Copyright April 2, 2002-December 29, 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.  It also is for Elizabeth and Jeff.

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.

        Kevin laid back, hands behind his head.  “Love and run?”

        “You’re tempting, sexy, but I have something to do before I settle in for the night,” AJ said, bending over to kiss him.

        “Like what?” Kevin asked.

        “Something I could use help with,” AJ said.

        “You called this meeting,” Chris said to Joey.  “You start.”

        “I’ll start,” Justin said.  “Today was the big meeting, and I didn’t want to interrupt anything, but next time I see Lance, he and I are going to have a serious talk about staying the fuck off JC.”

        “I’m going to have that talk with Lance, too,” JC said.

        “Do you have to?” Chris asked.

        “Hell, yes,” Justin said.

        “Yes,” JC said.

        “Things are settling down,” Chris said.  “If we want to keep him off drugs, this would be a good time to show him support, not yell at him.  He hasn’t tried to break up the two of you in days, and he hasn’t tried to break up me and Howie in days, either.”

        “There’s no excuse for his behavior,” JC said.  “I’ll help him when he demonstrates that he’s willing to change.”

        “Getting off drugs is change,” Chris said.  “And he’s helping with the Fools.”

        “He only agreed to that in the first place to get closer to JC,” Justin said.

        “That was before,” Chris said.  “We don’t know what he’s thinking now.”

        “That’s my problem,” Justin said.  “I don’t know what he’s thinking.  I don’t trust him.”

        “We’ve always trusted each other,” Chris said.  “Even when we couldn’t trust anyone else, we always trusted each other.”

        “Do you trust Lance?” JC asked Chris.

        “I trust that he’s still Lance,” Chris said.  “I trust that we’re still a big part of each other’s lives.  I trust that no matter what happens or what he does, if he needs my help, I’ll come running.  I may be cursing under my breath, but I’ll still come running.”

        “I love Lance,” Justin said.  “Chris, we’ll all always love Lance.  But there are things that I want to say to him.  He’s going to have to show me that he’s someone I can trust as a friend.”

        “Say something, Joe, help us out,” JC urged.

        “We had sex today,” Joey said.  “Again.”

        JC stared.

        “Who?” Chris asked.

        “Lance and I, we had sex,” Joey said.  “Again, today.”

        Justin’s jaw dropped.

        “What?” Chris asked.

        “Sex!” Joey said.  “I fucked Lance on his desk in his office, and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and when it was over he just walked out.”

        “That’s not funny, Joey,” Chris said.

        “When was the first time?” JC asked.

        “At the end of the tour,” Joey said.

        “This isn’t funny!” Chris protested.  “That’s a sick joke, Joey.”

        “Joey?” Justin asked.

        “We were on tour, I don’t know what happened, I started…touching him, and he…  But after, it was weird.  I didn’t know what had happened, so I didn’t know what to say to him, and he…”  Joey sighed, frustrated.  “Sometimes it was like it had never happened, and sometimes it was like he was holding it over my head.   I don’t know why he did it.”

        “Why did you do it?” JC asked, leaning forward with focused concentration.

        Justin remembered to close his mouth.

        “I don’t know,” Joey said.  “I wanted to know what it would be like.”

        “With a guy?” JC asked.

        Joey frowned, then shook his head.  “With Lance.”

        “What happened today?” JC asked.

        “I’ve been…wanting him,” Joey said.  “Touching him.  Kissing him.  I like the way it feels.  It’s been harder and harder to stop.  Today, in his office, I wanted him.  I kissed him, and kissing meant touching, and touching meant groping, and groping meant undressing, and then we were…”

        “Oh, god,” Chris said, looking away.

        “When it was over, he got up and left.”

        “You wanted to dance?” Chris asked.

        “I wanted to talk,” Joey said.  “Or do it again.  Something.”

        Chris stared at Joey in disbelief.

        “You haven’t talked to him since then?” JC asked Joey.

        “No,” Joey said.  “I don’t know what to say, and I don’t know what he’s going to say.”

        JC looked like he was deep in thought.

        “You screwed Lance,” Chris said.

        “Yeah,” Joey said.

        “Why?” Chris asked.

        “I don’t know,” Joey said, shrugging.  “It felt good.”

        “In what way?” JC asked.

        “What?” Joey asked.

        “It felt good physically?” JC asked.

        “Yeah,” Joey said.  “But that’s what’s different.  With the rest of my sex life, it feels good, I love it, but it’s flatter.  With Lance, it’s different.  It feels good inside, too.  It’s more satisfying, even before I come.”

        “Are you planning to screw other guys now?” Chris asked.

        “No,” Joey said, frowning.  “I don’t want guys.”

        “Lance is a guy,” JC pointed out.

        “What are you going to do?” Chris asked Joey.  “Date him?”

        “I can’t date Lance,” Joey said.  “I’m not gay.”

        “I think we’re past the whole gay-straight thing,” Chris said.  “Keep up.”

        “You have to tell him how you feel, man,” JC said.  “It deserves to be said.”

        “I don’t know how I feel,” Joey said.

        Drew ran his fingers through Brian’s hair.

        “He’s knocked out,” Nick said.

        “I think it was good for him to give himself over to someone else and let go of the control for once,” Drew said.

        “He burdens himself with too much,” Nick said.

        “Is he really going to be all right with Jeff?” Drew asked.  “He turned around pretty fast on that one.”

        “He’s going to apologize, and he’s going to mean every word of it,” Nick said.  “He knows how unfair he’s been.  I just hope that Nick and Jeff accept his apology.”

        “They will,” Drew said.  “This whole mess has put too much of a strain on all of our relationships.  They want it to be over with as much as we do.”

        Nick rested his head on Brian’s pillow, nose-to-nose with Brian.  Under the sheet, he stroked Brian’s back.

        “You were good,” Drew said.  “You knew what he was thinking, and you knew that exposing it would make him see how wrong he was.  I wouldn’t have known to say all of that.”

        “That’s why there are two of us,” Nick said.  “You get things I miss, and I catch things you miss.  You don’t have to be one hundred percent on-target every single time.  Together, we can muddle through anything.”

        “Muddle?” Drew asked with a smile, his cheek on Brian’s shoulder, gazing at Nick across the pale expanse of Brian’s back.

        “You love muddling through life with us,” Nick said, twisting a lock of Brian’s hair around his fingers.

        “I do,” Drew agreed.  He stroked Nick’s fingers.

        “You’re going to have to keep putting your foot down on stuff,” Nick said.  “So Brian knows he’s not responsible for everything on his own.”

        “Yeah.”  Drew’s index finger created patterns across Brian’s shoulder blades.

        Nick closed his eyes.  It hadn’t been easy for him to see Brian exposed and hurt and raw and angry like that.  He’d thought that maybe, overall, it would be better if Brian just kept bottling everything up and acting like everything was okay.  But that wasn’t fair to Brian, or good for any of them.  Now Brian was looking peaceful, and maybe in the morning, things would be okay.  As long as Brian was asleep, Nick wanted to be curled up asleep beside him.

        “Nick,” Drew said softly.

        Nick thought about replying, but sleep was already overtaking him.  He thought he heard, as he drifted off, Drew’s voice, quiet and loving: “Good night, beautiful.”

        “I don’t even know,” Justin said, rubbing a distracted hand over his scalp.  “Joey, what...”

        “I don’t know,” Joey said.  “I love sex, sex is great.  I’m good at it.  But with Lance, it hits a whole new level.  I feel things I’ve never felt with anyone else in all of these years.”

        “It’s not just the sex,” JC said.  “You love him.”

        “Of course I love him, I’ve always loved Lance,” Joey said.

        “Wait, what are you saying?” Justin asked JC.

        “You love all women,” JC said to Joey.  “Have you ever loved one above the rest?”

        “No,” Joey said.  “I thought I might, once or twice, but it never turned into anything.”

        “None of them stand out,” JC said.

        “No,” Joey said.  “Not really.  Not long-term.”

        “Lance does,” JC said.

        “He always has,” Joey said.

        “Joey’s not in love with Lance,” Chris said.  “That’s not possible.”

        “Joey, don’t,” Justin said.  “He’s going to break your heart.”

        “Lance already broke my heart,” Joey said.  “I’m still hanging on, loving him as much as I ever did.”

        “Are you saying you’re in love with him?” Justin asked.

         “I don’t know,” Joey said.

        Chris sighed.

        Joey looked at his hands.  “I might be.”

        “What?” Chris asked.

        “I don’t know!” Joey said.

        “Figure it out,” Chris said.

        “All I know is, he’s my best friend.  I want him to be happy.  I want him to feel good about himself.  I want him to have good things in his life.”

        “That’s how I feel about Howie,” Chris said.  “That’s also how I feel about Justin.”

        Justin laughed.  “Thanks, Chris.  You, too.”

        “Can you be more specific?” Chris asked Joey.

        “Do you want to wake up beside him every day and blend the rest of your lives?” JC asked.

        “Yes,” Joey said.

        “Really?” Chris asked.

        “You’re in love with Lance?” Justin asked.

        “I don’t know,” Joey said.  “I know that I’m in love with him, I just don’t know what comes after that.”

        AJ wasn’t taking his calls.  He wasn’t calling Joey.  That left Derek, and he was off drugs.

        Then again, who would know?  He could use a little pick-me-up.

        Lance reached for his phone.

        AJ had known at first glance, had seen it in one look.  No one else had been able to tell, but AJ… “It’s in his eyes.  It’s all over his face.”  How could AJ tell, when Chris, who knew for a fact that he’d been using, hadn’t known?

        Bullshit.  After rushing in and being his new best friend, AJ was cutting him off again.  AJ had no right to dictate how he lived his life, since AJ wasn’t even in his life anymore.

        Lance dialed the first two numbers.  He’d just take enough to feel a little more clear-headed.  He was confused over Joey, and he didn’t like it.

        Besides, wouldn’t that be a good way to get back at Joey, if someone found out?  Joey had driven him back to coke.  Joey would take that hard.

        Lance dialed the rest of the number.

        A quick cough.  “Derek.”

        Lance opened his mouth to speak.

        JC leaned closer over the table.  He put the edge of the rolled bill to the end of the trail.  His hand was shaking.

        “Hello?” Derek asked.

        Lance cleared his throat.  He wanted this.  He deserved this.  He could handle it.  He wasn’t going to let anyone’s disapproval get to him.  Who were they to judge?

        “No,” JC said.  “I want to get it over with.”  He closed his eyes, breathing carefully, then opened them again and lowered himself closer to the tabletop, aligning-

        Lance hung up.

        Damn it, he could make his own decisions.  If he wanted a little something to save this fucking bad day, why not?  Everyone else was out there having a good time, getting laid and pretending to be in love.  Why couldn’t he have his own good time?

        He dialed.

        JC put the edge of the rolled bill to the end of the trail.  His hand was shaking.

        Lance threw the phone across the room, where it hit the wall and fell, broken.

        “Joey, you’re good for Lance,” JC said.

        “I’ve done him a lot of good this far,” Joey said.

        “You can help him,” JC said.  “He’s hurt all of us, but we’re treating him differently because of it.  You’re not.  You’re still by his side, loving him.”

        “I told him he has my unconditional love,” Joey said.

        “Doesn’t that seem like something he’d try to test?” Chris asked.

        “Maybe that’s what he’s doing,” Justin said.  “Seeing how far you’ll go.”

        “What would that mean?” Chris asked.  “That he wants Joey, or that he doesn’t?”

        “I don’t understand Lance at all anymore,” Justin said.  “I have no idea.”

        “He wants Joey to run,” JC said.  “He wants Joey to leave him, the way everyone else has.  The more Joey stays, the harder Lance pushes.”

        “It’s going to escalate?” Justin asked.  “How far?”

        “I don’t know,” JC said.  “Joey, you have to talk to him.  Tell him how you feel.”

        “We’ve covered this,” Justin said.  “Joey doesn’t know how he feels.”

        “Joey knows how he feels,” JC said.  “He just hasn’t recognized it.”

        “Did that even make sense?” Chris asked Justin.

        “Go,” JC said to Joey.  “Go now.”

        “Now?” Joey asked, checking his watch.

        “You’d be out clubbing until dawn anyway,” Justin said.  “Don’t pretend it’s late.”

        “He’s probably not even home,” Joey said.

        “Then go and wait for him to get home,” Justin said.

        “This is nuts,” Joey said.  “He won’t listen to me.  He never does.”

        “Don’t fall for his bullshit,” Chris said.  “We can all see right through him, but we keep falling for it anyway, because we want to believe.  You know better.”

        “It’s not hard,” Justin said.  “You’ve told girls you’re in love with them before.”

        “But this time I mean it,” Joey said.

        “You’ve told Lance you love him before,” Justin pointed out.

        “This is different,” Joey said.  “It’s…  It’s not just friendship.”

        “Joey, with you and Lance, it hasn’t been ‘just friendship’ for a long time now,” JC said.

        “What about sex?” Chris asked.  “Do you really want to have sex with him again?  You’ve never struck me as the kind of guy who likes to suck other guys’ dicks.”

        “Chris, damn,” Justin said.

        “That’s important,” Chris said.

        “You never struck me as the kind of guy who loved dick, either, until Howie came along,” Justin said.

        “That’s fair,” Chris said.

        “I like Lance’s body,” Joey said.  “I never thought about putting my mouth on his dick.”  He looked faintly grossed out.  “I don’t think I could do that.”

        “Don’t rule anything out,” JC said.  “You didn’t think you could ever get it up over a guy, either.”

        “Why Lance?” Chris asked.  “Is he particularly studly?  JC’s much hotter.  And this boy over here,” he added, gesturing towards Justin.

        “Lance is hot,” Justin said.

        “But if you’re going to grab someone for your first male-male sexual experience, would it be Lance?” Chris asked.

        “It’s kind of a moot point,” Justin said.  “Joey’s already done it.”

        “I’d pick JC,” Chris said.

        “Or, maybe, say, Howie?” Justin reminded him.

        “Maybe that’s why I never believed that I was Howie’s first guy,” Chris said.  “I wouldn’t pick me as a first anything.”

        “Or last,” Justin said.

        “What?” Chris asked.

        “If I were committing myself to one person for the rest of my life, would I want to sit back and think that you were the last person I’d ever have sex with?” Justin asked.

        “Well, thank you not,” Chris said.  “Luckily for you, Howie already has taken that burden from you.”

        “I wonder why,” Justin said.

        “Apparently, I’m great in bed, and you’re really missing out on something special,” Chris said.

        “Probably,” Justin said.  “Poor me, stuck with JC.”

        “And the rest of the world writhes in jealousy,” Chris said with a sigh, eyeing JC.

        JC smiled.

        “Even eBay didn’t have one,” Kevin said.

        “Doesn’t that signify that something’s very wrong with the world?” AJ asked.

        “What it says is that you were willing to put a lot of effort into getting it,” Kevin said.  “And a considerable amount of money.”

        AJ stretched.  “I should talk to Howie.  He wasn’t giving me the time of day at the meeting.”

        “I noticed that,” Kevin admitted, scratching between and around AJ’s shoulder blades.

        “I understand,” AJ said.  “I can’t blame him for it.”  He stood, leaning against Kevin, an arm around Kevin, the sheet slipping to his hips before Kevin caught it.  “I’d like to talk to him now, but he’s probably getting cosy with Chris.”

        “You should talk to them in person,” Kevin said.

        “I know.  I will.  Tomorrow.”  AJ plucked at the front of Kevin’s undershirt.  “What were we doing before I dragged you out of bed?”

        “Enjoying a nice, warm afterglow,” Kevin said, tightening his arm around AJ’s waist.

        “We should get back to that,” AJ said, trailing his fingers down the center of Kevin’s chest.  “Or…”

        “Or?” Kevin asked, green eyes intense.

        “What were we doing before that?” AJ asked.

        “If I remember correctly,” Kevin said, his voice calm but his eyes burning, “I was making you so hard you were begging me to satisfy you.”

        “I don’t beg,” AJ reminded Kevin, and licked, his tongue following the line of Kevin’s jaw.

        Kevin turned his head, meeting AJ’s mouth in a deep kiss, his hand fisting in the sheet, pulling it down.  The sheet fell to the floor, and Kevin lifted AJ to sit on the padded back of the couch, AJ’s fingers flexing on Kevin’s back.  Kevin lifted his head, waiting for AJ’s dark eyes to open, seeing hunger, passion, greed.  “Beg me.”

        Lust and pride flared in equal amounts.  AJ reached for Kevin’s face, to draw him in for a kiss.

        Kevin caught AJ’s hands.  “Beg me.”

        The ocean was powerful and deep, creative and mysterious, dangerous and beautiful, experienced yet never fully known.  Its waves slammed against the rock, and broke.  It met the cliff face and was made to concede to the greater, immovable force.  AJ pulled one hand free and brought it to Kevin’s face, saying in a low, rough voice, “Fuck me.  Kevin.  Please, fuck me.”

        Kevin’s hands skimmed down AJ’s back to hold AJ’s hips, getting a firm grip.  Then Kevin lowered himself to his knees.

        “Jesus,” AJ said at the first hot lick from Kevin’s tongue.  “Hell, yes.”  He closed his eyes, gripping the back of the sofa.  “Ooohhh…”

        Kevin briefly tightened his grip, digging his nails into AJ’s skin.

        “Please, Kevin, please,” AJ said.  “God, yes, please, more, more, more, yes…”  He moaned when Kevin began to suck.  “Kevin, please, yes, fuck…”  AJ shuddered, toes curling.

        Kevin pulled AJ’s hips just slightly forward, balancing him very carefully on the edge of the sofa back.

        On edge, tensing, AJ tried to curl forward.  Kevin gently pushed him backwards, on the verge of overbalancing him, then sucked hard.  AJ moaned, arching back over the sofa, shoulders on the cushions, head falling back over the edge.  Kevin held AJ’s hips still, sucking in a steady rhythm, pausing to lick the velvet head of his dick.  His back in a long arc, AJ moaned, raising his knees, feet on Kevin’s shoulders.

        AJ closed his eyes, trying to keep himself together, but his panting continued to break off into wild moaning, and his dick felt so hard he was amazed there was any blood left to rush to his head.  He wanted to come, and he could feel how close he was, right on the verge, but Kevin wouldn’t let it end.  He had to come; his body was fighting for it.  He needed it, he needed, he needed…

        AJ began to beg.  After a moment, he was no longer aware of the words he used; he only knew a desperate driving need for orgasm, mind-bending suction, fire in his blood, pounding in his heart-

        AJ cried out, exploding in orgasm, arms flung wide.

        Kevin licked up the last drops.

        AJ opened his eyes as his breathing slowly evened.  He relaxed his body, crossing his arms over his chest, slipping his feet from Kevin’s shoulders.

        Kevin’s hands slid up AJ’s back, supporting his spine, lifting him.

        AJ rose upright, temporarily dizzy, kissing Kevin’s mouth.  “You think you can have me wherever you want me,” he said, taking another kiss, “however you want me.”

        “I can,” Kevin said, setting him on his feet.

        AJ laughed.  “I shouldn’t have let you know that.”

        Kevin smiled.  “I like it.”

        Arousal and happiness mingled.  “I guess you do.”

        “AJ,” Kevin said, and sucked on his favorite vein in AJ’s neck.  AJ leaned back into the support of Kevin’s hands on his spine.  “AJ, ask me to fuck you.”

        “God,” AJ said, closing his eyes, fisting his hands in Kevin’s undershirt as Kevin’s teeth grazed his flesh.  “Yes, please, please, fuck me.”

        “Say my name,” Kevin urged, running his hands up to AJ’s shoulders, down to AJ’s ass.

        “Kevin,” AJ said, feeling the need for it vibrating deep in his body.  He moaned.  “Kevin…”

        Kevin kissed him, and AJ made a low sound almost like a growl, latching onto Kevin, groaning, pushing, feeding, taking.  Kevin pushed AJ back towards the bedroom; halfway there, AJ began to pull Kevin in return.  Together, they fell onto the bed, stripping off Kevin’s clothes.

        Kevin rolled them over, putting AJ on his back.  AJ kissed Kevin fiercely, panting heavily when Kevin stopped.  “Now,” AJ insisted, “now, now, n-”  He broke off into a harsh groan as Kevin pushed into his body.

        AJ had never given himself to anyone the way he gave himself to Kevin.  Sometimes it scared him; sometimes he wondered what in hell he was doing.  Sometimes it felt more right than anything else in his life ever had.

        “Storm in, tell him you love him, throw him on the bed, and ravish him,” Justin instructed Joey.

        “Tell him that you love him,” JC said.  “The storming and ravishing is up to you.”

        “A good ravish can really put everything in perspective,” Justin argued.

        “Joey doesn’t need us pressuring him into sex with Lance,” JC said.

        “Just go,” Justin said to Joey.  “Go, pour your heart out, have a good time.”

        “Thanks,” Joey said.

        JC embraced him.

        “Let us know how it turns out,” Chris said.

        “Here goes nothing,” Joey said, inhaling a deep breath.  He took his keys from Chris and left.

        “Gosh, I sure do hope that those two crazy kids can make it,” Chris said.

        “You really do look good today,” Justin said.  “What’s different?”

        “I flossed,” Chris said.

        “You heading out?” JC asked.

        “Yeah,” Chris said, juggling his own keys now.  “If Howie’s not actually naked in bed asleep, he’s doing his late-night puttering around the house, and I hate missing either one.  So, see you guys tomorrow.”  He left.

        “Howie putters?” Justin asked.

        “Do I putter?” JC asked.

        “I think I putter,” Justin said, frowning.

        “A little,” JC said with a smile.

        Justin wandered back towards the living room.  “I hope Joey’s careful.  Lance could really tear a lesser man apart.  Joey seems indestructible, but he’s never been in love before.  I don’t even know what to think.  Maybe once I see them together, it’ll make more sense.  Right now I’m just…”  Justin’s voice trailed off as he turned.  “JC?”

        JC’s eyes were intent on him.  “Justin.”

        Zero to one hundred in two need-saturated syllables.  Justin heard it in JC’s voice, the need.  JC wanted Justin.  Wanted Justin to take him.  Justin’s body responded immediately: his pulse and breathing quickened, his cock hardened, and his hands, his mind, his entire being became driven by the single, primal urge to possess JC.

        Justin wanted to have JC, take JC.  He needed it.  When he spoke, he heard it in his voice.  “JC.”  The very fiber of him shook with it.

        JC shuddered.  “Upstairs,” JC breathed, and turned to go.

        Before he knew what he was doing, Justin reached out, grabbing JC by the arm, whirling JC around and dragging JC against his body.

        Before JC could speak, Justin was kissing him, kissing with hunger and lust and the overwhelming need to possess.  JC was making a light, throaty, whimpering kind of noise, trying to get inside Justin’s clothes.  Justin was trying to walk, making halting progress to get to the stairs and, beyond that, the bedroom.

        Leaving the living room, more focused on sucking each other’s tongues than on their ambulatory skills, they walked into a stand, spilling a plant to the floor.  In the hallway, jerking abruptly in response to JC’s hand being down the front of his pants, Justin bumped a painting askew.

        By the time they made it into the foyer, they’d left behind a trail of shoes, socks, shirts, and a belt.  Justin, still in his jeans and undershirt, pushed JC’s naked back to the door, devouring JC’s mouth with his kiss.  JC’s hands were greedy over Justin’s torso through his undershirt; JC was moaning into Justin’s kiss, needy and begging in tones that Justin had never before heard.

        The sound of JC feeling that kind of need, and admitting to it, had Justin on fire.  He spun them around, backing JC to the stairs, taken over anew by the need to get JC in his bed.

        JC, owned by Justin’s kiss, barely aware that they were moving, much less what was around him, was startled to hit the first step.  He lost his balance and fell, landing splayed on the stairs.  He looked up with wide eyes, stunned.

        Justin was standing over JC, breathing hard, one hand gripping the banister.  Justin was visibly hard, and the sight, the promise of Justin’s erection, made JC pant, made JC harder.

        Justin took his hand from the banister and slowly put both hands to his fly, capturing all of JC’s attention.  He unbuttoned his jeans, then dragged the zipper down, not even blinking at the whimper that escaped JC.

        With his boxer-briefs showing, and the outline of his erection visible, Justin removed his undershirt, exposing his hard chest.  Tossing his shirt aside, Justin knelt on the stairs, making quick work of JC’s pants, leaving JC naked.  JC breathed Justin’s name, reaching inside Justin’s underwear, making Justin curse and kiss him, quickly.

        “Baby,” JC said, “baby, Justin, please, Justin, I need you.”

        Justin shoved down his jeans and underwear, kicking his feet free, all without leaving JC’s kiss.

        “Justin, baby, please,” JC begged, his hands travelling Justin’s body in mindless patterns, his body jerking and writhing at Justin’s every touch.  His cock was so hard, precum seeped from the head.  His kiss was desperate, pleading and clinging.

        Justin twisted away, rummaging through the clothes scattered across the marble foyer until he found the lube in JC’s jeans.  “Over, now,” he said, hands on JC’s hips.

        Instantly, JC turned over, bracing himself on hands and knees on the stairs.  A spare second later, JC felt Justin’s finger probing and slicking, quick preparation.  He barely had time to breathe before he felt the first rough thrust of Justin’s dick.

        “Justin, yes, baby, yes, harder, Justin, oh, oh, ooohhh…”  JC was in motion, rocking back against Justin’s hips, driving Justin deeper.  Justin was moaning, hips pumping, one hand on JC’s dick.  JC’s fist pounded a stair; Justin’s hand was filled with hot, sticky cum.

        JC never came that fast.

        Justin fucked JC’s body, owning it, possessing it, giving in to his need.  He was crying out, but he couldn’t understand any of his own words.  Pleasure was pulsing in his dick, heavy in his balls, climbing his spine.  He tried to push it back, because possessing JC was more important than mere orgasm.

        “Justin, Justin, oh god, you’re so good, baby, take me, own me, I’m yours, make me yours, Justin…”

        Driven by JC’s words, Justin fucked faster, gripping the railing, slamming his hips forward.  JC was his, only his, always his.  His best friend, his lover, his husband, exclusively his and no one else’s.  He owned JC’s body, he was proving his ownership, he was marking JC as his own.

        “Yes, Justin, Justin, baby, fuck me, fuck me…”

        JC never used those words, never said that, and the shock of it was such an unexpected thrill that it was all it took to push Justin over the edge.  He came deep inside JC, spilling out the overload of his pleasure.  Slowly he came back into himself, pushing himself off of JC’s body, dropping beside JC on the stairs.

        JC rolled over halfway, into Justin.

        Justin welcomed JC’s warmth and weight, closing his eyes.

        “How soon can we do that again?” JC asked.

        Justin heard the ultra-fine edge in JC’s voice, and opened his eyes.  “JC?” he checked.

        “It’s still in me,” JC said.  “The need.”

        Justin’s nerve endings tingled.  “Tell me what you want from me, JC.”

        “Make love to me,” JC said.  “Again and again.”  His hand tensed on Justin’s thigh.  “I want to feel you inside me,  I want you to make me come.”

        Justin found JC’s hand.  It was trembling.  “Come upstairs with me,” he said.  “I’ll make love to you.”

        JC’s grip was tight.  “All night?” he asked, and Justin heard his need.

        “All night,” Justin promised.  “Until you can’t move.”

        “I want you to fuck me,” JC said, turning further towards Justin, until Justin could feel the hardening thickness of JC’s arousal.  “Take me, use me, own me until I feel like I belong to you all the way through.  I want to feel about you what you feel about me.  We were apart for too long and I want to be yours again, for good.”

        Justin kissed him, already feeling the heady rush of power.  “You’re mine,” he said, “and I can prove it.”

        Howie had left a few lights on for him.  He turned them off, then went upstairs in the dark, quietly entering their bedroom.  There was a shaded lamp lit in the corner, letting him see that Howie was indeed in the bed, and asleep.  Chris brushed his teeth and stripped, then sat on the edge of the bed.  “Howie,” he whispered.  “Wake up.”  He kissed Howie’s cheek.  “Howie.”

        Howie rolled over, pushing himself up on one elbow.  “Chris?”

        “I’m disturbed and I want to talk to you.”

        “Okay,” Howie said, sitting up, rubbing at his eye, as if anyone as beautiful-perfect as Howie Dorough got eye crud.  “What’s wrong?”

        “Joey’s fucking Lance.”

        Howie frowned.  “Your Joey?”

        “Yes,” Chris said impatiently.

        “Is having sex with Lance?”

        “Yes.  Isn’t that illegal?”

        “How did it start?” Howie asked.  “It’s an ongoing thing?”

        “Joey makes it sound like he started it, but that’s bullshit, I know it had to have been Lance.  Maybe Joey wanted Lance, but he wouldn’t have shoved his dick up Lance’s ass without provocation.  That bastard seduced Joey.”

        “I didn’t realize Joey was bi,” Howie said.

        “Hell, Joey didn’t realize Joey was bi,” Chris said.  “Howie, I love Lance, but he’s evil, he’s Satan with dance moves, he’s going to kill us all.”

        “I don’t think he’s going to murder us,” Howie said.

        “He seduced Joey!  Twice!  Today, in his office, on his desk!  Joey’s confused and hurt, for Joey.  We have to figure out what Lance is planning, and stop him.”

        “Isn’t that between Lance and Joey?” Howie asked.

        “The only thing between Lance and Joey is a thin layer of latex,” Chris said.  “Joey’s stupid, he just went over to Lance’s house to tell Lance how he feels.  That’s just giving Lance more ammunition!  If Lance realizes he has Joey twisted in knots, vulnerable, then he’ll really strike.”

        “Joey can take care of himself,” Howie said.  “Did you talk to JC and Justin?”

        “They’re no help.  JC’s encouraging Joey, and Justin’s as baffled and mystified as I am.”

        “You could talk to Lance,” Howie said.

        “It’s too late now,” Chris said, sighing.  “Joey’s probably already professed his love.”

        “Would it be all that bad for Lance to know that someone loves him?” Howie asked.  “He doesn’t have too many active friends right now.”

        “You’re being too reasonable,” Chris said.

        “I’m surprised, and confused, but if Joey’s really in love…  No matter how angry with the world Lance is, he must recognize the value of true love.”

        “True love,” Chris said.  “Two words.  Two syllables.  Eight letters.”

        “What?” Howie asked.

        “Do you believe in true love?” Chris asked.

        Howie’s touch was tender as his fingers skimmed Chris’s cheek.  He smiled.  “Believe in it?  I’m living it.”

        Chris took Howie’s hand in his.  “What is true love?”

        “It’s love that feels destined.  It’s looking into someone’s eyes and knowing that the love between you is real and lasting and alive.  It’s loving someone even when he’s far away.  It’s passionate and irrational and magical.  It’s knowing with absolute truth that no one else will ever mean to you what this person means to you today.”

        Chris lay on his back, still holding Howie’s hand.  “Do you believe in Santa Claus?”

        “You think true love is a fairy tale,” Howie said.

        Chris looked at the ceiling so he wouldn’t see the hurt in Howie’s eyes.  There wasn’t a lot of pain in Howie’s voice, but Chris was experienced in the nuances of Howie’s various tones, and he could detect hurt feelings.  “I think it’s something people made up to convince themselves that they were doing the right thing when they were unsure.”

        “Are you unsure?” Howie asked.

        Chris didn’t know what to say.

        Howie slipped his hand from Chris’s, leaving Chris’s hand empty and alone.  “I’m sure,” Howie said, and he was angry.  Chris closed his eyes.  “I’m sure of our love, not just mine but yours.  If I hadn’t been sure, I wouldn’t have moved into this house with you.  If I weren’t sure, it wouldn’t stab me with killing pain to know that we’ll never marry.  How can you not be sure?  Do you doubt my love?  Or do you just not love me enough?”

        Chris opened his eyes, sitting up.

        “That’s why you bought this house for me, not for us.  That’s why you won’t let me propose to you.  You aren’t willing to commit to our relationship after a certain point.  You want an escape route.”

        Howie didn’t get angry very often.  When he did, it was usually controlled anger, very hot but very still.  At the moment, his voice was furious but tight, and his eyes were flashing with suppressed rage.  Chris was scared.  Scared that he’d made Howie this mad, and wouldn’t be able to fix it.

        “No one makes me as happy as you do, Chris.”  Howie’s entire body was visibly tense.  “No one hurts me as badly as you do, Chris.”

        Oh, that one had cut deeply.  Chris touched his chest to make sure he wasn’t actually bleeding.

        “You have nothing to say,” Howie said.

        Chris had never heard Howie be disgusted with him before.  God, it opened wounds.

        “Good night, Chris.”  Howie lay down, turning his back to Chris, and said no more.

        This was bullshit.  He parked in Lance’s driveway and got out, walking to the front door.

        Joey hesitated.  His nerve had never failed him before, but at the moment, he was unable to ring Lance’s doorbell, in case Lance answered.  He didn’t know what to do, or what to say.  What was worse, he couldn’t, for the life of him, predict Lance’s reactions.

        He was nervous.  He was afraid.  Afraid of Lance.

        That was ludicrous.  What was wrong with him?  It was just Lance.

        Lance, the guy he was in love with.

        Joey had never been in love before.  If he had, it hadn’t been like this.  He wanted above all to make Lance happy, and he had the irrational idea that he could make Lance happier than anyone else could.  He had a crazy urge to be with Lance more often, which was stupid, because he saw Lance all of the time.  But all of the time wasn’t enough.  He wanted to spend his days with Lance, and know what Lance was doing, and know how Lance’s day had gone, and be a part of Lance’s life.  He wanted to spend his nights with Lance, too, dancing in clubs, or at home, naked, making love.

        He wanted to feel Lance up, get under Lance’s clothes, make Lance hot and flushed and aroused right up to the verge of orgasm.  Then he wanted to make Lance come.

        The door opened.  “What do you want?” Lance asked, sounding irritated.

        He hadn’t rung the bell.  He hadn’t knocked.  He knew that he hadn’t.

        “I was checking the locks before I went to bed, and I saw you out here.  What do you want?” Lance asked again.

        “Can I come in?” Joey asked.

        “I was on my way to bed,” Lance said.

        “You don’t go to bed this early,” Joey said.

        “Contrary to popular belief, you don’t know everything about me,” Lance said.

        “If you’re going to bed this early, it’s because you’ve had a bad day, you’re hurt, you can’t stand to be awake any longer.  It hurts so much that even going out clubbing won’t help you to forget.  You’re going to take a bath, to try to wash away your bad day, and then you’re going to get in bed with something to read, not work, nothing serious, something fluffy, like a magazine, or maybe old fan mail, if it was a really bad day.  You want to call home, or talk to one of us, but you don’t want to admit how upset you are, in case it looks like weakness, because you’ve worked hard to prove how competent you are.”  Joey paused.  “Should I keep going?”

        “No, you’ve made a big enough ass of yourself,” Lance said, giving Joey a dry, unimpressed eyebrow arch.  “Will you leave on your own or do I need to call someone?”

        “Let me in,” Joey said.  “There are things that I have to say to you that I don’t want to say on your front porch with you slamming the door in my face.”

        “Do you understand that I don’t want to talk to you?” Lance asked.  “That I don’t want to see you?  That I don’t want to be anywhere near you?”

        “Tell me something,” Joey said.  “Give me the right answer and I’ll leave.”

        “What,” Lance said flatly, his arms crossed over his chest.

        “Magazine or fan mail?”  He was taking a huge gamble.  Lance knew which answer would get him to leave.  He had to trust Lance to be honest with him, and he had no reason to do so.

        Lance looked down, then at Joey again.  “Fan mail.”

        Joey took over.  He crowded into the house, locking the door behind himself, setting the night security codes.  “Did you start the bathwater yet?” he asked, herding Lance down the hallway.

        “No,” Lance said, seeming vaguely surprised by this ambush.

        Joey took Lance into the bathroom, running the water in the tub, adding the hideously expensive bubble bath he’d bought Lance to replace the expensive one from AJ.  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

        In the kitchen, Joey made hot mint tea, guaranteed to soothe Lance’s nerves.  In the right-hand corner cupboard, behind the blender, inside a cookie jar, wrapped in foil and then in plastic, he found Swiss dark chocolate.  He broke off one square, then another, putting them on a plate.

        Back in the bathroom, Lance was in the tub.  He was dry from the neck up, and had yet to relax.  Joey put the tea and chocolate within his reach, and left again.

        For the most part, Lance’s bedroom was clean.  There were clothes on the floor, which Joey dropped into the hamper.  The bed hadn’t been made, so just for something to do, Joey stripped it and remade it with clean sheets.  As a rule, clean sheets smelled good, and that made for better sleep.

        Then Joey found a clean T-shirt and boxer-briefs for Lance to wear.  He took off his own sneakers and socks, tucking them into a corner.

        There was fan mail on the nightstand.  Joey picked it up, glancing through it.  It still amazed him how much the fans loved him, but it no longer amazed him how much they loved Lance.  It seemed only right.

        As Joey set the letters back down, Lance came into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist.  Joey went into the bathroom, gathering up Lance’s discarded clothes; when he returned to throw them into the hamper, Lance was wearing the T-shirt and underwear that Joey had set aside for him.

        “You look tired,” Joey said.  It was true.  Lance looked weary, suddenly.  Joey pulled aside the bedclothes in invitation.  “Get in.”

        Lance lay down warily.  Joey stripped to his boxer-briefs, picked up the fan mail, and lay down behind Lance, spooning up behind him.  Wrapping one arm around Lance to pull Lance back against his chest, Joey quietly read the fan mail aloud, until Lance fell asleep.

        Howie was too tense to be asleep.  Besides, Chris knew Howie’s sleep-breathing patterns, and this wasn’t one of them.  He wasn’t sure that Howie was breathing at all.

        Chris cleared his throat.

        The hand that Chris could see in the lamplight, in front of Howie’s face, up by the pillow, curled into a tight fist.

        Frightened, Chris mentally sounded a panicked retreat.  But he couldn’t run.  He couldn’t run because he couldn’t lose Howie.  He couldn’t lose Howie because if he lost Howie, he’d be broken into a million jagged pieces that could never be put together again.  He’d live, but not any kind of existence that he could bear, in comparison to the life he’d led with Howie.

        He had to do something.

        “I watched from a front row seat while JC and Justin tore each other apart.  They could do anything they wanted, to each other or to the rest of us, because they were in love.  They could rip each other apart, and then spit on us for trying to help, because it was okay, they were in love.  Not just regular love, it was true love.  They destroyed each other in the name of true love.”

        Was Howie’s fist slightly less tightly clenched?

        “You remember that comedian, Gallagher, he smashes watermelons onstage with a mallet, and anyone sitting in the front gets splattered with it?  It was like that.  I wasn’t just a witness to their drama, I was damaged by it.  JC and Justin used true love as an excuse for why it was permissible for them to hurt each other.  Brian believes in true love, but Brian identifies with JC too closely for my comfort.”

        Did Howie’s shoulders look more relaxed?

        Chris paused for breath.  “I’ve never seen true love in real life.  I’ve seen true divorce.  I’ve seen cheating and abuse and manipulation and deceit.  I’ve seen boredom.  The good couples break up.  The great couples are people like JC and Justin, who look amazing until you know what happens behind closed doors.  People use love.  If you loved me, you’d do this.  If you loved me, you’d stop that.  If that’s what love is like, what’s true love?”

        “True love is above that,” Howie said, rolling over and sitting up.  “True love transcends the lies and the pettiness.  True love is real love, Chris.  True love is good, and it lasts.  JC and Justin have problems.  You can’t apply their situation to anything.”

        “I love you,” Chris said.  “I’ve been unsure of things.  Unsure of how long you’ll find me interesting.  Unsure of when you’ll wake up and realize you’re with the wrong person.  But I’m learning.  I’m not as worried about that anymore, because I’ve seen how much you love me.  I’ve felt it.”

        “We’re nothing like JC and Justin,” Howie said.  “We’re not like AJ and Lance.  We’re just us.”

        “The more special JC and Justin thought their love was, the more they made each other suffer for it.”

        “We’re not JC and Justin,” Howie said.

        “What if we get punished for our hubris?”

        “We won’t be punished,” Howie said.  “Not for realizing what we have, and appreciating it.”

        “I love you,” Chris said.

        “You said that,” Howie said, and graced Chris with a smile.

        “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know what to say or how to explain.  You’re romantic, you believe in things.  I don’t.”

        “True love isn’t only for fairy tales,” Howie said.

        “Maybe it is,” Chris said, looking at Howie with new eyes.  “Maybe this is a fairy tale.  You’re a fairy tale.  My whole life is a fairy tale.  It started off shitty, got worse, and then things took an inexplicable turn.  Suddenly, I was blessed.  Now I’m rich, I’m famous, I have the best friends in the world, and I have my very own beautiful-perfect fairy tale prince.  You’re impossible, it’s impossible that I would end up here with you, but something magical happened, and here we are.”

        “True love,” Howie said.

        “True love,” Chris said, and kissed him.

        Since he hadn’t talked to Lance about it, and since there were several hours in Lance’s day that Joey couldn’t account for, Joey really didn’t know why Lance had had such a bad day.

        Except, he did know.  It had to do with him, and what had happened in Lance’s office.  He didn’t know why that would destroy Lance’s day, but it had.

        He wondered why.  Maybe Lance hadn’t wanted to have sex, and now harbored serious regrets.  Maybe Lance was as confused as he was.  Maybe he’d done something wrong; he wasn’t exactly experienced at guy-on-guy relationships, or guy-on-guy sex.

        Lance smelled good.  Clean.  Joey slipped his hand underneath Lance’s shirt, flattening his palm over Lance’s stomach.  He loved the feel of Lance’s skin.  He wanted to taste Lance.  He wanted-

        Hell, what was he going to do, molest Lance in Lance’s own bed?

        Always having a mind of its own, Joey’s dick stiffened happily at the idea.

        With one hand still covering Lance’s stomach, Joey unwrapped his other arm and lightly cupped Lance’s ass.  Full yet firm.  Joey squeezed gently, then slid his hand down Lance’s thigh, going past the hem of Lance’s boxer-briefs to feel muscle and flesh.

        Joey’s cock was getting harder by the second.

        The hand on Lance’s stomach began to slide down, down underneath the waistband of Lance’s underwear, down into Lance’s pubic hair, to cup Lance’s dick.  Already aroused, Lance’s dick hardened further in Joey’s hand.  Joey pulled Lance back against him, pressing his own hips forward to rub his dick against Lance’s ass.  God, that felt good.  Joey tried not to moan right in Lance’s ear.

        “Joey, what are you doing?” Lance asked, with that calm, superior tone that Joey loved.

        “Touching you,” Joey said, pulling Lance’s underwear down to Lance’s knees.  He slid his hands all over Lance’s hips, thighs, ass, cock, and balls, fascinated, aroused.  Wrapping one arm around Lance’s chest, to keep Lance close, he stroked Lance’s erection with his free hand, memorizing it by touch.

        Lance’s hips moved forward, leaving space between Joey’s dick and Lance’s ass.  Joey ached to press against Lance again, but if Lance didn’t want him there, he’d respect Lance’s wishes.

        Then there was a hand, Lance’s hand, reaching back.  Feeling over his thigh, finding the heat of his erection through his underwear.  Rubbing his dick, pulling on it, making him groan and jack Lance’s dick faster.  His precum began to wet the cotton, and his hips began to move, fucking Lance’s hand.  He was so hard, and he was so turned on, and he wanted Lance so badly, that he could feel orgasm building, building, building-

        Lance let go, withdrawing his hand.

        Joey was right there on the brink, and his dick was aching, and the dick in his hand was rock-hard, and his brain was confused but begging him to do something, so his right hand did a slow twisting squeeze up to the head with a thumb-flick guaranteed to incite orgasm.

        Lance came, tensing in Joey’s arms, spurting hot thick cum, letting out a quiet, low moan that made Joey’s precum flow.  God, Joey wanted him.

        Lance relaxed, pushing away Joey’s hands, rolling out of Joey’s embrace.  He pulled his underwear off entirely, then took off his T-shirt, used it to wipe the cum off of his chest, and dropped it to the floor.  Now with damning space between himself and Joey, Lance settled in to go back to sleep.

        Joey reached across that space and put his fingertips to the small of Lance’s back.  He touched it, the smooth warm skin.  He wanted to lick it, although he didn’t know why.

        Lance didn’t move.

        Joey ran his fingers a few inches up Lance’s spine, curious, wondering, then down to the cleft of Lance’s ass.  His erection throbbed.  He wanted to - - he put his lips to Lance’s bare shoulder, closing his eyes, pulling his dick out of his underwear.  Aching, wanting, jacking himself with a tight grip guaranteed to bring him quick release, Joey licked Lance’s shoulder blade, tasting salt and soap and skin and Lance.  He came, and was grateful that he finally could rid himself of this itching persistent desire to climb all over Lance.

        The problem was, the itch remained.

        Joey pressed a final kiss to Lance’s shoulder and rolled away, his back to Lance.  He took off his underwear, wiped up with it, and tossed it towards the rest of his clothes.  Sighing, frustrated and confused, he rolled onto his back, gazing heavenward.  Now what?

        Rustle of bedclothes as Lance shifted.

        Joey couldn’t help himself; he turned onto his side, facing Lance’s back.  He wanted to touch.  Taste.  Hold.  Love.  Please.  He moved closer, closer, closer, until Lance was in his arms and the itch was down to a nagging inclination.  It was then that Joey found the peace to sleep.

        His goatee looked better, too, although for the life of him, he could hardly tell what, exactly, Howie had done.  The changes Howie had made, both to his hair and his goatee, had been subtle.  That implied, to him, that Howie liked the way he looked, but after staring at him day after day, had figured out how to make him look even better than his incredibly hot usual self.

        Or else this was phase one of an extreme makeover, and by the time Howie was finished, he’d have blond hair and wear gold lame shirts.

        He could probably do his hair the way Howie had done it.  It did look good, he had to admit.  He could keep trimming his goatee this way, too.

        He was proud of himself, he decided, for wanting to do things because he liked them, not simply because Howie liked them.  Although the whole Howie-liking-it thing was a nice bonus.

        “Chris?” Howie’s voice asked.

        Chris turned off the light and went back to the bed, crawling in beside Howie.

        “Are you okay?” Howie asked, guiding him closer.

        “I’m fine,” Chris said, kissing Howie’s cheek.  “Go back to sleep.”

        “I’ve been waking up every ten minutes,” Howie said.

        “Really?” Chris asked.

        “Maybe I should just give up,” Howie said, meditatively rubbing Chris’s back.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

        “Maybe it’s because you were so upset,” Chris said.  “You don’t usually get that mad.  Maybe it’s still in there.”

        “No, I’m okay,” Howie said.

        “No,” Chris said.  “You’re not, are you?”  He tipped Howie’s chin to look into Howie’s eyes.

        “No,” Howie admitted.

        Chris embraced him.

        Howie’s thumb rubbed over the vertabrae at the top of Chris’ spine.

        “I’m sorry,” Chris said.  He knew what Howie was upset about, and it wasn’t their argument as a whole.  It was the marriage thing.  It was eating Howie up inside.  Stabbing him with killing pain.  Nothing Chris did would ever take that glimmer of regret from Howie’s eyes.  There would always be something missing from Howie’s life.

        “It’s okay,” Howie said.

        “It’s not okay, and it’s not going to be okay,” Chris said.

        “But it’s not going to change,” Howie said.  “I know that.  I accepted that the day we moved in here.”

        Chris’s stomach hurt.  “I told you someday,” he said.  “I promised.”

        “I know you did,” Howie said, and his voice was gentle and a little bit sad.  “You knew how much it hurt me, and you wanted to make it better.  You can’t stand hurting me.”

        God, that was true, he’d only said it to make Howie feel better.  He hadn’t meant it, and Howie knew that, and that made him feel even worse.  “I meant it,” Chris said.  “I promised you, and I meant it.”

        “Chris.”  Howie tightened his embrace.  “I don’t want you to feel guilty or obligated.  I told you, I’d rather never marry you at all, than feel like I’d pushed you into something you weren’t ready for.  Sometimes I thought you were almost ready, sometimes I thought you were close to asking.  But now I know that it’ll never happen, and I’ve accepted that.”

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

        “I know,” Howie said softly.  “Thank you.”

        Chris hurt.  He couldn’t hold Howie any tighter.  “Howie.  My love.”

        “Chris,” Howie whispered.  “My love.”

        If Chris had been a crying man, he would have cried.  If he’d been an eloquent man, he would have professed his love in tender, poetic terms.  But he wasn’t a crier, and he couldn’t find words.  He kissed Howie, and after a heartbreaking moment of hesitation, Howie kissed him back, and then they were making love, fitting their bodies together.  And somehow, buried in Howie’s body, with Howie’s hair fanned over the pillow, immersed in the greatest passion of his life while his heart beat Howie’s name, Chris found the words.  He found the words deep in the center of his being, and he spoke them with the truth of his soul, and maybe he wasn’t a crying man, but before he reached the end, his voice broke with emotion.

        And afterwards, with Howie asleep in his arms, Chris realized something, with a joyful clenching of his heart.  He knew it, with unshakable surety.

        He was going to marry Howie Dorough.

        “Brian.”

        “Hey, he’s my Brian, get your own.”

        “Learn to share.”

        Brian rolled over, finding a comfortable spot against Nick’s chest.

        “Stop gloating,” Drew muttered.

        “Brian.”  Nick tapped his forehead.  “Brian, wake up.  You have work and shit.”

        Brian wrapped his arm around Nick’s waist.

        “Drew, go make Brian breakfast,” Nick said.

        “Golden Grahams or Frosted Flakes?” Drew asked.

        “Ew, not Golden Grahams,” Nick said.  “Apple Jacks.”

        “Do we have Apple Jacks?” Drew asked.

        “No,” Nick said.  “Go buy some.”

        “Why,” Drew said slowly, “do I think you’re trying to get rid of me?”

        “I’m trying to get rid of you,” Nick said.

        “Aren’t you the one who’s always saying we should stop leaving you out of things, because we’re all in this together?” Drew asked.

        “Yes,” Nick said.  “Fine, whatever, you can stay, just be quiet.”

        “I really think you’re missing the point of having three people in one relationship,” Drew said.

        “I really think you’re not following instructions,” Nick said.

        Drew didn’t say anything, but Brian was sure his facial expression said plenty.

        Nick rolled Brian onto his back, lying on top of him.  “Hey, angel.  Good morning.”

        Brian opened his eyes and, just like on many, many other mornings, the first thing he saw was Nick’s face.  He smiled.  “Good morning.”

        “What do you want for breakfast?” Nick asked.

        Brian touched Nick’s nose.  “You.”

        Nick rubbed noses with him, a lock of soft blond hair falling forward onto Brian’s forehead.  Brian brushed Nick’s hair back, kissing his mouth.

        “Hey, greedy,” Nick chided, taking one of Brian’s hands and linking their fingers.  “What’s on today’s agenda?”

        “I’m going to make love with you all morning,” Brian said.  “Until ten, I’m meeting with the Fools then.  After that, I’m going to ask Nick if I can meet with him and Jeff, to apologize.”  He touched Nick’s face.  “Grovel.”

        “How do you feel about that?” Nick asked.

        “I’m concerned about it,” Brian said.  “Jeff has every right to tell me to go to hell.  I hope that for Drew’s sake, and yours, they’ll accept my apology, but since I wasn’t that mature, they don’t have to be.”

        “Do you want me to be there?” Nick asked.

        “No,” Brian said.  “I’d use you as a crutch.  And if you’re there, we may not have the honest conversation we need to have.”

        “You mean, the honest fight.”

        “Yes.”

        “They’re going to accept your apology,” Nick said.  “If they don’t, that’s their bad, and we’ll work on it.  But you, I’m very proud of you, and I love you, and whatever they say, that won’t change.”

        “I love you,” Brian said, and kissed him.

        “Do you want to make love to me?” Nick asked.

        Brian looked into Nick’s eyes and saw the beauty, youth, and trust that he’d fallen in love with years ago.  Nick was older now, more experienced in life, more experienced in love.  But some things never changed, and Brian knew that Nick’s love for him was one of them.  For his part, Brian loved Nick so much that he could feel it physically, and at that moment, it swept over him, lifting his spirit from him, gracing Nick with it.  “Yes,” he said, and touched Nick’s face.  “Yes.”

        Justin knew, from considerable personal experience, that he tended to become insatiable.  JC had several tricks for calming him down, when that happened.

        When JC was insatiable, it was a whole different story.  Justin had never seen JC be insatiable.  Not like last night.  Justin was sure that his dick was rubbed raw.  He’d never get hard again.

        He wanted to roll over, but that would require too much effort.  He couldn’t even muster the energy to moan.  He had yet to open his eyes.  However, he could hear, and what he heard was JC bouncing around the room, singing.

        Justin felt like he’d fucked for ten hours and slept for ten minutes, and JC was singing?

        That was just obnoxious.

        “Good morning, baby,” JC said, climbing onto the bed, kissing his back, his shoulder, his temple.  “Good morning.  Can you get in the shower while I go make breakfast?  You don’t have to come with me today if you don’t want to.  I was thinking you could get started on the house today.  What do you think?”

        Way too much energy.  Justin moaned.

        “We’re going to need decorators.  It’s going to take so long, maybe we could set up a few temporary rooms to live in while we decorate.”

        Justin’s few working brain cells thought that JC had a good idea, there.

        “I want lots of different kinds of rooms. I want classy rooms and blingin’ rooms and a few down-home natural rooms for my Tennessee baby.  I want to look around again and decide which rooms would be best for setting up a studio.  I wanted to see if we could add a basketball court, either by renovating existing rooms or maybe adding on to the house.  I wish you’d seen more of the inside.  How big do you want the master bedroom to be?  I want it to have a fireplace, but most of the rooms already do.”

        Justin had to make it stop.  “C,” he said, eyes still closed.

        “Justin?” JC asked.

        “You’re at a ten.  I need you at about zero point five.”

        JC laughed, kissed Justin’s cheek, and proceeded to bounce and sing his way downstairs, leaving Justin in peace.

        Joey kissed Lance’s neck, pushing Lance to lay flat on his back.  He licked at Lance’s blond stubble, because that was a new thing, a Lance thing, and he wanted to experience Lance to the fullest.

        Here Lance was warm, and over here were a few beads of sweat, and here was a nipple, small and pretty, hard against Joey’s tongue.  Here, hmm, another nipple, as intriguing as the first.  Joey wanted to try his teeth on it, but resisted the urge.  Maybe later.

        Navel.  Joey tested it, licking into it, sucking the skin around it, fascinated with how flat and hard Lance’s body was, in comparison to the soft curves he was used to.

        Now that he was down by Lance’s navel, he was also nearing Lance’s erect cock.  It was fully hard, and the shiny, smooth head captured his attention.  He wondered what it would feel like against the flat of his tongue.  He wondered what he had to do to get precum to come out, and what it might taste like.  He stared in wonder.

        Lance had good thighs, strong healthy thighs, and Joey squeezed one, gently testing.  Then he stroked Lance’s inner thighs, spreading them apart, to get a better look at what was between them.

        Joey had sampled a good cross-section of the world’s female population, enough to know that most women didn’t like men’s balls, and tended to avoid them.  He could understand why his own big hairy balls weren’t what a woman might find sexy.  But Lance’s were a little smaller, and Lance’s hair was lighter, finer, and Joey gave in to the irresistible urge to touch.  He stroked them, gently, then cupped them in his hand, struggling with a new urge to put his mouth to them.  He wondered what they’d feel like against his tongue, or in his mouth.  Disturbing himself, he withdrew his hand and forced himself to move on.

        Joey raised Lance’s knees, tilting Lance’s hips, and pressed one fingertip to the small pucker of Lance’s asshole.  He still didn’t know what the big thrill would be with having some guy’s dick down his throat, but this thrill, he understood.  Joey’s dick had been some interesting places, but nothing had ever felt as good as being locked deep inside the constricting muscles of Lance’s ass.

        He didn’t know whether that was because he liked ass, or because he liked Lance, or both.

        Joey pushed his finger inside Lance, as far as he could, switching from a closed fist to an open palm in case it would let him in farther.  His dick was excited, and he wanted to climb on top of Lance and shove his dick in, and he was wondering where the lube might be, but he was also fully aware that he didn’t have the right to assume he was allowed to jump on Lance any time he wanted.

        In fact, even though he knew Lance was awake, and had been awake pretty much since he’d kissed Lance’s neck and rolled Lance over, he had yet to meet Lance’s eyes.  He didn’t want to know what Lance was thinking, because the odds that Lance wanted him as badly as he wanted Lance weren’t very good.  Lance was probably tolerating this out of pity, or interested only in sex and not in anything emotional, or pissed as hell and about to kick him in the balls.

        Joey popped his finger out and lowered Lance’s legs.  He crawled up Lance’s body, training his eyes on Lance’s chin, Lance’s mouth.  He waited for Lance to say something, because hearing Lance’s mood was better than seeing anger or repulsion in Lance’s eyes.

        “Joey,” Lance said.  “Was that foreplay or a physical exam?”

        Joey laughed.  He couldn’t help it.  “I’m not very good at this,” he admitted, meeting Lance’s eyes.

        Lance looked amused.  Happy, even.  It was rare to see Lance honestly happy these days.  “You’re very good at this,” Lance said, and his voice was in his private moment register, dark and sexual, stroking Joey’s dick.  “It’s just new to you.”

        “Tell me if I do something wrong,” Joey said.

        “Joey, you’re doing something wrong,” Lance said.

        “What?” Joey asked, worried.

        Lance smiled.  “You’re supposed to be kissing me.”

        It was too good to be true, too good to be real.  Lance was playing games with him, and he knew that, and he was going to hate himself for falling for it as soon as it was over.  But in that moment, Joey dove into the fantasy headfirst.

        He loved Lance, he truly deep in his heart was in love with Lance, and when they kissed, he knew it.  That was why he moaned and kissed Lance harder, thrusting his tongue against Lance’s.  His hands roamed, still learning, still fascinated.  Lance did like having his nipples teased, and did like having his ass groped, but when Joey ventured too close to Lance’s asshole, Lance bit his lower lip in warning, and Joey’s hands retreated.  Joey made a mental note not to try to finger-fuck Lance when they were just kissing.  At least, not for another two minutes.

        When he tried to find a good place to rest himself, he ended up with his dick right beside Lance’s, and the feel of Lance’s sensitive hard heat throbbing against his own made him groan and rock his hips.  He wanted to get off, he wanted to fuck Lance, he wanted to come.  Joey broke off their kiss, panting.  “What can I do, what can I have?”

        Lance looked different.  His face was flushed, his lips were red from Joey’s kisses, and his eyes, his eyes were bright, bright with…with…

        “Anything,” Lance said breathlessly, “anything you want.”

        Joey kissed him, too roughly, and Lance moaned, drawing his knees up.  “I want to fuck you,” Joey said, rocking against Lance’s body.  “I want to fuck you.”

        “Nightstand,” Lance said, and somewhere in Joey’s mind he knew what that meant, so he forced himself to break away from Lance’s kiss to stretch across the bed to the nightstand.  He jerked the drawer open and fumbled around, coming up with a little bottle.  He returned to Lance’s arms, to Lance’s kiss, because even though he still had a raging hard-on, there was something uniquely satisfying about making out with Lance, about the way their kisses felt.

        His hand was pried from Lance’s thigh, and something cool and wet was put on his fingers.  He rubbed his fingers together, then took the hint and put his fingers to Lance’s ass, pushing one finger in.

        Joey wasn’t so sure about this part.  He suspected that he was supposed to be doing something to make it more interesting, but he didn’t know what.  He’d have to ask.  Lance was moaning and sucking on his tongue, though, so maybe he was doing an okay job.  All of a sudden Lance jerked and almost bit his tongue, which either meant he’d done something really good or really bad.  But Lance was saying, “Fuck me, fuck me,” in a voice that practically summoned Joey’s dick.  He pulled his finger out and remembered to lube his dick up, although he was so hard he was already leaking precum like crazy.

        Lance had stopped kissing Joey and was pulling on his own erection, and the sight of that almost warped Joey’s brain.  “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck - - oh god, Joey, god, yes, ah…”  Joey slammed in and almost screamed at the overwhelming unbearable perfect tight hot throbbing oh god.  Beneath him, Lance was coming, and the sight of it, the feel of it, made Joey want to oh god, oh god, he couldn’t, he wasn’t, he fought it back but it overcame him and oh!  Joey came, groaning with relief and regret, feeling it all the way to the ends of his fingernails.

        God, Lance was going to be the death of him.

        Joey pulled his dick out, dribbling little afterbursts of cum on Lance’s thigh.  He wanted to lick it up, not because he had any interest in tasting his own jism, but because Lance’s thigh looked so…edible…

        Lance stretched.

        Joey’s mouth watered.

        Lance relaxed his legs, running his fingers through Joey’s hair, along Joey’s jaw.  “Hey,” he said softly.

        “Hi,” Joey said.  He hadn’t felt this warm of an afterglow in a long time.  Joey enjoyed sex to the fullest, and it always felt incredible, physically, but the emotionally satisfying parts of it had drained away, until today.  Maybe that was because a part of him, even a small part, had known that he’d been having sex with the wrong people.  People who weren’t Lance, and could never compare to Lance, at least not in Joey’s heart.

        Lance kissed him, a soft kiss.

        Joey wanted to fuck him again.

        “I have to go to work,” Lance said.

        “I usually have more stamina than that,” Joey said.

        Lance laughed.  “I know that, Joey.”

        “I don’t-”

        “I know, Joey.”  Lance smiled.  “It’s okay.  I’ve roomed beside you enough times to know how long into the night you can go.”

        Joey grinned.  “Pretty impressive, huh?”

        Lance scratched his chest.  “Very.”

        Joey didn’t want to leave.  Ever.  “So that hint about you needing to go?”

        “It’s still in effect,” Lance said.

        “Can we do this again sometime?”  He kept his voice light, but his heart was in his throat, and he knew Lance knew him well enough to know that.

        “I wouldn’t mind,” Lance said, and tugged on Joey’s nipple, which felt so fucking good, Joey thought there had to be more to how he experienced pleasure than mere physical stimuli.  The fact that he was spinning neck-deep in love with Lance probably factored in there somehow.

        “Can I come over tonight?” Joey asked.

        “Sure,” Lance said.  “I’ll be here.”

        Joey kissed him.  He was being used, he was being manipulated, he was in over his head and he knew it, and when he came back that night there was no telling who Lance would be, which meant that he might never, ever, have this again.  He kissed Lance with all of his lust, all of his love, all of his desire.

        After another minute, Lance’s hand on his chest pushed him away.  “I really have to go,” Lance said.  “Jenna’s calling this morning, and I’ve been trying to track her down for two weeks.”

        It might have been true, or it might not have.  It didn’t matter.  All that mattered to Joey was the soft press of Lance’s lips, and the fact that Lance was leaving the bed.  He’d never realized that being in love would feel this wonderful, or hurt this painfully.