"Where You Belong"

Where You Belong, eighth in the "Living" series

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.

“Jesus Christ,” Nick said, his hands pushing at Justin’s shoulders, holding Justin up. “What happened? What’s going on?” Justin was crying, Lance was sporting major wood, Joey was calling for reinforcements, the whole thing was nuts. Justin was out of his mind, sure, but Lance? What the hell had Lance been doing? Because it sure looked like Lance had been putting some moves on Justin.

Justin dropped to his side, curling up, quietly weeping.

Either Justin was flipping out because Lance had sexually assaulted him, or Justin was mourning the loss of his precious JC and wouldn’t know Lance from Nick or a hole in the ground. “Justin, hey, hi. Justin. Timberlake. Timberlake!” Nick snapped his fingers in front of Justin’s eyes. Justin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Nick thought about it. “JC!”

Justin blinked, looking up at him.

Better. “Timberlake. What’s going on? What’s with the crying? What’s with Lance?”

“Lance?” Justin asked, sniffling, sitting up, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah. Lance.”

“I don’t…” Justin frowned, like he had vague memories of this Lance person. “He was here.”

Obviously, Lance’s sexual assault, or whatever it had been, hadn’t fazed Justin any, so Nick moved on to other topics. “What’re you crying over?”

“JC.” Justin rubbed his shins, lowering his eyes. “I can’t feel his love.”

“But you know it’s there,” Nick said.

“I always feel JC’s love. He makes me feel it. If I can’t feel it… I don’t know what that means. I do know what it means, I just don’t want to believe it.”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Nick said.

“It means he doesn’t love me anymore,” Justin said softly.

Nick watched Justin closely. The guy was holding it together far too well. “Why aren’t you cracking? From what I’ve heard, you’ve drawn blood for less than this.”

“He doesn’t love me anymore,” Justin said again.

“Why would you assume that? Just because you can’t feel his love this second? You really think that JC has to prove his love to you over and over every second for it to be real? You don’t have any faith that he really loves you, unless he’s proving it to you at that minute?”

“He doesn’t love me anymore,” Justin said to himself.

“Timberlake.”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.”

Nick cupped Justin’s chin in one hand and looked into Justin’s eyes.

There was no one in there. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

T-shirt in hand, Jeff paused to rotate his shoulder.

Nick probably shouldn’t have slammed him into the table like that.

Jeff pulled on his shirt, tucking it into his jeans, the fabric stretching tight across his chest. He glanced up, caught Nick watching, and grinned.

Refusing to admit that he’d been staring or that he was now blushing, Nick turned away. Instead of watching Jeff dress, maybe he should get dressed, himself.

A minute or so later, when Nick stepped into the bathroom, Jeff was already there, checking out his reflection in the mirror, examining a purple bruise on his jaw. Nick gave in to impulse and put his hands on Jeff’s waist, kissing Jeff’s temple; as he slid in beside Jeff, he caught Jeff giving him a “you sappy dope” look, and bit back a smile.

“Drew’s going to get you for taking off that bandage,” Jeff said.

“I don’t know how we’re going to explain this,” Nick said, starting on his hair.

“We’re going to tell everyone the truth,” Jeff said.

“The truth,” Nick repeated, not believing that for a second.

“Yes,” Jeff agreed. “There was a rabid contingent of punk rock fans who broke into our room in the middle of the night and tried to murder us in our sleep. We fought like hell and managed to fend them off.”

“We were beat up by anti-pop haters?” Nick asked.

“Why, what’s your cover story? We were naked Jell-O wrestling and it got out of hand?”

Nick laughed. “Seriously. What are we going to say?”

“I was thinking something along the lines of that old classic, ‘no comment.’”

“We can’t just do that. Our fans have a… They’re invested in our relationship. If they start thinking we’re having problems…”

“We’re not having problems,” Jeff said.

Nick didn’t even try to hide his laughter. Not having problems? Not having problems. They’d spent last night trying to break furniture with each other’s bodies, and they weren’t having problems.

“We have problems,” Jeff said, “but we’re not having problems.”

Ridiculous, yes, but clarified like that, it almost made sense. Nick looked at himself in the mirror; he needed to assess the damage that the cameras would catch. A bruise to the side of his mouth. The cut above his eye. The explosion of color over his cheekbone. That one was nasty.

“Did you have to hit me that hard?” Jeff muttered, doing his own damage check.

Nick almost laughed. “Come on, I knew you could take it.”

“You threw me into the television!”

“Not hard enough to break it,” Nick said.

“It doesn’t turn on,” Jeff said.

“What?” Nick asked.

“I checked while you were in the shower.” They’d had to shower again after making love, but separately, this time. “It doesn’t turn on.”

“Is it plugged in?” Nick asked, going to see for himself.

“Yes, Nick, it’s plugged in.”

“We didn’t smash the screen or anything,” Nick said, pushing buttons. No picture, no sound, not even a click of response. “Where’s the remote?”

“Long gone,” Jeff said.

“You hit me harder than I hit you,” Nick said, wondering how much the hotel would charge them for this.

“No, I didn’t,” Jeff said. “You hit just as hard as I do.”

“You have more muscle mass,” Nick said.

“Barely,” Jeff said.

Funny how they normally had this conversation in reverse. “You won, didn’t you?”

“Because you gave in.”

“I gave in? You kicked my ass!”

“You gave in,” Jeff said, pushing a finger into his chest. “And next time you want to challenge my authority-”

“Challenge your what?!” God, this felt familiar. God, this felt good.

“That’s all this was,” Jeff said. “You wanted to challenge my authority, knowing you’d lose. You wanted me to reassert my dominance.”

“You don’t have any dominance!”

“I won, didn’t I?”

“You’re saying I goaded you into beating me up because secretly I wanted you to kick my ass?” Nick demanded. “What kind of ego trip are you on?!”

Jeff, always infuriating, merely smirked.

“Why do you always think you’re the one in authority? Aren’t you the one who secretly wants to be my groupie?”

Jeff gave him a very long, very firm stare.

He really, really shouldn’t have brought that up, but Nick was feeling so good, he smiled.

Jeff put a hand on the back of Nick’s neck and pulled him in until their mouths touched. “I am not,” Jeff said softly, lips brushing his, “your groupie.”

“No?” Nick asked, feeling anticipation shimmer up his spine, feeling his dick start to harden.

“No,” Jeff said, and licked Nick’s lower lip in one intimate flicker of his tongue.

“Are you sure?” Nick asked, putting his hand on Jeff’s waist, pulling Jeff against his body.

“No,” Jeff admitted softly, and kissed him.

JC was eating dry Cheerios from his bowl with his fingers, one by one, crunching each one with slow delicacy, his hand moving between the bowl and his mouth with rote precision. He hadn’t changed positions, looked at anything, or displayed any awareness of anyone else’s presence since his first piece of cereal. Either he was deeply interested in those Cheerios, or he was off in some other place inside his head where they didn’t have access.

The plan was for Chris to go to JC and Justin’s place to pick up some stuff. He’d come back with it, and then Kevin would courier Justin’s half over to where Justin was staying, which Chris had taken to calling the safehouse.

Chris had tried asking JC what he wanted Chris to pick up, but JC wasn’t talking. At all. Just munching and blanking out.

Brian handed over JC’s confiscated keys, and Chris figured he was ready to go. He felt bad for JC and for Justin, bad in a gut-twisting “we’re fucking things up” way, but he didn’t know how to express his sympathy and regret to JC. “Hang in there,” he said, hearing how inadequate it sounded, and awkwardly patted JC’s shoulder.

Chris didn’t think he was very good at being gay.

He drove over to JC and Justin’s place. He’d never been in there without them, and it was too still, too quiet. Being there on his own made it seem like they were gone. “Gone” being a euphemism for “dead.”

He pushed those thoughts out of his head and went back to the bedroom.

One bag for JC, one for Justin. Okay. He turned to the chest of drawers.

Freak. Freak, freak, freak. Their stuff was all in there together. JC’s underwear and Justin’s underwear, all in one drawer, just mingling. All jumbled in there on top of each other, not even on opposite sides of the same drawer. Socks, all together. Undershirts. T-shirts. Random shit. All of the drawers were like that, JC’s and Justin’s together, with absolutely no concession to individuality.

He wouldn’t have been sure, would have assumed that this was all Justin’s shit and JC’s underwear was AWOL, but, sad as it seemed, he recognized their underwear. JC’s was all boxer-briefs, white and gray and black. Justin’s was boxer-briefs, boxers, briefs, worn and old, pristine and new, in a variety of colors and fabrics.

JC was regal about some stuff and mundane about other stuff; the mundane, it would seem, included his underwear. Justin, on the other hand, was carelessly carefree about everything except his career and his JC.

After sorting through his best friends’ undergarments, Chris tackled the closet. JC and Justin tended to wear each other’s clothes, but technically they were different sizes, and just by style he could figure out what to put in which bag. Then shoes: flip-flops for JC, sneakers for Justin. What else?

Bathroom shit. Right. Chris spent a few confused minutes trying to remember which of them smelled like which hygiene products, then did some quick guesswork and tossed things into the bags at random. He figured if he screwed it up, the worst thing that could happen was Justin would use JC’s shampoo, and Justin would probably love that, anyway.

Okay, thus far he had shoes, socks, underwear, pants, shirts… Anything else?

He went back into the bedroom to make sure, giving it one final look.

Jewelry. Chris pocketed diamond studs, then spotted a pearl bracelet on the dresser. JC’s bracelet, the gift from Justin. He took that, too.

Was there anything else? Chris toured for a living, packed for a living, but he felt like he was missing something. He fidgeted at the dresser, trying to imagine what he could be forgetting, what they might need besides a toothbrush and change of underwear.

And each other.

Chris narrowed his eyes, looking around the room.

There had to be something.

Chris tried not to see himself as one sick fuck, but apparently he knew how to think like one. He reached inside the dirty laundry hamper.

One rumpled T-shirt, smelling like Justin, in the bag for JC.

One pair of gray boxer-briefs, probably smelling like JC but Chris didn’t want to know about it, in the bag for Justin.

And now it was time to make good his escape, before he started wondering whether he were a JC-type who’d want the shirt off Howie’s back, or a Justin-type who’d want the drawers off Howie’s balls.

The drive back to Brian’s was peaceful, until Chris realized that it had become a drive to Howie’s. A drive home.

Home was where the Howie was.

He needed to get back to JC, because he didn’t like leaving JC alone. Not that JC was alone, with two perfectly responsible men there to baby-sit, but Chris still didn’t like it. JC was vulnerable. Unprotected. If JC couldn’t look after himself, then it was up to Chris to do it.

But everything was crazy and everything felt wrong and he wanted five minutes to escape into something that still felt right. So he went home.

Howie was there, meeting him in the living room, happy to see him but concerned and questioning. He wasn’t ready to talk, so he kissed Howie, who made a surprised sound first, then an appreciative, welcoming sound, arms around his shoulders, mouth hot and wet against his.

Chris couldn’t explain it, but Howie knew what to give him. After returning his giving-demanding kisses, Howie pushed him down to the sofa and knelt between his feet. Howie’s mouth felt too good and Howie’s hand knew him too well, and all Chris could do was run his fingers through Howie’s hair, sweeping the curtain back to watch his cock disappear between Howie’s red lips.

After he came, he sagged back and closed his eyes.

Howie was nice enough to close his jeans for him. Howie always had been a very considerate lover. He wondered if he’d ever thanked Howie for that.

Weight in his lap as Howie sat half on him, half beside him. He immediately put his arm around Howie’s waist, bringing Howie closer against himself.

“You can talk to me,” Howie said gently, hand braced on his shoulder, thumb caressing his neck in a back-and-forth motion over the tattoo.

“I don’t know what love is anymore,” Chris said.

“Yes, you do,” Howie said softly.

It was easier to say with his eyes shut. “I don’t know the difference between love and want, or love and need, or love and lust. How much of what we feel is honest emotion, and how much of it is something we talk ourselves into and convince ourselves of? I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what love is.”

It was a whisper now. “Yes, you do.”

He opened his eyes and turned his head, ready to argue his point, feeling the confusion and fear and uncertainty well up inside of him. But there was Howie. Howie, in his arms, at his side. Howie, looking right at him with those pretty eyes. And yes. He knew.

Howie kissed him slowly.

Joey took Justin’s shoulders in his hands. “Look at me. Come on, Justin, look at me.”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” Justin’s eyes wouldn’t focus.

“Justin, it’s Joey. I’m right here. Talk to me.”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“Let’s go over this again,” Nick said. “JC loves you. JC has loved you for years, and he loves you now, and he always will love you. You’re acting like an idiot. JC loves you.”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.”

Nick growled and got right up in Justin’s face, nose to nose, and shouted, “JC loves you!” as loudly as he could.

Justin’s eyes snapped up; his foot slammed into Nick’s side. “He doesn’t love me anymore!” Justin shouted back, and would have landed a good solid punch if Nick hadn’t ducked and rolled right off of the bed.

Joey tried to grab Justin’s wrists, to restrain him, but Justin was struggling, fighting, and screaming his mantra. Nick got off the floor and said, “Oh, you’ve done it now, Timberlake,” pulling handcuffs from his pocket.

Drew came into the dressing room, letting the door swing shut behind him. “What did you tell Marilyn?”

Nick was looking in the mirror, examining the make-up artist’s attempt to cover his bruises. “That it was personal.”

“And she accepted that?”

“She had to.”

“And Jimmy?”

“Same thing.”

“What about the press?”

Nick turned to Drew. “What do you want me to do? What would you like me to say?”

“I’d like you to say that you’re sorry.”

“Jeff and I already-”

“Not to Jeff. To me. To Justin. Did you ever think about him in all of this?”

“What are you talking about?” Nick asked.

“It was irresponsible of you to get into a physical fight with Jeff. Especially bruising each other’s faces. Especially while we’re on tour.”

“There were larger things at stake,” Nick said. “What is this about? I thought you would understand.”

“I understand that we’re all trying to deal with something here, and you’ve managed to make it all about you.”

“We’re all trying to deal with - - we all? All of us? Is that why you wouldn’t tell me, why no one would tell me?”

“We didn’t tell you because we didn’t think you’d take it well,” Drew said.

“You didn’t tell me because you were trying to protect Nick.”

“Protect Nick?” Drew repeated.

“He’s fucked up again, and you knew-”

“Do not put this all on him. This is not about-”

“This is about Nick having the emotional maturity of a first-grader. He had a big secret, and he had to blab it to everybody he knew.”

“He told Kevin, and he told JC, the two people who have been there for him through the roughest times in his emotional life.”

“Poor baby,” Nick snapped. “And how do we know he hasn’t told anyone else? How do we know he-”

“Because Nick said so.”

“Oh, Nick said so, did he? Well, we’ll just take his word for it, like he wouldn’t lie to cover his own ass.”

“I believe Nick. His word is enough for me. If you don’t believe Nick, you should believe Brian.”

“Brian would cover up anything to protect Nick. Brian would lie to my face to protect Nick. He’d probably lie to your face, too.”

“Brian does not lie to me,” Drew said intensely. “He loves me too much and I know him too well.”

“Yeah, and you know Nick, too, don’t you? You know what an immature brat he is. You know he’ll blurt out whatever hits his brain. You know he wouldn’t know the word ‘discretion’ if it bit him on the ass.”

“All five of us are responsible for this relationship. All five of us are responsible for what happens.”

“Nick is responsible for telling everyone about it! Nick is responsible for Lance holding this over our heads!”

“Which is just another way of saying you aren’t responsible for any of it. Fine. You go ahead and believe that. Funny how Nick, the one you claim is so immature, had the maturity to assume responsibility for his part in this.”

“He should!” Nick shouted. “It’s his fault!”

“I am tired of Nick being the designated scapegoat. I am tired of having to defend him to someone who claims to love him one minute and turns on him the next!”

“Do you know what I’m tired of? I’m tired of being your punching bag! I’m tired of you hassling me every time things don’t go your way! You take out your frustrations on me and I’m sick of it! Take some responsibility for once!”

“Fine,” Drew said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, I will. I knew that Nick was talking to JC, and I didn’t want to believe that it would be about us, so I didn’t confront him over it. I should have. That’s my fault. I knew that the five of us were getting too loose with our behavior, that we were letting things slip, and I didn’t do my part to stop it. I should have. That’s my fault. I knew from the first moment, when I agreed to meet you and Jeff in that room, that I was doing something I shouldn’t be doing, that what I was agreeing to was wrong, and I did it anyway. I shouldn’t have. That was my fault.”

“A little late now, isn’t it?” Nick asked.

Drew’s eyes darkened. “Fuck you.”

“I thought Nick didn’t let you curse, angel.”

Drew uncrossed his arms, stepping forward. “You can be a real asshole.”

“And you can be a real cunt.”

Drew forced himself to step back. His voice was tight. “Don’t talk to me.” He left the room.

“Fuck!” Nick shouted.

“It can be hard,” Brian said, sitting with JC at the kitchen table, “when the one you love is far away.”

“It doesn’t make you love him any less,” Kevin said.

“Not at all,” Brian agreed. “You still love Justin, JC. He still loves you. He’s not here right now, not with you at this moment, and I know that it hurts you. But he’ll come back soon. Focus on how you want your relationship to be when he comes home.”

“I’m not with him,” JC said.

Brian was encouraged by JC’s return to speech. “You will be, soon.”

“If I’m not with him, I can’t show him I love him.”

“He knows that you love him.”

“I always make him feel it. If I’m not making him feel it, he won’t know it’s still there.”

“Yes, he will,” Brian said. “JC, after years of telling him you love him and showing him you love him, by now, he must know that you do love him.”

“If he doesn’t, what was all of that love worth?” Kevin asked.

“If you have to keep proving your love over and over again, what kind of relationship do you have? Doesn’t he believe that you truly love him?” Brian asked.

“Justin doesn’t trust my love,” JC said, visibly pulling into himself. “That’s why I have to make him feel it every day.”

“He doesn’t trust your love?” Brian asked.

“It’s too much. He doesn’t think it’ll last,” JC said.

“Justin was young,” Brian said. “You sprung your love on him without warning. He was faced with the force of it very suddenly. He didn’t have time to get used to it before it was all there.” He felt Kevin’s gaze, and met Kevin’s eyes. “I didn’t do much better, did I?” he asked. “I didn’t want to overwhelm Nick with the power of my love, so I held back from him. By the time I left him, he wondered if I’d ever loved him at all.”

“Maybe you should sign up for some therapy with JC,” Kevin suggested dryly.

Brian smiled. “Cute young pop stars, and the men who love them too much.”

JC actually laughed.

Startled, Brian laughed, too.

Joey heard his cell phone ring. He was about to ignore it and let whoever it was leave a message, until he remembered Justin. “I have to get that,” he said.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Nick said, sitting on Justin’s ankles so Justin couldn’t kick him.

Joey found his phone and went outside, figuring Justin couldn’t escape out the front door while shackled to the bed. “Hello?”

“Joey, it’s Justin. What do you have for me?”

Back inside the safehouse, Justin was breathing too hard, too fast through his nose, straining the muscles in his forearms against the cuffs.

“If you don’t believe JC loves you, you don’t deserve him,” Nick said. “After everything he’s put himself through for you, this is what he gets? Where do you get off saying he doesn’t love you? What about you loving him? Have you proven to him that you love him? No, I guess that’s not important, is it?”

Justin raised his head and spat at Nick.

“That’s disgusting!” Nick wiped his arm on Justin’s T-shirt. “You’re sick. And that was real mature, Lake, real mature. Way to be a man.”

Nick’s cell phone rang. He slipped it from his pocket. “Press one if you want to speak to a sane person.”

“Hi, Nick. It’s-”

“Drew,” Nick breathed, and melted backward, arching back over the foot of the bed, the top of his head brushing the floor, his free hand there for balance. He’d been worried about Drew, and worried about talking to Drew, because their last conversation had ended on a bad note, but Drew sounded warm, warm like post-sex draped over his body completely infatuated with him Drew.

“How are you?” Drew asked.

“Good,” Nick said, sighing inside, all warm fuzzies.

“Are you being nice to Justin?”

“When he deserves it.” At the moment, Justin was making furious choked-off muted screaming sounds and trying to work his legs free from Nick’s weight. Nick ignored him.

“I want to apologize to you,” Drew said.

Mmm. Drew. “For what?”

“For what I said to you yesterday. I wasn’t being fair. I’m sorry. We’ve all slipped up. Maybe it was something you said, but it just as easily could have been something he saw, or something he overheard from another one of us.”

“I shouldn’t have talked to anybody. I’m sorry, Drew.”

“I know you are,” Drew said gently, and Nick heard forgiveness. “It’s all right. We’ll…think of something.”

“Are you okay?”

“I love you.”

Nick closed his eyes to capture the words. “I love you, too, Drew. Now tell me why you’re not okay.”

“Nick and Jeff had a fight, and then Nick and I had a fight, and I know I take things out on him when I’m unhappy, but he can be such a…”

“You and Nick didn’t have the same kind of fight Nick and Jeff had, did you?” Nick asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I talked to Jeff last night.”

“Oh.”

“So?”

“Oh, no, we didn’t hit each other. I wanted to. You talked to Jeff?”

“Yeah.” Justin kicked him, hard, and he rolled off the bed onto the floor.

“Do you want to tell Brian about it, or should I?”

“You should. He’s your brother on your tour. Coward.”

“I don’t know how he’s going to take the news.”

“Did you know he’s having a, what did he call it, a slow-motion meltdown?”

“What? Brian?”

“Yeah. He’s losing it.”

“What do you mean, losing it?”

Nick rolled to his feet and left the room, going out through the kitchen into the backyard. “He’s like mentally unhinged. Unbalanced. He’s not perfect and he’s not in control and he can feel himself slipping.”

“What’s he doing?”

“Getting bitchy. Questioning every move he’s ever made, wondering if he’s ever done the right thing. Going dom on me in bed and threatening to tie me up. He’s losing it.”

“What happened?”

“To start it? You and me. You knowing him too well. Him being without me. I think he thought that being away from me was something he could handle, and I guess that while it was going on he tricked himself into adjusting to it, but when we got back together it was like overload. And you’re getting inside his head, and he can’t handle that. He doesn’t want anyone knowing his weaknesses like that.”

“You know his weaknesses.”

“Yeah, but when do I ever call him on them? I’m safe. You’re not.”

“Now you’re away from him again, and he’s supposed to be helping JC.”

“Yeah, but it might work out okay. Maybe helping JC will let him work out his own issues.”

“I should call him.”

“Yeah. Are you okay with Nick and Jeff?”

“Yes. No. Yes.”

“Try ‘I don’t know.’”

“I don’t know,” Drew admitted. “I’m mad at Nick. I’m furious at Jeff. I think I understand it, I know what Nick was trying to do, but I’m still mad. And Jeff, I’m so angry, I’m so furious - - I know it’s not logical of me. I know he had to do it. I know Nick doesn’t blame him. But every time I - - how dare he do that?”

“It’s okay,” Nick said. “Nick’s your brother. You can feel irrational anger towards the bastard who beat up your brother. Just remember it wasn’t some bastard, it was Jeff, and they love each other, and what happens between them is up to them.”

“I know.” Drew sighed. “I’m not mad at Jeff in any real way, it’s just a knee-jerk thing. And I am mad at Nick, for doing that to Jeff, for jeopardizing their relationship, but I know why he did it. He wanted to burn his bridges and run. I’ve wanted to do the same thing. But that’s short-sighted. And I’m so selfish, I can’t do it.”

“How is that selfish?”

“I’d rather spend as much time as I can with you and Brian, and then watch it all go up in flames and take you down with me, than break out now and leave you behind.”

“If I tell you something, you promise not to freak?”

“No.”

“Promise.”

“Okay. I won’t get upset.”

“Okay. I don’t know what he said, but Lance must have been talking to Joey, because Joey’s been asking me weird questions about our relationship and whether we’re all faithful.”

Silence.

“That doesn’t mean Lance is talking to people. It just means he talked to Joey, and Joey’s his best friend, anyway. And whatever he said can’t have been one hundred percent convincing, because Joey couldn’t have believed him if he came talking to me.”

“Joey knows,” Drew said.

“Joey doesn’t know,” Nick said. “Whatever shit Lance thinks is going on, he talked to Joey about, but it’s all hearsay and Joey didn’t totally believe him. As far as I’m concerned, Joey got wind of some rumor, and that’s it.”

“Who else would Lance tell? Who would Joey tell?”

“I don’t think Joey would tell anyone. I think he might go to someone like JC, or Justin Jeffre, for more information, or Justin or Chris, to be a sounding board. To get it all sorted out, fact and fiction. But Joey’s not going to run around spreading rumors. He’s going to want to get whatever settled in his head, but he won’t gossip for the sake of gossip. Lance, I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Nick, you just gave me a complete working of Joey’s psyche. You can figure out Lance.”

“I did?”

Drew laughed.

“Oh. Okay. I don’t know, I don’t talk to Lance.”

“Talk to him, figure him out, and get back to me.”

“Okay. You think I can do that?”

“Yes, I do. Nick, we barely knew each other when you seduced me, but you knew exactly what to do. You’re good at reading people. Imagine what might happen if you actually put effort into it.”

“Seducing you wasn’t all that hard, Drew.”

“It really wasn’t,” Drew admitted.

“God, you wanted me.”

“I really did,” Drew said, his breath catching slightly in Nick’s ear.

Nick grinned. “How do I still do this to you? I have the same effect on you now that I did back then.”

“I have a hair trigger when it comes to you,” Drew said. “All it takes is a word, a look, and…”

“And what?” Nick coaxed.

“And I’m yours.”

Nick grinned.

“I can’t believe I said that,” Drew muttered, sounding embarrassed.

“It was cute,” Nick said.

“Just what I always wanted,” Drew said.

“I have to go check on Justin and talk to Lance. You call Brian.”

“Okay.”

“You want to kiss me?” Nick asked.

“Always.”

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you, Nick.”

“Bye.”

Nick hung up and went back into the house. Time to get to know James Lance.

Drew hung up just in time for Justin to track him down. “Group meeting, right now,” Justin said.

“Now?” Drew asked, following him. “What’s going on?”

Justin didn’t answer, leading him into the back dressing room where he’d argued with Nick, letting him in and locking the door. Nick and Jeff were already there; Nick’s eyes darkened and avoided Drew’s gaze.

“I know how Lance found out, and what he thinks he knows,” Justin said.

Drew came to attention, startled, wanting to know and not wanting to know with equal force.

“How?” Jeff asked.

“I talked to Joey.” Justin took a seat on the battered sofa; Jeff sat beside him. Drew crouched in front of them; Nick paced in the background. “Back in Kendig, Lance was in the hall, and he saw something. He saw Brian and Nick.”

“Nick?” Drew repeated.

“Nick?” Jeff asked.

“Nick,” Justin confirmed.

Nick stopped pacing, realizing what they were saying. “Me?”

“Lance saw the two of you standing together, talking. Brian was touching your face and saying that he was in love with you.”

“What?” Jeff asked.

“Apparently Drew had told Jeff that Brian had a crush on Nick, and Brian was saying that it wasn’t a crush at all, it was love.”

Nick turned his back.

“Lance has been putting things together, trying to make sense of it,” Justin said. “Jeff hitting Nick, Brian overreacting. Lance had a point; if Brian’s willing to stand in a public hallway, touching Nick’s face and declaring love, what happens behind closed doors?”

Drew’s mind was spinning, but he managed to say, “Nick told me that Joey was asking him questions about us, and it made him think Joey didn’t fully believe Lance’s story.”

“How long was Lance standing there?” Nick asked, back turned, head down, hands braced on the wall.

“I don’t know,” Justin said.

“What, it got worse after that?” Jeff demanded.

Nick made a choked, laughing sound. “Yeah, it got worse after that.”

“Jesus, Nick.”

“Joey said Lance was tracking down AJ, and didn’t stick around for the whole thing,” Justin said.

“We can handle this,” Drew said. “All he knows is that Brian said he was in love with Nick, and that Jeff and I suspected Brian had a crush on him. All of the rest is speculation.”

“That isn’t bad enough?” Nick asked the wall.

“Jeff and I could have been teasing. Most of the time we were,” Drew said. “All that leaves is what Brian said. What exactly did he say? Do you remember?”

Nick’s hands moved on the wall. “He said… He said you told Jeff that he had a crush on me. He said, ‘It’s not true.’ Then he said, ‘I don’t have a crush on you. I’m in love with you.’ Then he…touched my mouth.”

Drew had to admit, “That’s hard to misunderstand.”

“What happened after that?” Jeff asked.

“After that… Lance must have been gone by then,” Nick said.

“Because what happened after that was even more damning?” Jeff asked.

Nick didn’t answer.

“What do we have to work with?” Jeff asked Drew.

“Brian said he’s in love with Nick and touched Nick’s mouth. That doesn’t look good, but it’s a lot better than we thought,” Drew said.

“It makes Brian look unfaithful,” Jeff said.

“It makes Nick look…not great,” Drew said. “But there’s no proof he returned Brian’s affection.”

“He was touching my face the whole time,” Nick told the wall. “I never moved away.”

“So, what?” Drew asked Jeff. “Nick and Brian had a secret romance? An affair? A one-time fling in Kendig? They wanted each other but it never got beyond words and touches?”

“It kills me,” Jeff said, “to have anyone think that Nick isn’t faithful to me, and to have anyone think that Brian would be unfaithful to you and Nick.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes briefly. “But it’s better than the truth.”

There was silence.

“I have to sacrifice Brian to save myself,” Drew said quietly.

Jeff nodded.

Nick’s elbows were to the wall, his arms crossed over the back of his head.

Jeff clasped Justin’s hand. “Thank you.”

Justin gave him a quick hug and left quietly.

“I should feel better,” Drew said. “I should feel relieved that Lance doesn’t know anything about… But I don’t, I feel sick. Brian’s going to suffer for my sins.”

“What Lance saw did happen,” Jeff said. “Brian is in love with Nick. They have made love.”

“I know.”

“We’re consenting adults,” Jeff said. “What we do in our private time is none of Lance’s business. He has no right to judge our behavior. The information he has is barely a percentage of the overall picture. He has no idea of the relationship between Brian and Nick.”

“Maybe we don’t, either,” Drew said, looking at Nick’s back.

“Drew,” Jeff said. “Brian has never cheated on you.”

“I know,” Drew said, sitting in Justin’s vacated seat. “I know that Brian’s love for Nick is an extension of his love for me and my love for Nick. He loves me, and I love Nick, so he loves Nick. It makes sense in my head, even though it probably shouldn’t.”

“You have to tell him.”

“I wish Nick were there with him. I wish I were there with him.”

Jeff put his arm around Drew’s shoulders. “We can handle this.”

“Why aren’t I the one being punished? Why Brian?” Drew asked.

“Because Brian would rather bear the brunt of it himself than watch you suffer,” Jeff said.

Nick puttered around the kitchen, messing with this, messing with that. Lance was sitting at the table, eating, ignoring him.

Joey walked in. “I thought you were watching Justin,” he said to Nick.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Nick said. “We probably should feed him something.” Lance had stopped eating. Because Joey was there, or because they were talking about Justin?

“I don’t think he’s going to eat,” Joey said.

Lance’s expression and body language had changed from “you’re of no consequence to me and I have no use for you,” aimed at Nick, to “approach me and die,” now aimed at Joey. Nick didn’t get it. Lance and Joey were supposed to be best friends, but they’d been weird around each other this whole time. Edgy. Uncertain. Hostile, on Lance’s part; nervous, on Joey’s.

Nick’s brain clicked. He watched them more closely.

Joey brought his sandwich over to the table.

The second Joey’s ass touched the chair, Lance was up. He went to the refrigerator, got a beer, and left the room.

Joey looked like he wanted to go after him and push him around and tell him off.

Nick grinned, sitting in Lance’s empty chair. “You hit that?”

Joey dropped his sandwich.

“Hey, it’s cool,” Nick said. “I don’t blame you. He’s hot. Kind of schizo, but hey, if that’s your type-”

“Mind your own fucking business,” Joey snapped, getting up.

“Who called it off, you or him?” Nick asked.

“Nobody called off anything,” Joey said, snatching up his plate. “There’s nothing to - - mind your own fucking business.” He left.

Nick crossed his ankles on Joey’s chair and mused. Pretty fucked up, there. Lance and Joey. Who would’ve guessed? It was true, Lance was hot, but Joey? A little too straight, a little too hairy, and a little too big for Nick’s tastes, but if that was what Lance wanted, good for him.

It hadn’t been a once-and-done thing, either. They weren’t over it. They looked kind of fucked up about it, actually.

It made sense for Joey to be fucked up about it. He was straight. He’d gotten into it with his gay male best friend. He was probably going through a lot of confusion, anger, fear, resentment, and who knew what else.

Lance might be feeling guilty about bringing Joey into that, but it didn’t seem like guilt was something Lance would let himself feel these days. Then, what? If he wasn’t tripping over that, what was it?

Nick closed his eyes and thought about it. Lance. Joey. Why Lance might have gone there. What Lance might be feeling now.

Lance had been using Joey. He’d fucked with Joey on purpose. He wanted Joey to be screwed up and tangled in knots.

But Lance wouldn’t have wanted to be tangled in knots, himself. He hadn’t been expecting that. He’d overestimated himself. He’d let himself be affected.

Why. How.

Because he’d gotten more than he’d bargained for.

Because he’d liked it.

Because he wanted to do it again.

Because he was in love with his best friend.

Nick’s eyes opened.

Lance was in love with Joey.

Nick sat up straighter, dropping his feet to the floor. Lance had been jacking people around, trying to get in JC’s pants, bitching out Justin, taking shit out on Brian, whatever. Lance was trying to get one over on them. But that couldn’t happen if Lance had a weakness. Lance didn’t want that weakness, hadn’t expected it, was trying to deny it. But it was there.

If it were there, it could be exploited.

Nick could drop a house on the Wicked Witch of the Bass if he could just figure out how to do it. And then JC wouldn’t have to worry about protecting his baby or getting Lance’s hand out of his pants.

They were just moving into the front room when the phone rang. Brian glanced at Kevin; Kevin nodded, making a “go ahead” gesture; Brian left the room to answer the phone, reassured that Kevin would be fine with JC.

“Hello?”

“Brian, it’s Drew. Do you have time to talk?”

“I always have time for you.” Brian took the phone back to the den, closing the door.

“Justin talked to Joey and found out what Lance knows.”

“Tell me,” Brian said immediately.

Drew told him.

It was a shock. Brian accepted it in silence.

“Brian, talk to me,” Drew urged.

“I’ll take it,” Brian said. “Let him think it was me.”

“Brian-”

“It leaves you and Nick out of it, it leaves Jeff out of it, it’s just Nick and me and we can say it was me, I’ll take it on myself.”

“Brian! You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to-”

“It’s all right, Drew. It’s better this way.”

“This is killing you and I know it,” Drew said fiercely. “Don’t tell me it’s not.”

“I wanted it this way, I asked to bear your burden, I asked that you be spared. I got what I wanted.”

“I never asked you to martyr yourself! I never asked you to do this for me! This is mine to bear, not yours!”

“It’s for the best.”

“If you have to do this, if we’re going to let you and Nick accept this, then let us help you. Don’t do it alone. Let me be there for you!”

“I’ll be fine,” Brian said.

“You’re always fine, I’m always fine, that’s bullshit and you know it! Your love for me and Nick, your commitment to us, I know how much it means to you. I know that having anyone question it, having anyone think less of you for it, think less of us for it - - I know what it’s doing to you.”

“Have you told Nick?”

“No, I’m going to call him next.”

“I’ll do it.”

“I want to do it.”

“I’ll do it,” Brian said harshly.

“It is not your job to coddle and protect him, and it is not your job to coddle and protect me, either. I can take care of myself. I might be able to prove that if you’ll all stop stepping in for me!”

“I have to go.”

“I’ll be home soon, Brian. The tour’s almost over and I’m almost home. When I get there, you won’t be able to hang up on me to get away from me. You won’t be able to avoid me. We’re going to work on this. We’re going to talk about it. You’re going to learn how to let Nick go.”

“I let him go once,” Brian said, “I let him go and it almost ruined him.”

“You always talk about the damage it did to him. What about what it did to you?”

“I deserved whatever pain it brought to me. He was the innocent one.”

“I know how much he loves you, and I know how much you love him. You breathe through him. You expect me to believe that you were young and foolish, so you dumped the good thing you had in search of greener pastures?”

“It was a business decision. I couldn’t risk-”

“I don’t believe that for a second. Maybe I used to, but I know better now. And Nick does, too. That’s why it hurts him so badly, because he’s confused.”

“I have to go.”

“I love you, Brian, and I’m going to make you stop doing this to yourself.”

Brian hung up the phone.

Drew made a disgusted noise. “Yeah, Drew, I love you, too,” he said to himself. “Great.”

Lance walked into Justin’s room. He stood in the open doorway and watched.

Bitch.

His phone rang. “Lance.”

A slow smile stole over his face, but he kept his voice business-like yet concerned. “Are you sure about that? I took care of all of that before I left…”

Nick checked his caller ID for once, and walked out into the backyard again. “Brian?”

“Come home.”

Oh, god, right in the gut, right in the heart, Brian got him just like that. That wasn’t the sad-sigh I-miss-you voice, that wasn’t the teasing voice, that was the I-need-you voice. “I’m on my way.” Nick hung up and went back into the house.

He rarely heard that voice. It wasn’t often that Brian confessed to needing him like that. That was a cut-to-the-bone weakness, something that exposed Brian to the extreme.

He’d seen it in Brian’s eyes, once, seen it without hearing it. Brian hadn’t said a word, but the look in Brian’s eyes, on Brian’s face, had said it all. It had been after he’d seduced Drew, when they were back on the road, when he and Drew were fresh and new, and he’d gotten off the phone with Drew, whispered “I love you” into Drew’s ear and hung up the phone, and Brian. Right there. Looking at him. Needing him. Needing him like fish needed water, like lungs needed oxygen.

And it had been hard, impossibly hard, because yes, Brian was his first love, but he loved Drew, too. He couldn’t forget about Drew, couldn’t say “I love you” to Drew and then turn around and go to Brian. It wasn’t that easy; he wasn’t like that. His love for Drew was real, and he couldn’t betray it.

And Brian never said anything. Didn’t ask him to betray Drew. Didn’t ask for things it was no longer Brian’s right to take. Just looked at him, with that “I’m suffering without you” look on his face.

It had been the first time, the very first time, that he’d thought maybe Brian wanted him back. Or didn’t want him back, but at least still wanted him. Not just as friends, but back in Brian’s bed, under Brian’s body, naked to Brian’s hands.

That night, alone in bed, fucking his own fist, it had been Brian’s name he’d said as he’d come.

When he heard Justin say things like “I can’t breathe without JC,” Nick knew what Justin meant. He’d felt that way himself, sometimes. About Brian, of course, and about Drew, especially in the early days, when everything was still new and he lived on phone calls and hope, when he’d sit alone and look out the bus windows and think about Drew, about Drew’s voice and Drew’s eyes and Drew’s bizarre moments of sarcasm and the way Drew’s muscles bunched against his fingertips, and he’d think about how much he loved Drew and how incredible this second chance was, and he’d think about how the idea of Drew leaving him was like the world dropping out beneath his feet, and he’d start shaking and he couldn’t breathe right and there were tears blurring his vision and if he didn’t have Drew anymore his whole world would be over because Brian had been his first miracle and that was gone but Drew had been his second miracle and he couldn’t lose Drew, too, because Drew was the only thing on earth that made him think that there might be life after Brian, and Drew was like a soft warm summer rain or like sun-warmed sand beneath his feet or like diving down to the bottom of the ocean and picking up a smooth-smooth pebble and wondering how long it had been there for the sea to round it just so. Drew was perfectly natural, warm and beautiful, a quiet miracle. Drew was Nick’s love and Drew was Nick’s hope and Drew was Nick’s heart and if he lost that, if that went away, if - - and only when Kevin would come and sit behind him and hold him would he realize that he’d been shaking and crying and gasping for air.

He hadn’t had random panic attacks like that in a while. He’d only started having them after Brian had dumped him. He still didn’t know why Brian’s leaving had traumatized him like that. He only knew that it had, whether he could explain it or not.

Brian was a different kind of miracle. Showier. Like a glorious sunset, or majestic mountains, or the crash of a huge wave. Breath-taking. Drew was more understated, less flashy; a quiet, everyday miracle. Nick’s personal miracle.

Nick was halfway through the door when his phone rang again. It was Brian. “Hello-”

“Don’t come,” Brian said. “Don’t come, I shouldn’t have-”

“I’m coming,” Nick said. “You need me, I’m coming.” He could hear things in Brian’s voice, shaky things, new things.

“I’m fine.”

The shaky things were gone. Brian was back in control. Nick narrowed his eyes, not believing it for a second. “You’re fine?”

“I’m fine. I was overreacting. Stay there. Justin needs you.”

“What happened right before you called me?”

“What kind of example would it set for JC and Justin if you left Justin to-”

“What happened, Brian?” Nick could inject some of that don’t-deny-me Littrell-Richardson steel into his voice, too.

“Nothing,” Brian said.

“Am I supposed to believe that?” Nick asked. He was back outside now, pacing the grass.

“I’m fine,” Brian said. “I was overreacting.”

“To what?”

“To nothing. It’s fine.”

Mm-hmm. “I’m coming home.”

“Don’t.”

“Try and stop me.”

“Nick,” Brian warned.

“You need me, don’t you?” Nick asked softly. “You need me so badly it aches inside. Kevin said something weird to me, something about you depending on me, and I was like, depend on me? Brian doesn’t depend on me. But maybe you do. Maybe you need me like I need you. You make love to me like you’re feeding off of me. You look at me, you touch me, like I’m nourishing or sustaining or…like sunlight. Giving and supporting life. You’ve called me that before, said I’m your sunlight, but… It’s true, isn’t it? I am.”

“Don’t come,” Brian whispered.

“You don’t want me to see you like this. It’s too late, Brian, I’ve already seen you like this, I know you, I’ve seen you every way you can be. I’m coming. I’m leaving now.”

“Stay with Justin.”

“What’s wrong, Brian? Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t need you,” Brian whispered fiercely.

“Try telling me that the next time you’re making love to me like I’m the only thing your body needs to survive, like I’m the one thing your soul craves the most.”

“I don’t need you,” Brian insisted.

“Fine. You don’t want me there? I won’t come. I’ll stay here and baby-sit your little boyfriend for you. I’ll see you when I see you.” Nick hung up. “Idiot.” He walked back into the house and his phone rang. “Hello?”

“Nick, it’s Drew. Has Brian called?”

Nick backed out into the yard again. “Yes, and he’s psychotic.”

“Did he tell you about Lance?”

“What about him?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“He freaked out on me and I hung up on him. I’m going to ditch Justin and run home for a few hours to check on him. What didn’t he tell me?”

“It wasn’t you. Lance saw Nick and Brian in the hallway, having a…special moment.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“Brian was touching Nick’s face, saying he loved him. It was pretty incriminating.”

“Nick and Brian?”

“The good news is, Lance doesn’t know about the rest of it. About the worst part. The bad news is, now Brian’s reputation is ruined, and it looks like he’s been unfaithful to us.”

“How’s Nick?”

“I don’t know, I’m focusing on Brian.”

“Let me handle Brian. You go make sure Nick’s okay.”

“I don’t care if Nick’s okay.”

“Well, I care.”

“I know you do, but… I don’t understand him sometimes, I really don’t get him. How can he run hot and cold, infatuated with you one minute and making you his scapegoat the next?”

“You know how I’m not supposed to talk about how stupid and ugly Nick is, because I’m not always talking about him?”

“Yes.”

“Sometimes the things he says about me is really his anger and frustration with himself. He and I get mixed up in each other.”

“Oh.” Drew turned that over in his mind.

“Yeah. We take out our anger on each other. We’re easy targets. It’s easy for me to rile him up, and it’s easy for him to get to me.”

“It would be better for everyone if you’d stop it.”

“We have stopped. We’re friends now. Or, what? He’s doing it again?”

“This thing with Lance isn’t easy.”

“And since I’m the one running around telling everybody about my personal life, I’m Nick’s little scapegoat. Again.”

“Kind of ironic that he’s the one Lance saw in the hallway.”

“Yeah, but I still shouldn’t have been talking.”

“All five of us are responsible. He wasn’t willing to admit that, and that’s what made me angry. No, you shouldn’t have been talking, but obviously he wasn’t the soul of discretion, either. None of us was.”

“Go talk to him. Be nice. Give him one of those warm pretty smiles so he’ll feel good inside. I have to go deal with Brian.”

“Brian really is slipping.”

“Yeah. You noticed?”

“He won’t admit to things. He won’t admit that he needs help. He won’t admit that there’s ever anything wrong, that he’s ever hurt. That’s crazy.”

“He’s nuts.” Nick sighed. “We could run away together and leave him behind.”

“No, we’d miss him after a while.”

“I guess,” Nick said. “We could try it.”

“No, no. He’s my husband and your fiance. We have to keep him around.”

“If you say so. How are you doing with the, you know, Brian’s reputation being shot but your ass being saved?”

“Mixed emotions,” Drew said.

“Yeah, I figured. People thinking Brian’s cheating on you can’t feel too good.”

“Let me ask you this. If you had me, me, of all people, would you turn around and make a play for Nick?”

Nick laughed. “Hell, no.”

“That’s what I thought. It’s so ridiculous, no wonder Joey didn’t believe it.”

“Who would ever leave your sexy ass to try to hook up with him?”

“It’s crazy.”

Nick was still laughing. “Let me tell you, I know I picked the right brother.”

“You sure did.”

Nick grinned. “Don’t be fooled. He’s only the front man because he’s taller. If he were any shorter, you’d own 98 Degrees.”

“I know,” Drew said.

“Or, I guess, it might help if you could sing.”

“What? What’s that? You want me to hang up the phone?” Drew asked.

Nick laughed. “Couldn’t resist. Okay, go be nice to Nick.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“He’s your brother.”

“Every time I think he may be capable of treating you right for three days straight, he proves me wrong.”

“You love him.”

“I don’t like him very much.”

“Yeah, well, suck it up.”

“All right. I’ll try to be civil. Take care of Brian for me.”

“Maybe we should switch. You show up and put Brian in his place, and I’ll play nice with Nick.”

“I’m tempted.”

“You could do some of that growling in his ear. He seems to like that.”

“Now I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. It’s hot. Now let me off the phone.”

“All right. I love you.”

“I love you. And don’t say ‘asshole,’ it’s not nice.” Nick hung up and walked inside the house. Standing in the kitchen, he paused, waiting for his phone to ring. When it stayed silent, finally, he walked farther into the house. “Joey?”

“In here,” Lance called. Nick walked back to the second bedroom, where Lance and Joey were already talking.

“You what?” Joey asked Lance.

“It’s paperwork and political bullshit,” Lance said. “Jive is fighting over contracts. Rhonda didn’t send all of the faxes I told her to. Keith is saying he needs another meeting. If I don’t get moving on this, it’s going to hold up everything, and we won’t be able to get in the studio when 98 Degrees gets off tour. We have to start then, because Jive is holding us to a timeline with this whole project, because they want us working on our ‘real’ albums by-”

“You’re going back,” Nick said.

“I have to,” Lance said, doing a great job of looking frustrated, running his hand over his hair.

Nick was impressed. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Lance hadn’t arranged this whole mess beforehand to have an excuse to go.

“What about Justin?” Joey asked.

“You and Nick are here. I’ll get back soon, it should only be a day or two.”

Yeah, right. Like Lance was going to come back here when JC was alone and vulnerable. He knew Lance had been trying something with Justin this morning; who knew what Lance might attempt with JC. “No one can take care of this for you?”

“JC asked me to be the business manager,” Lance said. “He’s dealing with enough right now.”

How…what was the word? Altruistic? “Do you have to go right now?”

“Yes,” Lance said, giving him the stupid child look.

Bastard. “Okay. You do what you have to do.” Nick wasn’t concerned. “I’m going to check on Justin.” He went to do just that.

Justin was either asleep or pretending to be asleep.

Nick slipped into Justin’s bathroom, running down the list in his mind. JC, unstable. Brian, losing it. Chris? Kevin? Mmm, the perfect chord between Chris and Kevin. He dialed. “Howie? It’s Nick…”

Chris left Howie’s place and returned to Brian’s. When Kevin let him in, he dropped the bags in the hall and found JC in the front room with Brian. “Hey, how are you whoa.” JC had stood at his entrance and walked towards him, kept walking without stopping, coming up right against him, and now Chris had an armful of JC. “It’s good to see you, too. How’ve you been? Enjoying the weather?”

JC held on, showing no signs of letting go.

“Okay, yeah, good to know we’re both comfortable displaying our affection like this,” Chris said.

JC turned his face to Chris’s neck.

“You just burrow in there, that’s fine,” Chris said, patting JC’s shoulders. “You just go ahead and enjoy that right there.”

JC licked Chris’s neck.

Chris froze. In his entire life, only one man had ever licked his neck. It sure hadn’t been JC, either. He didn’t want to be rude to the sanity challenged, but what in the hell?

JC stopped licking and just held on.

“That’s right. That’s better. You save that tongue action for Justin. Ooookay.” Chris resumed patting JC’s back. “A little clingy today, are we?”

“I think it was the…” Kevin paused, and Chris saw a slight smile on his lips. “Tattoo.”

Oh, god. Chris knew he was turning bright red. The tattoo thing, yeah, he was great with it, he didn’t care who saw it, his friends, his family, the press, the fans, the general public, anybody. As long as he and Howie were good with it, he was great. But somehow he’d forgotten about the whole Backstreet part of the equation. Not that he gave a shit what they thought, but the idea of AJ’s eyes on his love did not sit well with him. At all.

Then he thought about what Kevin had just said. The tattoo. A symbol of his obsession. Right up JC’s alley. The concept of why JC would be interested in his tattoo was fuzzy around the edges, but it made a sort of vague sense in his head. “You like my tattoo, JC? You have one, too, don’t you?” JC’s was slightly sick, but he supposed some people might not think that his was the healthiest, either. “I have an idea. Let’s all let go of Chris and take a nice little seat on the couch over there, all right? How’s that sound? Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?”

JC murmured, quietly but very distinctly, against Chris’s neck, “You smell like sex.”

Oh holy freaking god, could this get any less comfortable? Was that possible at this point? He knew he was burning red to the tips of his ears. “If you let go I can go take a shower and get my scent up to your standards.”

“No,” JC said, and held on tighter.

Okay, all right, everyone out of the pool. Chris smelled like sex and JC liked that about him. “JC, you’re a freak.” The crazy part was, it didn’t even seem like JC was coming on to him. JC was getting something out of this, some odd freakish JC thing, but JC wasn’t attracted to him, at least not sexually. At least, it didn’t seem that way.

“What is it, JC?” Brian asked, standing behind JC, rubbing between his shoulder blades. “Do you miss your friends?”

“Yes,” JC said.

“Do you miss sex?” Brian asked.

“Yes,” JC said.

“It’s okay,” Brian said. “It’s okay to miss those things. They aren’t gone forever. It’s only been one day. You’ll have everything back again.”

“Maybe we could get him a chew toy or something,” Chris said.

“I think he has one,” Brian said, eyes light with amusement.

“Right, good, what was I thinking?” Chris said.

“Which bag is for…” Kevin asked.

“The blue one,” Chris said.

“Is there anything you want to send?” Kevin asked Brian.

Brian hesitated. His fingers were massaging small circles in the back of JC’s neck. From what Chris could tell, Brian’s hand was going on automatic while Brian’s mind was elsewhere. He had no doubt that Brian touched Nick that way. It probably felt good to JC, loving and reassuring.

When Kevin spoke again, his voice was soft. “Brian.”

Brian looked up, and Chris saw a strange spaced-out tense-vulnerable look on his face. “No,” Brian said, and lowered his eyes again. “Nothing.”

Chris had never heard Brian lie before.

Kevin stayed in place.

Brian’s touch faltered on JC’s shoulder.

“Brian,” Kevin said.

“Excuse me,” Brian said, turning quickly, and left the room. He went upstairs.

“Is he okay?” Chris asked Kevin, like the answer wasn’t obvious.

“He’ll be fine,” Kevin said. “Just a few things catching up to him. I’ll take the bag and bring back a report on how things are going.” Kevin left.

Chris adjusted his hold on JC. “Don’t get too comfortable, now. Howie doesn’t take too kindly to other men being all over me.”

Drew didn’t particularly want to talk to Nick, but that was his own pettiness talking. He got over it and found Nick. “Hey.”

Nick’s eyes turned in his direction, then away again. He was sitting on the floor, his back against the sofa, knees up.

“Nice move with the reporter.” They’d been asked what had happened to Nick and Jeff. Nick had said, “Our official word is no comment.” Jeff had prompted, “And our unofficial word?” Nick had grinned and said, “Never reach for the last slice at the same time as Jeff.” The moment had passed by smoothly, and the beauty of it was that Drew knew it had been unrehearsed. Nick and Jeff had great natural chemistry. He loved that about them.

Nick grunted.

Drew sat behind him, on the sofa, one leg on either side of him. Drew leaned down, folding his arms around Nick, his chin on the top of Nick’s head. “It’s not your fault.”

Nick’s hands found his, grasping as though grateful for the lifeline.

Drew pressed a kiss to Nick’s hair. “You’ll be okay. No one’s blaming you. If it hadn’t happened that way, it could just as easily been another way.”

“How’s Brian?” Nick asked in a voice that was barely there.

“This is a bad time for him,” Drew said. “He’s slowly imploding. That is not your fault.”

“How’s Nick?” Even quieter than before, so quiet Drew almost didn’t catch it.

“He’s fine,” Drew said. “I know it sounds crazy, but he is. There’s a lot going on right now, so we’re delegating responsibilities. I’m taking care of everything here, and he’s taking care of Brian.”

“I don’t deserve him,” Nick said.

“He’ll always love you,” Drew said.

Nick lowered his head.

“No, don’t,” Drew said. “It’s okay, Nick. It’s okay.” He slid down between Nick and the sofa, on his knees, containing Nick in the circle of his arms, in the vee of his thighs. “It’s okay, Nick, it’ll be okay.”

Nick turned to Drew, catching him in a close embrace. “I love you,” Nick whispered. “I love you, Drew, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” Drew said, hands splayed across Nick’s broad back. “I know. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes. “I love you.”

Nick shuddered.

Lance licked Justin’s lips. “Bye-bye, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll fuck JC for you.”

Justin didn’t respond.

Lance walked out to the living room. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“We’ll handle it,” Nick said.

Lance wondered how much he’d have to pay Brian for a night with Nick. “He’s been pretty low-key so far.”

“Yeah, but we’re not getting anywhere, either,” Nick said.

And whose fault was that? Lance gave Nick a look but said nothing. Nick didn’t respond; then again, subtlety was lost on him.

“Can I talk to you?” Joey asked.

“I have to go,” Lance said. “Dave’s asking for a conference tonight. Call me later.”

Nick was already walking out of the room.

Lance waited until Nick had gone, then kissed Joey’s mouth. “I’ll tell JC you said hi.”

“Lance-”

He opened the door.

“Lance!”

He closed the door and walked to his car.

Joey came out after him. “Don’t do this. JC doesn’t need this right now.”

“Joey, what are you talking about?” Lance asked, opening his car door.

“I’m talking about you and your new hobby. You got me, you’re working on JC, I don’t even know what you were trying to do to Justin-”

“It makes you wonder what I was doing to him before you walked in, doesn’t it?” Lance asked, getting into his car.

“Don’t fucking do this!” Joey shouted.

“Bye-bye, baby,” Lance said, and drove away.

When Brian came back downstairs, he looked absolutely normal. Like he’d merely taken a stroll through the house to see how the rooms were doing today.

Chris had been thinking of various things as he’d stood there, things like Howie’s nipples, and Lance’s evil ways, and Howie’s ass, and how to get JC off of him, and Howie’s hair. It always came back to the hair. Still, he had formulated the beginnings of a plan to remove his friendly parasite. He cupped his hand over JC’s ear and whispered over JC’s shoulder to Brian: “Do you have any Kool-Aid?”

Brian nodded. “Kevin brought some.”

“Hey, JC,” Chris said in a light, conversational tone, “you want something to drink? Maybe some Kool-Aid?”

JC tensed and untensed in his arms. “Yeah.”

“Strawberry?” Chris mouthed.

Brian thought about it, and nodded.

“What flavor do you want?” Chris asked JC.

“Strawberry,” JC said.

“Isn’t that Justin’s favorite flavor?” Chris asked.

“Yes,” JC said.

Brian smiled at Chris. “I’ll go make some.”

“We made love,” JC said. He drifted backwards, releasing Chris.

“Who made love?” Chris asked.

“Justin and I,” JC said. His eyes weren’t focused and his voice was taking on a vague, dreamy quality. “We made love in the kitchen. He was making Kool-Aid and I told him that he was adding too much sugar and…”

“And that was a major turn-on?” Chris asked. He herded JC towards the kitchen; JC moved in dreamlike obedience, mostly walking backwards but maintaining his innate grace.

“He’d just come home from…basketball… He’d taken off his shirt but there was…sweat on his… I sprinkled sugar on his…shoulder and…” JC’s lashes fluttered. “He tasted…like…”

Chris worried that JC might faint. He didn’t look altogether present.

“We made love. I…” JC’s knees buckled; Chris jumped in and got an arm around his waist, supporting him. JC leaned heavily against the kitchen table, then dropped into a crouch. “It felt like…”

“How did it feel?” Chris asked, wondering how someone that skinny could feel this heavy. JC was all bone and muscle.

Brian was kneeling in front of JC, staying close.

“Felt…” JC’s lashes fluttered again.

“JC,” Chris said.

“Felt… There was…sweat, salt. And sugar, too sweet. Tasted…Justin. Felt… I made…love to him and… Sugar everywhere…”

“JC.”

“I loved him so much when…he was mine.” JC’s eyes closed.

Chris and Brian looked at each other.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Where You Belong" Part 34
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