talking about-”

        “You know I’m full of shit, you know I can’t handle that, you know I’m a pussy when it comes to that stuff.  Remember how bad I flipped last time you cuffed me?”

        “You’ll be quiet?”

        “My lips are so fucking sealed, just don’t put that on me.  Gag me with your dick if you have to, just no restraints.  You know I can’t handle that.”

        “All right.”  Brian let it drift to the floor.  “Now, listen to me.”

        “Listening,” Nick said, trying to relax.

        “I want you on your back, and quiet.”

        “Quiet,” Nick repeated, sliding down to his back.

        Brian climbed over him.  “You’re going to learn not to speak.  I’m going to talk.  I’m going to ask questions.  You are going to stay silent.  No words.  No words at all.  Do you understand me?”

        “Yes,” Nick said.  “I mean, shit.  Oldest trick in the book, Brian, that’s not even fair.”

        “No words,” Brian said.  “In fact, keep your mouth shut.  Literally.  Teeth together.  Lips together.  Do not open your mouth for anything.  I love your honesty, I love your candor, I love it when you’re uncensored.  But sometimes it’s best to stay quiet.  You’re going to practice, and I’m going to help you.”

        Nick licked his lips and closed his mouth.

        “Good.”  Brian kissed his cheek.  “Take off your shirt.”  Brian crawled down the bed.

        Nick had questions, but he just frowned at Brian and stripped to the waist while Brian took off his sneakers and socks for him.  Then Brian pushed him flat on his back again.

        “You know we don’t have to talk to make love,” Brian said.  “Your body tells me what it wants without words.”  He skimmed his hand down Nick’s chest.  “For instance, right now, you want me to get off you and let you up.  You don’t have to say anything for me to know that.”

        Nick glared at him.

        “Remember all of those times you dared me to gag you?  All of the times you whispered in my ear how you’d look?  All of the times you told me you wanted it, and you knew I wanted it.  And I’d kiss you, hard, wanting to shut you up because you always knew how to push my buttons.  I’ve thought about gagging you, but I never wanted to do it, because I like it when you talk in bed.  I like the things you say, and the sounds you make; and I like to look at your mouth.  If you’re gagged, I can’t kiss you, and I love to feed on your mouth.”  Brian’s fingertips ghosted over Nick’s stubbornly closed lips.  “I love to feed on you everywhere.”

        Nick didn’t say it, but he thought it: pervert.

        “I love your mouth, Nick.”  Brian touched it again.  “Nick.”

        Nick waited.

        Brian kissed Nick’s chest, taking a southward path, licking Nick’s navel.  “You talk a lot.  You always talk when we make love.  It’s not going to be the same without that.”

        Nick reached one hand down past Brian’s chin and tugged at his fly.

        Brian looked up his body and smiled.  “Do you think you deserve that?”

        Nick nodded.

        Brian licked his lips.

        Nick pressed his lips together to remind himself not to respond.

        Brian slid down another few inches and cupped his hand between Nick’s thighs, feeling Nick up in a rolling, squeezing motion.  Nick breathed hard through his nose, raising one knee, suddenly a lot harder than he’d just been.

        Brian started crawling back up Nick’s body, looking concerned.  “Nick, you weren’t hard.  That hurts my feelings.  Don’t you find me attractive?”  Brian leaned all up in his face, all sparkly blue eyes and cheekbones for days, with his hair curling onto his forehead just the way Nick liked it.  Nick would have laughed at the absurdity of the question, because no one found Brian more attractive than he did, except just then Brian sat his happy ass right on Nick’s dick and started rocking.

        Nick was no longer amused.

        Brian, the smug bastard with the angel’s eyes, knew Nick found him attractive.  Attractive?  Attractive?!  Brian wasn’t attractive, Brian wasn’t even beautiful, Brian was perfect.  Real angels should look that good.  Hell, Nick didn’t spend hours obsessively kissing on Brian’s face because Brian was somewhat good-looking.

        And rubbing his ass against Nick’s dick, that was fucking unfair.  Pricktease.

        “Don’t you want me, Nick?” Brian asked, and the motherfucker ever so slightly hollowed his cheeks, because he knew that got Nick’s dick going every time.  “What can I do to make you want me?”

        He could suck Nick’s dick, that’s what he could do.  Especially if he wanted to suck in his cheeks like that to emphasize that bone structure.  Yeah, he could suck Nick’s big fat dick.  Nick glared.

        Brian was the most lazy-ass country-ass white boy dancer Nick knew.  But when Brian was in bed, his hips were part of a fluidly moving well-oiled machine.  He could rock, roll, and rotate however the hell he wanted.  Whatever he was doing at the moment all over Nick’s dick was making the situation in Nick’s pants extremely urgent.

        Thank god, Brian was getting off him.

        Hell, no, Brian was not - - Nick closed his eyes, fighting for his own sanity, as Brian starting grinding pelvis to pelvis, dick to dick.  Not only was this creating hellagood friction on Nick’s dick, but now he could feel how hard Brian was, and that always got him hotter.  Brian knew it, too.

        “Don’t you want me, Nick?” Brian whispered, and if that bastard was making his accent thicker on purpose, Nick was kicking his ass.  “Tell me you want me.  Tell me what you want to do to me.  Tell me how you want to fuck me.”

        Nick squeezed his eyes shut tighter, rocking up against Brian, willing himself not to answer.  He wanted to answer.  He always told Brian those things.  When it was the two of them, skin on skin, heat on heat, he’d tell Brian everything he wanted, everything he’d ever fantasized about.  Sometimes Brian listened to the words; sometimes it was just the sound of his voice that got Brian off.  Sometimes Brian asked questions, questions like the ones just asked, and Nick would answer, and Brian would start getting hotter, and whatever they were doing would get faster and harder as Brian pushed up the intensity in response to his words, and just when Nick really got going, they’d come.

        “Tell me,” Brian whispered, getting off of him.  He felt Brian’s hands on his fly; his hips jerked.  Brian pulled his dick out through his open fly, and Brian’s hand felt incredible, and Nick wanted to come, because maybe if he came Brian would let him talk again.

        “Fuck me,” Brian said.  “Fuck me like you fuck Drew.”

        Oh, god, that was unfair.  Nick’s hips jacked up off of the bed, an instinctual fucking motion.  He turned his head to the side, one hand over his eyes, remembering working his dick inside Drew, Drew melting and zoning and begging for it.  He remembered opening Drew up and easing inside, slowly fucking, fucking for the sake of fucking, for the feel of it, Drew under him panting and coming.  He couldn’t do that to Brian, he could never do that to Brian, Brian was Brian, Brian was different.

        God, but what if he could, what if he could make love to Brian just for the sake of it, what if he could do that slow steady thrusting inside Brian just to make Brian feel it, just to watch the pleasure on Brian’s face?

        But he didn’t make Brian feel the way he made Drew felt.

        Did he?

        Could he?

        “Nick.”  Brian’s voice was up close again.  Nick opened his eyes.  Brian was inhumanly pretty, and still had one hand on his dick, slowly pumping.  “Nick, kiss me.”

        Oh, hell, he was going to get Brian back for this.

        Brian kissed his lips, kissed his cheek.  “Kiss me, Nick.  Kiss me back.”

        Nick pushed Brian away, too close to orgasm to deal with this torture.

        Brian refused to be pushed.  He started licking Nick’s lips.

        Oh, hell, one little kiss wouldn’t-

        Nick cried out in pain.

        “Keep your mouth closed,” Brian said.

        Nick hit Brian and glared, pushing Brian’s hand out of the way, cupping his abused balls.  Bastard.

        “Resist the temptation to open your mouth,” Brian said.

        Brian could resist Nick’s dick, because Nick wasn’t playing this shit anymore.  He pushed Brian aside and started to get out of bed.

        “Nick,” Brian said, tugging on his arm.  “Come back.  Play with me.”

        Hell no.

        “Nick.”

        Nick peeked.

        Brian raised his shirt a few inches, baring his stomach.

        Old trick.  Nick wasn’t falling for that one.

        Brian’s other hand went to his fly and undid the button.

        Nick faltered.

        The zipper slid down.

        Nick knew how hard Brian was, had felt it, was about to see it, and his heart was going through weird patterns already.

        Brian’s hand dipped inside the open fly, inside Brian’s underwear, and Brian’s eyes narrowed, then closed.  His hand was moving slowly, in a devastating rhythm Nick recognized.  “I want you to…suck it…”

        Nick was on his knees beside the bed before he felt himself moving.  Brian, kneeling on the mattress, grunted softly, his hand fisting over his dick.  Nick yanked down Brian’s pants, baring what he wanted to see.  Nick’s stomach flipped and his dick started a deep painful throbbing and he leaned in for-

        “Keep your mouth closed,” Brian reminded him without looking.

        Nick jerked back and stared up at Brian in shock.

        Brian’s fingers passed over the head in slow motion.

        Nick’s mouth watered.  Asking him not to put his mouth on Brian’s dick was like asking JC not to touch Justin.  Sucking Brian off was what he did.  He enjoyed it, he loved it, and he was very, very good at it.  He was fucking fantastic.  A part of him even needed to do it, needed it, needed Brian’s dick.  He wanted to put his lips around it, he wanted to lick over it, he wanted to take it in his mouth and-

        “Oh, god, I miss your mouth,” Brian groaned.

        Nick took Brian’s hips in his hands.

        Pre-cum was seeping from the head.

        Nick pulled Brian’s hips closer.

        “I want your mouth,” Brian said.  He was pulling and squeezing pretty hard, too close to orgasm to play around, and Nick knew he meant every word.  Brian wasn’t enjoying this shit any more than he was.  Brian was as addicted to him as he was to Brian, and Brian was as used to getting off in Nick’s mouth as Nick was to swallowing Brian’s dick, and neither one of them liked the idea of Brian coming on his own without Nick’s involvement.  Nick was involved with every orgasm Brian had.  Nick was every orgasm Brian had.

        Nick stood, taking Brian around the waist, bearing Brian back down onto the bed.  He pressed Brian into the mattress, lifting Brian’s hand, tangling their fingers.  He buried his face in Brian’s neck, closing his eyes, and used his free hand to spread Brian’s thighs.

        Brian groaned against his shoulder, shuddering beneath him.  “Nick.”

        Lube snatched off the bedside table, one finger for preparation, and Nick pushed in.  Brian moved beneath him, face revealing a quick spasm of discomfort, tighter than hell on his dick.  Nick fucked Brian as deep as he could, forcing deep jolts of pleasure on Brian’s body, watching Brian’s face.  There was a red blush of color on Brian’s cheeks and Nick’s name on his lips when he came.

        Nick came.

        He rested his forehead on Brian’s.

        They gazed into each other’s eyes.

        They breathed together.

        Brian kissed his mouth, eyes never leaving his.  “I love you,” Brian said.

        “I love you,” Nick said, his first words.

        Joey sat in the passenger seat, going through Lance’s CD’s.  He didn’t know what to say to Lance anymore.

        “Did you tell Nick where to meet us?” Lance asked.

        “Yeah.”  Here was his opening.  “I don’t know how this is going to go.”

        “Meaning what?”

        “Meaning you hit Brian.”

        Lance shrugged.

        “You accused Brian of cheating on Nick, and then you hit him.  Nick won’t let that go.  If you two are fighting, how are we going to help Justin?”

        “Brian shouldn’t have told Nick what I said.  If he did, that’s his problem.  Besides, it’s probably nothing Nick doesn’t already know about.  Brian deserved what he got.”

        “What are you talking about?” Joey asked.

        “Do you remember, in Kendig, when you told me you saw a hickey on AJ’s neck?”

        Joey thought back.

        “We ended up finding AJ in the hotel restaurant, with Kevin, only we were so stupid we didn’t know that Kevin had done it.”

        “Yeah,” Joey said.  “I remember.”

        “Going through the hotel, trying to track AJ down, I saw Brian and Nick in the hallway.  Not Nick Carter, Nick Lachey.  They were standing so close to each other, my first thought was, they’d better watch it or someone’s going to get the wrong idea.  Guess what I heard Brian say.”

        “What?” Joey asked.  It had to be something out of context, something that would make sense-

        “He said that he was in love with Nick.  And then he started touching Nick’s mouth.  He’d already been stroking Nick’s face.”

        “He said what?”

        “He said, ‘I’m in love with you.’  To his brother-in-law.  Before that he said something about Drew telling Jeff that he had a crush on Nick, and-”

        “What?”

        “Drew.  Told Jeff.  That Brian.  Had a crush.  On Nick Lachey,” Lance said, using his I’m-talking-to-an-idiot voice.  “Brian, caressing Nick Lachey’s face, said that it wasn’t a crush, it was love.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “If Brian is willing to stand in a public hallway stroking the man’s face and telling him he loves him, then what is he doing behind closed doors?”

        “Being faithful?” Joey asked, feeling nausea roll through his gut.

        “We all know that there was supposed to be a big scandal when Nick went to 98 Degrees’ tour, because ever since Jeff hit Nick, Brian and Nick cut themselves off from the in-laws.  Why the hell was it that big a deal?  Why did Jeff hit Nick?  Why did Brian overreact?  Something’s going on.”

        “We have no idea what’s happening,” Joey said.  “You can’t assume they’re fucking, that’s-”

        “All I know is, pure innocent self-righteous Brian Littrell was moving in on his husband’s brother.  And ever since Kendig, whatever went down that week-”

        “You don’t know what happened.  What did Nick even say after Brian said that?”

        “I don’t know.  I was too busy running after AJ to stay.”

        “Maybe they were-”

        “What, rehearsing a scene for their high school play?  I don’t think so, Joey.  Your righteous saint was trying to get in his brother-in-law’s pants.”  Lance parked.  “Let’s go.”

        Joey couldn’t take this.  It couldn’t be true.  It couldn’t possibly be true.  Brian?

        Howie, quiet, a little sad around the eyes, came back to the kitchen.  “Come on.  I have to run a quick errand for Kevin.”

        “Is he okay?” Chris asked.

        “He’ll be fine.”

        Chris wondered if Kevin was always “fine,” and if maybe that was why Kevin didn’t seem to be fine at all.  When they were outside, getting in the car, he asked, “Those flowers are from AJ, aren’t they?”

        Howie started the car.

        “He can’t do that to Lance,” Chris said.  “Lance loves him.  Lance loves him!”

        “Kevin loves him,” Howie said, looking through the windshield, in the rearview mirror, at the gearshift, not at Chris.

        “After what he’s put Lance through-”

        “You don’t know what he’s put Kevin through.”

        “Lance loves him!  He’s just going to walk out on that?  Like it never existed?  Like Lance isn’t broken in his wake?  Lance is tearing himself apart over AJ, and tearing up the rest of us right along with him!”

        “AJ makes his own choices.”  Howie ground the gears.

        “He’s treating Lance like shit!  How do you do that to someone you said you loved?”

        “I’m sorry!” Howie shouted.

        Chris jumped back, colliding with the door.

        Howie didn’t move.

        Chris swallowed.

        “I’m sorry,” Howie said again, more controlled this time.  “I’m sorry for a lot of things.  AJ’s made mistakes.  I’ve made mistakes.  We’ve damaged people we love.  He’s trying to do what’s right.  Someone has to be hurt.  AJ’s not enjoying this, he’s not getting off on causing Lance pain.  He loved Lance.  But he has to make his choices.”

        “Howie…”

        “I know that you don’t want to see Lance destroyed.  I don’t want to see Kevin destroyed.  Neither one of us can make AJ do what we want.”

        “Kevin can take it,” Chris said.  “Lance can’t.”

        “Lance isn’t trying very hard.”

        “That’s not fair.”

        “I’m sorry for what happened,” Howie said, hand flexing on the gearshift.

        “I didn’t mean to-”

        “Yes, you did.”

        “No, I didn’t.”

        “I can’t drive this fucking car,” Howie said, and got out.

        Chris was out of his seatbelt and out of the door as fast as he could be, coming around the car to take Howie in his arms.  He’d meant to be reassuring, meant to ease Howie’s pain and maybe some of his own, but the second Howie’s arms came around him, there was a crackle of electricity and he knew he was in for it.  Howie must have been storing up a lot of tension, and it was about to come out.

        This was not suave, seductive Howie.  This was I’m going to fuck you on this car in broad daylight Howie.  Chris was on the hood on his back, one foot on the ground and one on the bumper, being kissed to death and groped to death at the same time.  He hoped he wasn’t scratching Howie’s custom paint job, and he hoped the neighbors weren’t watching, and he hoped he didn’t come in his pants.

        Something was ringing.

        Howie was ringing.

        Chris lifted the cell phone from Howie’s front pocket, handing it to Howie.

        Howie stopped kissing Chris, lifting up slightly, flipping his hair over his shoulder.  That was Chris’s fault; shouldn’t have pulled it down again.  Yeah, right.  “Hello?”  Howie sounded a little out of breath.  Chris took a quick look around, then ran his fingers down the bulge of Howie’s erection.  Howie gently held Chris’s fingers still, trapping them in his free hand.  “All right.  Bye.”

        That was it?  Long conversation.

        Howie pulled Chris to his feet.  “Kevin wants us to run his errand first.  He said if we still feel like having sex in public after that, we should have the courtesy to do it in our own driveway.”

        “Rude,” Chris said.

        Howie kissed him.  “Would you like to drive?”

        “Where are we going?”

        “Kevin’s looking into buying a house.  We’re picking up some papers from the realtor.”

        “We’re picking up his paperwork?” Chris asked, getting into the car.

        “Don’t you do things for your friends?”

        “My friends have fully functioning modes of transportation.”

        “I wanted to show you this house, anyway.  It’s the most beautiful home I’ve ever seen.”

        “And here I thought you were well-travelled,” Chris said, backing out onto the street.

        “Chris, it’s gorgeous.  Hardwood floors, high ceilings, fireplaces-”

        “Walls?  Windows?  Does it come with doorknobs, or are those-”

        “This is my dream house.”

        “Maybe you should steal it from Kevin.  Maybe you and Kevin could move in together.  That would be a great deal for him, since he’ll need a live-in servant to run all of those pesky errands for him.”

        “Turn left.”

        Chris paused at the stop sign, watching Howie fix his hair.  Once Howie was done, Chris resisted the urge to undo it again, and resumed driving.

        When they got to their destination, Chris stared.

        “Wouldn’t you love to live there?” Howie asked.  “It’s huge.  I don’t know what he’s going to do with it.”

        “It’s big,” Chris agreed.

        “It’s so big it’s too big.  The ceilings are so high they’re too high.  Everything about it is too much.”

        “That’s right up your alley.”

        Howie smiled.  “That’s why I love it.  Come inside.”

        “We’re breaking in?”

        “The realtor gave him a key.”

        “Is that good business practice?”

        “Chris, just come inside.”

        Chris followed Howie.  He got an enthusiastic guided tour, paying more attention to Howie than to the actual points of interest.  The rooms were huge, the furnishings were lush, and Howie loved it all down to each little detail.

        “I’m guessing you’re going to be visiting Kevin every day, just to spend time here,” Chris said as they wandered out the front door again.  “You don’t think it’s too big?”

        “He can afford it,” Howie said.

        “How much does it cost?” Chris asked.

        “He never told me.  It has to be expensive.”  Howie was gazing over the landscaping.  “I love it here.”

        “It’s a house, Howie.  Just a house.”

        Howie turned; a car was pulling up in the drive.  The realtor got out; Howie introduced them.  She handed over some papers; Chris looked through them idly while Howie asked her about the fountain and hot tub in the back.  While she took the opportunity to steer Howie around the side of the house, Chris scrounged up a pen and signed at the proper places.  When they walked back again, Chris was leaning against the car, whistling, fanning himself with the papers.

        Everybody said good-bye and got into the cars.  As Howie was starting the engine, Chris said, “Oh!” and jumped out.  He ran over to the realtor’s car and pretended to have an urgent realty question.  He hoped that Howie wasn’t watching closely enough to see them sort out the paperwork.  He blessed her heart and went back to Howie.

        “What was that?” Howie asked as Chris buckled his seatbelt.

        “Her last name, I wondered if she was related to my sister’s cousin’s father-in-law’s daughter’s niece’s first husband’s veterinarian,” Chris said.  “Turns out, she wasn’t.”

        Howie looked at him.

        “But I think she was lying,” Chris said.

        “I’m sure she was,” Howie said.

        “Now where are we going?”

        “Back to Kevin’s to drop off the papers.”

        “Let’s go home.  If he wanted them that badly, he could have gotten them himself.  Lazy bastard.”

        “It’ll be quick.”

        “I thought you were going to take me home to grope me in our driveway.”

        Howie smiled.  “Home it is.”

        “I have great tongue control.”  Nick licked the air.  “Just ask your dick.”

        “How are you going to treat Lance?”

        “Before or after I break his nose?”

        “No.  You are going to be nice.  You are going to be friendly.  Don’t give him an inch.  Don’t let him know he’s done any damage.  Confuse him.  Be nice.  Be friendly.  You don’t have a care in the world.  He hasn’t affected us.”

        “What?  What are you, evil?  I’m supposed to be nice to him after what he’s done?”

        “Yes.”

        “Before or after I rip off his kneecaps?”

        “Be nice.”

        “Be nice.  Be nice.  Be nice,” Nick said to himself.

        Brian kissed him.  “Call Drew.”

        “Be good to JC.”

        “Be good to Justin.”

        “Yeah, right.”

        Brian kissed him again.  “I’m going to miss you.”

        “Don’t get mushy.”

        “I love you, Nick.”

        “That’s mushy.  I love you, too.”  Nick watched Brian walk out through the front door, get in the car, and leave.  “Bye,” he said softly.  He closed the door, and he was alone.

        JC was reading paperwork.

        Justin was reading over JC’s shoulder.

        Joey was trying to smile for their sake.

        “Drew.”  Nick didn’t know what to say next.  “How are, are you, I mean-”

        “I’m fine,” Drew said.  “Have you kidnapped Justin yet?”

        Nick could tell that Drew was going to be impossible.  He ignored the glaringly obvious diversion tactic and stayed on-topic.  “What do you mean by fine?”

        “I mean I’m fine,” Drew said.

        “Give the phone to Jeff.”

        “Why?”

        “So I can talk to him.”

        “Don’t leave me.”

        Nick scrambled to pick his jaw up off the floor.  Damn, Drew had just gone vulnerable and needy on him in one second flat.  “I won’t, I’m right here, I’m here.  What’s going on?”

        “Nothing,” Drew said.

        “Will you talk to me?!  You can’t be all plastic ice and then show me the real stuff and then go back to plastic ice again.”

        “Plastic ice?” Drew repeated.

        “Tell me what’s going on.”

        “Talk to me,” Drew said.  “I miss you and I really need you right now.  Keep me company.  Tell me anything, just be here with me.”

        “You want me to ramble and Brian just worked me over trying to get me to keep my mouth closed.  I have good stuff to tell you, Drew.  Lots of good stuff.  I’ll tell you stuff if you tell me stuff.  Information for information.  We’ll trade.  I’ll go first.  Brian fucked me in the back of a limo.  Your turn.”

        “I didn’t sleep alone last night,” Drew whispered.

        Nick closed his eyes, tried to accept it, rejected it, and asked, “Nick?”

        “Jeff.  It was just sleep, it wasn’t, nothing came close to happening.  I didn’t even want to do anything, I wasn’t interested in that, but I was…  I was scared, and I was alone, and…”

        Nick closed his eyes, accepted it, and opened his eyes.  “That’s okay, Drew.  That’s comfort.  You needed comfort and that’s what Jeff’s for, to be strong and safe when you’re scared.  Did it help?”

        “At the time.  Now I feel worse than ever.  I’m afraid of being caught and accused, so I jump into bed with-”

        “That wasn’t jumping into bed.  It doesn’t sound like jumping anywhere.  You needed security.  Jeff gave you that.  It’s what Jeff does.  I go to Jeff all of the time.  I’ve been so scared and alone I’ve slept with Kevin, and you know that’s not about sex.”

        “That’s true,” Drew said, and Nick felt glad to hear a little drop of light in Drew’s voice.

        “So ever since last night, what, you’ve been avoiding Jeff?”

        “Yes.”

        “When’s the last time you made eye contact with Nick?”

        “I don’t remember.  Yesterday.”

        “Drew, don’t make me come over there.  You know better than this.  You’re stronger than this.”

        “The back of a limo?”

        “Drew.  Listen to me.  You cannot run away from Nick.  Where is he now?”

        “I’ve never had sex in a limo.”

        “Andrew!  Where is he?”

        “Around.”

        “Go find him.  Walk.  Are you walking?  Find him.”

        “I know where he is.”

        “Walk up to him right now.  I fought with Brian today, I fought with Kevin, I can fight with you if I have to, but I love you and I don’t want to, so don’t make me.  Walk up to Nick.”

        Stubborn silence.  Angry silence.

        “Are you there?”

        “No.”

        “Get there.”

        “No.”

        “I can out-stubborn any stubborn you give me.  I can out-bitch any bitch you give me, too, just so you know.”

        “I don’t want to deal with him right now.”

        “Is anyone telling him what’s going on?”

        “No.”

        “But he has to know something’s wrong.”

        “Yes.”

        “So he’s probably worrying himself crazy.”

        “Yes.”

        “And following you around, wishing he could help, driving you nuts, too.”

        “Yes.”

        “Somebody should tell him.”

        “We can’t tell him!  This is hard enough as it is.  It would tear Nick apart and I’m not doing that to him.  Everything I go through, he goes through, only it’s worse for him because he thinks he’s supposed to protect me, like we’re ten years apart instead of three.  This is about to destroy me, and I know it would destroy him, and I am not doing that,” Drew said, his voice low and intense.

        “It affects him, too.  He has the right to know.  If anything else happens, he’ll be blind-sided.”

        “I’m not telling him.”

        “I’ll tell him.”

        “I think you’ve told enough people enough things already.”

        That hurt.  That hurt.  It hurt because it was true, and it hurt because it came from Drew.

        Drew didn’t say anything else.

        “I’m sorry,” Nick said.  His voice tore around the edges.

        “It’s done,” Drew said.  “We all made mistakes.”

        Nick hurt.  Drew hurt.  Breathing hurt.

        “Good-bye, Nick.”  Drew hung up.

        Nick was alone with the silence.

        Joey wanted to talk to him, but what could Joey even say?  Lance could have been mistaken.  Hell, at this point, Lance could be outright lying.  And whether or not Brian was hitting on the in-laws, was that any of Joey’s business?  What right did he have to pry into Brian’s personal affairs?

        It was hard, difficult, impossible to believe that Brian, Brian, whose crystal blue eyes and warm smile still sucked him in, could have lied to him.  Because if Brian were professing love for Nick Lachey, then all of those beautiful words about loving Nick and Drew were bullshit.  And all of those beautiful words had sounded so true…

        Brian had explained love to JC.  Cupid and Venus couldn’t have explained love to JC.  And all of those things that Brian had said, his intensity, his passion…

        Either Lance was wrong, or Brian was a brilliantly manipulative sociopathic mastermind.

        When Brian spoke, his words tended to come out sounding like absolute truths.  There was an integrated soundness behind his statements.  A quiet force.  Was it all faked?  Was it all egomania?  Or was it real?

        Joey watched Brian for a clue.  He wanted to believe.

        Brian was moving around, mostly talking with JC, signing papers, talking to Justin, a little quiet, very friendly.  He even interacted with Lance, and it was warm, if brief.  Maybe he’d forgiven Lance?  Gotten over it?  Moved past it?

        If what Lance had said were true, then Lance had major information on Brian.  Blackmail information, basically.  Then wouldn’t Brian be afraid?  Angry?  Brian was acting almost as happy to conduct business with Lance as he was to talk to JC.  Would he do that if he were worried that Lance had something over him that would do that much damage to his reputation?

        Brian sat on the edge of the table, right beside where Joey was seated, giving him a smile.  “You’re awfully quiet, Joey.  How are things in your world?”

        “Good.  It’s good to be home.  Don’t know why I ran right out again to sit around with these bums.”

        “You just can’t stay away, can you, Joey?” Justin asked.

        “How’s Drew these days?” Joey asked, hoping the question didn’t sound as abrupt to Brian as it did to him.

        “Amazing,” Brian said.  “He’s evolving, he’s coming into himself.  It was so hard to leave him.”

        “Did you get a chance to talk to Nick about the high notes in ‘There without You?’” JC asked.

        Brian laughed.  “JC, I was there for one night, and I was there for Drew.  I didn’t even talk to Nick.  But we can call him.”

        Brian had flown all the way out to 98 Degrees’ tour, and not even spoken to Nick.  That didn’t support Lance’s theory very well.  “Drew must have been excited to see you.”

        “Surprised,” Brian said.  “Very surprised.  Nick was, too.  My Nick.  They were happy to see me.  I was so happy to see them, ‘happy’ doesn’t come close to describing it.  Being with Nick and Drew again was like putting myself back together as a whole.  They complete me in ways I can’t begin to explain.”

        “I love to hear other people being in love,” Justin said.  “You know, JC, if I listen to Brian long enough, I start to think he might love Nick and Drew almost as much as you love me.”

        “That’s not possible, baby,” JC said.  “Don’t you know that no one else will ever love anyone the way I love you?  No one else’s love comes close to what I feel for you, Justin.”

        “No offense,” Lance said to Brian.

        “None taken,” Brian said with a smile.  “I’ve felt the same way.”

        “About me?” Justin asked, grinning at Brian.

        “Sorry, no,” Brian said.

        “I think I’m done here,” Lance said, slipping papers into an envelope.  “Anybody want to get something to eat?”

        “I’m starving,” Justin said, throwing himself into the trap to save them any effort.

        “I can always eat,” Joey said.

        “We should stay,” Brian said to JC.  “Especially if we want to figure out how we want to work ‘There without You,’ so we can see if Nick can handle it.”

        “Yeah,” JC said.  “If Nick can’t take it, do you want it, or should we try Chris?”

        “I’d rather have you sing it,” Brian said.

        “I can’t go to lunch, now,” Justin said.  “I have to hear the outcome of this discussion.  The suspense!”

        “No, come on,” Joey said, dragging Justin from his chair.  “We’re leaving the creative geniuses to their work.”

        “I don’t know, this is pretty fascinating,” Justin said.  He was playing it cool, but everyone in the room knew he didn’t want to leave JC.  Leave JC?  Go off and leave JC behind?

        “Go on, Justin,” JC said.  “Let me know what they say about me behind my back.”

        “The same things we say to your face,” Lance said.

        “Yeah.  You’re a flaming queen who can’t dress that we love like nobody else,” Joey said, and gave JC a too-tight squeeze.

        Justin shooed Joey off, then leaned in from behind JC’s chair, putting his arms around JC’s shoulders, kissing JC’s cheek.  “You should get something to eat, too, JC.”

        “We’ll get something when we’re done here,” JC said.

        “I’ll bring something back for you,” Justin promised, kissing JC’s temple, being very cool about not wanting to let go.

        “You’re so good to me, baby,” JC said, and twisted enough to press his lips to Justin’s.  “I love you, Justin.”

        “I love you, JC.”  Justin kissed JC again, then let go.  “All right, let’s get out of here.  The big stars have their work to do.  We little people will get out of their way.”

        “Appreciate it,” Brian said, smiling.

        JC watched Justin go.

        The door closed.

        JC scratched his temple and visibly returned his focus to his work, looking down, then at Brian.  “Why didn’t we ask Nick how high he can sing?”

        “I don’t know, but let’s find out,” Brian said, relieved that things were going well.  Getting Justin away from JC had been remarkably easy…at least, at step one.

        “It’s the eyebrows.  I look evil.  I’ve been told,” Chris said.

        “I love it,” soft kiss, “but why are you frowning now?”

        “I was thinking.”

        “Thinking about what?”

        “Thinking about how quiet you’re being.”

        “I’ve been thinking,” Howie said.

        “That’s my answer.  You can’t take my answer.”

        Howie sat on the couch.

        Chris sat beside him.

        “This is our house because we live here together, but originally it was my house.  You live here, but look around.  It’s mostly my house, my furniture, my things, my decorating, with your things around the edges.  I want us to live in a place that’s ours, a place where we both start out together.  I was wondering how you’d feel about…starting to look at houses.”

        “Houses,” Chris repeated.

        “I know it’s a big step.  I don’t want to push.  If you’re uncomfortable, tell me.  I’m just thinking that I want us to live together in our house, not together in my house.”

        “Yeah.”  Chris examined his fingernails.

        Howie put his hand over Chris’s.  His eyes were compassionate.  “What do you think?”

        “I don’t know,” Chris said.  “We’re already living together, but that would be different.”

        “It would be ours,” Howie said for him.

        “Yeah.”

        “I want that,” Howie said, sliding his fingers between Chris’s.  “I want us to start a life together in a house that’s ours.”

        “Well, I like living with you,” Chris said.  “We’re already doing that, and that’s working out okay.”

        “I like living with you, too,” Howie said.

        Chris rubbed his thumb over Howie’s thumb.  Howie’s hands were a little bigger than his.  “I guess if we found a place we liked, we could live there, instead of here.”

        “A place we both like,” Howie said.

        “Yeah.”  Chris brought Howie’s hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over the back of it.

        “I don’t want to push,” Howie said.

        “A little pushing’s okay.”  Chris ruminated, idly inspecting the tendons on the back of Howie’s hand.  “Getting a new house is a big step.  Moving in together.  Furnishing.  Decorating.  Deciding who does what, what goes where, all of that stuff.”

        “It’s a big commitment,” Howie said, finally using the word Chris had been trying like hell to avoid.

        “We could,” Chris said.  “We could start looking at houses.  Nose around a little.  See if there’s anything we like.”

        “Neither one of us is very hard to please,” Howie said.

        “Was that a remark on my sexual activities?” Chris asked.

        “No,” Howie said.

        “Okay.  Just checking.”

        Howie gently squeezed Chris’s fingers.  “We can just look.  We can ask…what was her name?  Kevin’s realtor?”

        “Uh…Barbara?” Chris guessed, like he didn’t know her first name, her last name, her phone number, her e-mail address, and the fact that she didn’t like to be called more than five times a day on her day off.

        “We could ask her to look around for us.”

        “Yeah.”  Chris closed his eyes when Howie kissed him.

        “After we eat, can we run up to Terry’s house?” Joey asked.  “She’s out of town and she asked me to check on it for her.”

        “Which one is Terry?” Justin asked.

        “The one with ‘Daddy’ tattooed on her ass,” Joey said.

        “Why do you only date freaky girls?” Justin asked.

        “Why do you only marry freaky guys?” Joey asked.

        “JC isn’t freaky,” Justin said.

        “JC’s kind of freaky,” Lance said.

        “Damn, my battery’s dead.  Can I see your phone?” Joey asked Justin.

        “Yeah,” Justin said, handing it forward.  “JC is not freaky.”

        “If JC’s freaky, does that make you freaky, too?” Joey asked.

        “I know I’m not freaky,” Justin said.  “Don’t hate on me just because I get laid better than you do.”

        “Nobody gets laid better than I do,” Joey said.

        “Except the people you’re doing,” Lance said.

        Joey was so rattled, he spent the next few minutes with a gibbering monkey inside his brain accompanied by hot flashes of memory.

        Chris knew that he was somewhat addled.  He’d bought a house for Howie not as a grand gesture, not to show off, not to make Howie owe him, and not even to take a step in building a life together.  He’d done it because he wanted Howie to have nice things.  He could have bought Howie clothes or artwork or even jewelry, maybe even a car if he wanted something on a larger scale.  But, no.  He’d gone out and bought Howie a freaking house.  He knew he was nuts, because the same night he’d decided to buy a house for Howie, JC had decided to buy a house for Justin.  The one JC had chosen was, of course, a fucking mansion with a mammoth price tag, unlike the gorgeously understated fabulously luxurious not-quite-a-mansion-but-costs-as-much-as-one place Chris had purchased for Howie.  Then again, who the hell cared?  He’d had the house shown to Howie, and Howie had liked it, and Howie had wanted it, and that meant that Chris was going to make sure Howie got it.  Howie deserved nice things.  Howie was a wonderful person who laughed at Chris’s jokes and had soft, full lips.  Therefore, Chris wanted to do whatever he could to make sure that Howie lived in comfort and style.

        Chris decided that he was not at all freaked out over knowing that at any second Howie would find the papers and know what he'd done.

        He heard the sound of the sliding glass door as Howie stepped outside.  Howie could move with soft grace when he wanted to, like he was trying not to disturb anything or be obvious about drawing attention.  Howie could be very still, too.  Chris couldn’t sit still when he was being paid to do it.

        Howie’s voice, behind him, soft: “Did you really buy me that house?”

        Chris jiggled his knee up and down.  “Yeah.”

        “Thank you.”  Howie was closer now, and had a hand on Chris’s back.  Chris scooted forward, and Howie sat behind him, thighs hugging his.  “It’s beautiful.”

        “You’re beautiful.”

        Howie’s hand was on his thigh; Howie’s chin was on his shoulder.  “No one’s ever given me anything like this before.”

        “Fools, all of them.”

        Howie’s hand was on Chris’s chest, now.  “I love you.”

        “I love you.”

        “You don’t need to give me things to show me that.”

        “I wanted to.”

        “Thank you.  It’s very, very special.  Before, it was a house that I wanted to live in.  Now, it’s the house that Chris loved me enough, and knew me well enough, to give to me.”

        “That Chris is some special guy.”

        “Yes, he is.”

        Chris reached back and drew a strand of Howie’s hair forward, over his own shoulder, examining it for split ends he knew he wouldn’t find.

        Howie wrapped his arms around Chris.

        Chris relaxed back into Howie.

        “Live there with me,” Howie whispered.

        Chris closed his eyes and loved Howie.  “Okay.”