Copyright April 2-December 23, 2002 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: NC-17 for graphic male-male sex

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

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

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

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

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

        Chris opened his eyes.  Howie was over there, on the phone, having this hushed conversation.  Pacing a little.  Flipping his hair.  Looking good.  Howie always looked good.  And he had the prettiest smile.  So pretty...

        Chris was going to fall asleep now.

        Howie was off the phone.  What was he doing?  Undressing.

        Howie was undressing?  Chris woke up a little.  Yes, Howie was undressing.  Taking off clothes.  Stripping naked.

        Howie sat on the edge of the bed.

        Chris was tempted to put his head in Howie’s lap and lick Howie's dick until he fell asleep.  Curses.  It wasn’t fair to be tired and horny at the same time.  He wanted to be able to have sex and have sleep at the same time, but he couldn't get both.  The Simultaneous Napper-Fucker 4000 hadn't been invented yet.  Maybe he could ask Howie to do all the work, and he'd sit back and take a nap while his dick partied.  No, that wasn't fair.  Besides, if he wasn't fully coherent, which he wasn't right now, he wouldn't be able to enjoy Howie fully.  And Howie was so, so, so, so good at sex, it just wouldn't be right to miss even one little detail.

        “You look tired,” Howie said, and kissed Chris’s eyelids.  “Go to sleep.”

        Okay.  He’d go to sleep.  He wished he could fall asleep with his dick buried in Howie’s ass.  Maybe he could.  It couldn’t hurt to ask.

        Howie slid in beside him, kissing him good night, and rolled over.  Chris spooned up behind Howie.  Howie fixed the sheets a little, and Chris ever so casually poked his finger right-

        “What are you doing?” Howie asked.

        “What?”  Nothing.  Nothing at all, kind sir.  Chris wouldn't dream of touching Howie in inappropriate places.  Oh, no.  Certainly not.  God, Chris wanted Howie's ass.  Maybe he could-

        “Go to sleep.”

        Fine.  He'd sleep.  He was an adult.  He didn't have to get laid every night.  His nametag said Chris Kirkpatrick, not Justin Timberlake Chasez.  Chris closed his eyes and put an arm around Howie’s waist.

        Howie rolled over, facing him.

        Mmm.  Chris pulled Howie closer.  He didn't care that Howie could feel his hard-on.  He was always hard around Howie.  It was his own personal tribute.

        “Chris,” Howie whispered, touching his cheek.

        “Unh-hunh.”

        “Brian said that I should tell you something.  I didn’t want to, but he said that it would be better for our relationship if I did.”

        Chris was too tired to worry about the sense of impending doom.  “Unh-hunh.”

        Howie’s voice had slipped into that soft, sexy tone that tended to turn Chris to Jell-O.  “I want you to rim me.”

        Panic, shock, what?

        “You don’t have to.  Just think about it.”  Howie moved against him and Chris’s cock throbbed.  “I want to know what it’s like, and if it isn’t from you, it’ll never happen.”

        That didn’t even sound like the guilt trip it could have been.  It sounded like Chris was special to Howie.

        Howie kissed him and rolled back over, as if Chris could go to sleep after that.

        Chris was so hard he bit his tongue to keep from groaning when Howie’s ass settled against his dick.  Howie had just asked him to, asked him for, Howie had...  Maybe he’d been asleep.  Maybe he’d dreamed it.

        He’d never brought up the subject, because he wasn’t sure how socially acceptable it was.  Also, everything he did to Howie in bed, Howie did to him, and he didn’t want Howie to have to think for one second about licking his hairy ass.  But there had been too many times he’d wanted to.  Too many times he’d almost tried it.  Too many times he’d fantasized about it.  If he’d known Howie wanted it, he would’ve done it long ago.

        He tried to imagine how Howie would respond to it.  The noises Howie might make.  The way Howie’s body might move.  Could they try it now?  Right now?

        Howie was probably supposed to be on his stomach for it, or his hands and knees, with Chris behind him.  Could they do it with Howie on his back, if Chris lifted his leg?  That would be too fucking hot.

        Chris gathered Howie’s hair to one side, baring one sexy shoulder.  He kissed Howie’s neck.

        “Chris,” Howie said in a pleased sigh.

        Chris was definitely, without a doubt, attracted to Howie’s masculine qualities.  But when he was putting the moves on Howie, he still used some of his tricks from his old het days.  Maybe some things just felt good, period, whether you were male or female.

        “Chris, no, go to sleep.”

        And maybe it was fun to turn Chris down, period, whether you were male or female.

        “You need your rest.  Go to sleep.”

        Chris sulked.  He was already tired and horny; did he have to be rejected, too?

        Howie had talked to Brian about wanting Chris to rim him?  Brian knew?  How had that conversation gone?  Chris didn’t even want to think about it.  He’d be avoiding Brian for the next two weeks.

        Chris wondered if he could slide down the bed now and give it a trial run.  Do a little licking around, to try it out.

        He wondered if Lance had ever done it.  He knew JC and Justin must have.  They’d already done everything in the book, and were starting to write their own new book.

        “Howie.”

        Howie rolled over, and Chris ended up in a very close embrace.  New information: Howie was aroused.  Chris smelled Howie’s hair and stroked Howie’s silky back.  Heavens to Betsy, Howie had a good body.  “Howie.”

        Howie made a dreamy sound and rubbed his hip against Chris’s hard-on.

        Howie was asleep.  Asleep.  Why did Howie get to sleep?  Chris was the one who was on tour and had just delivered an amazing performance and had to be on TV bright and early in the morning.

        Chris ran his thumb over the hair on Howie’s chin.  Howie’s goatee always looked, and felt, softer and sexier than his.  Every time he compared himself and Howie, Howie always came out on top; but the funny part was, that never made him feel bad.  It just made him admire Howie more.  Love Howie more.  Want Howie more.

        Howie’s chest was silky smooth to Chris’s touch.  During the off-season, boy band members got a lot hairier, but while they were on the road, they were mysteriously smooth-chested.  Not that Chris ever flashed skin; but then again, he was the least sexy member of the most body-shy group.  He also had no interest in shaving his treasure trail.

        Shaving Howie’s treasure trail, now that had possibilities.

        Howie was right up against him in a full-body embrace, breathing soft and slow against his neck, asleep and dreaming.  Chris held Howie close, trying to decide if he wanted to wake Howie up for sex or not.

        He kissed Howie’s neck while he thought about it.

        Howie murmured something.

        Chris sucked on Howie’s earlobe.  Howie had nice ears.

        “Go to sleep,” Howie muttered, vaguely pushing at him.

        Chris gaped at him.  The little...  No way, there was no freaking way!  Chris flicked Howie’s shoulder.  Twice.

        No response.

        Chris put his back to Howie, keeping space between them.  He thought dark thoughts.  He wanted sex.  He wanted to get some.  He wanted to get off.  Regardless of whether or not he'd been horny earlier, now he was in bed with Howie, so of course he wanted some.  Besides that, Howie was aroused, and when Howie was aroused there was this vibe in the air, and there was definitely a vibe in this room, there was most definitely a vibe in this bed, and there was absolutely positively a vibe in Chris's dick.  But he was supposed to be quiet and let Howie sleep.

        Right.

        When he was alone, and he wanted Howie, he jacked off.  Not a permanent solution to his need, but a reasonable temporary fix.  But now, he couldn't jack off.  Number one, he'd never masturbated in front of Howie, and he wasn't going to start now.  Number two, Howie was here, right here, in his bed, seconds ago in his arms, and there would be no satisfaction in masturbation when he had Howie, beautiful Howie, naked and aroused here at his side.  He wanted to push his dick in between Howie's thighs, smell Howie's hair, feel Howie's body heat warm his skin.  He'd just been touching Howie, kissing Howie's neck, sucking on Howie's earlobe, and now his mouth wanted that back, his hands wanted-

        He heard a soft rustle of movement, and then he felt Howie all up against his back.  Howie liked to sleep twined and embracing, probably because it seemed romantic; and it wasn't like Chris minded having Howie's bare skin against him.  Howie’s leg slid against his, and Howie’s dick was hard against his ass, and Howie was breathing at the back of his neck.  Howie’s arm came around his waist, Howie’s hand splayed over his chest.

        Howie must have been having good sex dreams.  Chris wondered what kind of sex dreams.  Sex dreams about women?  Sex dreams about guys?  Sex dreams about him?  Sex dreams about sex, or sex dreams about foreplay, or sex dreams about freaky shit?

        Chris pulled away, then rolled over and put his hand on Howie’s erection.  “Howie.  Are you dreaming about me?  Are you dreaming about me?”

        “Yes,” Howie said, soft and sibilant.  His head moved on the pillow.  “Yes.”

        Chris fisted Howie’s cock.  “I love you.”

        “Mmm...yes...”

        “Howie.”

        “Mmm...oohhh...”

        “Will you marry me?”

        “Yes...oh...yes...”  Howie came, spurting semen over Chris’s fist, kicking Chris’s shin.  He relaxed, and his eyes opened a little, and he slid closer and kissed Chris.  Then he turned away again and went to sleep.

        Chris closed his hand over a fistful of cum.  He had no idea what he’d just said.  No, he knew what he’d just said; he didn’t know why he’d said it.  No, he knew why he’d said it; he just didn’t know what to do next.

        He knew what to do.  He’d pray that Howie never, ever remembered what had just happened.

        Ah!  Drew yelped, half sitting up, shocked awake.  Holy mother of - - holy...  Oh, god, no, yes...

        Without looking up or even opening his eyes, Nick raised a hand and pushed at Drew’s chest, wanting him to lay back and calm down.

        Drew could manage that.  He slid down onto his back, closing his eyes, spreading his legs.

        Nick made a hungry sound and Drew’s cock went deeper down Nick’s throat.

        Oh, ah, uh, uh...  Drew knew he should be doing something, something to make this good for Nick, something sexy or interesting, but coming in Nick’s mouth was the only thing on his mind.  Waking up to this suction was, oh, god, Nick...  Drew tried to hold still.  This was the best morning, oh, of his entire, oh, life, Nick...

        Nick sat up, wiping at his mouth.  “Good morning, Drew.”

        Drew moaned, closing his eyes again.

        “You liked that, didn’t you?” Nick asked.

        Oh, yes.  Very much.  Nick kissed him and he wrapped his arms around Nick, pulling Nick down onto his body, inviting Nick to kiss him forever.

        “Does this mean I can do it again tomorrow?”

        JC was standing with Lance, talking.  Their fingers were tangled together like they were shy high school sweethearts.

        Justin walked over and stopped a few feet away, looking at something, distracted and busy.

        “Justin,” JC said.  “What did you think about the-”

        “Oh, Lance,” Justin said, looking up and walking over like he’d just now noticed that Lance was there.  “I guess you’re pretty much over AJ.”

        “Yeah,” Lance said.  They weren’t holding hands anymore.  Because JC had seen Justin?  Because Lance had seen Justin?  Justin was about to get very pissed off at Lance.

        “That’s good, man, that’s cool,” Justin said, sticking his hands in his pockets.

        “It was kind of weird how he disappeared,” JC said.

        “It was a stunt,” Lance said.  “He wants attention.”

        “I guess he got whatever it was he wanted,” Justin said.  “He’s back.”

        Lance looked like his worst nightmare and his best fantasy had come true at the same time, and he didn’t know which one to react to.

        Justin winced a little.  Now he felt guilty.  He glanced at JC.

        “He’s back where?” JC asked, since Lance didn’t look ready to speak.

        “He just showed up on the 98 tour,” Justin said.  “He hung out with Nick.”

        “I wanted him to stick around in the first place,” JC said.  “I wanted us all to be on the same page for the Sentimental Fools.  But Brian said not to worry about it.  I guess if he says AJ will be ready to go when we hit the studio, he’s right.  Brian knows him better than I do.”

        “Is he still there?” Lance asked, looking at Justin.

        “With Nick?” Justin asked.  “I don’t think so.  I don’t know where he is, now.”

        “He wouldn’t come here, would he?” JC asked.

        Did AJ have enough sense to stay away from a place where Lance, Howie, and Chris were all together?  Justin hoped so.  Then again, since Brian and Howie were there, he might want to drop by.  And with AJ, it was never safe to guess.

        “Hey,” Nick said, making room beside himself on the sofa.  Drew sat with him.  “You should try to sleep or something.”

        “Yeah.  Nick’s talking to Brian and JC.”

        “Lucky bastard,” Nick said.

        “Are you okay?” Drew asked.

        “Yeah, why?” Nick asked.

        “You’ve barely touched me today.  I know nothing’s wrong between us, I hope nothing’s wrong between us, so what’s going on?”

        “I just thought it might be better if I’m not all over you all of the time.”

        “Better?”

        “The people on the tour don’t like me.  I don’t think they want to see me feeling on you all day.”

        Drew was surprised.  Surprised that Nick would say anything, hurt that Nick knew.  “Why do you think they don’t like you?”

        “I’ve talked to them.  I’ve heard them talking.  They don’t want me here.  This is the 98 Degrees tour, and I don’t belong here.  I mean, screw that, I belong anywhere you are.  But if they don’t want to see it, I don’t have to be in their faces with it.”

        “They’re not homophobic, Nick.  No, some of them are, but it’s-”

        “It’s not about that, Drew.  You know what I’m talking about.  You know they don’t like me.  They think I’m doing drugs.  They think I’m trying to screw Nick.  They think I’m here for publicity.”

        “You know, I know, none of that’s true.  Everyone who matters, everyone who knows you, knows that’s not true.”

        “It doesn’t even matter if it’s true.  I’m not trying to bitch about it, Drew.  I’m trying to make it easier.  And I don’t even get it.  Why don’t they want me here?  Half of these people used to be on our tours, and they liked me back then.”

        “Nick, it’s going to kill all of my pride and hurt my ego to say this.  They resent you being here because they’re jealous.  You’re right, some of these people used to be on your tours.  But now they’re here on this tour, and for them, that’s a step down.  The rest of the people are on this tour because they couldn’t get on your tour.  I’m not saying that your tour is better than ours, but it’s bigger, it’s more expensive, and it looks better on their resumes.”

        “They’re jealous?” Nick asked.  “What, I didn’t pick the crew.”

        “The other reason they don’t want you here is that it’s dangerous for you to be here.  It’s dangerous for you and me, but it’s also dangerous for them.  Bombs, stray bullets, death threats, they’re not the primary targets but they’re not any safer for it.  Nick invited you, you made the decision to come, and I’m happy to have you here.  But security’s tighter, we’re all more aware, and everyone knows why.”

        “Because of me,” Nick said.

        “Yes,” Drew said.

        “I’m not going onstage, I haven’t talked to the press, I’m trying to stay low,” Nick said.

        “I know,” Drew said.  “And I know that they see that, too.”

        “I’m sorry you had to admit that the Backstreet Boys are better than 98 Degrees,” Nick said.

        “I never said that,” Drew said.  “I never will say that, because it’s not true.”

        “How is it not true?” Nick asked.  “We sell more albums, we sell more seats on tour, we sell more merchandise, we have more hits, our hits are on the charts longer, we look better, we dance better, we sing better, we make better videos, we-”

        “You have bigger egos.”

        “Bigger what?  Have you met your brother?”

        “Have you met AJ?”

        “Nick is worse than AJ.”

        “What about Kevin?”

        “Kevin doesn’t have a big ego.  That’s just Backstreet pride.”

        “You do not sing better than we do.  And we have some great videos.”

        “Funny how ‘Was It Something I Didn’t Say’ looks a lot like ‘I’ll Never Break Your Heart.’”

        “What?  It does not!”

        “Right.  Look at Kevin, his room, and his girl, and then look at Justin, his room, and his girl.”

        “You’re full of it.  They’re nothing alike!  That’s like comparing ‘We’ve Got It Goin’ On’ with ‘I Want You Back’ because they both have pool tables!  Ours was made first, anyway.”

        “No, it wasn’t.”

        “When was yours made?”

        “Nineteen ninety, um, something.  When was yours made?”

        Drew frowned.  “I don’t know.”

        “After ours.”

        “You don’t know that,” Drew said.

        “We’ve been around since before you had abs.”

        “We’ve been around since before you were born.”

        “No fair making age comments.  Wait, which one was ‘I Want You Back?’”

        “Justin’s playing basketball, JC’s in a car with a girl...”

        “Isn’t that ‘Tearin’ Up My Heart?’”

        “No, that’s the other one.”

        “Then which one’s the one where - - wait, they’re playing basketball in that other video.”

        “What?” Drew said.

        “I’m lost.”

        Drew kissed him.

        “What was that for?”

        “Some of the people on this tour love you,” Drew said.

        “Really?” Nick asked.  Drew kissed him some more, sliding closer.  “Like who?”

        “Like me,” Drew said, closing his eyes, licking Nick’s lips.

        “Is it ‘Tearing Up My Heart’ or ‘Tearin’ Up My Heart?’”

        “What?” Drew asked, pulling back.

        “Tearing or tearin’?”

        “Is it ‘We’ve Got It Goin’ On’ or ‘Going On?’” Drew asked.

        “‘Goin’,’” Nick said.  “We were very cool, cutting-edge back then.”

        “Very hip,” Drew agreed.

        “You guys were never that cool.”

        “We’re cool now,” Drew said.

        “We have AJ,” Nick said.  “You’re already at a disadvantage.”

        “I am way cooler than AJ,” Drew said.

        “No, you’re way shorter than AJ.”

        “I’m way shorter than you,” Drew corrected.  “AJ’s about Nick’s height, so I’m kind of close.”

        “Midget.”

        “You’re going to look pretty funny after I shave you bald next time you bring up my height,” Drew said.

        “Yeah, but I’ll still have fabulous booty,” Nick said.

        “That’s not fair,” Drew said, moving in for another kiss.

        “And I’ll still have a lickable nose.”

        “So not fair,” Drew protested, sliding an arm around Nick’s shoulders to pull himself in.

        Nick whispered, “And I’ll always have very suckable balls.”

        Drew moaned.

        “Am I interrupting?” Justin asked.

        “Yes,” Nick said around Drew’s tongue.

        “Sorry.  Drew, we’re ready.”

        Nick broke off the kiss.  Between the desire-glazed eyes and the wet lips, Drew looked ready for more.  “This hurts me more than it hurts you,” Nick said.  “You have to go to work.”

        “It’s time for me to go to work y’all,” Justin chanted.  “What kind of work?  Hard work!”

        Nick stared.  “Where did you hear that?”

        Drew turned red, pushing himself up.  “They need me at the, I’d better go.  When we’re finished, I’ll,” he kissed Nick’s cheek and left.

        “Where-”

        “There’s a tape, someone bought it for him - - I have to go.”  Justin disappeared.

        “They’re so weird,” Nick said.

        Room 263.  Now.  JC.

        What?  This was way too reminiscent of the old days, back when they'd picked up girls.  These were the notes their groupies used to...

        Oh.  It hit Justin hard, socked him right in the stomach.  Oh.  Oh, god.

        He'd gotten the invite.

        Justin got in the elevator and pushed the button without thinking.  He read the paper again. Room 263.  Now.  JC.

        JC had asked for him.  JC wanted him.

        The weird, twisting butterflies in his stomach were stupid, this was stupid, it was all pretend.  He'd admitted to something he should have kept to himself, and now JC was trying to give it to him, but it would never work.  He wasn't a groupie, he wasn't a horny little fan boy, he was JC's own freaking husband.  This was ridiculous.  He was Justin Timberlake Chasez, for crying out loud, and JC-

        -JC was a rock star, forceful and commanding, a rock star sex god with presence and superiority, and he would be the luckiest person alive if he were the one JC picked tonight.  All he'd ever wanted for so long now was to be given a chance to be the one JC used.

        No, no, that was stupid, he was being stupid, he had sex with JC every night.

        But he'd never had sex with rock star JC, he'd never been used like that, he'd never been the body JC got off in.  He'd seen JC up there onstage, he'd watched, and he had known, just known, that it would be an incredible life-changing experience to be with JC.  The way JC was up there, no one else was like that, no one else could do that, and what could JC be like in bed?  He couldn't imagine it.

        He was about to experience it.

        Firsthand.

        In the hallway now, rock-hard, Justin tried to finger-comb his curls, straightening his T-shirt, wishing he'd dressed for this.  What should he do?  Just go up and knock on the door?  What if JC didn't know what he was there for?  Should he introduce himself?  Why would JC care who he was?  He didn't matter to JC, he wouldn't matter; to JC, he was just a handy alternative to masturbation.

        What was JC going to want?  A blowjob?  Suddenly weak in the knees, feeling a little dizzy, Justin put one hand against the wall, trying not to grab his dick.  A blowjob.  JC's dick.  JC's erection.  He was going to see it.  He was going to feel it.  He was going to taste it.  He was going to put his hand on JC's dick, he was going to put his mouth on JC's erection, he was going to...  JC, JC, it was J freaking C.

        What if he got to call him Josh?  To his face?!

        No, no, god, back up.  He couldn't do that.  God.  Too far.

        Okay.

        He could do this.

        He couldn't show up at JC's door with a hard-on.  He'd look young and stupid and JC wouldn't want him.  JC didn't want an amateur fool.

        He had to make it good for JC.  That was all that mattered.  He had to make it good, so JC would like it, so he wouldn't waste JC's time.

        JC was waiting!  He was keeping JC waiting!  Oh, god, damn, where was 263?  JC might have gotten bored, or picked someone else, or even left by now!  What if - - 263.  There it was.  The room.  The door.  JC was in there.  JC.  JC Chasez.  The one.  The One.

        Justin was sweating too hard.  He wiped his face with one hand, then wiped his hand on his pants.  Did he smell?  Did he look okay?  Was-

        He knocked.  Had he knocked too hard?  What if-

        JC Chasez opened the door.

        God.  He was so even more fucking beautiful than Justin had ever seen anyone be...

        "Dante found you," JC said, backing up.  "Come in, lock the door."  JC turned and walked away from him, and Justin couldn't believe this was really happening.  He was in JC's hotel room.  Invited.  Alone.

        He came in and closed the door, locking it, trying to get his brain to focus.  He had to play it cool.  He had to do this right.  He'd never get this ever again, so for this one time, everything had to be perfect.

        When he looked again, JC was picking stuff up off of the bed, papers.  Skinny, JC was so skinny, but Justin could see muscle, tight hard muscle, man muscle.  JC's shirt was sleeveless, and Justin watched the muscles of his upper arm.  He wanted to lick JC's upper arm.  He wanted to lick JC's underam, too.  He saw JC's underarm hair, and his cock twitched.  He was breathing too hard, and he knew it.

        Jeans.  Just jeans, normal jeans, like anybody wore, like Justin was wearing.  JC was normal, a real person, or JC thought he was normal, JC thought he was a real person, and how could JC not know better?  How could JC think that he was a regular human being, when he wasn't, obviously he wasn't, he never had been and never could be.  At some point JC had been a little kid in fourth grade, and at some point JC had forgotten to pay his phone bill, and he ordered food at the McDonald's drive-thru and he bought clothes off the rack and he shaved every day, just like everyone, living his ordinary life, and it was incredible to Justin, it was inconceivable, it was so wrong and so real at the same time.

        Naked.  His feet were naked.  He was wearing a toe ring, right there on his right foot, his middle toe, and Justin wanted to worship it.

        He was wearing nail polish, too.  On his toes.  It was glittery, and it sparkled a little when he moved.  It was a detail.  Justin knew details.  He was going to leave here, and go to a store, and buy glossy nail polish with glitter in it, and kiss the bottle, and love JC with all of his heart.  He would keep the bottle forever, to remember this day.

        JC had finished clearing off the bed.

        He was going to get to use the bed?  Oh, god, Justin would have been happy with the floor, but the bed, the bed...  It wasn't for his comfort, it was for JC's, but it meant more than a blowjob, it meant sex, JC was going to fuck him.

        Bracelets, wristbands, Justin wanted to touch JC's wrists, rub his fingers over the "fuck me, I'm gay" jewelry.  JC was gay, JC acted gay and looked gay and talked gay and lived gay, JC was so gay it was practically flaunted, but at the same time JC was quiet about it, unassuming, kept it personal and humble the way JC kept everything else.  Justin had always admired him for that, for the way that for JC, being gay was like being white or being male or being anything, it was natural and part of him and nothing he ever needed to talk about because it just was, and it was part of existence.

        There was a thin, dark line at JC's neck, and Justin felt hot all over just at seeing it.  The necklace.  JC's necklace.  The Leo pendant on the thin leather strap.  JC wore it every day.  It was there, against JC's skin, every day.  It had been for years.  Justin couldn't believe it.  It was JC's necklace.  It was JC's hotel room.  This was really, truly, live and in person, JC Chasez.

        He tried not to scream.

        He couldn't act like a fan, he couldn't.  JC didn't care about that.  JC wasn't here for him to act like a crying little fan boy who knew all of the words and owned all of the posters and kept a scrapbook.  JC wasn't here to sign autographs or to listen to his "Why I Love JC" ramble.  JC was here to get off, and if he didn't do it right, JC would ask him to leave.

        That couldn't happen.  No.  He couldn't leave.  Not now.  Not after coming this close!  This close to everything.  This close to JC.  He'd keep his mouth shut, unless JC wanted it open for a blowjob.

        JC looked at him, checking him out, kind of interested.  Justin tried to stand up straighter.  "Are you a big fan?" JC asked.

        "Yes!" Justin said.  Shit!  "Yeah."  He swallowed.  He was starting to sweat again.

        JC looked kind of amused.  "Really?  How big?"

        "More than anybody.  I know you hear that a lot, I know you get that all of the time, but I mean it, I'm your biggest fan, I don't know how much they tell you they love you but I love you more."

        "Really."  JC was walking closer.  "How much do you love me?"

        "So much," Justin said, and his voice was shaking a little.  "I love you so much, I think about you all of the time, I dream about you, just looking at you makes me..."

        "Makes you what?"  JC was so beautiful he was hurting Justin.

        "I love you," Justin whispered.

        "Prove it."

        "I'll do anything," Justin promised, knotted inside from his love.

        JC pulled his shirt off over his head.  Justin could see his pecs, his nipples, his abs, his necklace.  JC's naked upper body.  Slender and tight.  His navel.  A slim line of brown hair trailing down behind his fly.

        Justin's cock was throbbing and hard.

        JC opened his fly and took off his pants.

        JC's legs.  JC's thighs.  JC's underwear.  The soft bulge where JC's cock and balls were.  Justin was on his knees.

        JC slowly, slowly lowered his underwear.  Inch by inch.  Pubic hair, coarse and brown.  The crease of his hip.  Skin.  Everything.  Justin was on his hands and knees, slowly coming forward, drawn, before JC's boxer-briefs hit the floor.

        JC stroked himself with one lazy hand.  He was half-hard, and Justin was leaning in for it, lips parted, eyes glazed with desire.

        "What's your name?" JC asked, his palm rubbing up and down the shaft.

        "Justin," Justin said, wanting JC's cock.

        "Do you want me, Justin?"

        JC had said his name.  He fought back giddy, dizzy feelings.  He was almost getting used to the hard, hot, full pain from wanting to come.  "Yes, yes, I want you, I've always wanted you."

        "Tell me how much you want me."

        "I want you so much I dream about wanting you.  I fantasize about you.  I jerk off thinking about you."

        "Tell me your fantasies.  What can you do for me?"

        "I want to be your bottom boy.  I want you to fuck me and take me and use me.  You don't have to be nice to me or good to me, you can hurt me if you want, I don't care.  I want you to come in my mouth.  I don't want to make you feel good because I can't, you make yourself feel good, I just want to be there for you to come on."

        "You're a bottom boy?"

        "For you."

        "Do you deep throat?"

        "For you."

        "You look like a little boy head-licker."

        "I'll be anything you want me to be."

        "Suck my dick, Justin."  JC let go of it and waited.

        Justin whimpered, leaning in, and licked at the shaft.  He whimpered again, trying to believe it.  It was JC.  This was JC, and this was JC's dick.

        He closed his eyes.

        This was his chance.

        This was his fantasy.

        This was JC.

        He would never have this opportunity again.  He was going to give it everything he had, not for JC, but for himself, so that when he left this room he could say that he'd given the best blowjob of his life to JC Chasez.  There was no way he could half-ass this thing.  It was JC, and JC deserved his very best.

        Justin opened his eyes and straightened his back, looking up JC's body to JC's eyes.  He couldn't read JC's look at all.  "Can we do this on the bed?"

        JC stepped back.  "Yes."  He walked backwards to the bed, letting Justin watch, and then got on his back, head on the pillows, one knee cocked.  "Show me you're my biggest fan."

        Justin came closer, kneeling on the bed, in between JC's thighs.  He was still fully dressed, but this wasn't about his body, so it didn't matter.  He slid down until he was on his stomach, and then licked right where JC's thigh met JC's groin.  It tasted clean, with traces of sweat and musk, and this was what JC tasted like.  He licked into JC's pubic hair, mouthing JC's balls, massaging with his tongue.  He tried to memorize everything, the feel of this intimate skin, the soft swell of JC's sac, the muscle in JC's thigh.

        He could have stayed there forever.

        Justin hitched himself up just a bit and put his weight on one arm, raising his other hand.  JC's cock was harder now, fuller, stretching up towards JC's navel.  Justin licked his hand and put his palm on it, rubbing it, admiring it.  He'd always wanted to touch JC's cock.  It was as beautiful as JC himself, not too thick, not too long, aiming straight, and he had to stop touching it just to lick up the underside.  He put his mouth to the base and sucked the skin there, closing his eyes.  He worked his way up, up to the head.  He caught a trickle of precum on his tongue, savoring it, moaning just a little because he had to, because it was JC.

        Justin fit his lips over the head and relaxed his throat, sliding down on JC's cock, swallowing it to the base.  He pulled off, soft and wet as possible, and went down again, cupping JC's balls in one hand, taking JC down his throat.  He did it again, fisting the shaft with his other hand every time he backed off to suck on the head, tasting JC's precum thick and salty, going faster, JC's pulse beating against his tongue, JC's scent filling him.  He couldn't take it, he had to back off entirely and take JC's balls in his mouth, sucking on them, drooling on JC's pubic hair, licking JC's precum and his own spit up the shaft of JC's erection, slurping on the head of JC's cock like he was four and it was candy, it was candy, it was JC and this was JC and he was on JC's dick, swallowing it down his throat, moaning for it, creaming his pants for it, sucking and humming and sucking and licking and sucking and jacking and sucking until JC came down his throat, filling his mouth, spilling over his chin.

        Justin swallowed as greedily as he could, licking his lips, licking his fingers, licking JC's sensitive softening cock.  He lapped up JC's cream, and when he couldn't find anymore, he lapped up JC's sweat.

        He was burrowing in between JC's thighs again, sucking on JC's pubic hair, dreaming of letting his tongue flutter against - - when he felt fingers plucking at his curls.

        JC.  Justin licked his lips, raising his head.  He made eye contact.

        "You want to lick it, don't you?"  JC's voice knew him.

        Lick what?  Oh.  Yes.  Oh, god, hell, yes, yes, "Yes."

        "You say you're my number one fan."

        "Yes."

        "Tell me things."

        He did.  He told JC all that he'd learned over years of intense study: JC's birthday, the names of people in JC's family, all of the songs on the American albums in order, plus which songs were on the European and Asian albums that weren't on the American ones, which seasons JC had been in the Micky Mouse Club, the address of where he'd used to live with his parents, the names of his old schools, where he lived now, why he didn't have a zillion tattoos like the other guys did, his favorite color, his favorite foods, why he always wore his necklace-

        "This necklace?" JC asked.

        "Yes," Justin said.

        "You can look at it."

        Justin crawled up the bed, up JC's body, careful not to rub against JC without being asked.  He looked at the pendant.

        "You're such a big fan, you can kiss it, if you want."

        If he wanted?  Justin wiped his mouth, so he wouldn't get anything on it, and then lowered his head and pressed a kiss to JC's Leo.  He kissed it again.  It was JC's.  He licked it, flicking his tongue under it to lift it into his mouth.  It was warm from JC's heat.  He let it go and tasted the thin strap.  Leather.  JC.  He sucked on the leather, leaning in towards JC's neck, smelling JC, tasting the leather, wanting JC.  He found the knot where it was tied, and sucked it between his teeth, chewing on it, moaning, wanting, his cock growing harder in the wet heat of his pants where he'd already come for JC.  He was already so close to JC, over JC's nude body, his hands fisting in the bedsheet with anxious greed, his face against JC's neck, that he let the leather knot fall from his mouth and sucked on JC's skin, instead.

        "Justin."

        Justin shot up, backing away, flushed with shame.  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I won't."

        "You won't what?" JC asked, firmly in control, leaning up on one elbow.

        "I won't touch you without permission again."

        "Do you want to touch me?"

        "Yes."  He lowered his eyes.

        "Do you like to touch me?"

        "Yes."

        "Do you want to lick it?"

        "Yes."

        "Do you want to stay here long enough for me to fuck you?"

        "Yes."

        "I'll let you lick it before I fuck you."

        Justin's heart beat faster.

        "First...  Tell me what you like about me."

        He did.  He told JC everything.  He told JC all about his obsessive, lusting love for the way JC talked, the way JC moved, the way JC sang, the way JC danced, the way JC looked.  The obvious things, the details, the secret pleasures, his body's reactions.  It was his most thorough, impassioned, "Why I Love JC" speech ever, from every last Rock Star "I'd fuck you if you were lucky, and since I'm very nice I just might, but personally I'm so damned hot I'd rather just fuck myself because I alone am worthy" attribute to the way JC's top front teeth should have been a flaw but only made Justin want him more.

        JC picked up one of the pillows, setting it on the middle of the mattress and rolling onto his stomach, adjusting the pillow comfortably under his hips.  He closed his eyes, resting there like a young, hedonistic god, and bent one knee, exposing sacred territory.

        Justin breathed.

        JC had a beautiful back.  His ass was perfectly tight, and Justin's fingers trembled at the thought of touching it.  And right...there...  Justin felt faint.  It was JC.  This was JC.  JC's body.  JC's back.  JC's thighs.  JC's ass.  JC, JC Chasez, the one up on that stage, the one who made Justin's cock twitch every time he sang in that certain sexfuck way, JC, JC here in this bed with him.

        Justin licked.  Right there.  Right where JC had asked him to.  Right where his tongue wanted to be.

        There were things, things about JC and fantasies and sex and JC sex fantasies, cravings and lustings and obsessions, in Justin's head.  They started to take over.  At first he was merely licking, licking the way he'd only done in his darkest fantasies, licking the way JC had asked.  Then his tongue started to make gentle little probes, curious and testing.

        Then he started to fuck JC with his tongue.  This was not licking, not gentle or tentative; this was fucking, wanting and taking, acting on cravings he'd never thought would see the light of day.  By the time he realized that the fantasies in his head and the things he was doing in real life were not as far apart as he'd imagined them to be, he was fucking JC with the hard muscles of his tongue, breaching JC's body, making sharp, hungry noises.

        He wanted more.

        He brought his hands up, spreading JC, opening JC, fucking in wet and eager.  This was better.  Now he was doing everything he could, licking and fucking and kissing and sucking and lost, moaning in greedy, awed ways.  It was JC, JC in places he'd never ever ever thought he'd ever ever get to touch.

        JC's heel pushed at his hip.

        Justin backed off immediately, sitting up and retreating to the foot of the bed.  He licked his lips and tried to act cool.

        JC rolled over, lounging casually, looking at him.  "If you love me as much as you say you do..."

        "I do," Justin promised with all of his heart.  JC's body was so perfect, so beautiful, that he looked very natural completely naked.  JC was hard, too.  Justin couldn't believe that he'd had touched it, much less had that in his mouth.  JC had come down his throat.  JC!

        "...then you wouldn't want to put me in any danger."

        "No!  No, never," Justin said, appalled.

        "Are you clean?"

        "Yes.  Yes."

        "Are you sure?"

        "Yes, yes."

        "You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Justin?"

       "No!  No, I swear, I promise, I don't have anything.  I'm very safe, very, all of the time."

        "All right."  JC's eyes ran over him.  JC was looking at him.  Justin tried to breathe normally.

        Oh, holy freaking god.  JC was looking at his hard-on.  Justin hoped it was good enough to pass inspection.

        JC's foot, the right foot, with a toe ring and a perfect pedicure, lifted from the mattress and nudged Justin's knees apart.  Justin spread his thighs, trying not to freak out.  JC's foot came up, toes nudging his groin.  Justin tried not to come.  Oh, god, it was JC, he couldn't do this, he couldn't handle this, he had to scream or faint or come or something, god, anything!  JC, with perfect composure, not caring what Justin was going through, put the arch of his foot over Justin's hard-on and pressed.

        Justin came, gasping, trying to stay quiet, shocked out of his mind.  JC had made him come.  JC had made him come.  JC.  JC!  JC Chasez, here tonight in this room in this bed in his favorite fucking hotel ever, where he was going to have his ashes scattered after he died, had made him come.  On freaking purpose.

        Oh, hell, Justin might as well die tomorrow, because it did not get any better than this.

        JC drew his foot back and sat up more.  "Take down your pants and get on your stomach."  He got up, naked and not giving a damn, and unzipped one of his bags.

        One of his bags. JC's bags.  Justin wanted to know what was in there, what did JC own, what did JC take on tour.  He wanted to steal something, to have something of JC's, but he could never steal from JC.

        Take down your pants.  Take down, not take off.  Justin opened his fly and pulled his jeans, along with his soaked shorts, down to his knees.  He lay down on his stomach, putting the same pillow under his hips that JC had used for this purpose.  His dick was in the same place JC's had been.  He pushed himself into it a little, fucking the place where JC had lain.

        The mattress dipped with JC's weight.

        Justin tried not to scream with excitement as though JC had just humped the stage.

        JC touched him.  JC had barely touched him all of this time, and now, now JC was...JC...  Justin closed his eyes up tight and balled his fists.  He could do this.  He could take this.  He could handle this.

        JC gently, but definitely, smacked his ass.  "Relax."

        Justin cursed himself out for upsetting JC, and relaxed as best he could.  He wanted to be a good place for JC to get off, not a disappointing one.  He spread his legs some more and pushed himself up a little, angling his hips.

        JC was putting cool, slick lube in his ass.  He tried to let it happen, he tried to relax, he tried to be good for JC, but it was too much.  He couldn't handle this.  He was sweating and shaking and trying to hold it all in.  The worst part was, JC wasn't as good as he'd dreamt.  JC was better.  JC was so fucking good at this, Justin could almost swear his poor twice-spent dick was still spitting cum.  It wasn't fair, it was too much, too good, more than a fantasy come true, worse than every dream becoming reality.

        "Since you're such a good fan," JC said, making his major organs quiver, "I'll fuck you the way I fuck all of my very best fans."

        JC.  Was going.  To fuck him.  Justin couldn't so much as whimper, because if he made one sound, if he moved one muscle, he'd scream.

        JC could read his mind.  "Go ahead and scream.  Everyone always does."  JC pulled his hips back, putting him where JC wanted him, and then JC thrust into him.

        Justin screamed.

        JC fucked him like a pro.  Deep, even, pounding strokes, right on rhythm, gentle enough not to hurt but hard enough to make him feel it over every inch of his body.  He could feel JC right behind him, JC's chest warm hard muscle at his back, sweating through his shirt against him.  JC's cock felt so big, so powerful, that every forceful thrust had him devastated more than the last, hit after hit leaving him completely open and exposed.  He was sobbing, and he knew it, and he couldn't stop.  He wasn't hurt, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared, he was happy, happy and overwhelmed.  It was JC.  He was having sex with JC in JC's hotel room because JC had wanted him enough to ask for him.

        JC had noticed him.

        Maintaining a fluid rhythm in his hips, JC put his chin on Justin's shoulder.  "Justin," he whispered.

        Justin sucked back tears and tried to answer.

        JC gave an extra hard thrust, followed by a satisfied groan right in his ear, sparking shocked vibrations all down Justin's spine.  "I like your ass, Justin.  It looks pretty and it feels good."

        Justin gasped, having so many internal, emotional, physical reactions to JC's words that he couldn't say anything.  JC had said his name and JC liked his ass and JC was whispering in his ear and JC was fucking him and-

        JC licked the shell of his ear.

        Justin shuddered, twisting, on sensory and psychological overload.

        "Are you my biggest fan, Justin?"

        "Yes, yes, yes," Justin said, whispering it once for every thrust, not knowing how to stop.

        JC fucked him faster.  "What would you do for me?"

        "Anything," Justin promised, trying to hold back another scream.

        "Why?"

        "I love you," Justin said, tears running down his cheeks, hips rocking against JC's thrusts, feeling something like an orgasm but more like pure obsessive lusting needing mindless love welling up inside.

        "Why?" JC demanded, fucking him harder, harder, harder, harder until he cried out, harder until he screamed, harder until he couldn't scream anymore and he was a wreck, sobbing and wasted, limp and destroyed, and JC had come in him and left him.

        JC rolled him over, onto his back.  He opened wet eyes and answered the question.  "You're JC."

        JC kissed him.  He let JC plunder his mouth, using him and taking from him, because it was JC, because in his whole life all he'd ever wanted to be was used by JC.  He had enough strength to whimper a little, because it was so good to be kissed by JC he couldn't summon a scream.

        "I'm finished," JC whispered against his mouth.

        Justin hurt all over, in places deep inside his heart he hadn't known existed until JC.

        JC got up.

        He was dismissed.  Justin stood, pulling his pants back up fast so he wouldn't waste JC's time.

        "Was there anything else you wanted?" JC asked, casually putting on a robe that had been draped over a chair.

        "All I wanted was to give you something," Justin said, his voice so soft it sounded broken.  "I already gave you everything I have."

        JC reached for something on the keyboard.  A pen.  "Come here."

        Justin walked over to him.  JC turned him around and knelt, pushing up his shirt.  JC wrote something on his lower back, then rose and stepped away.

        Justin twisted to see it in the mirror.  JC's name.  JC Chasez.  JC had signed him.

        Justin looked around, one last look, begging himself to remember it all because he'd never have it again.

        JC wanted him to leave, so he left.

        "I love you," he whispered to the door.  Then he walked away.

        Lance turned around and threw up.

        “Whoa,” Joey said.  “Can somebody get me a napkin and a taxi?”

        Lance didn’t say anything on the way back to the hotel.  Joey took him up to his room and went in with him.  Lance cracked open the mini-bar, got another drink, took off most of his clothes, and dropped onto the bed.

        Joey stretched out beside him, looking up at the ceiling.  “What sucks?”

        “Life,” Lance said.

        Joey waited for Lance to be more specific.

        Lance said it like it hurt.  “Alexander James McLean.”

        Joey borrowed Lance’s bottle and had a drink himself.

        “I thought it was over this time,” Lance said.  “I thought he was gone, I was past it, that was it.  All Justin had to say was, ‘He’s back,’ and there was this angry need in my gut telling me to go to him, be with him.  Something in me still wants to grab onto him.  Like I still need him.”

        “You don’t need him,” Joey said.  It was the only thing he could think of to say that didn’t involve yelling and swearing.

        “I thought it was over,” Lance said.  “What if it’s never over?”  He sounded scared, and angry.

        Joey was scared and angry, too.  How had Lance gotten into this position?  Lance didn’t deserve this.  Lance didn’t deserve to be hurt and used.  Lance’s love had been wasted, and that was so wrong it hurt.

        “I don’t even know if I love him anymore,” Lance said.  “All I know is, I still want to be with him.”

        “You’re too good for him,” Joey said.

        “I thought it was over,” Lance said again.  “And then Justin said...  And I thought, what if he’ll take me back?”

        “You aren’t going back to him,” Joey said.  He said it too hard, too forcefully, but Lance didn’t notice.

        “He was the best thing I ever had,” Lance said.  “Where am I ever going to find that again?”

        “You’ll have better,” Joey said.  “You deserve better, and you’ll get better.”

        “Where?” Lance asked.  “I’ve been looking, and I don’t-”

        “You’ve been looking in the wrong places,” Joey said.  That was as close as he was going to get to mentioning JC.

        “You and Chris have been talking about fixing me up,” Lance said.  “Right now, all I can say is, do it and do it fast.  I need something to keep me stable.”

        To keep him from going back to AJ.

        “He showed up for one night, to talk to Nick.  He’s gone again.  He could be anywhere.  He could be on another continent.  He could be close.  He could be right here in this city.”

        “He could be in Hell.”

        “I’m in Hell.”

        Joey turned his head and looked at Lance’s profile.  His voice came out steady and strong, with the weight of meaning behind each word.  “If he hurts you again, I’ll hurt him.”

        “I hurt him, too,” Lance said.

        “Bullshit,” Joey snapped.

        Lance laughed.  “God, Joe.”

        Joey rolled to one side and put his head on Lance’s shoulder.  His hand came up on the other side of Lance’s face, and his thumb wiped away Lance’s tears.

        Lance sighed.  “I wish I knew he still loved me.  I wish I even knew he still thought about me.”

        “He’s thinking about himself,” Joey said.  “That’s all he’s thinking about.”

        “Was he in love with Kevin?”

        “Kevin was in love with him,” Joey said.  “That’s all AJ cared about, having someone want him.”

        “I wanted him,” Lance said.  “Why wasn’t that enough?”

        “You were sick of his shit,” Joey said.  “He wanted someone new who was still impressed.”

        “If I weren’t here, on the road, I’d go and find him.”

        “No, you wouldn’t,” Joey said.

        Lance rubbed his forehead.  “No, I wouldn’t.”

        JC got off the phone and rose, coming over and kissing Justin's mouth.  "Baby, where have you been?"

        "Out, taking care of something," Justin said.  "Are you getting good writing done?"

        JC's eyes sparkled blue.  "Baby, I got inspired and hit a whole new stride."

        Justin tried not to blush too red.  "Good."

        "Are you all right?" JC asked.  "When you came in, you walked a little different."

        Only JC would have noticed.  "I'm fine, JC."

        "Are you sore?  Did I-"

        "No, JC, it's not that.  It's never that."  JC would rather cut off his dick than hurt Justin, and they both knew it.  "I just got a new tattoo."

        "You did?  You promised me no more.  You promised me, baby, I can't stand to see you hurt."

        "This one's different."

        "A tattoo is a tattoo, and your body is more than beautiful already."

        Speaking of tattoos, "How did you cover up..."

        JC smiled a little, looking almost bashful.  "I got some make-up that doesn't rub off, only soap can get it off.  I didn't want..."

        Justin lifted JC's left hand and kissed JC's wedding ring.

        JC kissed him.

        That was all Justin had to say about that, at least for right now.  It was still too new, and everything was still settling back into place.  Reality still felt unbalanced and uncertain.

        "No more tattoos," JC said.

        "All right," Justin said.  Yeah, there was reality.  Overprotective JC.

        "Promise me."

        "I already broke the promise."

        "Promise me again."

        "Fine.  I promise I won't get another tattoo for the rest of my life."

        "What is it?"

        "That's none of your business.  You can see it when I want you to.  It hurts and it's still healing."

        "I can't stand to see you in pain, baby."

        "There's nothing you can do about it.  You can't go beat up random tattoo artists.  Come on, let's go to bed."  Justin kissed JC again and went to brush his teeth.

        Here came the delicate part.  He didn't want sex.  Any sex.  At all.  Not tonight.  Not for a while.  Not after...that whole thing.  His mind was still twisted around, and pieces of him were still back there, and he didn't want to make love with JC until he'd separated out things in his head.  Of course, having sex with JC while his brain was screwed up always ended up being really, really good, as he knew from repeated experience, but still...not right now.

        Was he going to have to explain that to JC, or would JC accept it and leave it alone?

        Justin got into bed first, in his underwear and a T-shirt.  He always slept naked, so the whole clothes factor would be a big cue to JC.

        JC, ass naked, got in and reached for him.

        "JC-"

        "No, baby, it's all right, just let me, ssshhh, baby," and JC held his hands to keep him still, brushing a tender kiss over his lips.  "I love you, baby.  I love you-"

        "Don't...don't say it."  He closed his eyes, feeling something cut into him at having broken into JC's words of love; but he couldn't, he just couldn't hear JC say his name right now, and he knew that was what had been coming next.

        "I won't," JC promised.  "You let me know when you're back, baby.  I'm always waiting for you."

        He surrounded himself in JC's embrace, closing his eyes and feeling JC's love, until he felt JC's bracelets against his back and felt the leather of JC's necklace against his cheek.  JC was naked, wearing only this.  Just like before.  Just like...  He pushed JC away, rolling over.

        JC let him go.

        Justin curled up on himself, closing his eyes, remembering everything, every second of every sensation, his hand in his shorts fisting over his dick until he came, and came again.

        He was in love with Howie.  Howie was in love with him.  Howie had proposed once, but with incredibly bad timing.  They’d agreed, since then, that Howie was allowed to propose again at some point in the future, as long as he had Chris’s permission to do so.

        Therefore, it was accepted, between them, that marriage was a possibility.

        The other night, Chris had been caught up in the moment.  He’d been tired, and his brain had been confused.  He’d wanted Howie, Howie had been sexy, he’d been making Howie come, that whole thing.  It had been the sex talking.  He hadn’t meant it.  All guys said stuff they didn’t mean during sex.  He’d overheard Justin tell JC stuff that he knew Justin would never say out of bed.

        Howie was sort of overwhelming, anyway.  In bed, when things were getting really hot, of course Chris would say something crazy like “Will you marry me?”  He’d offered to bear Howie’s love child more than once.

        Even if Howie had heard him, which Howie hadn’t, and even if Howie remembered what he’d said, which Howie didn’t, Howie wouldn’t think anything of it.

        It hadn’t been a real proposal.

        It wasn’t like he really wanted to marry Howie.

        Okay, of course he wanted to marry Howie.  But it wasn’t like Howie would ever take what he’d said seriously.  Wanting to marry Howie and live in wedded bliss forever had nothing to do with actually proposing and marrying.

        JC and Justin, Nick and Jeff, Brian and Drew, sure.  They’d all gotten married.  But they were special cases.  They were perfect happy little couples.  Besides, marrying a guy?  That was sort of extreme.

        He didn’t have to marry Howie to get any closer.  Did he?  No.  They were already pretty damned close.  Howie scratched his back for him when it itched.  He held back Howie’s hair when the wind was blowing and Howie needed both hands on the wheel.  Howie made sure there was nothing hanging out of his nose.  He said stupid stuff just to make Howie laugh.  Howie made sure he wore the right shoes.  He listened to, and actually cared about, Howie’s Backstreet Boys stories.  Howie didn’t tell anybody about his Riverdance nightmare.

        They were lovers.  They lived together when they weren’t singing across the world somewhere.  Marriage couldn’t make them closer.

        Just to be sure, he asked JC.

        He shouldn’t have asked JC.

        “Marriage changes everything,” JC said.  “It’s more than a promise, it’s a covenant.  I’m committed to Justin.  When you’re dating someone and things go wrong, you can leave.  You can take a break, you can break up.  I have a responsibility to Justin.  When things got bad between us, we kept working and we kept fighting.  We didn’t walk away to try something new with someone else.  I’m Justin’s husband, his partner, for the rest of our lives.  It’s my duty to be with him, stand by him, and take care of him.  Everything we do, we’re in it together.  When Howie’s hurt, you want to help him, and you wish that things were better.  When Justin’s hurt, that’s my pain, too.  And I don’t help him out of the goodness of my heart or to keep everything smooth between us; I help him because that’s my job.  That’s what I’m here to do.”

        Chris had another question, but he decided that JC was the wrong person to talk to.  He tried Brian.  What was the point of having a Backstreet Boy on the tour if not to bug him with personal questions?  “How’d you know you were ready to get married?”

        Brian rubbed his chin.  “I’d wanted to marry Nick.  That’s been in my heart for a long time.  But I never asked him, because he wasn’t ready.  And when Drew was with us, I put it out of my head.  If the three of us couldn’t become one in that way, I wasn’t going to make a commitment to Drew that I couldn’t make to Nick.”

        Obviously, he had, so Chris waited to hear more.

        “Nick wanted me to marry Drew.  I knew that he meant it.  He wanted me to have Drew.  He was giving Drew to me, and he was giving me to Drew.  What that meant to Nick, I’m still discovering, layer by layer.  It was only when Nick made that proposal that I saw how uncertain Drew still was.  I had put myself into our shared love, body and soul, but for Drew, it was still shaky ground.  I loved Drew.  He’s my soulmate in such a different way from Nick that it’s almost like I have two souls.”

        Hmm.

        “I couldn’t marry both of them.  Nick says that I’m a straight man trapped in a bisexual man’s libido.  I don’t know about that, but I am very traditional in certain ways.  I’m the marrying type, the settling down type.  I could only marry one of them, and only with the permission, understanding, and blessing of the other.  Nick made his move first, so I ended up marrying Drew.”

        “But how did you know you were ready?”

        “I loved him,” Brian said.  “Drew is my partner.  We work together.  We understand each other.  We make the effort to learn each other.  We balance each other in our love for Nick.  Drew is my helpmate.”

        Chris held Brian’s wedding ring in his palm, looking at it.  It was a mysterious talisman.  “So you up and married him.”

        “So I up and married him,” Brian agreed.

        “Did it all click one day?  Did an alarm go off?  How did you know you were ready and it was right?”

        “Everything Drew feels, I feel.  I even feel things for him that he doesn’t allow himself to feel.”

        Wow.  Chris handed over the ring.  He almost had no right to touch it.

        Brian smiled, sliding the ring back onto his finger.  “Does that answer your question?”

        “I am never getting married,” Chris said.  “What you have, what JC and Justin have, if people knew that’s what marriage is, no one would ever do it.”

        “It’s different for everyone,” Brian said.  “Drew and I are nothing like JC and Justin.”

        “You don’t act the same,” Chris said.  “But that depth, that profound mysterious connection, you all have that.  It’s almost magical.”

        “It’s spiritual,” Brian said.

        “It’s awesome,” Chris said.  “Awesome like filling me with awe, that kind of awesome.  And you look so normal.”

        “Howie loves you,” Brian said.

        “I’m kind of obsessed with him,” Chris said.  “But I’m not his soulmate.”

        “Are you sure?”

        “Yes.”

        “Have you asked him?”

        “No.  That’s right up there with ‘Do you love me?’  You should never, ever, ever, ever ask that question.  You just have to wait and wonder until they volunteer the information.  Unless you’re Justin.  Or, I’m guessing, Drew.”

        Brian smiled.  “Or Nick.”

        “Right.”

        “You should ask Howie,” Brian said.

        “He’ll say no, I’ll have to go kill myself, the whole thing will be a mess.  I’d better not.”

        “It’s up to you,” Brian said.

        “I haven’t spent much time intruding in your personal life, until now, so I don’t really know.  When you’re here, and you don’t have access to Nick or Drew, are you going crazy?”

        “How so?”

        “Sexually.”

        Brian laughed.  “Yes.”

        “You don’t seem like it.”

        “Spiritual love doesn’t depend on the flesh,” Brian said.  “On the other hand, I am man of flesh and blood, and I’ve been living and touring with Nick, whose sexuality has centered around me since...”

        “Since puberty.”

        “That’s about right.”

        “Damn.  Sorry.  So everything he does, everything he wants, you trained him for?”

        “That sounds more sinister than I like to think of it.”

        “I don’t mean...  His sexual identity was still developing when you two became lovers.”

        “Yes,” Brian said.  “That’s true.”

        “JC should have thought of that,” Chris said.  “When this tour is over, you’re going to go see them?”

        “No,” Brian said.  “I’ll be - - we’ll be - - in the studio.”

        “Right.  Everyone else, anyone else, would go to visit them.  But you’re going to sit in a studio with me and JC.”

        “And AJ.”

        “Where is AJ?”

        Brian shook his head.  “I don’t know.  He’s stronger now, and that’s what matters.”

        “Stronger?” Chris asked.  “Look out, world.”

        JC got up, gently rubbing Justin's side through his shirt.  "Baby."

        Joey coughed and left.

        JC already seemed to have noticed, but Justin might as well say what he'd come to say.  For lack of anything more appropriate, he settled on, "I'm, uh...feeling better."

        JC smiled, and his eyes crinkled, and Justin felt sort of weak in the knee area.  "That's good, baby.  I'm glad."

        He wanted to say, "You can tell me you love me," but that sounded really arrogant.  He could bring it up by saying, "I love you, JC," but he still felt shaky in weird places about weird things.  If JC said it first, he could probably say it back, but he wasn't ready to say it first.  "My brain is really fucked up."

        "Oh, Justin, baby, I love you," JC said, hands cupping his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks.  "There's nothing fucked up about you."

        Justin grinned despite himself.  Only JC would say that to him after everything.  "I love you, too, JC.  Baby."

        JC smiled back and kissed him.  A real kiss this time, making him all fuzzy in the head.  JC's hip brushed against his erection and Justin whispered, before he'd thought about it, "Will you let me have you later?"

        "Any time you want me," JC promised.

        JC meant it, too.  "Oh, JC, I really do love you," Justin said, suppressing the urge to go down on his knees for JC's dick.

        "As soon as you're ready, baby," JC said, and ended their kiss.

        "I'm ready now," Justin said, running his hands over JC's back.

        JC tipped his chin and looked into his eyes.  "No, baby, you're not.  You still want him, and I'm not him."

        "You are him," Justin said.

        "No, I'm not.  Not for you, never when I'm with you."  JC kissed him with love and walked away.

        Drew kept his eyes closed.  “No.”

        “I want to talk to Jeff.”

        Drew’s eyes opened.

        “You can’t tense up like that,” Nick said.

        “Sorry,” Drew said.  His bunk had always seemed small, but now that he was sharing it with a whole other person, he missed the space he’d used to have.  He thought about what Nick had said.  He repeated it: “Talk to Jeff.”

        “I could at least say hi,” Nick said.  “It’s kind of late, since I’ve been here, but it’s a place to start.”

        “What made you want to talk to him now?”

        “You’re not as supportive as you’re supposed to be.”

        “I know, I’m sorry.  Give me a minute.  Brian isn’t here, so I have to be twice as protective as usual.  Maybe three times.”

        “Brian wants me to be strong.”

        “I want you to be strong,” Drew said.  “You are strong.  How things go with Jeff, that’s very important.  If it goes badly...”

        “If it goes badly, everything you have with him will be totally fucked up.  And that’s going to fuck up everything you have with Nick.  And that’s going to fuck you up.”

        “I won’t be fucked up.”

        “Stop swearing.”

        “Sorry.  I won’t be.  I’ll be okay.  Nick and I will be okay.  We’ve been through a lot.  We’ll make it.”

        “I won’t let it get that bad,” Nick said.  “Whatever happens with me, it won’t have to affect everybody else.  That’s why we’re taking care of it.”

        “Don’t pretend things are better than they are, just for us,” Drew said.  “We don’t want that.  If it goes badly, then it goes badly, and we’ll work on it.  Tell me you won’t pretend for our sakes.  Nick.  Tell me.  Nick.”

        “I won’t pretend,” Nick muttered.

        “Thank you.”

        “A little faking it never hurt anybody.”

        “It does hurt,” Drew said.  “In the end, it always hurts.”

        “You’re really taking up the slack for Brian here.”

        Drew smiled.

        “You’re blushing.”

        “That was a good compliment,” Drew said.

        “How can you have a crush on your own husband?” Nick asked.

        “I don’t,” Drew said.  “Stop teasing me.”

        “I’m going to go talk to Nick,” Nick said.  “You stay here and sleep.”

        “Nick?”

        “Yeah.  I want to make sure everything’s straight between us before I talk to Jeff.”

        “That’s a good idea.”

        “Plus, I don’t know what Jeff’s thinking about anything, but I figure he might want a heads-up.”

        Drew nodded.

        “I won’t let my shit fuck up your life, Drew.”

        “It’s not shit,” Drew said.  “And it’s not - - I want you to take back all of that.  That’s so wrong, Nick, that’s so backward.”

        “You know what I meant.”

        “I know what you meant,” Drew said.  “It’s wrong.  And don’t sigh at me.”

        “You love me, my pain is not shit, me going through my pain can’t fuck up your life, etc.”

        “I know you take me seriously,” Drew said.  “Don’t cover up your fear and your pain.  You just promised me you wouldn’t pretend.”

        “I have to be strong right now so I can be strong when I talk to Nick so I can be strong when I talk to Jeff because I’ll be damned if I ever cry in front of him again.  Don’t make me do this now.”

        Drew was taken aback by Nick’s intensity.  He touched Nick’s hair, wondering.

        “When I’ve talked to him and I’m raw and I break down in your arms, then we can do this,” Nick said.  “Not now.  Shutting the love out and putting myself down are the only defenses I have, and I have to use them.”

        “Those are not your defenses,” Drew said.  “Knowing our love, that’s your defense.  Knowing your worth, that’s your defense.”

        “God, Drew,” Nick said.

        “Love is what makes you stronger,” Drew said.  “I know that your love makes me stronger.  It’s made me so strong, it’s helped me through so much.  My love can do the same for you.”

        “Drew-”

        “And Brian’s love,” Drew said.  “I don’t need to tell you how strong his love is, or what it can do for you if you’ll only let it.  You have to let him love you.  You’re so loved, and you’re so strong, and you’re worth so much, I don’t care how strong Jeff is, I don’t care about his emotional strength or his physical strength, he cannot beat you.  If he does hurt you, if you let him hurt you, you can build yourself back up again.  I’ll help you.”

        “God, Drew, I told you I wasn’t going to cry,” Nick said, wiping at his tears.

        “I’d rather Jeff hit me and betrayed my trust and my love,” Drew said.  “I hate that this happened to you.”

        “No one would ever hurt you,” Nick said.  “I’d kick ass if anyone tried.”

        Drew was already lying stretched out on top of Nick.  He touched Nick’s hair and kissed Nick’s tears, kissed Nick’s face.

        “I don’t think I can do this,” Nick whispered, closing his eyes.

        “You can do anything you want,” Drew promised, kissing his temple back towards his hair.  “Anything.”

        “You believe in me,” Nick said.

        “I know how strong you are inside,” Drew said, watching Nick’s eyes open.  It was so right and so perfect to be there with Nick, it almost hurt.  So right, so perfect, so good.  “No matter what happens, I’ll be here for you.”

        Nick kissed him.

        Drew closed his eyes, his fingers sliding back behind Nick’s head against Nick’s scalp.  Nick was hurt, and there was pain, but right then, Drew didn’t care if they never reconciled with Nick and Jeff.  Nick was healing.  Nick was beginning to believe.  There was so much hope and so much love around Nick, Drew could only pray that it would still be there when they went home.  He had to get Nick home to Brian, so that Brian could see.  Nick was healing and growing and coming to a mature understanding of their loves and his own worth.

        Drew changed angles, kissing Nick more deeply, feeling Nick’s embrace tighten around him.

        Drew would support Nick through every step, no matter what.  Whatever Jeff said, whatever Jeff did, if the reconciliation was quick or painful or never came at all, Drew would be at Nick’s side.  It was the least he could do, after all that Nick had done for him.

        All that Nick had done for him.

        Drew’s hips rode the thickening bulge of Nick’s arousal, Nick’s hands possessive on his back under his shirt.

        Everything would be all right.  Everything would be good.  Nick’s burden was lifting; Nick’s soul was brightening.  They could be happy.  Drew couldn’t wait to tell Brian, to have Brian see Nick’s trust unshadowed, to see Nick fully accept love and happiness.

        Drew was rocking against Nick’s erection, kissing Nick’s mouth, letting Nick’s hands feel over his body.  He wanted to make love to Nick, to be inside Nick.  He wanted to be naked and intimate.  He wanted to feel Nick’s skin against his own.  He wanted to be with Nick, just Nick, without worrying about these damned stupid clothes in the way!

        Drew stopped short, frustrated.

        Nick didn’t even pause, kick-starting Drew’s rhythm again with a deep kiss and a dirty hip thrust.

        Drew wanted to continue, and he’d be happy to tell Nick that, but he couldn’t.  They couldn’t make love, not where they were, and if they got any closer to doing it without actually getting to do it, it’d be even worse.  Wasn’t it better to stop now?

        Nick wasn’t letting him stop.  Nick kept on kissing him, like they were alone in a bed and ready for sex.  But they couldn’t have sex; didn’t Nick understand?

        Nick didn’t understand.

        Nick didn’t know.

        Nick had sex on the bus.  Nick made love with Brian on the bus.

        But they couldn’t!  They couldn’t.  They wouldn’t.  Drew wouldn’t.

        Nick pushed at Drew’s hip, and Drew raised up a little bit.  Nick stopped kissing him and looked down between their bodies, concentrating.  Unzipping Drew’s pants.

        “Nick,” Drew whispered.  They couldn’t.

        “Get my shirt,” Nick said.

        Drew gasped when he felt Nick’s hand on him, right where he was hard and sensitive.  Nick pulled Drew’s cock out of his underwear, pushing his clothes down a little.  Drew tried to say something, but all that came out was more gasping when Nick’s hand rubbed the insides of his thighs.

        “Ssshh,” Nick whispered.

        “We-”

        “Get up on your hands and knees,” Nick whispered, and picked up the shirt he’d left in the bunk yesterday.  “Come on up closer.”  His left hand was on Drew’s balls, ensuring Drew’s obedience.  “Take this,” he said.

        Drew balanced on one hand, taking the shirt in the other hand.

        “Bite down on it,” Nick said, and slid down the bunk beneath Drew’s body.

        Drew barely got the shirt there in time to muffle the first moan.  Nick’s lips were on him, Nick’s finger in him, too much stimulation, too close to orgasm.  Nick’s tongue snaked around the head of his cock, and he groaned into cotton, feeling his balls tighten.  He panted Nick’s name, and then he heard Nick moan his name, and Nick’s finger prodded his hot spot right inside, and it was over.

        Drew’s joints felt all weak.  He didn’t want to collapse on top of Nick, who was still down there, so he tried to stay up, but his muscles were trembling, and he was going to tilt over and fall out of the bunk in a minute.

        His knee was pushed aside and Nick was gone.

        Where?!  No!  Drew wanted to yell at him to get back, but instead, he fell face-first onto the mattress.  He pushed himself over, rolling onto his back, and breathed.  Wow.  Nick’s shirt fell from his limp hand.  Bus sex was kind of dirty in a very good, disturbing way.  And that hadn’t even been official sex, just oral sex.

        Drew wanted to have sex on the bus with Nick.  Real sex.

        And with Brian.

        And with Nick and Brian.

        Just a few more things to add to his growing list of fantasies.  That list was growing too long, too fast.  He should worry about himself.

        Nick came back, climbing on top of him.  “Lift your sexy ass, Drew.”

        What?  Oh.  Drew lifted his hips.

        Nick pulled Drew’s pants back up and put them together.  “There you go, all dressed.  What are you doing naked in the middle of the day?  Got your stuff all hanging out.  Were you waiting for someone to come by and pull your dick for you?”  Nick kissed him, groping him through his pants like they hadn’t just...done things.  Drew started to get restless, wanting Nick’s hand to get more serious, twisting his fingers in Nick’s hair.  He might as well not deny that he had a thing for Nick’s hair.  Not that he didn’t have a thing for every last one of Nick’s physical and psychological traits, but he liked Nick’s hair.  Brian did, too. They’d even talked about it.

        If there was anyone who enjoyed a good conversation about Nick as much as Drew did, it was Brian.

        “What are you thinking about?” Nick asked, and kissed his cheek.

        “How much Brian adores you,” Drew said, running his fingers across Nick’s nose.  He liked Nick’s nose.  It was very cute.  Sometimes Nick’s nostrils flared.  That was kind of sexy.

        “I’m Brian’s,” Nick said, “but I’m Brian’s what?”

        “You’re Brian’s Nick,” Drew said.

        “What does that mean?”

        “It’s kind of self-explanatory,” Drew said.  “You’re Brian’s Nick.”

        “He owns me.”

        “You belong to him.”

        “I’m his bitch sub.”

        “No, you’re not.”

        “I kind of am.”

        “No, you’re not.”

        “No, I am.”

        “Maybe his sub,” Drew said.

        “It’s the bitch part that offends your little Drew sensibilities?  I can leave that out.  I’m Brian’s sub.”

        “Kind of.  Not in a bad way.  In a devoted way.”

        “That means that Brian’s your sub.  Oh, damn, Drew, Brian’s a good sub.  Do you remember when you were on the phone with us and he-”

        “Yes.”  Drew had just remembered that other people could hear them.

        Nick grinned.  He got down closer, his cheek brushing Drew’s, and whispered, “Brian was a very sexy sub for me.  But he was only mine for a day.  He’s yours all day, every day, any way you want him.”

        Any way he...oh...

        “He’ll do anything you want from him.  All you have to do is say it, and you’ll get it,” Nick whispered.

        Anything he wanted.  The idea was staggering.  If it were true, if he could, if...

        “Drew.”

        Brian...

        “I can feel how hard you are.”

        Drew tried to push his hips up, tighter against Nick’s.  He didn’t care if Nick could feel.  He wanted Nick to feel.

        “If Brian were here, you could tell him to make you come, and he would.  Any way you wanted it.  You could come in Brian’s ass.  You could have Brian on his knees with his saintly mouth wrapped around your dick.  You could make love to him all night long.  You could come in your drawers and make him clean you up with his tongue.  You could-”

        Drew put his hands on Nick’s shoulders for leverage, trying to rock against Nick’s body.

        “-have him any way you wanted, sweet and soft, fast and nasty, slow or quick or dom or sub, you could be his sub if you wanted, if that’s what you want from him all you have to do is say it, don’t even say it just think it and he’ll know, and that’s what you’ll get.  He’ll do anything for you.  He’ll give you anything you want.  He’s yours.  He belongs to you.  Brian thinks the sun rises and sets in your smile.  And he thinks the planet revolves around your dick.”

        Nick’s voice was so soft and so private and so dirty, Drew couldn’t be hearing right.

        “Drew.  I’m Brian’s.”

        Brian was Nick’s world.  Everybody knew that.

        “Brian is yours.”

        He wished, he wished, he-

        “You’re mine.”

        Drew’s eyes opened.

        “I own you.”

        Slowly, gradually, Drew’s hips came to a stop.

        “You’re my sub, Drew.  You know it.  I can have you wherever I want, whenever I want, however I want.  I know it.”

        Drew’s lips parted.

        “Do you like being mine, Drew?” Nick whispered in his ear.

        Yes...

        “You’re very good at acting independent, and you’re very good at acting like it’s all no big deal, but I know better, Drew.  There’s a reason I seduced you.  There’s a reason your sexual awakening started with me.  It’s not because no one else tried.  I know people tried.  You were waiting for me.  You responded to me.  You wanted me.  You wanted me all the way back then and you still want me now, don’t you, Drew?”

        He did, he did.  He wanted Nick.  He wanted everything about Nick, all day, all night.

        “When you think about sex, you think about me.  I’m your fantasy.  How many sexual fantasies do you have, Drew?  And how many of them are about me?”

        All of them.  Nick was in all of them.  Even the ones that were mostly about Brian still involved Nick in some way.

        Nick’s hands were stroking Drew’s sides, getting up under his shirt.  “It feels good, doesn’t it?  How much of you is getting off on being touched, Drew?”

        Most of him.

        “How much of you is getting off on being touched by me?”

        Oh...  Oh, that was a whole new way of...  Oh, yes.  Drew turned his head away from Nick, eyes closed, trying not to moan as Nick’s thumb rubbed just below his navel.

        “Brian can have me, kiss me, screw me, anything he wants, any time he wants,” Nick said.  “He doesn’t use it, but he knows it’s there.  He’s good to me.”

        So...good...

        “I’m good to you, too, aren’t I, Drew?  I never make you ask for it.  I never make you beg for it.  I give you what you want because I know what you want.  I know what you need.  And I let you think you’re in charge. I let you pretend your sexuality is yours.  It isn’t, Drew.  It’s mine.  You’re mine.  Every time I say you’re my Drew, remember, what I really mean is...you’re my sub.”

        Drew moaned at the words, coming in his pants at Nick’s touch.

        Silence.  Nobody moved.

        Drew wasn’t sure he was ready to look Nick in the eye.  He kept his head turned.

        “That was fucking hot,” Nick said.  “I didn’t know you wanted it like that.  You want to do it now, or with Brian when we get home?”

        Drew turned so fast he almost got whiplash.  “What?”

        “Relax,” Nick said.  “Where did you get the idea?”

        “The...idea?”

        Nick cupped Drew’s jaw and turned Drew’s head, whispering in the other ear this time.  “When did you decide, figure out, whatever, that you wanted to play dom/sub with me?”

        Drew pulled away, looking at Nick.  “How did you know?”

        “I’ve learned you, Drew.  You give a hell of a lot of nonverbal cues, and the more worked up the more you give.  That’s good, because you don’t talk during sex unless you’re deep into the zone.”

        Oh.

        “I’ve learned to bring up a whole lot of stuff, and whatever you respond to, that’s what I go with.  You were deep into everything I just said, but that last part, that rubbed you the right way.  How did that happen?”

        It was Drew’s turn to whisper.  He tried to maintain eye contact.  “When you and Brian were...  When he was being your sub, and you talked to me, and then he talked to me, I wanted that to be me.  I wanted to do that for you.”

        “You scared yourself and hung up.”

        “Yes.”

        “The ones where you scare yourself are almost one hundred percent as good as the ones that you want so badly you don’t even let yourself get scared.  This is going to be so fucking good, Drew.  Do you want to do it on the road, just us?”

        “Yes.”

        “You know I’m going to run home and tell Brian all about it.”

        Drew smiled.  “I know.”

        “Do you want to go change pants?”

        Drew winced.  “Yes.”  That had been unfortunate.

        “Wait, not yet.”  Nick’s hands were on Drew’s fly.

        “What are you doing?”

        “I’m going to lick the cum off your dick and then suck it off your drawers,” Nick said.  “Hold still.”