Copyright April 2, 2002-September 15, 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.

        “I don’t have to do it,” Brian said.

        “No, you do, I mean, I promised.”

        “You didn’t know what you were promising.”

        “I trust you.  I just…  Maybe Drew should be here.”

        “Do you want to wait until he comes home?”

        “Is this going to make you feel better?  It’ll put you back on solid ground?”

        “I think so.”

        Nick kissed Brian.  “Okay.  Do your thing.”

        Brian kissed him, then stayed there, stroking Nick’s hair, foreheads touching, gazing into Nick’s eyes.  “Thank you.”

        “When you think about it, it’s kind of weird that we haven’t done it before.”

        “I love you.”

        “I love you, too, Brian.”

        With great, slow deliberation, Howie turned off the tap.

        The room was all silence.

        Chris swallowed with difficulty.

        “How is he?” Lance asked.

        Chris’s stomach hurt.

        Howie began to load the dishwasher.

        “I didn’t know you were still talking to him, but he’s in your phone here, so-”

        “Fine,” Chris said, too loud and too fast, “he’s fine.”

        It was impossible to read Howie’s face, and his movements were so smoothly controlled, Chris couldn’t tell whether Howie was about to kick him out for good or ask him if he wanted more iced tea.

        “That’s great,” Lance said.  “I didn’t think you were still friends after what happened.  It’s great that you can still talk.”

        “Yeah,” Chris said, standing abruptly.  Lance wasn’t going to let up, and he couldn’t do this to Howie.  “I’m going to check on JC.”

        “I thought you said he wanted to be alone,” Lance said.

        “Give me my damned phone,” Chris said, snatching it up and getting out of there.  He hurried up the stairs and down the hall to the guest room.

        JC was fast asleep.

        Chris sat on the floor and wished he had “he loves me too much” problems like Justin had, not “he’s about to drop me like a rotten egg” problems.  Maybe he’d be so broken up over it, he could turn to the dark side and be Lance’s running buddy.  Not that Lance needed his help; Lance was doing a great job as it was.  Too great a job.

        He was going to make Howie keep the house.  He’d bought it for Howie in the first place, and he wanted Howie to live there.  It made Howie happy, and he wanted it to keep making Howie happy, even when he couldn’t anymore.

        Chris pressed his knuckles to his eyes.

        Joey sat beside him.  “How’re you doing?”

        “JC?” Justin asked.

        “JC’s back home.  I’m just Joey.”

        “Pocket,” Justin said.

        “Pocket?” Joey asked.

        “Pants.”

        “There’s something in your pocket?”

        “Bedroom floor.”

        “Hold on.”  Joey got up and went into the bedroom.  On the floor was the pair of jeans Justin had worn yesterday.  Joey checked the pockets and found a pair of underwear.  What the…  He didn’t want to know.  Joey came back out to the living room and sat beside Justin again, handing over the underwear.

        “JC,” Justin said, and clutched the underwear into a ball held against his mouth, beneath his nose.

        “JC’s underwear?” Joey asked, to keep him talking.

        “My head hurts,” Justin said.

        “From what?” Joey asked.  “You mean like a headache?”  Or had Justin hit his head on something?  Joey had been keeping a close eye on him…

        Justin rubbed his fingers over a spot on his scalp, frowning.

        Joey brushed aside Justin’s hand and looked for himself.  “Shit.  You have a bald spot.  Damn, when you were pulling out your hair, I didn’t think you were - - damn, Justin.  Don’t do that to yourself.”

        “Mourning,” Justin said.

        “Mourning or morning?” Joey asked.

        “Some cultures.  When they’re in mourning.  They cut off their hair.”

        “Yes, but you’re not in mourning, because JC’s fine,” Joey said.

        “Can you be in mourning for yourself?” Justin asked.

        “What do you mean?” Joey asked.

        “I used to be somebody,” Justin said.  “I’m not myself anymore.  Even when I try to get back to myself, and act like myself, I’m only pretending.  It’s only temporary.  But if I get rid of all of this and become a new person and get to be who I am, whoever that is…  I want to be me.”

        “I want you to be you, too,” Joey said, gently rubbing Justin’s scalp.  He found another thin patch and winced.

        “I want to leave here as myself.”

        “I’d be very proud of you,” Joey said.  “And very happy for you.”

        “Did I bite you?” Justin asked.

        “Yeah, but not hard,” Joey lied.

        “Sorry.”

        “It’s okay.”

        “I don’t want to be like this anymore.”

        “It’s pretty rough on you,” Joey said.

        “I want to cut off my hair.”

        “No, you don’t.”

        “I want to cut off my hair.  To symbolize the change.  To commit to it.  I want to do it now, so I’ll have to change to live up to the promise of it.”

        “No, you don’t.”

        “I want to save it.  Keep it in a box to give to JC.  He’ll want it.”

        “You can’t cut off your hair.”

        “Is there an electric razor here?”

        “Justin, think about this.”

        “I hate these curls.”

        “I know you do, but the fans love them.  JC loves them.  Who’s Justin Timberlake without his curly ‘fro?”

        “A different person,” Justin said.  “I want to find out who he is.  I want to find out what he’s like.  Let’s chop off this mess and find out.”  He pushed JC’s underwear into his pocket and sat up.  “Help me?” he invited Joey.

        “JC’s going to kill me,” Joey said.

        “We’re giving him the hair,” Justin said.

        “If you want a haircut, I’m not exactly the place to go,” Joey said.

        “No, I’m shaving it all off.  I’m talking bald.  It has to be drastic.”

        “This is drastic,” Joey agreed.  He ran his fingers through Justin’s hair and thought about Justin’s right to be himself.  He’d almost forgotten what the old Justin, pre-JC, was like.  “I’ll help you, but if JC hates it, it was your idea.”

        “Sorry,” Chris said.  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.  Was my heart breaking too loudly?”

        “What’s going on?” JC asked, sitting up.

        “What would you do if Justin left you?” Chris asked.

        “Stalk him,” JC said without hesitation.

        “Good,” Chris said.  “That’s my plan.  I already know where he lives, where he works, where he shops, where he hangs out, who his friends are.”

        “What?” JC asked.

        “Howie’s about to break up with me.  I’m working out a plan for the future.  Stalking sounds like the way to go.”

        “Howie’s not going to dump you,” JC said.  “He generates sexual heat specifically for you.”

        “Lance just told him that I’ve been talking to Steve Jerome.”

        JC came down off of the foot of the bed, sitting beside him.  “What?”

        “Lance wanted AJ’s phone number.  I tried to get it, Howie caught me, we talked about it…  I decided not to get it.  Lance asked me for it, I told him I didn’t have it, he gave me another day.  He asked me for it, I told him I didn’t have it, and he told Howie I’ve been talking to Steve.”

        “Is it true?” JC asked.

        “Yes,” Chris said.  “It’s nothing sexual, it’s not, I have Howie.  Why would I want anyone else when I have Howie?”

        “You had Howie before,” JC said.  “You told us nothing had happened, that it was just that one kiss, but I don’t think I believe you.”

        “I was lying then,” Chris said.  “I’m not lying now.  I told Howie the truth then, and I can tell him the truth now, but is it going to matter?  After everything he said, it was so clear, and I’m giving a big ‘fuck you’ to his trust.”  Chris rubbed at his eyes.  “I wonder if he’d be nice enough to let me stalk him, or if he’d start calling the police.”

        “Chris, why did you-”

        There was a knock at the door.

        “It’s not Howie,” Chris muttered.

        “JC?” Lance asked.

        JC and Chris stared at each other.

        “I was right,” Chris said, startled.  “I wasn’t, I didn’t…  Oh, great, now my superpowers kick in, when it’s too late!  Great timing!  In another hour or two, this will be worthless.”

        “We have to test it a few more times,” JC said.  “It may have been a lucky guess.”

        “JC?” Lance asked.

        “Oh, hell, let him in,” Chris said, rising.

        JC put his hand on Chris’s arm, tugging Chris back.  “Don’t leave me alone with him,” JC whispered.  “I don’t trust myself.”

        “Anything to protect the sanctity of Justin’s property,” Chris said, and went to open the door.  “Lancifer.”

        “JC,” Lance said, walking past Chris to where JC stood.  Lance hugged him.

        Chris tugged at the short hair on his chin, mentally timing the hug.

        “How are you?” Lance asked JC, technically ending the embrace but keeping one arm around JC, his other hand wandering from JC’s hair to JC’s shoulder to JC’s necklace to JC’s pockets.

        “He’s fine, aren’t you, JC?” Chris asked.

        “Are you?” Lance asked JC, his gaze penetrating.

        “I miss Justin,” JC said.

        “I know how you feel,” Lance said.

        “No, you don’t,” Chris said.  “You dumped your boyfriend for cheating on you.  JC had his husband and life partner ripped from his arms.”

        “I didn’t dump him!” Lance snapped.

        Chris was surprised.  This was new.

        “I didn’t dump him,” Lance repeated.  “I didn’t mean to.  We were having a fight.  I thought it was just another…  I was going to take a day or two to cool off, to figure things out, and then maybe…”  He swallowed, turning his face to the side.

        “You might have gotten back together,” Chris said, realizing.

        “You might have given him another chance,” JC said softly.

        “But you didn’t have time,” Chris said.  “He didn’t give you the chance.”

        “Fuck him,” Lance said.  “Fuck him anyway.”

        JC hugged Lance.  “You loved him.”

        Chris realized that all of this broken-hearted emotion might be a Lance Bass Production, a drama staged to tug at JC’s heartstrings.  But even if it were, it still was true emotion, or had been at one time.  And regardless of everything, Lance was their closest friend, and Lance’s pain hurt them.

        Chris piled into the hug.  To his surprise, Lance turned to him, squeezing him and kissing his cheek, then the ink-free side of his neck.  Lance sat then, on the floor, tugging them down, too.

        “Tell me how it’s going,” Lance said to JC.  “How are you really doing?”

        “I miss Justin,” JC said.  He brightened.  “I got to talk to him today.  I listened to him breathe.  He’s longing for me.”

        “He didn’t say anything?” Lance asked.

        Chris leaned over and whispered, “He was having a ‘JC’s dead’ breakdown.”

        JC watched them carefully, but said nothing.

        Chris smiled brightly.

        “What else?” Lance asked.

        “I wrote a letter to him today,” JC said.  “Brian’s taking it over for me.  There’s so much I want to tell him, it’s only the beginning, but at least it’s a start.  Maybe if I write more, someone else will take it to him.”

        “We can work something out,” Chris said.  “He might write back to you, too.”

        JC smiled, looking down.  “My baby’s words are always important to me.”

        Chris and Lance rolled their eyes at each other, and that easily, the three of them clicked back into place.

        “Nothing,” Howie said, attempting a smile.  “I’m fine.”

        “Oh my god,” Brian said, startled but unsure.  “Have you been crying?”  Howie never cried.

        “I’m fine,” Howie said.

        “What happened?” Brian asked.

        “It’s me,” Howie said.  “I’m friendly, aren’t I?  I’m loving.”

        “Very,” Brian said, rubbing his arm.

        “Then why doesn’t he know how much I love him?  Why doesn’t he believe me?  What am I doing wrong?  I know he thinks I’m perfect.  Am I cold?  Am I distant?  I’m human, I’m as real as he is.  What am I doing wrong?”

        “You’re not doing anything wrong,” Brian said.  “You’re very warm, especially to Chris.”

        “I’ve tried,” Howie said.  “I’ve tried, and I don’t know what else to do.  If I can love him this much and he still can’t see it, maybe there’s nothing I can do.”

        “Chris knows you love him,” Brian said.  “Don’t talk like this.”

        “I told him before, the first time, I told him that if he wanted to go, he could.  If he wanted to leave me, I would let him go.  I meant it.  I want him to be happy, I want him to feel loved, and if I can’t do that for him, then at least he can find it somewhere else.  But I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that anymore.  I don’t know if I can let him go.  We have a house now, we have a future, and I love him…”

        Brian hugged Howie, cut by Howie’s pain.  “He knows you love him, he does, he knows.”

        “I have to go,” Howie said.  “I’m going home.  I can’t let Lance see me like this.”

        “Lance?” Brian asked, immediately suspicious.  “What about Lance?”

        Howie pulled back, wiping unshed tears from his eyes.  “Chris and I were in the kitchen when Lance brought up that Chris and Steve are still talking.”

        Brian stared.  “Steve…”

        Howie nodded.

        Brian’s jaw tightened.

        “I know.  It’s true, if it weren’t true Chris would have told me so immediately, on the spot.  Instead, he ran upstairs.”

        Brian’s eyes hardened.

        “If Chris is still talking to him, after what happened…  Chris must need something that I can’t give him, that Steve can.  And I don’t want to admit it, but if Chris is talking to Steve and I don’t know it, he could be talking to other people, too.  He bought an entire house without me knowing about it.  We’re in each other’s lives, but we do have our own time and our own friends.”

        Brian shook his head.  “Chris loves you.  He’s yours, and he’ll tell the world.”

        “I have to go,” Howie said.  “I’ll be back later, I-”

        “No,” Brian said.  “Don’t go now.  Talk to Chris.”

        “I love him,” Howie said.  “I’ve always loved him.”

        “Tell him that,” Brian said.

        “I won’t cause a scene.  Not in front of Lance.  Whatever happens, I don’t want to give him that satisfaction.”

        “All right,” Brian said.  “I have to read JC’s letter.  Come and sit with me.”

        “Come in,” JC said, sounding…relaxed.

        Nick nudged open the door and looked.  JC, Chris, and Lance were sitting on the floor.  Since Joey and Justin weren’t there, they weren’t as cosy-cuddled as usual in their trademark everybody-pile-up style, but there was a nice element of fairy boy to it, especially considering that Lance, sitting back against the bed, had his naked feet in Chris’s lap and was painting JC’s nails.

        Chris massaged between Lance’s toes.

        Lance applied pale pink to JC’s thumb.

        JC rested his head on Lance’s shoulder.

        “How long do these orgies normally take?” Nick asked.

        JC smiled.  “We can do your nails next.”

        “Where did you get this stuff?” Nick asked.

        “Chris brought it,” JC said.  “He wasn’t sure I should have it, since I might drink it and poison myself, but I’m being good.”

        “That’s nice,” Nick said.  “I’ll see you girls later.”  He closed the door and went to try Drew’s phone again.

        Carefully, they spread a thin white T-shirt on the bathroom floor.  Justin knelt on the floor, putting his weight on his hands, lowering his head over the T-shirt.

        Joey started the razor.  “JC, forgive me.”  Cupping Justin’s chin in one hand to steady Justin’s head, he put the razor to Justin’s nape.

        Lance rummaged through JC’s nail bag.  “Chris needs AJ colors.  He’s too butch-looking for pink or purple.”

        “I’m butch,” Chris agreed.

        “You’re gay,” JC said.

        “But butch,” Chris said.

        “I thought he was bi,” Lance said.

        “It’s sort of a moot point,” Chris said.  “I’m Howiesexual.”

        “There’s blue,” Lance said doubtfully.  “It’s kind of light and…shimmery.”

        “I’m too butch for shimmery,” Chris said.

        “Try red,” JC said.

        “Red?” Chris repeated.

        Lance found it.

        “What is that, fire engine red?  Blood red?  Vamp vixen red?” Chris asked.  “What do I look like?”

        JC took Chris’s hand, examining it.  “You need a real manicure.”

        “Can’t you just slap the polish on and call it a day?” Chris asked.

        “At least let me push back your cuticles and file the-”

        “How gay do you think I am?” Chris asked, pulling his hand back.

        “You suck dick, don’t you?” Lance asked, and picked up an emery board.

        He smoothed his hand over Justin’s naked scalp.  In another day or two, peach fuzz would start to sprout.  “I think that’s it,” he said, his voice remarkably steady.

        Justin raised his head, sitting back on his heels.

        Joey stared at him.

        Justin ran his hands over his head, meeting Joey’s eyes.  “How bad is it?”

        Joey kept staring.  “It’s different.”

        Justin got to his feet with his trademark grace and looked at himself in the mirror.

        Joey stood beside him, careful not to disturb the cast-off curls.

        Justin touched his reflection.

        “You look older,” Joey finally said.

        “I look older,” Justin repeated slowly.  “I look older.  I look…naked.”

        “You look beautiful,” Joey said.

        Justin smiled.  “It’s drastic.”

        Joey had to say it.  “It’s you.”

        JC was painting the nails on his right hand.

        “All of these handsome young men waiting on me,” Chris said.  “Get Nick back in here.  He can feed me grapes.”

        “I’d suck his dick any day,” Lance said.

        “How many dicks have you sucked?” Chris asked.

        “Chris,” JC said.

        “He brought it up,” Chris said.  “He went from straight to AJ to crazy party guy pretty fast.  I’m just wondering.”

        “Two,” Lance said.

        “Two what?” Chris asked.

        “I’ve sucked two dicks,” Lance said.  “AJ’s, more times than I can count, and someone else’s, once.”

        “You only…one other guy besides AJ?” Chris asked.  “What did you do with all of those other guys?”

        “Fucked them,” Lance said.  “Let them suck my dick.  How many dicks have you sucked?”

        “One,” Chris said.  “What I lack in experience, I make up for in incompetence.  Let’s ask JC.  How many-”

        “Justin’s,” JC said.  “No one else’s.”

        “I’m shocked,” Chris said.

        “Nick and I talked about it,” JC said.  “But we were never serious.  He wasn’t over Brian, and I wasn’t over Justin, and we weren’t that attracted to each other.”

        Chris and Lance stared at each other.

        “Why is the most shocking part of that the thing about not being attracted to each other?” Chris asked.

        “You weren’t attracted to each other?” Lance asked.

        “Not really,” JC said.  “We didn’t think of each other that way.  We were friends, we understood each other.  But I’m no Brian, and he’s no Justin.”

        “You’re the closest thing to the God of Sex that I can imagine, and he can out-Justin Justin,” Chris said.  “What’s wrong with you?”

        “Out-Justin Justin?” Lance asked.

        “I’ll tell you later,” Chris said.

        “No one,” JC said firmly, “is better than Justin.”

        “Of course not,” Chris said, since it was JC.  “But you didn’t always have Justin.  And, no offense intended, but it’s Nick.  Nick Carter.  You never did anything?  You didn’t make out with him one lonely afternoon?  You didn’t ask him to give you head?”

        “It never came up,” JC said.

        “Do you have a libido?” Chris asked.

        “Are you stupid?” Lance asked.  “I’ve said it before to be mean, but not to be mean, to be dead honest, I would pay Nick Carter to suck my dick.”

        “I was focused on Justin,” JC said.  “I don’t notice other men.  And Nick doesn’t notice other men, either.  Not like that.”

        “You’re both idiots,” Chris said.

        “Nick’s my friend,” JC said.  “One of my closest friends.  I wouldn’t want anything to come in the way of that.”

        “Friends can have sex,” Chris said.  “I imagine.  I never believed in that bullshit before, about friends being able to have sex and remain friends without it changing their relationship.  But now that Howie and AJ, whatever, now I’m hoping that it’s true.”

        “You want them to stay friends?” Lance asked.

        “Yes,” Chris said.

        “Why?” Lance asked.

        “If they can, then it means that what happened between them didn’t mean anything too deep, and Howie wasn’t trying to start a relationship with AJ behind my back.  Besides…”  Chris sighed.  “Howie loves AJ, and they’re best friends, and I don’t want Howie to lose that.”

        “I want them both to die hideously mangled in a lawnmower incident,” Lance said.

        “That used to be my favorite fantasy, too,” Chris admitted.  “But I love Howie, and I’ve forgiven him.”

        “How?” JC asked, supportive and curious.

        “Have you seen two Streets together when no one else is around?” Chris asked.

        “Two Backstreet Boys?” Lance asked.

        “Besides Nick and Brian,” Chris said.

        “Yeah,” JC said.  Lance nodded.

        “Have you noticed how they seem to communicate on a different level?” Chris asked.  “They’re very close, they’re as close as we are, if not closer, if that’s possible, which it may not be.  I’ve seen them together.  Any combination.  Howie and Brian, on our tour.  Nick and Kevin.  They act like they’re lovers.  There’s an assumed level of familiarity, of intimacy, that goes beyond friendship.  They take each other for granted, but they’re very aware of each other.”

        “What are you saying?” Lance asked.

        “This is going to sound crazy, and I don’t think they know it, but any two of them at random are about two seconds from being lovers.  If they started jumping into bed with each other, I don’t think it would change that much about their relationships.  I don’t think that having sex changed that much in Howie and AJ’s relationship, either.  That doesn’t mean it was right, and that doesn’t mean I don’t hate and dread AJ with each fiber of my being.  But I can see how easy it would be for them to forget themselves and end up in bed together.”

        “They’re all that close?” Lance asked.

        “We’re not that close,” JC said.  “Almost.  Maybe in another five years.”

        “Why don’t they all get in bed together?” Lance asked.

        “They aren’t aware of it,” Chris said.  “And they don’t want to.”

        “They don’t want each other?” Lance asked.

        “No,” Chris said.

        “Idiots,” Lance said.

        “Once I figured all of this out, I understood Howie and AJ a little better.  It was more like being lonely and falling into the arms of an old lover.  But I’m still going to punch AJ in the face when I see him again.”

        “They don’t want each other?” Lance asked.

        “Brian’s married.  Nick’s as good as married.  Kevin is Brian’s cousin and sees Nick as his little brother, which leaves him with Howie and AJ.  Howie has a significant other, thank you all very much.  Who knows about AJ.”

        “Do you know when he’s coming home?” Lance asked.

        “No,” Chris said.  “I hope I don’t break my pretty red nails clawing his eyes out.”

        “I’d like to be that close,” JC said.

        “What?” Chris asked.

        “As close as they are,” JC said.  “With the three of you.”

        “We’re almost there,” Lance said.

        “I don’t want to be that close,” Chris said.  “How comfortable with my sexuality are you asking me to be?”

        “You’re never going to screw any of us besides Justin, so why does it matter?” Lance asked JC.

        “Imagine how comfortable we’d all be together,” JC said.  “Imagine how close we’d become.”

        “Have you seen the way they fight?” Lance asked.

        “We could skip that part,” Chris said.

        “I would love to be that close to the three of you,” JC said.

        “I’m okay where we are,” Chris said.

        “I wouldn’t mind being that close,” Lance said, drawing Chris closer.

        “Unhand me this instant,” Chris said, pulling back.

        “I don’t even get one little kiss?” Lance asked.

        “Not unless your name is Howie,” Chris said.  He examined his nails.  “Do I like this?”

        “We need different colors, but you still look great,” JC said.

        “I have to go downstairs,” Chris said.  “Are you two safe alone?”

        “See if you can find Nick,” JC said.

        “Try to keep Lance from offering him any money,” Chris said, heading for the door.

        Joey found a decent-sized, clear bottle.  He scrubbed it absolutely clean, then made sure it was absolutely dry.  Together, he and Justin filled it with dirty blond curls.

        “No more old Justin,” Justin said.

        “Now we have to find out who you are,” Joey said.

        “I could be a left-handed German transvestite French-speaking goat herder,” Justin said.

        “How about a young, married singer with a shoe fetish?” Joey suggested.

        “I can work with that,” Justin said.  “Married to who?”

        “An extremely sexy blue-eyed singer,” Joey said.

        “Really?”  Justin grinned.  “It’s good to be me.”

        Chris hesitated in the doorway.  He cleared his throat nervously.

        “What?” Nick asked, not looking up.

        “JC wants you upstairs,” Chris said.

        “You left him alone with Lance?” Nick asked, paying attention.

        “They’re not doing anything,” Chris said.

        Nick made a disgusted noise and got up, brushing past Chris on his way.

        Chris hovered in the doorway.

        Howie stood.

        Chris was afraid to meet Howie’s eyes.

        Howie was coming closer.

        Chris backed up a step.

        Howie took Chris’s elbow and led him into the next room, closing the door.

        Chris tugged at his earrings nervously.

        “You painted your nails,” Howie said.

        “They’re still wet,” Chris said.

        “I’ve always loved you,” Howie said.

        “I can explain,” Chris said, meeting Howie’s eyes, feeling a rush of anxiety, scrambling for the right combination of words that might keep Howie at his side.  Then he heard what Howie had said.  “Always?”

        “From those first fumbling days,” Howie said.  “Don’t you know how much I love you?  How can I-”

        “Then?” Chris asked.  “You loved me then?  At the Planet Earth, at the, you loved me then?”

        “Yes,” Howie said.  “I didn’t know it until the morning after, when I woke up and you were there beside me in bed.  We were about to go our different ways and,” he touched Chris’s face, “I didn’t want to lose you.”

        “You…you…”

        Howie smoothed Chris’s eyebrows with a gentle thumb.

        “I can explain,” Chris said weakly.

        “May I have one?” Howie asked.

        “One of my kidneys, one of my feet, one of my balls, anything you want,” Chris said.

        Howie touched his neck.  “Your necklaces.”

        “Oh.  Take them all.  I have hundreds.  Here.”  Chris began to unfasten them.

        “Just one,” Howie said.

        Chris took off a strand of silver balls and put it in Howie’s hand.  “Keep it.  I have ten more just like it.  Do you want those, too?”

        “AJ’s close,” Howie said.  “He should be in town any day now.”

        “Forget him, what about, I can explain, I-”

        “It’s all right,” Howie said.  “I understand.”  He brushed his lips against Chris’s.  “Good-bye, Chris.  My love.”  He turned, opened the door, and walked out.

        Chris didn’t get it.  He didn’t understand.  He didn’t - - no!  He ran down the hallway, around the corner, skidding into the foyer, slamming into the front door, jerking it open, running down the path, down the driveway-

        Howie’s car turned the corner at the end of the street.

        “No!” Chris shouted.  “No!”

        Howie was gone.

        “No!”  Chris ran back into the house.  Car keys, car keys, goddamnit, where the hell!  He’d put them somewhere JC wouldn’t get to them, but where the hell was that?!

        “What are you doing?” Nick asked, coming down the stairs with JC and Lance.

        “What happened?” Lance asked.

        “What’s wrong?” JC asked.

        “Where the hell are my car keys?!” Chris demanded.  “You!”  He grabbed Lance.

        “Watch your nails,” JC said.

        Now that he had Lance, he didn’t know what to do, so he shoved Lance away and resumed his search.

        “You gave your keys to Brian.  They’re in our room,” Nick said.  “I’ll get them.”

        “Faster!” Chris shouted as Nick strolled up the stairs.  God damn it, he would do anything to keep Howie from leaving him, anything at all, he’d lick Howie in bad places five times a day, he’d shave off his eyebrows and paint himself green, he’d become a woman if that was what Howie wanted, he’d do anything.  He should’ve accepted Howie’s proposal, they’d be married by now, he’d been stupid, he’d been-

        “Here.”  Nick tossed Chris his keys, coming down the stairs.  “You’d better get back fast.”

        “Bite me,” Chris said.  “Be good,” he said to JC.  “Stay sane.”  He ran out the front door.

        “What the hell is wrong with him?” Nick asked, his arm around JC.

        “I fucked with him,” Lance said, and shrugged.

        “You shouldn’t have done that,” JC said.

        “Where’s Howie?” Nick asked.  “Did he go?  Chris is running after him?”

        “Apparently,” Lance said.

        “You can go home any minute now,” Nick said to Lance.

        Brian came into the foyer and embraced JC.  “I’ll be happy to give this to Justin.  He needs to read it.”

        “Damn, how long is it?” Nick asked.

        “Thirty-five pages,” Brian said.

        “It’s only the beginning, there’s so much more,” JC said.

        “I know,” Brian said.  “Write the rest.  We’ll make sure Justin gets it.”

        “Howie left and Chris went after him,” Nick said.

        “No,” Brian said.  “He didn’t.  I told him to stay here and talk to Chris.”

        “Maybe they talked, and Howie didn’t like what Chris had to say,” Lance said.

        “Maybe you can suck my dick,” Nick said.

        “Will you please go up and get my bag?” Brian asked Nick.  Nick glared at Lance and went upstairs.

        Brian hugged JC again, then said, “I’ll help Justin as best I can.  Thank you for trusting me with him.  I only want him to be happy.”

        “Are you sure Mr. Sugar-and-Spice, Everything-Nice is going to be firm enough with your manipulative, abusive baby?” Lance asked JC.

        “Justin’s not-”

        “Yes,” Brian said to Lance, gently interrupting JC.

        Nick jogged back down the stairs.  “Have fun.  Harass Justin.  Call Drew.”

        Brian put his bag over one shoulder.  “Be nice to JC.  Be extra nice to Chris.”

        “Yeah, whatever.”  Nick kissed Brian’s cheek.  “Bye.”

        “That’s all I get?” Brian asked.

        Nick kissed Brian’s mouth, slow gentle kisses, tightening his fingers in the back of Brian’s shirt.

        Brian put his hand in Nick’s hair, leaning up for more of Nick’s mouth, feeding off of Nick’s kiss.  There was so much hunger and so much tongue, Lance felt like he was part of the kiss, just watching.

        Nick, unfazed, kissed Brian’s jaw.  “Come back soon.”

        “I love you,” Brian whispered, cupping Nick’s face in his hands, planting a soft kiss on Nick’s lips, the ones he’d just been practically chewing on.

        “I love you,” Nick whispered.  “Call Drew.”

        One sweet, sweet lingering kiss, and Brian left.

        Nick sighed, setting the locks.  “All alone again.”

        “Does he always kiss you like that?” Lance asked.

        “Like what?” Nick asked absently, looking out the window to watch Brian’s car go.

        Lance mentally adjusted his price list.

        “I wish Drew were home,” Nick said, and sighed.  He faced JC and Lance.  “You are definitely the wrong two people.”

        The front door flew open, then slammed shut.  Chris ran across the foyer, slid on his knees, tumbled down the few steps into the sunken living room, and crawled to Howie on his hands and knees.  He collapsed on his back, clawing up at Howie’s legs.  “Please.”

        Howie, never able to resist his Chris, knelt, taking Chris’s hands.  “Chris…”

        “Give a dying man one last kiss,” Chris begged.

        “You’re not dying,” Howie said.

        “I’ll die without you,” Chris said.

        “You’re being dramatic,” Howie said.

        “I’ll stalk you,” Chris said.  “I’ll follow you, track you, wherever you go.  I know where you buy groceries, I know where you buy clothes, I know where you get your glorious-perfect hair done, I know who your friends are.  I’ll stalk you, I’ll track your every move, I’ll take pictures and jack off to them at night.”

        “That, I believe,” Howie said.  “Chris, no.  I’m not enough for you.  You’ll never believe me.  We’ve been dragging this out, and every day I hope, every day, but we can’t do this anymore.”

        Chris sat up, still keeping hold of Howie’s hands.  “What are we talking about?”

        “Maybe you shouldn’t have tried to pin everything on the first man you had sex with,” Howie said.

        “What?” Chris asked.  “No.  It’s not…  You’re the first for a reason.  You’re the only for a reason.”

        “I know that you love me,” Howie said.  “Until today, I thought that that could be enough, that the love we shared was enough to make this work.  But it’s not.  All of the romantic notions in the world can’t force it.”

        “Make this work?” Chris asked.  “This does work, we work.  We work hard at making this work.”

        “You don’t trust me.  You don’t believe in me.  I don’t know what else to do.  It’s my fault, I know that, you don’t know how much it kills me, but if I’m not enough for you…”

        “Not enough?” Chris asked.  “Not enough, not perfect enough, not gorgeous enough, not nice enough, not good enough in bed?”

        “You’re still turning to other men to get things you’re not getting from me.”

        “Other men, there aren’t other men, I don’t - - is that, that’s what you think, that’s what, no, Howie, god, no, Howie, my love, my love, my love.”  He gripped Howie’s hands.  “There is no one else.  Not Steve, not anyone.  There is no one but you.  No other men.  No women, no men, no people.  Just you.  You’re too glorious for me all by yourself, I can’t handle any more.”

        “You still talk to him you-”

        “It’s not that,” Chris said.  “It’s innocent, extremely stupid, but innocent.  After the thing that happened, I called him to tell him that I was sorry, that I never should have done anything, that I was very thoroughly in love with you, and that I hoped he wouldn’t sue.  He wasn’t really in the mood to talk, what with the broken nose and all, but he called back later, and he said he hadn’t realized what he was messing with, and he was sorry, too.  Then somebody needed a songwriter, and Steve is good, and I wanted to make it up to him, so I recommended him and got him the job, and he called me to thank me and let me know how it was going.  We talk maybe once every other week, maybe ten minutes at a time, just to say hi.  He’s a good guy, but there’s nothing, it’s nothing, I will never speak to him again.”

        “Are you sure there’s nothing more?”

        “Yes,” Chris said.  “Nothing, not a thing, not even a piece of a thing, nothing.  I’m not attracted.  He’s actually kind of boring.  He has a boyfriend.  There’s nothing.”

        “Chris.”

        “I love you,” he said fervently.

        “Are you happy with me?”

        “Happy?  I’m ecstatic!  I’m joyful!  I’m bouncing off the walls!”

        “Are you satisfied?”

        “Yes!”

        “Are you sure there’s…nothing more than you want from this relationship?”

        Chris hesitated.  “Like what?”

        “Anything.  Anything that you’ve been wanting, that you don’t have.”

        Chris slipped his hands from Howie’s.

        “What’s keeping you from it?” Howie asked.  “Am I?  Are you?  Are you afraid to ask me for things?”

        “It’s one thing,” Chris said.  “One small thing.  I’m sure we’ll get around to it someday.”

        “We can talk about it now.”

        “I don’t want to talk about it,” Chris said.

        “Do you know that I love you?” Howie asked.

        “Yes.”

        “I truly love you, Chris, with all of my heart.  I want to be with you this way for the rest of our lives.  I can’t imagine loving anyone else this way, or being with anyone else this way.  You’re so important to me, and so special to me…”

        “So important and so special you just said good-bye and hopped in your car and ditched me,” Chris said.

        “For you,” Howie said.  “To let you go.  To give you the freedom to get out of life what you want from it.”

        “You’re what I want out of life,” Chris said.

        “Are you sure?” Howie asked.  “If you want to explore-”

        “Don’t tell me to shop around,” Chris said.  “I didn’t bump into you at age fifteen, decide you were the one, and go from there.  I had a few miles on me when I started making eyes at you.  I’ve had a few relationships, I’ve had a few groupies, and I’ve seen what the world has to offer.  I settled on you, and I haven’t regretted it.  Even on our worst days, when I wanted you dead and scalped, I never wanted back the time I’d spent with you.”

        Howie kissed him.

        “And that turns you on?” Chris asked.

        “No, it doesn’t-”  Howie laughed and touched Chris’s hair, kissing Chris’s cheek.  “No, it doesn’t turn me on.”  He rubbed Chris’s knee.  “You’ve had to forgive me a lot of things.  I’ve wondered sometimes whether you’ve regretted ever getting involved.”

        “Regret being with my Howie, my love?” Chris asked, unable to comprehend.  “You jest!”

        “I haven’t always…been worthy of your love,” Howie said.  “I’ve made mistakes, big mistakes, with you, with AJ, with Steve…  I’m sorry,” he said, brushing his fingers up the line of Chris’s jaw.  “I’m sorry, Chris.  I’m trying to do better.”

        “I know you are.  I can tell, I think.”

        “When Lance said…  It hit me, I thought, maybe I’m trying too hard, maybe we’re pushing for something that can’t happen.  Maybe I’ve already ruined this, and it would be better for you to look somewhere else.  I didn’t think you’d ever make that step and walk away, so I had to do it for you.”

        “Howie, my love, my sweet, I say this with all of the love and kindness in my heart, you are an idiot and I should smack you upside your gorgeous head for walking out on me today.”

        Howie smiled.  “I’m glad that you can be that honest with me.”

        “Did you happen to say, earlier, did I hear…  AJ’s on his way?”

        “He’s outside of town now,” Howie said.  “I don’t know whether he’ll have the sense to come home or not, but he’s close.”

        Chris stood and began to walk around the room.

        Howie rose.  “Chris…”

        “I have to get used to it,” Chris said.  “I have to get used to him being around you, used to you being around him, used to you spending time with him.  He’s your best friend, I know that-”

        “I know this is hard for you,” Howie said.  “I don’t have to be alone with him, I can make sure someone else is always there.”

        “That’s tempting, you don’t know how tempting that is,” Chris said, still pacing.  “But it’ll happen sometime.  I have to trust you.  You were back on tour together, in the same situation, and I wasn’t there, and I had to trust you.  I can do it again.”

        “Any stipulations, any conditions you want,” Howie said.

        “I trust you,” Chris said.  “I think I trust you.  I know you don’t want to hurt me.  I don’t trust him.  And if he tries to - - you’re so damned nice, Howie.”

        “What are you saying?” Howie asked, walking towards him.

        “I can see it happening again,” Chris said.  “I think if he wanted you again, he could have you again, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

        “What is it going to take?!” Howie yelled with sudden intensity, startling Chris.  “What is it going to goddamned fucking take?!”

        Chris wondered if putting some space, or some furniture, between them would be too obvious a defensive move.

        “I can’t tell you I love you more than I already do.  I can’t show you I love you more than I already do.  I don’t know how.  What do you want?!  I can’t even ask my own lover to marry me!  I have changed, Chris.  I see things differently, and I do things differently.  AJ, AJ called me this morning and asked me to meet him, and I said no.  I told him no, I couldn’t, because that wouldn’t be fair to you.  I think of you, Chris, I put you first, I consider how you might see things, how you might react to things.  But you don’t trust me, you’ll never believe in me, this is what I’m talking about.”

        “You…”

        “You’re still punishing me.  I won’t say I don’t deserve that.  I betrayed you, and it’s hard for you to trust me, and I understand that.  But I don’t know what else I can do.”

        “I’m not punishing you,” Chris said.  “I’m not trying to punish you.  But you don’t…  It’s AJ.  He’s your best friend.  The two of you are so close you don’t even realize how close you are.”

        “He’s my friend.  Like Brian, or Nick, or Kevin.”

        “Howie, it’s AJ.  Those old concerts and videos I watch incessantly when I miss you?  He’s on them, too, and he’s so hot, he’s like half JC and half Justin.  He has a body and moves and, what did Lance call it, sleek grace?  I don’t have sleek anything.  I don’t have moves, either.  I don’t even have a body.”

        “I love your body,” Howie said.

        “Yes, but I pay you to say that.”

        Howie laughed.  “You do not.  Chris, I’m attracted to you.  I’m very sexually attracted to you.  I spend all day, every day, wanting you.”

        “Are you just saying that?”

        “No, I’m being honest.  I want you.  Why do you think we make love as often as we do?  Why do you think I’m on you all of the time?”

        “Joey would say it’s because you’re a lech.”

        “I’m a lech who wants you very badly.”  Howie kissed Chris’s mouth.  “Chris, there are guys who are better-looking than me.  Younger, taller, hotter.  Smarter.  Wealthier.  Guys who have more time to spend with you.  Guys who have friends you might actually like.  But when you and I are together, and you lean in to kiss me, I don’t think about that.  I don’t think about those guys, and I don’t think you’re thinking about them, either.”

        “There are other guys out there?” Chris asked.  “Hotter than you?”  He was surprised.  “Do you have their names?”

        Howie ignored that.  “I know it’s harder for you, because my competition is vague, and you have a name and a face for yours.  But there is no competition, Chris.  AJ’s no match for you.  You’re my Chris, my love, the one I want to go to sleep with every night, the one I want to wake up with every morning, the one I have to talk to every day or nothing seems right.  I love you, and no one, not AJ, no one at all, can compete with you for my attention.”

        “You’re making this extremely believable,” Chris said, weakening.

        “I want you,” Howie said.  “No one else has the same sexual pull on me that you do.  And no one could ever have my heart like you do.  I love you, Chris.  You’ve worked so hard and you’ve come so far, and you love your friends, and you’re creative, and you’re smart, and you’re so funny and crazy I could love you for that alone.”

        “AJ’s no match for me?” Chris tested.

        “AJ’s no match for you,” Howie said.  “No one is.  There’s no competition.”

        “You want me more than you want AJ.”

        “Yes.”

        “Hot damn.”  Chris had to think about that.  “I think I believe you.  I do believe you.  That’s somewhat frightening.  You’re alone in this, I want you to know that.  No one else would ever want me more than AJ.”

        “They must not be looking at you the way I am,” Howie said.

        “I believe you.  I think I really believe you.  For good this time.  When he gets here, I may relapse a little, get a little nervous.”

        “You don’t need to,” Howie said, kissing his cheek, stroking his neck.

        “Is it okay if I hate him?”

        “I don’t want you to hate him,” Howie said.

        “Is it okay if I hit him?”

        “Considering how I reacted to Steve that first time, it would be hypocritical to tell you not to hit AJ, but I don’t want you to.”

        “Don’t kiss him on the mouth.”

        “I wasn’t going to,” Howie said.  He rubbed his hand up Chris’s back.  “I won’t.”

        Chris took a moment to ponder and absorb.

        “I’m sorry I took you away from JC.  I didn’t mean for you to follow me,” Howie said.

        “Did we cover the ‘you’re an idiot’ territory?” Chris asked.

        Howie smiled.  “Yes.”

        “Okay.”  Chris wrapped his arms around Howie.  “Let’s have wild passionate sex, and then go back to make sure Nick and Lance haven’t killed each other.”

        Howie returned Chris’s embrace.  “I’m sorry I acted like an idiot.”

        “I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you.  And I’m sorry I was talking to Steve.”

        “You should be able to talk to anyone you want.”

        “I should have the balls to tell you about it.”

        Howie kissed him.

        “Wild, passionate sex?” Chris asked.

        Howie smiled.  “I’m ready.”

        “You are not going to believe this.”

        Drew smiled.  “Hi, Nick.  What am I not believing?”

        “Brian left me for a younger man.  Howie abandoned me.  Kevin’s gone, too.  Chris is even gone.  I’m stuck here alone.  With JC.  And Lance.”

        Drew’s spine stiffened.  “Really.”

        “JC’s fine, he’s writing a hundred-page letter to Justin, I guess to cover whatever he didn’t say in the first fifty pages Brian’s delivering for him.  Lance is being quiet, probably cooking up evil schemes in his head.  Plus I caught him checking out my ass.”

        “Kick him out.”

        “We’re supposed to be nice to him.”

        “I don’t want him in my house.  Kick him out.”

        “I’m going to need a reason.  Since what he thinks he knows, he doesn’t know, and we don’t know he knows it because it’s not true, or whatever, you know what I mean…  This is giving me a headache, trying to sort that out.  But I can’t kick him out because of that, because it’s not true and we’re not worrying about it.”

        “He is not spending the night.”

        “Okay.  I can work on that.  I’ll do that.”

        “How are you doing?”

        “Good.  Brian left.  Come home.”

        “So soon,” Drew promised.  “Is Brian all right?”

        “How far do things go before we can declare him legally cracked up?”

        “What happened?”

        “Something very bizarre that I don’t want to talk about over the phone, but we’re definitely discussing as soon as you get home.”

        “We can’t talk about it now?”

        “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

        “That doesn’t sound good.”

        “It’s freaky.  Are you okay?  You’re taking care of yourself?”

        “I’m fine.”

        “Details?”

        “Overworked, horny, the usual.”

        Nick laughed in his ear.  “Come home, relax, get laid.  It’ll feel great.”

        “When I come home, are you and Brian going to be in separate locations?”

        “Probably.”

        “That sucks,” Drew said.

        “Sucks,” Nick agreed.  “I’m closer to the airport, so come see me first, take a nap, suck my dick, and I’ll send you off to see Brian.  Or we’ll make Brian come home.”

        “There’s a plan,” Drew said.  “Justin can’t be any closer to home?”

        “We’re afraid that JC’s magic Justin homing device might kick in.  He has some sort of internal Justin awareness system.  And I think that since he has no idea at all where Justin is, that’s why he’s letting us trap him here.  If he had any possible way of tracking Justin down, he’d be out that door so fast your mother’s head would spin.”

        “How is that possible?  He can’t step out the front door and somehow sense that Justin is to the northwest.”

        “He’d figure it out.  Somehow.  You can’t keep JC away from Justin.”

        “You’re keeping him away from Justin right now.”

        “Yeah, and he hasn’t turned into a raving lunatic yet.  It’s weird.”

        “Maybe he’s less dependent than we thought.”

        “I wonder if he behaved for Brian, and now that I’m in charge, he’s going to lose it.”

        “If he hasn’t lost it yet, he won’t now.  Shouldn’t the worst part be over?”

        “I’m hearing scary music.”

        Drew laughed.

        Howie slid down his body another inch, kissing his navel.

        Chris bent his knee, putting one arm behind his head, basking.

        Howie ducked to the side and kissed Chris’s calf.

        Chris tried to see what Howie was doing.

        Howie was doing a slow, worshipful kissing licking sucking thing to the side of Chris’s left leg.  That was not one of Chris’s erogenous zones, but suddenly, it was extremely sensitive, and aware, and connected to his groin.

        The tattoo.  Howie was making mouth love to his tattoo, the one they’d just been talking about Justin mocking.  Chris shifted to see better, and Howie cupped his heel in one hand, getting a new angle.

        “What’s going on down there?” Chris asked.

        “I like it,” Howie said.

        “Okay.”  The basking mood was shifting into more of an aroused mood, and Chris’s dick was getting interested.  Howie liked the tattoo?  Whatever Howie liked, Chris liked, especially if it meant more sex.

        Howie switched, without warning, to Chris’s inner thigh.  Chris heard himself make a surprised sort of groaning sound.  Then Howie was beside him, stroking his chest, kissing his ear.  The kissing subsided, and the hand slowed, and Chris realized that Howie had drifted into relaxation mode.  The nice caressing of his chest wasn’t intended to lead to anything.

        Howie gently pulled at Chris’s nipple, head resting on his shoulder in contentment.

        “You’re a tease,” Chris said idly.

        “Am I?” Howie asked, fingers circling Chris’s other nipple in maddening circles.

        “I’ve never paid for sex,” Chris said.

        “I’m sure you’ve never had to,” Howie said.

        “I’d pay you.”

        “Should I be flattered?”

        “I’ll pay you now,” Chris said.

        Howie laughed.  “Is that a hint?”  His fingers walked down Chris’s chest.  “Is there something you’d like me to,” his hand stopped over Chris’s navel, “do?”

        “One hundred bucks for a blowjob,” Chris said.

        Howie was up and over him, smiling down into his face, hair brushing his cheek.  “I’d be happy to do it for free.”

        “You would?” Chris asked.

        Howie lowered his pelvis to Chris’s, rocking slowly.  He braced himself on his forearms, on either side of Chris’s head, leaning in tantalizingly close.  “You have to remember, though.”

        “Remember what?”

        “I am a tease.  Invite me for free, and take your chances.  I may deliver; I may not.  Pay me, and it’s a guarantee.”

        “One hundred?” Chris asked.

        Howie shook his head, then licked slowly over Chris’s upper lip.  “I never take less than five.”  His hips ground against Chris’s, making Chris moan.

        “Five hundred?” Chris asked.

        Howie licked Chris’s lower lip.  “Five thousand.”

        “Five thousand?” Chris asked.  “For five thousand, I’d better get more than a blowjob.”

        “Sorry,” Howie said, closing his fingers in Chris’s hair, tilting Chris’s head back slightly to kiss under Chris’s chin.

        “What do I get for one thousand?” Chris asked, willing to bargain.

        “For a thousand, you get to touch.”  Howie undulated against Chris’s body, rolling his hips gracefully.

        Chris groaned, wanting to see that again, feel that again.  He put his hands on Howie’s hips, barely able to keep still or quiet as Howie thrust against him.  “Two thousand?”

        “For two thousand,” Howie said, and licked a broad stripe up his cheek, “you get to touch and taste.”

        Touch and taste.  Chris gripped Howie’s hips more tightly, kissing Howie’s mouth.

        “How much?” Howie asked, licking Chris’s chin, looking at Chris with liquid eyes.

        “Nothing,” Chris said.  “I’m taking my chances.”

        Howie smiled and slid down his body.

        He’d come up with a dozen ideas for how to approach Kevin once he got home.  The romance method.  The humble plea method.  The make Kevin come to him method.  The get down on his knees and beg method.  The sexual seduction method.  The apology method.  The trouble was, he didn’t know which one would work.

        One of them had to work.  He couldn’t take this anymore.  If he didn’t get Kevin, he was going to get very, very nasty.

        Damn, he missed Kevin.  He missed Howie and Nick and Brian, too, but nothing like this.  Kevin was a craving in his blood, an itch in his hands, a gnawing hunger in the back of his brain.  It was sex, yes, but also more than sex; it was a need to be with Kevin, to be where Kevin was, to be on Kevin’s mind.

        Kevin had to be thinking about him.  Had to be.  Kevin had loved him this long; it wasn’t like that kind of devotion could find a sudden end.

        What if Kevin wasn’t thinking about him?  What if Kevin didn’t care anymore?  What if he’d ruined his chances?

        He was going to claw through Kevin’s front door and burst into Kevin’s home and make Kevin give him a second chance.

        He needed this time with Howie.  He needed advice.  He also needed a good smack in the back of the head, and he trusted Howie to provide that, too.

        He was being a chickenshit coward, and he knew it.  Somewhere along the line, he’d castrated himself, and he was in desperate need of a new pair of balls.  How had he talked himself into being afraid of Kevin?  How had he let himself run away for this long?  Where had his pride gone?

        Chris was on his back, his chest flushed red, trying to wriggle away as Howie gently bit his pelvic bone.  He reached down, trying to push Howie away; Howie captured his hands, holding them down, licking roughly into the crease where Chris’s thigh joined his body, using teeth there, too.

        Chris squirmed, making a quick, animal sound of protest.  Howie smiled to himself and watched Chris’s erection lift and darken as it filled.  A bit of suction there had Chris making helpless “ah ah” noises.

        Chris tugged his hands free and tried to push Howie away, then thought better of it and pulled Howie back, then gave up and buried his fingers in Howie’s hair, careful not to force Howie into anything but without a doubt encouraging Howie in a certain direction.

        Howie let himself be encouraged, licking his way over Chris’s dick while he massaged the inside of Chris’s thigh.  Chris groaned, asking for more.  Willing to give more, Howie held Chris’s erection in one hand, rubbing the head over his lips.  He licked pre-cum from his lips and stroked the shaft, Chris’s fingers against his scalp, Chris’s noises high and urgent.

        Sweet little licks around the head had Chris squirming.  Firmer licks had Chris’s hands switching from his hair to the bedclothes, gripping and pulling to relieve tension.  When Chris was writhing under Howie’s attention, making unhappy, too-happy begging sounds, Howie gave in, taking him on a fast ride of deep throating, sucking hard enough to make him break out in a fresh sweat.

        Chris sounded so grateful when he came, Howie wanted to do it again for him, soon.

        Howie licked his lips and wiped his mouth, crawling up to lay beside Chris.  Chris turned to him, embracing him with a contented mutter, pressing a thankful kiss to his cheek and falling asleep.

        “I love you, too, Chris,” Howie said, pulling the covers up over them, ignoring his hard-on in favor of a quiet nap in Chris’s arms.

        “It’s Drew.  Just checking in.  If you’re busy with Justin-”

        “No, I’m not there yet.  I’m at an Exxon about ten minutes away.”

        “I talked to Nick.  He misses you already.”

        “I miss him already,” Brian said.  “I found one of his CD’s in my car, and he wasn’t here with me to get into a fight about it.”

        Drew laughed.  “Is everything else all right?”

        “What do you mean?” Brian asked, shifting lower in his seat.

        “He said that something very strange happened, that he doesn’t want to talk about until I’m there in person.  Are you all right?”

        “I needed him,” Brian said, “and he strengthened me.”

        “Nick’s always going to be there for you,” Drew said.  “He strengthened you?”

        “I feel closer to him now.  I needed that, to be able to leave him to be with Justin.”

        “I can understand that,” Drew said.  “Brian, are you sure you’re up to this?”

        “Yes,” Brian said.

        “You don’t have to be.  We’ll understand.  We can help you.”

        “Understanding JC and understanding Justin come from such different places in me…  Understanding Justin is like understanding Nick, it’s second nature, I do it all day every day.  Understanding JC means touching places inside myself I haven’t visited before.”

        “And you don’t like that.”

        “No one wants to face his own weaknesses or his own sins.”

        “Sins?” Drew asked.

        “He’s damaged Justin, and made fundamental changes to who Justin is.  I’ve done the same to Nick and to you.”

        “No, you haven’t.  Not to me, Brian.  You haven’t-”

        “This isn’t the time or the place for this conversation.”

        “You can’t keep running.”

        “We can’t discuss this like this, miles apart.”

        “You won’t want to say anything to my face, either.”

        “We’ll get to that when it happens.”

        “Fine.  When I come home, you’re going to stop running, you’re going to face me and face Nick and face yourself.”

        “Fine.”

        “I don’t know when you turned into Nick, but I’m glad Nick’s stronger now, because I can’t handle two of you at the same time.”

        “I have not turned into Nick.”

        “You’re hiding and running, you-”

        “I’m stronger than he was.”

        “Yes, you are, but that’s not helping,” Drew said.  “It means you think you can handle all of this on your own, and that’s not true.”

        “I have always taken care of myself and taken care of Nick.  I can keep doing that.”

        “You have to let me help you.  I can help you with you, and I can help you with Nick.  Nick doesn’t need a baby-sitter, he needs two grown fiances.”

        “And what do I need?” Brian asked, tempted to snap it.

        “Besides a swift kick in the ass?” Drew asked.  “You need to let go of all of these fears you’re holding in.  You have to stop trying to be everything to everyone.  You have to stop thinking that you’re the only thing holding the world together.  You’re not.”

        “I am,” Brian said, despite himself.  It felt good, somehow, to say it.

        “You’re not,” Drew said, more kindly this time.  “Brian, you’re just not.”

        Brian put his hand over his eyes.

        “I love you,” Drew said.  “I love you, Brian, so much more than you know.  Let someone else help you with your burdens for once.  Unload some of that stuff.  Let me take care of you, Brian.”

        “It’s not that easy,” Brian said, rubbing his forehead.

        “If you let us help you, we can make it easier,” Drew said.  “You have to trust us, that’s all.  And you do, you do trust us.”

        “I do,” Brian agreed, sighing, leaning his head back.  “God, help me through this.”

        Drew, sensing that the last sentence had been addressed to an actual deity, stayed quiet.

        “I can do this,” Brian said.  “I’ve done difficult things before, and I’ve gotten through them, and in time, things came into place.  I can do this now.”

        “Yes, you can,” Drew said.

        “I have to stay strong, I have to get through this thing with Justin, and then the Fools, and then-”

        “And then you’ll be in the studio with the Backstreet Boys, and then you’ll be doing promos, and then you’ll be on tour - - no, Brian, no, you’re not putting this off.  You’re going through with it now.”

        “How am I going to be any good to Justin when I’m falling apart?”

        “That’s where you let other people help you.  You have people to turn to and lean on, to help you keep yourself together.  And there are other people who can help you with Justin.”

        “You’re asking too much of me,” Brian said.

        “You’ve created a living hell for yourself,” Drew said.  “I’m asking you to let that go.”

        “All right.”  Brian took a deep breath.  “I’m, I’ll-”

        “You want me to let you off this phone?” Drew guessed.

        “Yes,” Brian said, relieved and guilty.

        “That’s all right.  You go ahead and talk to Justin.  I’ll be seeing you soon.  I love you.”

        “I love you,” Brian said.  “I wish you were here.”

        “Soon,” Drew promised.

        Brian missed him.  “Good-bye.”

        “Bye,” Drew said.

        Brian hung up and looked at nothing out through the windshield.  He missed Drew.  He already missed Nick.  His soul was unsettled.  He tried his old, worn-smooth trick of pulling back into himself, of gathering all of his strengths together, but things immediately began to slide out of place.  How was he going to do this?

        The help of others.  The strengths of others.  He didn’t have to be the be-all and end-all.  He wasn’t alone.  He had a whole circle of people he knew he could turn to.

        Brian started the car, slipped Nick’s CD into the player, and hit the road.

        Lance was checking him out again.  Nick ignored it, walking over to JC, tugging at JC’s hair.  “Hey, Princess.  We can’t have good therapy time if you’re closed up writing to your beloved all day long.”

        “He has a lot to say,” Lance said.

        Nick bit back all of the rude retorts that sprung to mind, and focused on JC.  “Both of my beloveds are gone, too, you know.  You can talk to me about it.”

        “You’re a great listener,” Lance said.

        “I always listen to Drew,” Nick said.  “And usually to Brian.  And most of the time to JC, until he gets irritating.  But he’s going through things right now, so I can be patient.”

        “What a good friend,” Lance said, his eyes already dipping to Nick’s ass.

        Nick ignored that, pulling on JC’s hair again.  “JC, forget therapy, I need to talk to you, princess to bottom boy.”

        “What’s wrong?” JC asked, turning in his chair.

        “Yeah, not in front of him,” Nick said.  “Can you go home?” he asked Lance.

        “JC needs the support of his friends,” Lance said.

        “If I can get the leprechaun back here, you’re gone,” Nick said, reaching for the phone.

        “You’re going to kick me out?” Lance asked.

        “In a heartbeat,” Nick said, dialing.

        “Hello?” Howie asked, sounding half-asleep.

        “Are you asleep?” Nick asked.

        “Yes,” Howie said.  “No.”

        “Is your weird little friend there?”

        “Chris is here,” Howie said.

        “Are you okay?  Things are good?  I have no idea what the hell happened.”

        “I’m fine,” Howie said.  “We sorted things out.  What’s going on over there?”

        “Brian left.  Lance is still here, but I want to get Chris back so I can kick him out.”

        “I’m sorry about that.  I didn’t know he was going to come after me.  We’ll be right over.”

        “Thanks, Howie.”  Nick hung up.  “You stay here and keep writing,” he said to JC.  “I’m going to go change the sheets upstairs so you can stay with me tonight.”

        “You know how to make a bed?” Lance asked.

        “It’s not rocket science,” Nick said.

        “Drew taught him,” JC said.

        “Shut up,” Nick said.

        Kevin went up to the third floor.  It was funny to talk about a reservation for Wilson; years ago Howie and AJ had started booking rooms under Mr. Wilson, just so they could make Nick book under Dennis D. Menace.  Last time he’d come to meet someone booked under Wilson, he’d been-

        -Kevin stopped, one hand on the wall to steady himself.

        It wasn’t possible.  He wasn’t meeting AJ here, he was meeting a psychiatrist.   A psychiatrist.  To help JC and Justin.  Because they were crazy.  He, himself, would have to be crazy, to think that this was a clandestine meeting arranged so that…so that…

        So that what?  What did he honestly think?  AJ wanted to meet him under false pretences?  Why, to tell him he had no chance of ever touching AJ again?  Good, only a few people knew where they were, he could kill AJ and dump the body and only Howie and the hotel staff would know.

        This was ridiculous.

        He was out of his mind.  His brain was so AJ-saturated, he was inventing scenarios.  He had to get over this.  He-

        George Wilson.  George Wilson, Howie and AJ would be George and Martha Wilson, and Brian would be Ruff, because Brian was nuts, and he’d be stuck with Margaret or Joey.

        The reservation was under George Wilson.  Howie had said that the doctor’s name was George Wilson.  He hadn’t thought anything of it, but why would he?

        George Wilson was a real name, probably a common name.  He was only making this harder on himself.  When he got to the room and was faced with a stranger, a psychiatrist, he was only going to hate himself for getting his hopes up, for living in a fantasy.

        That was all it was.  A fantasy.  AJ wasn’t in that room.  AJ wasn’t in the hotel.  AJ was God-knew-where, doing God-knew-what, not giving him a second thought.

        Kevin straightened his shoulders and knocked on 340.