Copyright April 2, 2002-March 29, 2004 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.

        Justin didn’t like that.  Lance had been a bad friend to him, yes; in fact, Lance hadn’t been a friend at all, lately.  He even would have thought of Lance as his enemy there for a while, if he were capable of seeing Lance in that light.  But he hadn’t been much of a friend to Lance, either, and for a longer period of time.  Had he been a better friend to Lance, Lance would have remained a friend to him.  Justin honestly believed that, and therefore he was willing to work on repairing their relationship.

        He hadn’t been there for Lance.  He hadn’t been there for anyone, for a while.  He hadn’t even been there for JC.

        It was time for those things to change.  He was going to be there for JC through every joy and every pain and every everything.  He was going to be there for his friends, too.

        He crawled to the foot of the bed, reached out as far as he could stretch, and hooked his fingers around the strap of JC’s bag.  He slid it forward along the carpet, bringing it closer, then reached inside and found JC’s notebook.  He settled down with it, on one side, back to back with JC.

        He found the songs that JC had written for him, the ones he hadn’t been allowed to read.  He wanted to see them again.  He also wanted to find out who was singing which part of them.

        In JC’s other songs, all of JC’s regular songs, like the ones on their albums, JC’s love for him shone through.  It was there in each line.  In these songs, it didn’t shine.  It burned.  It throbbed.  It bled.  It was screaming with agony and moaning with eroticism and weeping at the pure beauty of it all.  This was as close as the pop world could get to JC uncensored.

        JC had written these songs for himself.  Regardless, they were about Justin, and JC writing them, sharing them, was still viewed as a gift.  A gift of love.  Justin wanted to do something for JC, too.

        Or, something with JC.  They were never together anymore, and even though he was trying to stay busy, he missed JC.  If he was going to be working on the house every day, he wanted the house to be a JC place.  Maybe it was time to move in.  He knew that JC wanted to get back to a place of their own, a JC-and-Justin place, a home that was all theirs.  A place that celebrated their relationship and housed their love.

        JC rolled over, one arm snaking around his waist, JC’s chest warm at his back, JC’s erection pressed intimately to his ass.  Justin’s dick hardened in quick response.

        “Good morning, baby.”  JC’s hand rubbed his stomach; JC kissed his ear.  “What do you want to do today?”

        “Pack,” Justin said.

        “Pack?” JC asked, stroking his chest, voice warm and inquisitive.

        “Pack this stuff up and go home.  Go home and set up our new bedroom and make love, and make love, and make love, and make love,” Justin said.

        “Baby,” JC said, his voice soft with love.  “You want to move in today.”

        “The house isn’t ready, but I don’t want to wait,” Justin said.  “We can live in it while we work on it.  I want us to be there together.”

        “Justin.”  JC’s hand cupped Justin’s chin, tilting it back, and leaned forward to kiss his mouth.  Justin found himself rolling gradually onto his back, JC sliding on top of him, as they kissed.  “Justin, baby, yes, I want to be there with you,” JC said, gazing at him.  Justin touched JC’s cheek, touched JC’s smile.  “I want a home with you, our home.  I think we’re ready.”

        “I know we’re ready,” Justin said.  “We can do this, JC.”

        “Alone?” JC asked.  “Unsupervised?”

        “We’re alone now,” Justin said.  “Joey’s never here.”

        “Our home,” JC said.  “Our home, Justin.  Our new home for our new life.”

        “We’ll fill it with good memories,” Justin promised, his fingers in JC’s hair.  “Good moments.  A lot of love.”  He kissed JC and whispered, “A lot of sex.”

        “Don’t tease me, baby,” JC said.  “That’s a slippery slope.”

        “We can handle it,” Justin said.  “Together.”

        JC kissed him, gently tongue-fucking his mouth.  Justin moaned, imagining making love all over every inch of their new house.  “Let’s not make love right now, baby,” JC said.

        Justin’s eyes opened.  “What?”

        “I want to wait until we’re home,” JC said.  “I want to make love to you there.”

        “We can do both,” Justin said.  “I think you know I’m capable of having sex twice in one day.”

        “I want it to be special,” JC said.

        “JC, when is sex between us not special?” Justin asked.  “We’ve been doing this five times a day for years, and it’s special every single time.”

        JC kissed him and got up, leaving the bed.

        “We made love on the night before our wedding,” Justin said.  “We made love the morning before our wedding.”  He watched JC’s naked back.  “Maybe I should just make love to myself, then.”

        JC turned swiftly, pinning Justin’s body with a hot, possessive stare.

        “Whoa,” Justin said, sitting up.  “I never said I’d let you watch.”

        JC took a few steps forward, intending to placate him, to talk him into it with words and touch.  Then JC hesitated, and looked at him.

        “What, it was worth a shot,” Justin said.

        “When we get home,” JC said, and went to the bathroom.

        Justin sighed.  “I never get laid anymore.  I’m reporting you to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Justin Timberlake!”

        “Timberlake Chasez,” JC called back.

        “You’d better make it good!” Justin threatened.

        JC came to the bathroom doorway and just stood there, looking at him.  Utterly naked, completely JC.

        Justin grinned.  Yeah, like he’d ever had to worry about that.  “Never mind.”

        Howie was beside him, touching his ear, making him shivery.  “What are you doing today?”

        Uh-oh.  “Today?” Chris asked, gaze still on the ceiling.  “Doing today?  Going to the studio.”

        Howie’s voice was a shade too calm on, “You are?”

        Alert, alert, Howie knew they were off today.  AJ or Brian must have told him.  Stupid idiots.  “Of course I am.  Lots of work to do.  Can’t miss it.  Knock knock.”  Now there was a desperate and transparent way to misdirect attention.  He really had to examine his tendencies to escape through humor.  Later.

        Howie sounded suspicious, with good reason.  “Who’s there?”

        “Amos,” Chris said, going with the first one he remembered.

        “Amos who?”

        “Amos-quito bit me.”

        “Chris-”

        “Knock knock.”

        Howie rested his forehead on Chris’s shoulder and sighed.  “Who’s there?”

        “Andy.”

        “Andy who?”  Howie was a good, good, good sport; Chris wanted to kiss him for it.

        “Andy bit me again.”  Chris escaped the bed, going into the bathroom.

        It turned out not to be much of a reprieve; a few minutes later, Howie was there in the doorway, wearing a robe, running his fingers through his hair.  “Chris.”

        “Knock knock,” Chris said.

        “Who’s there?” Howie asked with infinite patience.

        “Butch.”

        “Butch who?”

        “Butch your arms around me,” Chris said, crooking a finger and raising an eyebrow.

        Howie answered the invitation, coming closer and putting his arms around Chris.  “I-”

        “Knock knock,” Chris said.

        “Who’s there?” Howie asked, giving in and smiling.

        “Jimmy.”

        “Jimmy who?” Howie asked.

        “Butch yours arms around me and Jimmy a little kiss.”

        Howie kissed him.  “I hope you have a good time today.”  Another kiss.  “Knock knock.”

        Chris felt a huge smile break across his face.  Howie was not only tolerating his ridiculousness, Howie was playing with him.  Playing with him!  He loved Howie.  “Who’s there?”

        “Olive.”

        On anyone else, that would have been cheesey, but on Howie, it was adorable.  Chris squeezed him a little.  “Olive who?”

        “I love you.”  Another kiss.  “Now hurry up, because you’re about to be late.”

        Chris almost asked, “Late for what?” until he remembered that he was supposed to be going to the studio today.  Of course he wasn’t going to the studio, and of course Howie knew that, but Howie was going along with it, for his sake.  Howie was so nice, and so trusting, that Chris had to kiss him again.

        Lance was naked, wrapped in a blanket, curled up on the sofa, watching TV.  Watching Joey’s tour video.  Watching Brian.

        Joey sat beside him.

        Lance sighed, shifting to rest his head on Joey’s shoulder.  “I think I hate him.”

        “Why?” Joey asked.

        “Because everyone thinks he’s so damned perfect.”

        “He’s not perfect,” Joey said.

        “Name one flaw,” Lance said.

        Joey thought about it.  Thought about it.  Hmm.  Thought about it.  Oh!  “He’s not the best dancer I’ve seen.”

        “He’s better than I am,” Lance said.

        “No one’s a better dancer than you are,” Joey said.

        Lance kissed his cheek.  “It’s pathetic when you lie.”

        “He’s, well, he’s…  He’s a Backstreet Boy,” Joey said.

        “That’s all you can come up with?” Lance asked.

        “That’s a big hurdle,” Joey said.

        “I hate perfect people,” Lance said.  “Brian.  Justin.”

        “JC?” Joey asked.

        “JC’s more perfect than either of them, but he doesn’t know he’s perfect,” Lance said.

        “Which is why we all love him,” Joey said.

        “Which is why,” Lance agreed.

        Joey smiled.  “Going to talk to Brian today?”

        “He is perfect, isn’t he?” Lance asked.

        “Who?” Joey asked.

        “Brian,” Lance said.  “He really is.”

        “When you really get to know him, he’s probably not.  No one is.”

        “But you think he is,” Lance said.

        “He has handcuffs in his suitcase,” Joey said, wishing he could convey what that fact had done to him.

        “So do you,” Lance said.

        “But this is Brian,” Joey explained.  “With handcuffs, covered in butter-soft leather.”

        “Leather handcuffs,” Lance said.  “Brian Littrell?”

        “Is a kinkmeister,” Joey said.

        “You think he uses them on Nick?” Lance asked.

        “I think he does, and I think I’d like to watch,” Joey said.

        “This is a whole new dimension to the man,” Lance said.

        “It makes him more human?” Joey asked.

        “It makes him more sexy,” Lance said.

        “He was already sexy.”

        “You like good boys,” Lance said.

        “I like good boys who are secretly very, very naughty,” Joey said, slipping a hand under Lance’s blanket.

        Lance laughed.  “Is that a hint?”

        “Be naughty with me,” Joey said, squeezing Lance’s ass, kissing Lance’s mouth.  “Let me fuck you.”

        Kevin opened his eyes, focusing them on AJ, who was standing by the bed dressed in chaps, a vest, boots, and a cowboy hat.  This had to be an alternate reality.  “AJ?”

        “Come on, let’s go.  Out of bed, in the car,” AJ said.

        “You’re taking me to a rodeo?” Kevin asked, sitting up.

        “No,” AJ said.

        “A gay rodeo?” Kevin guessed.

        “Come on.  We’re picking up breakfast on the way.”

        “On the way to what?” Kevin asked.

        “The airport,” AJ said.  “Let’s go.”

        “AJ!”  Kevin reached off of the bed and caught hold of AJ’s wrist, dragging him onto the bed.  “What are you up to?”

        AJ moved into Kevin’s personal space, dropping his voice into husky, intimate seduction.  “It’s a private plane, but it’ll probably be too small for you to fuck me without the pilot watching.  If you want me you’ll have to wait until we’re there.”

        “If I want you?” Kevin repeated, opening AJ’s vest, ducking his head to lick at a small, pink nipple.  If he wanted AJ?  Having AJ was more important to him than having air.  He pushed AJ back and down, sucking at AJ’s other nipple.  “Take your pants off.”

        “We can’t be late for this,” AJ said, arching beneath him.

        He kissed down to AJ’s stomach, licking muscle definition.  “Off,” he insisted, wanting AJ to do it for him, to consent.

        “Kevin,” AJ said.  “You know I want this, I hate leaving the house without it.  But we have to go.  It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

        He looked at AJ, spread before him, legs parted, hat off, vest open, eyes gorgeous and asking.  He licked his lips, deliberating.  “Okay.  But when we get back…”

        “Absolutely,” AJ said, sitting up.  “And while we’re there.  I swear to you, you’ll want to fuck me on the spot.”

        Kevin smiled.  That sounded promising.  “Exactly where are we going?”

        “Have to come with me to find out,” AJ said, getting up from the bed.

        “You’re sure it’s not a gay rodeo?”

        “Do you want me to change clothes?” AJ asked.

        “If you expect me not to molest you on the plane, or in the car on the way to the airport, changing clothes might be in your best interests,” Kevin said.

        “I’ll change,” AJ said.

        “But if you want to wear it later tonight…”

        AJ’s eyes betrayed his amusement.  “Get in the shower.”

        “We’re getting matching tuxes, just for the wedding,” Brian said.

        “The one you have is old,” Drew said.  “This will be a new one, tailored specifically to your body’s current contours.”

        “Get your eyes off my contours,” Nick said.

        “But they’re such nice contours,” Drew said.

        “Why is everybody always ogling my ass?” Nick asked Brian.

        “I don’t know,” Brian said.  “Take off your pants and let me see it.”

        Nick glared at Brian, then sat on one of the kitchen chairs.

        His view obscured, Drew sighed and went back to eating.

        “I don’t want a new tux,” Nick said.  “I hate having to stand still and get measured.  Doesn’t somebody already have our measurements on file somewhere?  Can’t they just use those?”

        “Don’t you want to watch them measure Drew?” Brian asked.

        Nick grinned.  “Can I do the inseam?”

        The doorbell rang.  “Excuse me,” Drew said, getting up and leaving the room.  Going to the front door, he used the peephole.  He breathed in, breathed out, and walked back to the kitchen.  “Lance is at our front door.”

        “What does he want?” Nick asked.

        “I don’t want him at our door,” Drew said.  “I don’t want him in our house.”

        “You left him out there?” Brian asked.

        “I don’t want him in our house,” Drew repeated, putting force in his voice.

        “Sweetheart, I understand that, but-”

        “I don’t think you do,” Drew said.  “He insulted you.  He showed a complete lack of respect for you.  He hit you.  He threatened you.  He used the most personal, private information he could against you, against us!  He knows nothing about our relationship!  He knows nothing about us!  What he said to you, what he said about you, what he said about Nick, what he dared to comment on - - when I have to see him, in public, I will hold back and keep my mouth shut.  But I do not want to see him in my house.  I haven’t hit him out of respect for you, but he is on our front porch ringing our doorbell like he has any right to come around here!”

        “You don’t hit people,” Nick said.

        “I’m going to,” Drew said.

        “We agreed not to react,” Brian said.  “It would only prove him right.  We can’t give him the satisfaction.”

        “You’re not letting him in our house,” Drew said.

        “I’d like to find out what he wants,” Brian said.

        “It doesn’t matter,” Nick said.  “Let him leave.”

        “I don’t like Lance any more than either of you,” Brian said.  “There are a lot of things that I’d like to say to him, that I can’t.  But we’re going to run into him, which means we have to deal with him.”

        “He’s probably coming to the wedding,” Nick said.

        “It’s not like you to hold onto anger,” Brian said to Drew.

        “I wasn’t there,” Drew said.  “I couldn’t react when it happened, and I’ve never gotten to respond.  By the time I finally saw him, I’d lost my chance.  I hate what he did to you.  I hate what he said to you.  I hate how much he scared us.  I hated feeling that vulnerable and that afraid.  I hated that my actions have ended up being a threat to the people I love.”

        “They weren’t only your actions,” Brian said, putting his hand on Drew’s arm.  “We’re in this together.”

        “Open the door, knock him out, and close the door,” Nick suggested.

        “Let me go see what he wants,” Brian said.  “If he’s even still there.  You and Nick don’t have to see him.”

        “He can’t have anything to say to you,” Drew said.

        “I can’t let him think that he ever got to us,” Brian said.  “This isn’t about him, this is about protecting us.”

        “Protecting me,” Drew said for him.

        “We’re in this together,” Brian repeated.

        The doorbell rang.

        “I love you,” Brian said, looking into his eyes.  “I love you, and I will never let anyone hurt you.”

        “Go,” Drew said.  “Do whatever you think is best.”

        Brian kissed him and went to the front door.

        “When Brian lets him in, let’s run around and key his car,” Nick said.

        Brian opened the door.  “Lance, Joey.  Sorry about that.”

        “Can we come in?” Joey asked.

        “Yeah,” Brian said.  “What’s going on?”

        “I wanted to talk to you,” Lance said, stepping into the house.  “I want to be honest about this, in case you hear something about it later.  I’m here because JC asked me to.  But it’s not just that.  If I don’t talk to you, I’m never going to be able to look at myself in the mirror and be happy with the person looking back.”

        “This sounds serious,” Brian said.  “What do you want to talk to me about?”

        “I’ve been an asshole,” Lance said.  “I’ve been mean, without reason, to a lot of people.  Including you.  Especially you.  I can make up excuses for how I’ve treated other people, but I can’t even pretend to have an excuse for how I’ve treated you.  All I can say is, from my own insecurity, I was angry, I was resentful, I was jealous, and I was threatened.”

        “Threatened by me?” Brian asked.

        “My friends weren’t my friends anymore,” Lance said.  “But everyone loved you.  Justin and Joey were tripping all over themselves trying to get to you.  No one even wanted to be around me anymore.  JC was working with you.  He hadn’t even asked Justin to be in the group, but he wanted you as his partner.  You were so damned special all of a sudden.”

        “I wasn’t trying to take over anything,” Brian said.

        “You’re…  This is so hard for me to say,” Lance said, trying to get the words out.  “You’re a great guy.  You’re a terrific person.  There’s a reason everyone likes you.  There are a lot of reasons.  You’re talented and you’re creative and you’re silly and you’re fun and you’re ethical and you stand up for what you believe in and you’re amazing to look at.  JC wants to meld with you and Justin looks up to you and Joey wants to have your baby, and even if they didn’t feel that way…  I respect you,” Lance said.  “I have a lot of respect for you.”

        “To be honest, I haven’t felt that respect,” Brian said.

        “I know,” Lance said.  “That’s where I…  I’m sorry.  I’ve been wrong,  I’ve said horrible things to you, and I’m sorry for every word.  I’m sorry for what I’ve said, what I’ve done, all of it.  I never should have hit you.  I’m sorry.  I’ve done a lot of things to different people, but the way I’ve treated you has been the worst.”  He hesitated.  “JC wants me to get your forgiveness, but I can’t ask for that.  I wouldn’t in good conscience be able to ask it, not today, because I haven’t given you any reason to forgive me.”

        “That’s true,” Brian said.  “But I believe that forgiveness does greater good when it’s given with mercy, before it’s proven justified.  I don’t believe in you, but I believe in Joey, and I’m counting on him to have a great impact on your life.”

        “He has,” Lance said.

        “I don’t want to forgive you,” Brian said.  “In my heart, it’ll be hard.  But I’ve been shown great forgiveness, and I want to give that forgiveness back.  So I will forgive you, Lance, and I’ll ask God to help us both on the right path.”

        “Thank you,” Lance said.

        “Thank you,” Joey said, and hugged Brian.  “He really is sorry.”

        “Joey,” Lance said.

        “I know when he’s being manipulative and when he’s being sincere,” Joey said.  “When he is being manipulative, I always fall for it, but I can tell he’s doing it.  He’s being sincere right now.  He really is sorry.”

        “Joey,” Lance said, more sharply.

        “No one can tell,” Joey told Lance.  “Everyone’s used to you being full of it.”

        “You’re not helping,” Lance said.

        “He is helping,” Brian said.  “I do believe that you are sincere,” he told Lance.  “Thank you for your apology.”

        “Thank you,” Lance said.

        Brian opened the door for them, and they left.  He closed the door, turning.

        “What the fuck was that?” Nick asked.

        “You trust him?” Drew asked.

        “I don’t trust him,” Brian said.  “I believe that he is sorry.”

        “He apologized?” Nick asked.  “Has he been pulling more shit you haven’t told us about?”

        “It’s nothing serious,” Brian said.

        Drew was furious.  “He-”

        “It’s nothing serious,” Brian repeated.

        “I don’t like him,” Nick said.  “I’m not mad at you, but I still want to hate him.”

        “Are you mad at me?” Brian asked Drew.

        “Would it make a difference if I were?” Drew asked.

        “Yes, it would, but it wouldn’t change what I’ve said or done,” Brian said.

        “I’m not mad at you,” Drew said.  “You’re a better, stronger person than I am.  Excuse me.”  He went upstairs.

        Nick sighed, hugging Brian.  “He’s not mad at you.”

        “I have to forgive Lance,” Brian said.  “You’ve forgiven me.  I can’t ask you to forgive me or your parents or anyone else, if I can’t forgive.”

        “Of course I forgave you,” Nick said.  “You can’t compare that.”

        “Am I betraying Drew by forgiving Lance?” Brian asked.

        “You’d be betraying yourself if you didn’t forgive,” Nick said.  “Drew knows that.  He wouldn’t want you to refuse forgiveness to someone asking for it.”

        “Lance won’t change if no one shows him kindness,” Brian said.

        “You don’t have to change the world,” Nick said.

        “I have to do my little part,” Brian said.  “We all do.”

        A minute later, Howie responded with, Who’s there?

        Chris sent back, Eyesore.

         Howie asked, Eyesore who?

        Chris sent, Eyesore do like you.

        To Chris’s immeasurable pleasure, Howie sent back, Eyesore do like you, too.

        Chris’s friends would play around with him, joking and being silly.  His girlfriends would tolerate it, or play back for a few minutes, but they never really got into it.  He was excited that Howie was willing to give in and have fun with him.  How could he not be in love with someone who was willing to be silly with him?

        His phone rang.  It wasn’t Howie, which was a shame, but it was Justin.  “Hello.”

        “Hey, come help us with something.”

        “With what?” he asked, checking his watch.  If it was quick…

        “We’re moving into our new house, and none of the furniture is anywhere near the right rooms.  It’s all heaped together downstairs, and we have to decide where everything goes.  Come help us carry stuff upstairs.”

        That would be an all-day activity.  “Sorry, I can’t.”

        “You’re off today.”

        Chris was irked.  Yes, in fact, he was off, and that meant that he could spend his time however he damn chose.  If he wanted to spend his day off picking sock fuzz from between his toes, then he could.  “I’m busy.”

        “Can you come over for a few hours?”

        Chris decided to bring up the obvious.  “Hire movers.”

        “You had Joey and Kevin move your stuff.”

        “I have to go,” Chris said.  “Ask someone else.  And when you do, try saying ‘please.’”  He hung up, shaking off his irritation.  “Do you believe these people?” he asked the man sitting beside him.  His phone rang.  “What now?”

        “I’m an idiot,” Justin said.

        “Hi, idiot.”

        “I’m sorry, Chris, just forget I ever acted like that.  Total relapse.”

        “I’m over it,” Chris said.  “You’re moving in?”

        “Yeah.  I’m trying to get it done as fast as possible, because JC won’t make love to me until we’re done.”

        “Whoa,” Chris said.  No wonder Justin was trying to round up help.  “Hire movers, right now.”

        “We’re moving into our new house, it’s like starting our new life, officially.  I’m telling JC everything’s going to be okay, but I’m worried we’ll start regressing.  He’s not talking to Lance, and without Lance it’s not fair to invite Joey, so I was hoping…  But you’re busy, and I get that, I do, I respect it.  I just wanted you to know why I was an idiot.”

        “You’re not an idiot,” Chris said.  “You and JC are going to be fine.  And do something about Lance and JC.  It would be nice if we were all friends again for five minutes.”

        “I’m working on it,” Justin said.  “So what are you doing today?”

        “Something nice for Howie,” Chris said.  “I’ll come over to see you guys tomorrow.”

        “You know the wedding’s tomorrow,” Justin said.

        “So after the wedding,” Chris said.

        “We’ll be making love after the wedding,” Justin said.

        “You’re a very special couple.”

        Justin laughed.  “Have a good day off.”

        “Thanks.  Congratulations on the move.  Bye.”

        “Bye.”

        Chris’s phone beeped.  A text message.  From Howie.  Chris’s eyes widened.  But no, it couldn’t be.  He checked.

        Knock, knock.

        It was!  Chris was in extreme love.  Who’s there?

        Howie sent, Major.

        Major?  Chris asked, Major who?

        Major answer this knock-knock joke.

        Chris burst into laughter.  Oh, god, was he with the right person.

        “You’ll probably figure it out when we land,” AJ said.  “Enjoy the ride.”

        “We’re flying back tonight?”

        “We have a wedding to catch,” AJ said.  “Do you think I’d miss our Nick getting married?”

        “AJ, where are you taking me?”

        “Kevin.”  AJ leaned over and kissed him, cupping his jaw in one hand.  “You’re going to have to relax and trust me.  You’ll know when you know.”

        “How long have you been planning this?” Kevin asked.

        AJ kissed him again and sat back.  “Long enough.”

        Kevin sighed, sitting back, closing his eyes.  “I love you.”

        He heard the smile in AJ’s voice.  “I know you do.”

        “Stop fidgeting.  Probably the same questions he asked us last time.”

        “What if he decides not to do it?”

        “Then I’ll do it.”

        “You’re not an ordained minister.  And you can’t marry yourself.”

        “Try me.  And stop fidgeting.”

        “I don’t think he likes me.”

        “You don’t think who likes you?”

        “The pastor.”

        “Of course he likes you.”

        “He’s not going to marry three people.”

        “He said that he would.”

        “Who’s coming to this thing, anyway?”

        “Our friends and loved ones.”

        “How are we going to dance at the reception?  We can’t all dance together.”

        “We can take turns.”

        “Who dances the first dance?”

        “You and Brian.”

        “Why me and Brian?”

        “Brian and I danced together first at the last wedding.”

        “Who leads?”

        “You can.”

        “You should lead, you’re a better slow dancer.”

        “Drew’s a better slow dancer.  You two should have the first dance.”

        “I’m nervous.”

        “We can tell.”

        “Shut up.”

        “It’s all right.  Everyone gets nervous.  Pre-wedding jitters.”

        “You two aren’t nervous.”

        “We’ve done this before.”

        “Rub it in.”

        “I am nervous, I just hide it well.”

        “Really?”

        “I am, too.  This is a huge thing we’re doing.  This is the culmination of everything we’ve worked to build.  I never thought I’d see this day, but I’ve been dreaming of it for so long…”

        “You’re going to cry at the altar.”

        “Of course I am.  So are you.”

        “If I do, anyone who laughs is dead.”

        “Tomorrow.  It’s so…soon.”

        “I know.  Your gown’s never going to be ready in time.  Hey, did you know that Drew wants to have the ceremony performed in Chinese?”

        “I didn’t…  I can explain that.”

        “No, you can’t.”

        “Yes, I can.”

        “No, you can’t.”

        “Hold still.”

        “I’m never wearing a tuxedo again in my life!”

        “Chinese?”

        “Hi, upstairs, it’s downstairs.  Joey just called.  He’s coming over.”

        “With Lance?”

        “Yes.”

        “That’s good.”

        “Maybe.”

        “I need this from you, JC.  We all do.  We’re never going to be a solid unit again without Lance.”

        “I know that, baby.”

        “You love him, you always have.”

        “I can’t trust him.”

        “You can trust me, and Joey, and Chris.  If the four of us start being real friends, we can keep Lance with us.  He’s only going to turn on us if we turn our backs on him.  We can’t have that happen again.”

        “I know.  I’ll talk to him.  I’ll hear what he has to say.”

        “Thank you, baby.”

        “I love you.”

        “I love you.”  Justin hung up and studied the angle of the bed to the wall.  “Can you turn it a little more to the left?”

        “Knock, knock.”

        Howie smiled.  “Who’s there?”

        “Sabina.”

        “Sabina who?”

        “Sabina long time since I’ve seen you.  Knock knock.”

        Howie laughed.  “Who’s there?”

        “Mischa.”

        “Mischa who?”

        “Mischa a lot.”

        Howie smiled.  “Knock, knock.”

        “Who’s there?”

        “Myth.”

        “Myth who?” Chris asked.

        “Myth you a lot, too.”

        “It’s empty,” JC said, looking around, walking from room to room.  “You were right, we’re going to have to buy-”

        “JC,” Justin said, more urgently.

        JC smiled, turning to him.  “You know Joey and Lance are on their way here.”

        Justin licked his lips, stepping in so close they were almost touching.  “We can be fast.”

        “Our first time?” JC asked.

        “Then just kiss me,” Justin said.

        “Justin, you know I can’t kiss you without making love to you,” JC said, touching Justin’s lips, reluctantly dropping his hand.

        “If we’re going to be a healthy couple, we’ll have to learn,” Justin said, and kissed him.

        JC moaned, putting his hands on Justin’s body, making love to Justin’s mouth.  Justin’s tongue slid into his mouth and he groaned, running his hands up under Justin’s shirt to stroke Justin’s naked flesh.

        The doorbell chimed.

        Justin broke their kiss, breathing hard.

        JC’s eyes opened slowly.  There was lust in his eyes, need, passion.

        Justin leaned forward, drawn to JC.

        “I can’t…just…kiss you,” JC said, his eyes locked with Justin’s.

        “As soon as they’re gone,” Justin said.  “You can have all of me.”

        JC kissed him, eyes closing as though in pain, their mouths clinging to each other.  When they broke apart, Justin made a lost, hurt sound and turned away.

        JC tried to keep himself together.  “We’ve made it this far.”

        Justin pressed his fingers to his eyes.

        “I would do anything for you,” JC said.  “That’s the only thing that keeps me going.”

        “You’re supposed to be,” Justin took a steadying breath, “doing this for yourself, not for me.  That’s what got us into this in the first place.”

        “I’m doing it for us,” JC said.  “On good days, I’m doing it for me.  Sometimes, the only thing that’s keeping me from falling back into it is all of the agony you’ve been through.  I can’t put you through that again.”

        “You won’t,” Justin said.  “We’ll make it.”

        The doorbell rang again.

        JC took a deep breath.  “Can you do this?”

        “Yeah.”  Justin dropped his hands, squaring his shoulders.  “But you have to forgive Lance, because I can’t do this and fight with him, too.  We need him on our side.”

        JC nodded and opened the door.  “Sorry we kept you waiting.”

        “That’s okay,” Joey said.  “We’re getting used to it.”

        “Come in,” Justin said.  “We actually have furniture, in a few of the rooms, if you want to sit.”

        “Congratulations on moving in,” Joey said, as the four of them walked into the next room.  “It’s about time.”

        “Thanks for letting us stay at your place,” JC said.

        “Any time,” Joey said.  “Sorry I haven’t been there much lately.”

        “No, we understand,” Justin said, and risked smiling at Lance.  Everyone else was still standing, so he remained standing, too.

        “We were just at Brian’s,” Lance said.

        “Really?” Justin asked.

        “He forgave me,” Lance said.  His gaze hardened as he looked at JC.  “You can call him if you want.”

        “We believe you,” Justin said.

        “Would you believe me if Joey weren’t vouching for me?” Lance asked.  It was an honest question; a bit too direct to be merely inquisitive, but not caustic enough to be nasty and accusing.

        If Lance was going to ask an honest question, Justin would give an honest answer.  “I would choose to.”

        “We need you,” JC said suddenly.  Lance looked taken aback.  “We need you,” JC said again.  “We need your support and your friendship.  We need as much of that as we can get right now, and you’re one of the three best friends we’ve ever, ever had.  We need you, Lance.  This is too hard.  Justin and I never see each other, we can’t even call each other, we’re not allowed to touch each other - - it’s so fucking hard.  I’m dying inside without him, a little more every day, and he’s right here, how can it be like this?”

        “JC,” Justin said, reaching out to him.

        JC wouldn’t let Justin embrace him, but took Justin’s hand, squeezing it without looking at Justin, gaze still on Lance.  “And please, I’m asking you, we can’t have you as our enemy right now.  You’re too dangerous, you could do a lot of damage if you tried.  We need you, we need all three of you, more than we ever have.”

        “I need to be able to call you when JC’s been in the studio all day and I’m having another panic attack,” Justin said.  “I need you to come and check on us when we’ve been home alone together for too long.  I need you to remind me how bad it really was before, when I’m about to jump off that cliff again and drag JC down with me.”

        “We miss you,” JC said.  “I’ve missed you, Lance.  We’ve been best friends for a long time.  We’ve been through a lot.  I hear a song and I think, Lance would love this.  I buy a shirt and I think, Lance would hate this.  But it’s been such a long time since I’ve really shared anything with you, and I miss that.  You’re as much a part of me as Joey or Chris.  I don’t care if Brian forgives you, I don’t care if Joey’s vouching for you, I just want to be able to be with you again.”

        “I used to want someone like you,” Lance said.  “I wanted someone to love me the way you love Justin.  I wanted someone to be a slave to my soul.”  He shifted his gaze to Justin briefly before turning it back to JC.  “I wanted that when I was alone and feeling completely unloved.  I don’t want that anymore.  It is nice to be adored, and Joey does make me feel special, but I don’t want that kind of dependence.  Joey doesn’t want me to be a demigod, he wants me to be myself, whoever that is.  He lets me be myself.  He’s helping me to find myself, in ways he doesn’t even know about.  That’s the way I want to be loved.”  He looked at Justin again, at JC again.  “If that’s what you’re trying to find, then I want to help you.”

        Justin released JC’s hand so that JC could step forward and embrace Lance.  “Thank you,” JC said.  “I love you,” he whispered, hugging Lance, holding on.

        “I’ve always loved you,” Lance said.  “I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, JC.”

        “I missed you,” JC said.  “Stay this time.”

        “I wasn’t there for you.  Everything was about my pain, and I took it out on the people I loved most.”

        “Look who you’re talking to.”

        Justin smiled.

        JC kissed Lance’s cheek, stepping back, sliding his fingers along Lance’s jaw.  “I love you.  I’m glad you’re back.”

        “You, too,” Lance said.  “Can I get a house tour?”

        “Absolutely,” JC said.  He glanced at Justin.  “Do we have time for that, baby?”

        “We always have time for our friends,” Justin said.

        JC smiled.  “I love you.”

        “You can show me how much, later.”

        A shockingly intense look of blindingly fierce heat passed between them, and then JC turned back to Lance as though nothing had happened.  “We only have a few rooms halfway furnished, and we’re still making decisions on how to decorate…”

        “So you do recognize it,” AJ said.

        “AJ, what are we doing in Kentucky?”

        “Getting in a car,” AJ said.

        “Are we going to visit my family?”

        “Yeah, I’m sure they’d love to talk to me right now.”

        “They love you.”

        “Not the day before Brian’s wedding.”

        Kevin had to admit that AJ had a point.  “Where are we going?”

        “You really can’t stop asking, can you?  Get in the car.  And don’t ask the driver.  I’m paying him extra to keep him from telling you.”

        “How far are we going?”

        “Far enough to get to our destination,” AJ said.  “Be quiet and enjoy the scenery.”

        Kevin got in the car, buckling his seatbelt.  As they drove, he took AJ’s advice and watched the scenery.  He’d never been to this particular city, but it all reminded him of home.  God, it felt good to be back in Kentucky.  AJ leaned against him and he closed his eyes, soaking up the moment.  He was home again, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it; he had AJ with him, and he hadn’t realized what that would mean to him, to bring these two things together in this way.

        “Thank you.”

        “We haven’t done what we came here to do,” AJ said.

        “You’ve already given me this,” Kevin said.  “You.  Here.  With me.”

        “You’ve brought me here before,” AJ said.

        “As a friend,” Kevin said.  “Not like this.”  He opened his eyes and looked at the passing farmland.  “How much longer?”

        “About half an hour, now.”

        “I don’t want this to end,” Kevin admitted.

        “It’ll get better,” AJ said.

        “Are we going to have time to see anyone before we go back?”

        “We will,” AJ said.  “I called ahead.  We can’t stay long.”

        “I want to bring you home,” Kevin said.  “Not for them.  For me.  I’m proud of you.  I’m proud to be with you.  I’m happy to be here, with you.”

        AJ’s hand covered his.  “I love you, too.”

        “Who’s there?” Howie asked, reaching the bottom of the stairs.

        Chris looked startled to see him that close, but said, “Wafer.”

        “Wafer who?” Howie asked.

        “Wafer a while, but I’m back now.”

        Howie smiled and kissed him.  “Welcome home.”

        “Let’s go somewhere,” Chris said, walking towards the kitchen.

        “Now?” Howie asked, following him.

        “Now,” Chris said.  “Let’s go to the movies.  Let’s go shopping.  Let’s go cow tipping.  Can you get me the phone?”

        Howie turned to pick up the phone.  As he pivoted back, he stopped short.  Chris was wearing antennae.  It was one of those plastic headbands with two wire coils sticking out of it, each topped with a ball of green fuzz.  Howie couldn’t help himself; he started laughing.

        “Thanks,” Chris said, taking the phone.  He gave Howie a suspicious look.  “What?”

        “What are you wearing?” Howie asked, still laughing.

        “What?” Chris said.  “Jeans, sneakers, you don’t like this shirt?  Joey gave me this shirt!  I can’t believe you’re laughing at Joey’s gift to me.  Wow, you’re incredible.”  He started dialing.  “Some people.”

        Howie tried to pull himself together.  “I apologize,” he said, managing to hold the laughter in.

        “Well, I’ll think about forgiving you, then,” Chris said.  “Hi, it’s me, I’m checking in,” he said into the phone.

        Howie watched the green balls of fuzz dancing above Chris’s head, and started laughing again.

        “What?” Chris demanded.  “I’m on the phone!”

        “Sorry,” Howie said, turning his back to compose himself.

        “Really?  Everything’s okay?  Is this a false truce, or is he for real this time?  Are you sure?  Okay.  Okay.  Yeah.  Okay.  Give JC a kiss for me.  You still haven’t done it yet?  Damn.  Good luck with that.  Okay.  Bye.”

        Calmer, Howie turned.  When he saw Chris again, a snort of laughter escaped, but otherwise, he held it together.

        “Movies, movies,” Chris said, tapping his fingers on the countertop.  “What do you want to see?  How about a comedy?  You seem to be in a pretty good mood for laughing at people.”

        “I’m sorry,” Howie said.  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”  He could play innocent as long as Chris could.

        “I really thought you were more mature than this,” Chris said.  He took a glass from the cabinet and opened the refrigerator.  “Where’s that stuff I drink?”

        “You mean water?” Howie asked.

        “Hold on, I think I found it.  Back there, reach, okay, got it!”  Chris stood triumphantly, and goggle eyeballs from long wire coils extended down from the black-rimmed glasses he’d put on.

        Howie burst into laughter.

        “What is going on with you today?” Chris asked, closing the refrigerator door.

        “Chris, you-”  Howie couldn’t stop laughing to explain.

        “I don’t even know what I see in you,” Chris said, and put his eyeballs back in so he could look at Howie better.

        He couldn’t take it.  He laughed so hard it hurt.  And the whole time, Chris was alternately puzzled and indignant, parading around with antennae, his eyeballs flopping forward from his glasses.  Howie laughed until his ribs ached, until he couldn’t breathe, until tears started to fall.  That was when Chris said, “Knock, knock.”

        No, no, no, Howie couldn’t possibly - - he couldn’t even catch his breath, much less speak.

        Chris tapped Howie’s forehead.  “Knock, knock.”

        Howie was seconds away from sliding down the counter and laughing on the floor.

        Chris poked him in the ribs.  “Knock, knock.”

        Howie pushed Chris away weakly in self-defense, then gave in and sat on the floor.

        Chris started laughing at him.

        Howie laughed harder.

        Chris crouched beside him, pulling on his hair.  “Knock, knock.”

        Howie shook his head, trying to catch his breath, refusing to look in Chris’s direction, knowing Chris would get him started again.

        Tapping on his knee.  “Knock, knock.”

        “Don’t, don’t,” Howie said, wiping tears from his cheeks.  He finally caught his breath.  “Off, off, take them off.”

        “Take what off?” Chris asked with perfect innocence.

        “I’m not looking at you until they’re gone,” Howie said.

        “Where’s your sense of humor?”

        Howie had to laugh.

        “Okay, just for you.  They’re gone.  Okay?”

        Howie risked a glance.  No antennae, no glasses.  Chris smiled at him.  He smiled back, feeling warm laughter bubble inside.  “Hi.”

        “Hi,” Chris said, sitting beside him, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile.  “Knock, knock.”

        Howie curled his hand around the back of Chris’s neck, his thumb whispering over Chris’s nape.  “Who’s there?”

        “Virtue,” Chris said.

        Virtue.  Hmm.  “Virtue who?” Howie asked.

        “Virtue get those pretty brown eyes?” Chris asked.

        Howie smiled.  “Knock, knock.”

        Chris’s hand rested on Howie’s knee.  “Who’s there?”

        “Waddle,” Howie said.

        Curiosity flickered in Chris’s eyes.  “Waddle who?”

        Howie leaned incrementally closer.  “Waddle you give me if I give you a kiss?”

        He heard Chris catch his breath.  Chris’s eyes lifted from Howie’s mouth to his eyes.  “Kiss me and find out.”

        Bold.  Howie kissed him, gently.  The hand on the back of Chris’s neck kept him in place.  Chris’s kiss was slow, his tongue sleek, his hand sliding up Howie’s thigh.  Howie’s dick began to harden, and their kiss became deeper, more intense.

        “We have to go,” Chris said.

        That had been a rather sudden shift in conversation.  “Now?” Howie asked.  “Why?”

        “Let’s go see a movie,” Chris said.  “A nice, long movie.  Maybe even two of them.”

        “Are you trying to get me out of the house?” Howie asked.

        “Of course not.  What makes you think that?” Chris asked.  “Let’s discuss it in the car,” he suggested, getting to his feet, offering a hand to Howie.

        All right.  Howie was willing to go along with whatever Chris wanted.  “Do I have time to change clothes?” he asked.  If he didn’t, he’d make do.

        “If you’re quick,” Chris said.  “You know, because the movie might be starting soon.”

        “I’ll be fast,” Howie promised, heading for the stairs.  “I know you hate missing previews.”

        “I love you, Howie Dorough!” Chris shouted up after him.

        “We didn’t think we could take one,” Drew said.

        “You’re recording,” Nick said.

        “After the album’s done,” Brian said.  “We could take a few weeks somewhere.”

        “Where do you want to go?” Drew asked.

        “Where haven’t we been?” Brian asked.

        Drew thought about it.

        Nick frowned, then raised his eyebrows, pondering.

        Brian studied the carpet, thinking.

        “Yeah, so where have we been that we’d like to revisit?” Nick asked.

        “Go look at the horses while I find Henry,” AJ said, so Kevin walked over to the fence.  He leaned against it, watching the horses.  They were well-groomed.  Someone was taking great care of them.  He watched them, thinking of how the many different paths his life might have taken.  He’d always liked horses, had always wanted a place like this, even a life like this.

        A few minutes later, the sound of AJ’s voice broke through his thoughts.  “Kevin,” AJ called, and Kevin turned to see AJ coming from the barn with another man.  “Kevin Richardson, Henry Richman.  Henry’s running the place.”

        “A pleasure to meet you,” Henry said, offering a hand.

        Kevin shook it.  “Nice to meet you.  Great place you have here.”

        “Let me show you around, introduce you to the horses,” Henry said.  “Get you familiar with the place.”

        “All right,” Kevin said.  He was perfectly agreeable to the idea, although he wasn’t sure of the point of this visit.

        Henry gave them a tour of the house, which was simple and almost elegant inside, and then the barn.  There were six horses in all, impressive males whose primary purpose was breeding.  When Henry described the actual acreage of the ranch, Kevin had to blink a little.

        And then Henry said, “That was my room off in the corner at the back of the house, there.  If you’ve no objection, I’ll be staying on.  I don’t require a lot myself, but there are expenses for running this place, keeping the boys happy,” he patted a horse’s neck, “that sort of thing.  Your man here said he’ll be tending to that himself, but since you’re the boss, I thought it only right to go over the figures with you.”

        There had been quite a bit of new information there, but Kevin’s first question was, “I’m the boss?”

        “You own this place,” AJ said.  “You will as soon as we sign a few things at the bank.”  AJ paused for a second, something like modesty holding him back.  Then he admitted,  “I bought it for you.”

        “You bought this for me?” Kevin asked, looking around the barn, in his mind still seeing the rolling expanses of grass, the classic rustic elegance of the house.

        “Consider it your country getaway,” AJ said.  “I know you like peace and quiet.  Henry’s going to live here and run everything while you’re gone, but you can come here whenever you want.  It’s yours.”

        “You bought this for me,” Kevin said.

        “Could we have a few minutes?” AJ asked Henry.

        “This place is yours to do with as you like,” Henry said.  “Don’t worry about the boys, they don’t spook much.”  With that, he ambled on out of the barn.

        Kevin found himself staring at AJ.  AJ had done this for him.  AJ was giving this to him.  He was moved by the display of love when AJ made him breakfast, and now this?  “How did you do this?”

        AJ was frank.  “First step, I talked to Brian about whether or not I was insane and what good Kentucky land really was.  I called Kentucky-based realtors, got a list of options, and picked the best three.  I wanted as much space and land as possible, and I wanted something low-maintenance.  This one sounded the best, so I contacted the seller, and he put me in touch with Henry.  I sent Henry a few disposable cameras, and he took pictures for me and sent them back.  It’s perfect, Kevin, it’s you.  I could see you in that master bedroom.  I could see you with these horses.  I could see you on that front porch.”

        “Why?” Kevin asked, cupping AJ’s face in his hands, running his fingers over AJ’s features.  “Why me, why this?”

        “I wanted to give you something,” AJ said.  “I wanted to do something for you.  You waited for me for years, and you never complained.  When I was ready for you, you were there.  Look at you, you just gave me the car of my wet dreams.”

        “You didn’t know I would give that to you when you did this.”

        “I love you,” AJ said.  “I want you to know that.  I want you to have things from me.  I want you to look around your life and be able to see proof that I’ve had my hands all over it.”

        Kevin kissed him.  He’d wanted AJ almost forever, and now here, this, AJ giving him a home, a dream.  His life was everything he’d wanted from it, and much more, so much more he couldn’t believe it was real.  He walked AJ backwards, pushing AJ down in a pile of hay.  AJ growled softly, a low fuck-me-now request, and Kevin began to undress him.

        With AJ’s shirt open, AJ’s pants open, Kevin sucked on his cock, listening to him moan.  “Fuck me,” AJ insisted, “fuck me here.  Fuck me now.”

        Kevin did, fucked him hard, out of love, out of gratitude, out of a desire to make him moan and shudder and come.  They made out, right there in the hay, kissing each other and touching each other and moaning with desire, and even though the hay was itchy and scratchy, Kevin had AJ in his arms right in the middle of acres of acres of pure Kentucky countryland, and he wouldn’t have changed a thing about a thing.  He made love to AJ again, and towards the end when he had AJ moaning and writhing and panting his name, right before he made AJ scream, Kevin decided that he had, hands down, the best life anyone had ever had.

        “You’re thinking too hard,” Drew said without looking up.

        “What do you have so far?” Brian asked.

        Nick snorted.  “‘I love Drew because he makes sexy noises in the back of his throat when I’m fucking him.’”

        Drew raised his head, pinning Nick with a dark look.  “Try again.”

        “Lick it,” Nick muttered, pushing back his chair.  “I’m going to play System Strike.”

        “Nick,” Brian said, his voice half concerned gentle patience, half warning.  “You’re putting too much thought into this.  It’s only a few short lines on what this marriage is going to mean to you.  What kinds of promises do you want to make to us?”

        “I promise to give Brian head once a day,” Nick said.  “I promise not to beat Drew when he irritates me.”

        “That’s because you know I could take you,” Drew said.

        Nick snorted.

        “Let’s try something,” Brian said.  “Don’t write your vows.  Write mine, or Drew’s.  Just as practice.  Write what you think we would promise on our wedding day.”

        Nick smirked at Drew.  “Okay.”  He scooted his chair back in and begin writing.

        Drew, bent over his own page, closed his eyes.  “I do not want to know, I do not want to know…”

        Howie snuck a few pieces of Chris’s popcorn and whispered, “Who’s there?”

        Chris turned his head farther, putting his lips to Howie’s ear.  “Wicked.”

        Howie’s hand slipped beneath the tub of popcorn, pressing between Chris’s legs.  Suddenly hard, Chris moaned softly, feeling his eyes almost roll back in his head.  How did Howie do this to him?  “Wicked,” Howie repeated, and the word sounded nasty and sexy to Chris’s ears.

        Howie was fucking rubbing him down in a public movie theater.  If they got caught and arrested, it would be incredibly fucking worth it.  Chris’s breath caught in his throat, and then Howie’s hand was gone.  He tried to breathe.

        Howie’s voice was the sexiest of whispers.  “Wicked who?”  Then his tongue was in Chris’s ear, and if they’d been even marginally less famous, Chris would have risked it and fucked Howie in a stall in the restroom or even right there in the theater.  No, he couldn’t, he respected Howie too much.

        Howie’s tongue was no longer fucking Chris’s ear, and Chris realized that Howie had asked him a question.  Oh, right.  Yeah.  That.  Chris turned his head, nuzzling Howie’s ear, licking a little, sucking a little, nibbling a little.  “Wicked make beautiful music together.”

        Howie’s soft chuckle was downright arousing.  “Yes, we could,” he whispered, and then Chris was being kissed, and kissing back.

        Chris knew, somewhere in his brain, that other people were in the theater.  People who had recognized them, and might be paying attention to what they were doing.  His business, however, was his business, and he didn’t want there to be a blurb in a magazine detailing how he and Howie had been seen necking in a public theater.  He backed off, thinking that as soon as his hard-on diminished a little he should go out to the lobby to get away from Howie and cool down.

        Either Howie was an exhibitionist, or he had a new kink involving John Cusack movies, because he nuzzled Chris’s neck and breathed, right into Chris’s ear, “I want you to fuck me.”

        Chris jumped up, undiminished erection and all.  “Stay there, stay here, stay put, I just, soda, Coke, ice,” and he fumbled his way out to the aisle and ran.

        In the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, considering splashing cold water on his dick, it occurred to Chris that maybe Joey had been right all along.  Maybe Howie was a lech.  All right, maybe so, but Howie was still his lech, his gorgeous incredible sexy sweet lech.  And maybe he shouldn’t turn Howie on, not deliver, and then drag Howie out into public, because clearly the consequences of that kind of behavior were dire.

        Maybe that just meant they should make love for two hours just before leaving the house, every time they went out together.

        Chris was willing to make that kind of sacrifice.

        The door opened, and Chris remembered way too late that he was now dating someone who could follow him right into the men’s restroom when he ran off to escape.  Howie looked far more suave and unruffled than Chris felt, and walked around Chris with a sweet, I can get under your skin and turn you into a drooling mass of hormones with one look, smile.  Howie now was behind Chris, so Chris turned.  “Hi.”

        Howie handed him a paper towel.  “Can we go home?”

        Not enough time had passed.  Chris dried his face and tossed the paper towel.  “Let’s not go home yet.  The night is young.”

        “Where do you want to go?” Howie asked.

        Chris was honest.  “A hotel.”

        Howie smiled.  “I’m sorry about that.  I went too far.”

        “Don’t apologize,” Chris said.  “I’ve never enjoyed a movie more.”

        Howie laughed.  “What’s it called?”

        Chris had absolutely no idea.

        Howie laughed again.  “Where do you want to go that’s not a hotel?”

        A club, but that was far too sexual a situation.  Somewhere public and well-lit.  What were the places Howie had mentioned last night?  “Toys ‘R’ Us.”

        Howie smiled.  “Let’s go.”

        Nick turned the notebook so that he could see it.  “That’s me, that’s Brian, and that’s you.”

        Drew didn’t remember Brian being quite that flexible.  “I think the proportions are off.”

        “Let me see what you wrote,” Brian said.

        Nick turned a page and handed the notebook to Brian.  “It’s like being back in school.”

        Drew studied Nick.  Nick was restless and irritable and giving in to immature tendencies.  He wasn’t sure why, but his first guess was that Nick was nervous about tomorrow.  After all, it wasn’t every day that Nick got to marry Brian.

        Drew stood.

        Nick looked at him.  “Where are you going?”

        Drew came around the table.

        “What?” Nick demanded.

        Drew sat in front of him on the table.

        “Go sit down,” Nick said.  “Get off me.  I don’t even like you.  Don’t put your ass on the dining room table, people eat here.”

        “We never use this room,” Drew said.  “Close your eyes.”

        “No.”

        Drew ran his fingers through Nick’s hair, gazing into blue eyes.  Those eyes, that mouth, the hair, the nose, the one hundred million expressions, Nick was one of the most beautiful people Drew had ever seen.  In his mind, he kept wanting to stretch Nick across a bed and have attendants surrounding Nick, fanning him and feeding him grapes, tending to his every whim, while the rest of the world celebrated his beauty.

        Drew’s fingertips drifted down Nick’s cheek.  So beautiful.  He stroked Nick’s eyebrows, down Nick’s nose.  The outer corner of each eye.  He’d worship at Nick’s feet if he let himself.  He wanted to crawl to Nick on his hands and knees, would give up everything in his life to be able to wipe sweat from Nick’s brow.

        “Drew.”

        Drew blinked.  He had the feeling it wasn’t the first time Brian had said his name.  He realized that Nick was looking a little too amused.  Drew lowered his hand, tearing his eyes from Nick’s face.  “Sorry?” he asked Brian.

        “I said, when you’re done admiring Nick, I want you to read this,” Brian said, handing over Nick’s notebook.

        “I didn’t write that for him to read,” Nick said.

        Drew held Nick’s notebook in his lap, running his fingers over the scribbled lines without reading them.  He raised his eyes to Nick’s face.

        “Okay, I know.”  Nick kissed his cheek.  “Don’t give me the ‘I’d be lost without you’ look.”

        Drew tried, he really did.  He was away from Nick and Brian a lot of the time, for the majority of their relationship, and he always told himself that he’d be fine without them, that if something happened and he was never reunited with them, his life would go on.  And of course, it would.  But it wouldn’t be the same.  His heart would never beat the same.  He’d never smile as often or laugh as heartily.  No one else knew love as he knew love; no one else had touched something this beautiful or this sacred.  Would he be lost?  Without Brian, without Nick?  He didn’t want to admit it, but yes.  He would be.  His life had a purpose now that he’d never known before.

        Nick kissed his other cheek.

        Drew hadn’t blushed in a long time, but he felt his cheeks turning red.  He lowered his gaze to Nick’s scrawl.

        My name is Andy, and I vow to love Nick and Brian for the rest of my life.  I vow to grab Nick’s ass a lot, but I will never again bitch at him about leaving his clothes on the floor.  I vow to make Brian my bitch once and for all because I like the way he drools when I flex my rippling muscles.  I vow to be a good husband, and I promise to love, respect, and be nice to Nick and Brian for as long as we all shall live.  Also, I promise to continue to let Nick kiss me whenever he wants, because he’s damned good at it.  And to keep making sexy noises when I’m turned on.  And to keep this incredible body.

        “This is more interesting than what I have written,” Drew admitted.  “You do realize that I wouldn’t complain about you leaving a mess behind everywhere you go, if you’d learn to pick up after yourself?”

        “Why do you complain about it when you love doing it?” Nick asked.

        “I don’t love picking up after you,” Drew said.

        “Yes, you do,” Nick said.

        “Read the next one,” Brian said.

        I, Andrew John Carter Littrell Lachey, am in love with this guy to my right.  I listen to him when he’s upset, I laugh with him when he’s happy, and I look at him all soft and sweet when he’s not sure how he feels but he just wants to be close to me.  I make him feel a lot of things, like sexy and confident and safe and warm and happy, and I even make him feel like somebody really, really truly loves him.  I’ve always stood by him, and I’ve always stayed faithful to him, and I’ve promised to be his forever.  I know he’s counting on me, so today I vow that I’ll keep doing all of those things.

        I, Andrew John Carter Littrell Lachey, am also in love with this guy to my left.  He’s so good-looking virgins lick his cum off the floor, and he thinks I hung the moon.  He’s a very, very, very, very, very, very special person, and I can’t ever break his heart.  That’s why I vow to take care of him, and be there for him, and help him whenever he needs it, even when he won’t admit he needs it, because he’s like that sometimes.

        I also vow to let Nick suck my dick whenever he wants to.

        Drew tipped up Nick’s chin and kissed him.  “I love you.”

        “Maybe we shouldn’t write our vows tonight,” Brian said.

        “I told you that,” Nick said.

        “Maybe we should just say whatever’s in our hearts in the moment,” Brian said.

        “Hell, no,” Nick said.

        “I don’t think that this is the time for extemporaneous speaking,” Drew said.

        Nick stared at him.  “What the hell did you just say?”

        “Wedding aren’t the best time to ad-lib,” Drew said.

        “Oh,” Nick said.  “Yeah, I agree with Drew,” he told Brian.  “Ex-what?” he asked Drew.

        “Extemporaneous,” Drew said, watching Nick’s eyes.

        “Extemporaneous,” Nick repeated carefully.  “That means…improv?”

        “Unrehearsed,” Drew said.  “Off of the top of your head.”  He’d noticed that Nick had started asking him about things like that, instead of letting them pass by.  He liked that.  He respected it.

        “Our vows will be more honest,” Brian said.

        “We’ll forget important things, and we’ll stumble and mutter,” Drew said.

        “I think it’ll be better for Nick,” Brian said.  “What he wants to say is there, it’s in his heart, and when we’re in front of the altar, and the moment’s right, the words will flow.  He’s pushing himself too hard right now, he’s guaranteeing his own frustration.”

        “I’m saying, if I can’t think of anything to say now, I’ll never think of anything to say then,” Nick said.  “This stuff is easy for you, you have three pages of shit right now, and even if you scrap that all, tomorrow standing in the middle of a church you’ll start giving a sermon on love and marriage.  Not everyone is like you, Brian.  And look at who we’ll be talking in front of,” Nick added.  “JC and Justin, the authorities on love.  Jeff and Nick, who have the most solid partnership I’ve ever seen.”

        “Sweetheart.”  Brian pulled his chair closer, taking Nick’s hand.  “Look into my eyes.  Think of what you want to say to me.  There is so much love inside of you waiting for expression, it’s in your eyes every time you look at me.  I know how much you love me. Just think of how you want to tell me.”

        Nick looked at Brian.

        Drew watched.

        Nick’s gaze softened.

        “Nick,” Brian said softly.

        Drew watched Nick’s face, the varying expressions, the absolute love there.  Trust.  Admiration.  Adoration.  Fascination.  Captivation.  Then Drew’s gaze shifted to Brian’s face.  On the surface, there was love, pure shining love, but underneath…  Brian lived off of Nick, fed off of Nick, would burn civilizations to the ground to keep Nick safe.  Brian had all of the control in that relationship, but Nick held all of the power, and maybe Brian kept that kind of control to keep Nick from realizing how absolutely he ruled Brian.  Nick’s rule was absolute.  Brian would move mountains for Nick without hesitation.  And if Drew could see that with a glance into Brian’s eyes, how much more was beneath the surface?

        “This is too private,” Drew said.  “We can’t share this.  Not even just this - - Brian, I know how you feel about Nick.  I know how I feel about Nick.  We can’t share that with anyone.”

        “Why not?” Nick asked.  “How do you feel about me?”

        Brian looked at Drew.  “I hadn’t thought about that.”

        “What?” Nick asked.

        “If we’re going to do this, I want what we say to be an honest reflection of our feelings, but I can’t talk about those things in front of just anyone,” Drew said.

        “Then maybe Nick’s right,” Brian said.  “Maybe we shouldn’t write our own vows.”

        “Or maybe we could, and say them privately, alone,” Drew said.  “Right before the ceremony.”

        “Yes,” Brian said.  “Yes.  And you can write them, or have notes, or just speak from your heart in the moment.”

        “Extemporaneously,” Nick said.  “What’s wrong with how you feel about me?”

        “Nothing’s wrong with it,” Brian said.  “It’s just…  It may be hard for some people to understand.”

        “You two are hard for anybody to understand,” Nick said.  “I’m going to go play System Strike.”  He kissed their cheeks and left the room.

        They watched him go.

        “I would walk miles to smell his hair,” Drew said.

        “I would walk across fire to lick the bottoms of his feet,” Brian said.

        Drew shuddered.

        “I live and breathe him,” Brian said, still watching the doorway where Nick had last been.

        “He’s never understood that,” Drew said.

        “Live and breathe,” Brian repeated softly.

        “There is no other food in this house,” Lance said.  “Keep the pizza.”

        “Have it for breakfast,” Joey advised.

        “Thanks, guys,” JC said, hugging Joey first, then Lance.

        “See you tomorrow,” Joey said.

        “See you tomorrow,” Justin said.  They left, and he closed the door.

        JC spun Justin around, shoving him back against the door and bruising his mouth with a rough, needful kiss.  “Upstairs,” JC whispered intensely, his fingers rubbing the lines of Justin’s hips.  “On the bed.”

        Justin didn’t pause, didn’t ask, simply went.  He was aware of JC at his heels, and stripped as he neared the bed.  He fell onto it, kicking his jeans and underwear off, dropping onto his back.  The mattress was bare, with no sheets or pillows, but that didn’t matter.  It was their bed, in their home.  Justin had never needed fancy sheets or soft pillows, only JC, always JC.

        JC came to him, naked, stalking.  JC sucked on his neck, marking him, and Justin ached from wanting the naked press of JC’s body to his.  “J…C…,” he said, already panting, on the verge of a moan.

        “You don’t have to give yourself to me, Justin,” JC said, and raised his head, looking into Justin’s eyes.  “Just give me your body.”

        Justin closed his eyes.  He didn’t know if he could do that.  He didn’t know how to be with JC like this, without giving JC every last piece of his soul.  JC owned him, owned all of him, and he didn’t think he could make that distinction.  Especially not in a moment like this.  He was used to giving JC his body, and with his body came the rest of him.  He’d never held anything back from JC, never when they were making love.

        “Give it to me,” JC said, and kissed him, hands burning over his skin as JC stroked his body.  Justin kissed JC back; it was impossible not to, it was an instinctual response.  JC kissed like no one else, like he owned Justin’s mouth.  He did, he owned Justin’s mouth, owned Justin’s body, Justin’s heart, Justin’s soul.

        JC’s mouth lifted from Justin’s and Justin moaned, bereft.  “Baby,” JC said, and Justin opened his eyes, feeling his heartbeat pick up speed at the thought that JC wanted his attention.  “Justin,” JC said, caressing his hip with long, soothing strokes that made Justin want to shut out all other sensation and live off of that touch forever.  “Are you with me, baby?”

        “JC,” Justin said, raising his hand, running his fingers down JC’s cheek.  He was able to touch this incredible, insanely gorgeous, insanely sexy, sanity-robbing god of a man.  He was JC’s, and JC was his.

        JC’s fingers stroked beneath Justin’s chin, eyes focused on Justin’s eyes.  “Talk to me, Justin, tell me where you are.”

        “JC,” he said, and it sounded good to his ears, felt like sex in his mouth, “JC, JC, JC.  JC.”

        “Justin.”  Slow, gentle rubbing on his outer thigh.  Justin pressed into JC’s touch, which had the effect of spreading his legs.  Panting softly, he slid his fingertips along JC’s high cheekbone.  It felt…it felt…  His body was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t listen, wouldn’t be distracted, had to focus on JC, on the color of JC’s eyes, on the feel of JC’s touch, on the overwhelming, on the overwhelming, on the…the…

        Something exploded inside Justin’s body, a soft, wet, yet massive eruption.  He jerked, stunned, taken by surprise, lips parted, eyes widening.  Echoes of it were still rocking through his body, as he gazed up at JC, rubbing his fingertips across JC’s cheekbone, shuddering.  JC’s hand on his thigh was still, and there was something new in JC’s eyes, some kind of surprise, a little awe, a little worry.  “JC,” Justin said.

        JC’s hand left Justin’s thigh.  One finger slid across Justin’s stomach.  “Close your eyes, baby,” JC said.

        Justin didn’t want to sever the connection of their gaze, couldn’t break away.  But JC had asked him to, so he forced his eyes to shut.  He felt a touch at his mouth, JC’s finger rubbing over his bottom lip.  He licked his lips instinctively, and tasted cum.  JC touched his stomach again, then his mouth again, and before he could lick, JC’s tongue was there, licking for him.  Justin moaned, and JC kissed him, and Justin’s mouth was no longer his own.  Justin’s mouth was JC’s mouth, and Justin’s tongue was JC’s pleasure toy, and JC was moving higher on Justin’s body to kiss from a more direct angle, making Justin tip his chin up, kissing harder, deeper.

        JC’s right hand moved with insistent need over Justin’s body, feeling and rubbing and pulling and stroking, as JC rested his weight on his left arm.  He caressed Justin’s hip, Justin’s shoulder, Justin’s upper arm.  Justin moaned, writhing slowly as JC teased his nipple.  Justin burned for more: the weight of JC’s body on his, the slide of JC’s skin against his; but he was happy with any little bit that JC could give him, any small brush of molecule to molecule.  JC’s tongue adored his mouth with steady sexual focus, and Justin’s hands came to JC’s shoulders, pulling JC closer.

        But JC wouldn’t keep that mouth to mouth contact that Justin thrived on.  He lowered his head, sucking at Justin’s neck.  He hit that one hot spot right over Justin’s collarbone and Justin moaned, arching his back, spreading his thighs.  Panting a steady chant of JC’s name, Justin felt his head fall back to expose his neck, felt his pelvis rise in need and invitation, raked his nails over the mattress.  He wanted, he wanted...  He wanted JC, anything from JC, anything that JC could give him.  It didn’t matter what it was, how much or how little, it was all the same, it was all JC.  JC was all that mattered.

        “Stay with me, baby, Justin, hang on,” JC said.  His mouth was on Justin’s nipple, and every sound, every movement that Justin made was screaming with need, and JC’s tongue was making Justin’s nipples hurt, god, he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t take this, he couldn’t, please, god, JC, JC...

        Then JC’s hand was low on his stomach, holding him down, keeping him in place.  Justin obeyed the touch, falling still, trying to catch his breath.  The pressure of JC’s hand, the intimacy of skin on skin, it made Justin want to move, to writhe, but JC wanted him to be still, so he forced himself under control.  For JC.

        JC was looking into his eyes.  Justin panted, lips parted, gazing up at JC, his mind fucking itself with the steady chant: “JC, JC, JC…”

        “I need you here with me, Justin.  Be here with me.  You know how much I want this, but I have to have you really here with me.”

        He was here, he was there, he was anywhere JC wanted him to be.  Justin gazed into JC’s face, willing to give JC anything, anything at all.  JC had said, had said…  He tried to remember.  “You don’t have to give yourself to me, Justin.  Just give me your body.”  His body.  He’d give JC his body.  But why stop there?  Why not give JC everything else, too?  Everything about him, everything he was, all offered up in sacrifice, in tribute.

        “No, Justin, no,” JC said, his voice soothing, controlling.  “No, baby, not that, don’t give that to me.  Keep that for yourself.  I have to learn to live without it.  You have to learn to live with it.”

        Justin didn’t understand.  JC was refusing…?  But he had to give, he needed to give, nothing was his own, nothing ever had been his own, it always had been JC’s, belonged to JC.

        “Justin.”  Justin closed his eyes as JC pressed a slow, loving line of kisses across his hairline.  “Justin, I love you, but I can’t make love to you until I know you’re safe.”

        Safe.  Justin reached up, curling his fingers in JC’s hair, pulling JC in, holding JC there.  He pressed his lips to JC’s shoulder.  His body was still shouting at him, wanting to shake and shiver and writhe and need, but he pushed aside his physical responses to JC.  He had to think.  JC was saying something that he needed to understand.

        Slowly, carefully, respectfully, JC’s weight settled onto him, JC’s naked body covering his.  Justin breathed with deliberate control, forcing himself not to react.  He had to think.  He had to figure out what JC wanted from him.  He couldn’t pay attention to JC’s body, JC’s nudity, JC’s skin on his, the weight of JC’s thigh over his, the, oh god, oh god, JC-

        “Ssshhh.”  JC kissed his temple.  “Ssshhh, Justin, it’s okay.  It’s okay.  Think about everything we talked about.  Think about everything we decided.  Think about what you need for yourself.”

        “You,” Justin said, clutching at JC with something close to anxiety.  “I need you.  You’re all I need, JC, you-”

        “Baby.”  JC kissed him, a soft, gentle kiss.  “Justin.”

        Justin opened his eyes, touching JC’s face.  “Me,” he said, and felt alone.  Cold.  Hopeless.  “I need me.”  He closed his eyes again, dropping his hand.  Fuck.  “I can’t do this.  I can’t live like this.”  This was despair.  He pushed JC away, rolling onto his side.  Fucking mattress.  Didn’t even have fucking sheets.

        “Justin-”

        “Leave me the fuck alone,” Justin snapped, not even looking.  “I don’t need you, right?  Why are we even bothering, JC?  I don’t need you anymore, and you don’t need me, so why don’t we just let it go?  Why work this hard to find this delicate little balance?”

        “Because we love each other,” JC said.  “Because we’ll work as hard as we have to, to keep this thing we have.  Because we’re married, and I’ve been a million things to you, Justin, but I was rarely ever your husband first and foremost.  I want to know what that’s like.”

        “I can’t do this,” Justin said.

        “Do you want to fuck me?” JC asked.

        It was an honest offer.  Justin did an internal check.  Yes.  Yes, he did want to fuck JC.  Take JC’s body for his own pleasure.  Make JC come.  Work out some of his frustration.  Take the lead for once and stop being so fucking vulnerable.  He opened his eyes.  “Yeah,” he said, turning to his back, sitting up.  “Facedown.”

        “No,” JC said.  “Face to face.  You’re not mad at me, Justin, and I’m not going to let you degrade me to punish either one of us.”

        “Since when did fucking you from behind become degrading?” Justin demanded.

        “Since I know what you’re thinking.”

        “You can’t read my mind.  We’re not those people anymore.”

        “We’ll always be those people,” JC said.

        “I’m not doing it face to face,” Justin said.  “I know how you get.”

        Irritation crossed JC’s features for the first time.

        Justin wasn’t proud of himself.  He looked away, resisting the urge to cover himself with his hands.

        “Will you let me suck your dick in every room in this house?” JC asked.

        “What, all in one night?” Justin asked, looking at him.

        JC smiled a little.  “For as long as you can take it.”

        JC was offering an olive branch, and Justin found himself desperately wanting to take it.  “That doesn’t sound fair,” he said.  “Maybe we should take turns.  I get to suck your dick every other room.”

        A real smile, a warm smile.  “We could get the upstairs done tonight.”

        “JC, we’ve been making love.  What’s wrong with me tonight?”

        “There’s nothing wrong with you, Justin.”  JC slid closer, pulling him in, looking into his eyes.  “We’re in our new home, we’re starting our new life, you’re feeling so many things…  We’re going to feel this way sometimes, we both are.  We just have to be careful, and look out for each other.”

        “I love you,” Justin said.  “I’m sorry, JC.  I know how hard this is on you.  I shouldn’t be making things worse.”

        “No, baby.  It’s all right.  It’s hard on both of us.  We can make it through this.  We just can’t give up.  Promise me you won’t give up.”

        Justin kissed JC’s lips, closing his eyes.  “I won’t,” he promised.  “I won’t give up.  Don’t let me.  I don’t care if it’s not supposed to, this means everything to me.”

        “I love you,” JC whispered.

        Justin wrapped his arms around JC’s shoulders and held on.

        Joey felt a hell of a lot better, himself.  Their time with JC and Justin had extended over hours and hours, and really had been like old times.  Like good times.  Joey hadn’t realized how thoroughly he’d gotten used to JC and Justin’s constant drama, until he’d found himself growing tense in anticipation of moments that never came.  He’d expected one of them to get nasty, or withdraw, or flip out, or initiate sex.  Instead, they’d behaved like normal people, the way they’d used to behave.  It might take him a while to get used to that.

        Lance was back in everyone’s good graces.  JC and Justin were normal.  It was almost too good to be true.

        It was too good to be true.  Joey had betrayed Lance, and he couldn’t hide it any longer.  He had to tell Lance, now.  If he didn’t do it now, he’d keep putting it off, and he’d never tell, and then he’d grow paranoid that Lance might find out, and then he’d have to bear the weight of a secret.  It wasn’t worth it.  He’d just tell Lance and get it over with.

        He wasn’t going to lose Lance, either.  Lance might react badly and kick him out, but he’d get Lance back.  He had to.  That wasn’t even under consideration.

        Lance sat beside him on the couch.

        “Hey,” Joey said.  He put his arm around Lance’s shoulders.  “Good day?”

        “JC gave me that ‘I have the best friends ever’ smile.  We spent hours with Justin and he acted like a rational human being.  I’ll be able to hear Brian’s name without cringing.  You and I had great sex.  I think it’s been a good day,” Lance said.

        “Great sex?” Joey asked, tightening his arm, drawing Lance closer.

        “Maybe it was just…good sex,” Lance said.

        “Good?” Joey repeated, offended.

        “Refresh my memory,” Lance said, and kissed him.  Lance’s tongue was way too familiar with Joey’s mouth, and Lance’s hand was on the side of Joey’s face, fingers stroking Joey’s beard.

        Joey tried to ignore the nagging tick of his guilty conscience.  He had to tell Lance.  But when he did tell Lance, Lance was going to be pissed, and he wasn’t going to be welcome in Lance’s bed anytime soon.  He could tell Lance after they made love.  Tomorrow morning.  He’d already waited this long; he wanted to spend one more night with Lance in his arms.  That made him sappy, not a villain.  Didn’t it?

        “Tomorrow night,” Lance said, and kissed Joey at a new angle.  “Let’s try your house and your bed.”

        Oh, god, hell, he’d wanted Lance in his bed forever.  Consciously, for a few weeks, but subconsciously, fucking forever.  Now Lance was volunteering.  He couldn’t tell Lance now!

        Lance slowly ended their kiss.  “What’s wrong?”

        Joey opened his eyes.  Lance looked a little concerned, a little teasing, mostly calm.  “What?”

        “Normally you’d have your hands all over my ass by now,” Lance said.  “That’s on a slow day.  What’s wrong?”

        Hell.  Joey couldn’t lie to Lance anymore.  It was Lance, of all people.  He’d rather lie to his own mother.  “I have to tell you something.”

        “Okay.”  A tiny frown crossed Lance’s face; then Lance sat back and waited.

        “I love you and I don’t want to lose you,” Joey said.  “I don’t.”

        “I’m not going anywhere,” Lance said.

        Joey almost wished Lance hadn’t said that.  “I…  You remember the fight we had, outside my house?  You drove off.”

        “Yeah,” Lance said.  “I acted like an idiot.”

        “I was frustrated with you,” Joey said.  “You drove me crazy, Lance, you were irrational.  I loved you, but it was hard to be with you.”

        “I made it hard on you,” Lance said.  “I wanted to make you work.”

        “I went out that night,” Joey said.  He forced himself to maintain eye contact, resisting the urge to look down.  “I met two women, and I took them home with me.”  He rushed on, not ready to give Lance an opportunity to speak, not ready to hear.  “I was wrong, I’m sorry, I know that I shouldn’t have done that.  You and I didn’t have a strong commitment, but we were still - - that’s no excuse.  I’m sorry.”

        “Joey, calm down,” Lance said.

        “The other guys knew,” Joey said.  “I wouldn’t let them tell you.  They wanted me to tell you right away, but I made them promise to give me time.  A few days.”

        “Joey, it’s not a big deal,” Lance said.  “You weren’t even my boyfriend then.  You never made me any promises.  I never promised to be faithful, either.  I didn’t trust myself that night, I knew if I went out I’d go too far, but if I’d gone out, I would have picked up somebody, too.”

        Joey stared at him.  “You’re not mad?”

        “Joey, you had sex with women.  You always have sex with women, it’s what you do.  If you go near anyone now, I won’t take it this well, but we weren’t exclusive then.  It could just as easily have been me out there that night.”

        “I thought you’d hate me,” Joey said.

        “I wish that you hadn’t done it,” Lance said.  “I wanted you to be so obsessed with me you didn’t notice anyone else.  But I never expected you to stay monogamous.  Not then.  I’ve put you through a lot of shit, Joey.  I’ve messed with your brain and your body.  It makes sense that you’d spend one night going back to old habits, just to take a break.”

        Joey pinched himself.  No, this was real.  “You’re taking this too well.”

        “I love you,” Lance said.  “What matters is that we’re together.  And if you ever cheat on me, I’ll rip your beating heart out of your chest with my bare hands and set your remains on fire.”

        Joey grinned.  That was his Lance.  “I believe you.”

        “Good.”  Lance kissed him.  “Now, if you want, you can work out your guilt by making it up to me.”

        “In bed?” Joey guessed, sliding his hand up Lance’s thigh.

        Lance kissed him again.  “All over the bed.”

        “Believe what?” Chris asked.

        “I can’t believe you…”  Howie’s voice trailed into silence.  He stepped forward, looking past the foyer.  “Chris?”

        “What?” Chris asked.  He looked over his shoulder.  “Oh, that.”

        “Oh, that?” Howie repeated.  “Oh, that?”  He walked past Chris, into the front room.  “What is this?”

        “Keep going,” Chris said, following him.

        Howie walked all around the downstairs, running his hands over chair fabric, touching lamps, staring at tables.  The front room, the sun room, the dining room, the bathroom, all of the rooms in between.  He ended up in the kitchen, touching the cabinet fronts.  “Chris.”

        “You look gorgeous when you’re in shock,” Chris said.

        “Chris,” Howie said again, turning to face him.  “What…  Our house.  Our house is…decorated.  We have…”

        Chris wanted to bounce.  He’d made Howie stammer.  He loved finding new ways to shake up Howie’s suave calm.  “Surprise.”

        “How did you do this?” Howie asked.

        “It’s not done,” Chris said.  “I got a different designer, one for each room.  I had the plans and pictures from when I was buying the house long-distance, so I handed those over.  They came in and did their work, and now we get to decide which designer should do our whole house.”

        “The sun room,” Howie said.  “Whoever did the sun room, it’s the most amazing room I’ve ever been in.  I want our whole house to feel like that.”

        “Anything you want,” Chris said.

        “You have to like it, too,” Howie said.  “Which room did you like?  Let’s walk through them again.  I can’t believe - - Chris, you did this.  You made this happen.”

        “I want you to have a house you love,” Chris said.

        “I already do,” Howie said.  “I can’t believe you did this.  Thank you.  You’re the most,” and Howie was kissing him, a series of soft kisses.  “I love our house, I love these rooms, I love these cabinets, and I love you.”

        “I love you,” Chris said.  “God, I love you.”  He twisted his fingers in Howie’s hair, having tongue sex in Howie’s mouth.  “I hate that painting in the bathroom.”

        Howie laughed.  “Why is there a painting in our bathroom?”

        “I wouldn’t mind having a painting, but it’s an ugly painting,” Chris said.

        “I have to look at everything again,” Howie said, taking his hand and walking him back around.  “Which room is your favorite?”

        “Whichever one you’re standing in,” Chris said.

        “I like this one,” Howie said, walking into the front room.  “I want lighter colors, but I like the layout.”  He squeezed Chris’s hand, looking into Chris’s eyes.  “Which room do you like?”

        “The other one,” Chris said, gesturing.  “The sunken one.  It’s funky.”

        Howie smiled.  “Do you want our house to have a certain feel to it, or do you want to have ten different decorators?”

        “We could hire one decorator, and ask her to find a way to make one room funky, one room classic, and one room minimalist, and still find a way to run a theme through it all,” Chris said.  “You’re three different people, and I’m at least ten, so it makes sense to cater to all of our tastes.”

        Howie stroked Chris’s sideburns, gazing into his eyes.  “Chris…”

        Chris grinned.  “I’ve scored major points tonight, haven’t I?”

        “Yes,” Howie said, smiling.

        “I’m getting extremely laid,” Chris said.

        “Yes, you are,” Howie said.

        “Remind me to pat myself on the back later,” Chris said, and kissed him.  Glorious, soft tongue kisses, Howie’s hands slowly pulling up his shirt in the back, his fingers burying themselves in Howie’s hair.  Chris was in love, love, love, and he knew Howie was, too, and that meant most of all.

        Now Justin was flat on his back again, and JC was licking things, and Justin was on the verge of jacking himself off if JC didn’t get back to business.  He didn’t know why he hadn’t come already, because every tiny touch of JC’s mouth had him right against the verge of orgasm.  Mostly his problem was, JC didn’t want him to come yet, and he was so damned well trained, when he knew JC wasn’t ready for him to come, he couldn’t.

        Which, at the moment, was creating him a living hell.

        Justin had been begging and pleading earlier.  Now he was suffering quietly, because he knew himself, and if he’d kept up the begging and pleading, it would have turned to screaming and clawing, and they still had a lot of rooms to go.

        JC touched the head of his dick with one testing finger.

        Justin put his fist to his mouth, whimpering around it.

        “Justin,” JC said.

        No.  He didn’t want to know.  JC was torturing him, and his body was on fire, and his dick was one raw throbbing nerve, and he didn’t want to know.

        JC raised his head, meeting Justin’s eyes.

        Justin pushed himself up onto his elbows and inched away from JC.

        JC reached for him.

        Justin crawled backwards.

        “Justin.”

        No!  Justin was backing up, trying to escape, and JC was crawling after him, right on top of him, and Justin hit the corner, and JC was right there, and Justin had nowhere to go, and JC’s mouth - - Justin screamed, coming so hard it felt like a train plowing through his body, and JC was sucking so fucking hard, Justin’s dick was coming off, and then everything was silence and shudders and JC’s hand stroking Justin’s quivering thigh.

        Justin smiled, melting into the hardwood floor.

        “What’s that smile for?” JC asked.  “You feeling good, baby?”

        “Oh, yeah.”  Justin stretched a little, opening his eyes, smiling a wicked, wicked smile.  “It’s my turn, now.”

        “Thanks,” Drew said, drifting lazily through shifting fantasies of Nick and Brian.

        “Getting married tomorrow,” Nick said.

        “Yeah,” Drew said, eyes still closed.  “Don’t worry.  I’ve done it before.  You’ll be fine.”

        Nick turned his cheek against the smooth, taut skin of Drew’s ass.  “What are you thinking about?”

        “The way your hair brushes my chin when you kiss my neck.”

        Nick smiled.

        “What are you thinking about?” Drew asked.

        “Whether or not I want to wait for Brian, or just make love to you right now.”

        Drew yawned.  “I’m okay either way.”

        “Married,” Nick said.  “We’re getting married tomorrow.”

        “Freaking out?” Drew asked.

        “A little,” Nick said.  “A lot, inside.  Fuck, Drew.  Married.”

        “Can I help with any of this freaking out?” Drew asked.

        “Drew,” Nick said, rolling onto his stomach.  “Married.”

        Drew turned his head, rolling to his side.  “C’mere.”

        Nick cuddled up against, sprawled over, and snuggled in with Drew.  Drew’s fingers threaded through his hair lazily.  “You and I make a great couple,” Nick said.

        “Yes, we do,” Drew agreed.

        “We’re not a lot alike, but we have the same interests,” Nick said.

        “Music, truth, humor, Brian’s ass,” Drew said.

        Nick laughed.

        “I’d say we are as much alike as we are dissimilar,” Drew said.

        “I’d say we have melt-down-the-walls, set-the-roof-on-fire sex together,” Nick said.

        “I trust you,” Drew said.  “I’ve trusted you from the start.”

        “You let me in when you wouldn’t let anyone else touch you,” Nick said.

        “You let me love you,” Drew said.  “I was so terribly drawn to you, and you were still suffering inside.”

        “What did you even see in me?” Nick asked.

        “Honesty,” Drew said.  “I was so afraid of who I was, I’d locked myself up inside.  You were yourself, completely yourself.  There was honesty in that.  I had great respect for that, alone.  And you were fun, you were alive, you made me laugh, you had a smile that brought out the sun.  And oh, you were so gorgeous, so sexy, so hot, so amazingly wonderful to look at, that I just wanted to touch you, and once I’d touched you, it was like a miniature orgasm every time our skin brushed.  You were incredible.  I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

        Nick nuzzled Drew’s neck.  “God, I just wanted to be with you every second.”

        “I know.  I did, too.”  Drew rubbed between Nick’s shoulder blades.

        Nick closed his eyes.

        Drew stroked Nick’s spine, closing his eyes, too.

        Brian came into the room.  He slowed down when he saw them, nearing the bed.  He watched them, eyes picking up every detail, from the rhythm of Drew’s slow caress to the blond hairs on Nick’s thigh exposed by Nick’s shorts.

        “Pixie,” Nick murmured to himself.

        Drew opened his eyes and saw Brian.  “Hi.”  He tapped Nick’s shoulder.  “How do you do that?”

        “It’s Brian,” Nick said.  He rolled across Drew, cosying up to Drew’s side, holding a hand out to Brian.  “C’mere.”

        Brian stepped out of his shoes and climbed onto the bed, piling in with them.  He rested his head on Nick’s chest, his ass tucked against Drew’s groin.  Drew’s hand slid beneath his shirt, resting on his stomach.  Brian closed his eyes and listened to the beating of Nick’s heart.

        “Tell me about Brian,” Nick said.

        “He was a mystery to me,” Drew said.  “He pulled me in, I was fascinated by him.  I wanted to understand him.  Here was this man, handsome and warm and ethical, and he’d had you, he’d had you, but he’d let you go.  I couldn’t understand how, why someone that good would do something that mean and that stupid.  What kind of person would ever give up the chance to be with you?”

        Nick stroked Brian’s cheek.

        “Then I saw the two of you together, and I knew.  Whatever had happened before that had made him break up with you, Brian regretted it.  He wanted you back.  Seeing you with me, not having you to himself, it was killing him.  And he was still being nice to me, and good to me, and I felt bad for him.  I felt so bad.  I could imagine what it was like for him.  And god, Nick, he’s so damned good-looking.”

        Nick chuckled.  “He’s a very pretty pixie.”

        “I couldn’t resist him.  I didn’t want to resist.  I wanted to get him to smile at me the way he smiled at you.  Once he did, I was hooked.  I was his.  No one could have torn me away.  Brian, just thinking about him, he gave me such a feeling of hope, of peace, of everything will be all right if I just believe, and even if I don’t.  I wanted to give him something, too.  I would have given him myself, if I’d thought that’s what he wanted.  I gave him what meant most to him, and what meant most to me.”

        “Me,” Nick said.

        “I never thought we’d be here,” Drew said.  “Like this.  I knew that the two of you belonged together.  I knew that the day would come when I’d have to say good-bye, when it would be your time again, alone.  I just couldn’t make myself leave before that day came.”

        “There is no day,” Nick said.  “It’s all three of us.”

        “I figured that out,” Drew said.

        Calm, lazy, comfortable silence.

        “Getting married tomorrow,” Nick said.

        “Mmm,” Drew said, a warm sound.

        Brian felt peace float through him at the touch of Nick’s fingers in his hair.

        “I love you,” Nick said.

        “I love you,” Drew said.

        “I love you,” Brian murmured.

        Howie rolled over, right against Chris’s body, an arm around his neck.  “Who’s there?” Howie asked, sounding halfway asleep.

        Chris gathered up an armful of Howie, kissing Howie’s shoulder.  “Lena.”

        “Mmm.”  Howie shifted deliciously, intimately closer.  “Lena who?”

        Chris curled his fingers in Howie’s hair.  “Lena little closer and I’ll give you a kiss.”

        Soft laughter.  Howie kissed him.  “Chris.”

        “Howie,” Chris said, kissing back.

        “Are you always going to be like this?”

        Chris hesitated, then told the truth.  “Yes.”

        Howie kissed him again.  “Good.”

        But he did remember someone else’s.  “I love you, Justin,” he said.

        Justin smiled, crawling up his body, settling on him familiarly.  “I know,” Justin said, and kissed his mouth.

        JC brought his fingers up to touch Justin’s soft lips.  “You’re so beautiful, baby.”

        “JC,” Justin said.  “I want to make love in every room in this house.”

        “So do I, Justin.”  Oh, he did.  He ached just thinking about it.  He ached just looking at Justin.  But then again, he always had.

        “I love you,” Justin said.  “Josh?”

        “Justin,” he said, gazing into blue eyes.

        “I know I get mean, and I know that’s not fair to you.  You’re just as frustrated as I am, just as angry and just as scared.  I can’t promise that I’ll never push you away again, but I can tell you that I’m trying hard, every day, to do this right.  We’re in this together.  I’m not alone, because I have you, and you’ll never be alone, because you’ll always have me.  Always.  I love you, JC.  This is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, so hard sometimes I think it’s all impossible and all of this is wasted effort, but…  I love you.  We’re sticking together.  We can do this.”

        “We are doing it,” JC said, wanting to hold onto him and never let go.  “Every day.  Every day counts, even if we have a setback, because we’re still trying.  We’re still working towards something.  We’ll make it, Justin, I promise.  We’re making it.”

        Justin held onto him and didn’t let go.