JC's Hitchhiker

CHAPTER 1

Nobody expects to leave their house in the morning and fall in love. It's been known to happen, and you might hope for it, you might wonder about it, and you might wish it would happen, but nobody expects it. In much the same way, nobody expects for their rental car to catch on fire and explode, but it's also been known to happen. As a matter of fact, it happened to me.

I was coming back from a long, boring conference in a rental car that did not seem to like me very much. In the course of the one-week conference, the car had stalled repeatedly, and overheated once. The rental agency had been less than helpful when I called them, telling me that I would have to return it to them for service. I explained that I wasn't sure if I'd be able to return it to them, as I didn't think it would make it, and they assured me that they rented nothing but quality vehicles.

"Quality, yeah, nothing but, " I muttered sarcastically to myself, pulling over.

I didn't really need the brakes, as the engine had stopped. I threw it into park and shut it off, deadening the glow of the many warning lights that had come on. I tried the key a few times, but it wouldn't start, and smoke began to drift from under the hood. Annoyed, I pulled my bag and my suitcase off of the back seat, deciding to just abandon the damn thing.

I was about fifty yards from the car when I realized it was on fire. I turned around, set my suitcase down, and sat on top of it, watching my rental car burn. It was the middle of the night, well after midnight. I was in the middle of nowhere, and hadn't seen another car for at least an hour. Based on the last road sign I had passed, I guessed I was about ten miles from the next town. I was completely alone, sitting on my suitcase on the road shoulder, watching my rental car burn in the night, so I threw back my head and laughed.

Hey, it was either that or cry.

I was still giggling and trying to figure out what I was going to do when a bus buzzed past me, slammed on its brakes, and reversed to where I was sitting. It stopped with that clicking hissing sigh that bus brakes always make, and then the door opened, spilling a bright fan of light onto the shoulder, where I was standing and dusting myself off.

Two men climbed down from the bus. The first had spiky dark hair, with streaks of color in it, and a little goatee, but the second really caught my eye. He had a wavy mop of brown hair, streaked with blonde, and piercing blue eyes. I'd seen pictures of both of them countless times, and recognized them immediately, but I figured they didn't need me to blurt out their names. They knew who they were, and if they didn't, it was written on the side of their bus.

"Hey man, are you ok?" the first one asked.

"I appear to be having a little car trouble," I said, gesturing behind me at the flaming automotive wreckage.

"Really?" the second one asked, snickering. The first just gaped at us. "Can we, um, give you a lift?"

"I'd really appreciate that, " I said, extending my hand. "Jack Springer."

"Josh," he said, shaking it. His hand was smooth but his grip was firm.

He held on just a second longer than necessary, looking into my eyes while I looked into his, and then he let go, bending down.

"Let me help you with this," Josh said quickly, grabbing my suitcase. He climbed quickly onto the bus, leaving me to follow with my bag.

"I'm Chris," the guy behind me said, following me as we hurried aboard.

"Pleased to meet you," I said, following Josh down a narrow hallway to the back of the bus where a couple of couches were set up, like a lounge.

Josh set my bag down next to one of the couches and turned around to face me. Just as he did, the bus lurched forward, and, losing my balance, I fell against him. My hands went to his shoulders as he grabbed my arms to steady me, and we were again looking into each other's eyes.

"Sorry," I said, blushing.

"It's ok," he said, flashing perfect white teeth. "Takes a little getting used to."

"Can we get you anything?" Chris asked.

"Oh, no, I'm ok," I answered, sitting down. "I have a book here in my bag. I appreciate the ride, but I don't want to be any trouble. How far are you guys going, anyway?"

"To Phoenix tonight," Josh answered, sitting down next to me.

"That's great! I was planning to stay there tonight," I said.

Chris was still standing near the door.

"Um, Jack, you know who we are, right?" he asked, appearing confused.

"Yeah," I answered. "I have cable, you know."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Chris asked.

"Honestly? I was afraid you wouldn't give me a ride if I was like, 'Oh my God! It's N'Sync!'" I answered.

They both laughed, and then Chris waved at us.

"I'm gonna turn in," he said. "You crazy kids don't stay up too late, ok?"

"Night, bro," Josh said. He turned back to me. "So."

"So," I said, dazzling him with my wit. "Now that I've admitted to knowing who you are, do I get to call you JC?"

"If you want to," he answered. "Are you really going to read a book?"

"Did you have something else in mind?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. It's the dream of gay men everywhere that every member of every boyband in the world is secretly gay. Could it be true?

"I thought maybe we could play a little chess," he began, pulling out a travel chess game with little magnetic pieces. "None of the guys will play with me. What?"

I realized I was giggling.

"Nothing," I answered. "This just isn't at all where I thought you were going."

"Where did you think I was going?" he asked, smiling.

"Nevermind," I answered. "I'll play, but I'll warn you now that I'm not very good."

We played for a while, and, as promised, I was awful. I knew where the pieces went, and how they were supposed to move, but had no sense of strategy. After we finished three games in under a half hour, JC stopped trying to give me pointers, realizing I was a hopeless case, and we began to talk of other things, instead.

"So what do you do?" he asked, removing one of my pieces from the board.

"I'm a high school librarian, " I answered.

"That must be exciting," JC said, laughing.

"It's not that bad," I said, playfully smacking his arm. "I mean, I realize it's not quite on the level of being, you know, an internationally famous pop star, but it's not that bad."

We traded stories for a while, with me talking about my students, and JC telling me funny concert anecdotes. We started talking about their current tour, and then about what I was doing in the middle of nowhere at midnight with my rental car on fire.

"I was at this conference, and thought that I'd turn it into a mini-vacation by driving back," I explained. "Now I'm thinking I might just get a plane ticket in Phoenix, and fly the rest of the way. It'll be less hassle than getting another car."

"You think we should call someone about that?" he asked.

"We can when we stop," I answered. "It's not like it's going anywhere."

We both laughed.

As the bus rolled on into the night, we gave up on the chessboard, and began to just talk. We talked about our backgrounds, our friends and families, and really almost everything. Almost. JC never asked if I was seeing anyone, and I never asked him, either. The guys began to wake up and stumble into the lounge, where JC and Chris introduced me, and had me tell my flaming rental story three more times. As we rolled into Phoenix, pulling up at a hotel, I realized that it was after sunrise, and neither JC nor myself had slept the entire night.

As the guys began to stumble from the bus and go check into their rooms, attended by an entourage that had apparently traveled ahead to meet them, JC pulled me aside.

"So, um, what are you going to do now?" he asked.

"I think I'll check in and go to sleep," I answered. "I was gonna get that plane ticket, but I think I'll put it off until tomorrow. I'm dead tired."

"Why don't you come to the show?" JC asked.

"Me? At an N'Sync concert?" I asked. "Josh, I'm 25 years old, and I'm all by myself. Besides, you guys already gave me a ride, and I really don't want to impose on you."

"Please?" he asked. "For me? I'll get you a seat away from the front, where you'll be able to see but you won't be surrounded by twelve year olds."

"OK, I guess," I answered.

"I'll leave a ticket for you here at the desk, and have someone drive you over," he said, hugging me.

I was a little surprised by the hug, but it felt like one of those friendly guy hugs that you get sometimes. You know, the platonic ones.

I waved the guys on their way, and went and checked myself in, convinced that the next time I'd see them, on stage, would be the last time. After all, how often, realistically, does a band just adopt and befriend someone they pick up on the side of the road? I checked in, set the alarm clock, and went to sleep, dreaming impossible dreams about me and JC.

When I awoke, showered, and dressed, I went to the lobby to pick up a large brown envelope with my name on it. Inside was a ticket, and a backstage pass on a cord, long enough to fit around my neck. Beneath them I found a note from Josh.

"Jack- Please stop backstage after the show and tell me what you thought. I know we've only known each other for a few hours, but I feel like we really have a connection. I can't wait to see you. Your friend, the famous JC"

As I finished reading the note, I realized that a short man, dressed in black, was standing next to me.

"Mr. Springer?" he asked. I nodded. "I'm your driver. If you could please follow me to the car?"

I followed him out to a limousine, and whistled softly.

"Last time I rode in one of these was at the prom," I said.

"Very good, sir," the driver said, opening the door for me.

I rode in silence all the way to the arena. I should have guessed, based on the car, that I would be arriving at and going through the VIP entrance, but it still surprised me. I heard reporters whispering to each other as I walked in, looking around wide-eyed at the spectacle around me, trying to figure out who I was. A few of the photographers, apparently deciding that it was better safe than sorry, took my picture, so I smiled and waved for them, and tried to look like this happened all the time. My reserved seat was also in the VIP section, and had a very good view of the stage.

I had never been to an N'Sync concert before, but was pretty familiar with their music. They put on a great show. Everything sounded right, and they were fabulous dancers. They always looked good on television, but they proved that they can pull it off live, too. Almost against my will I found myself clapping, dancing, and singing along, like most of the people around me. Even if you didn't like their music, you'd still have to admit that those boys put on a great show.

After the show those of us in the VIP box with backstage passes were met by an escort and taken backstage. My name was checked against a list, and a nice young lady walked me down a narrow hallway. She knocked on a door.

"Mr. Chasez?" she called. "Mr. Jack Springer to see you."

"Send him in, Janine," Josh called from behind the door.

"You can go on in," she said.

"Thanks," I said, pushing open the door. I stopped dead in the doorway.

You see a lot of publicity shots of JC in magazines, and you see him on television, but you never realize how attractive he really is, up close and in person. You also never see shots of him in tight black boxer briefs, which he was wearing when I opened the door. His pecs were toned, capped with small brown nipples. An almost invisible trail of dark hair led down through his rippling abs to disappear into the waistband of his full, enticingly clinging briefs. His whole body glistened, and his hair was wet and slicked back.

"Jack!" he said, striding across the room and shaking my hand as if this was the way he greeted all his guests. "You made it!"

"Yeah," I said, forcing myself to focus on his face. Oh, those eyes.

"Sorry I'm not dressed. I just got out of the shower," he said, pulling me into the room. Oh, to have been five minutes earlier. "How'd you like the show?"

"Oh, it was good," I answered, trying to prevent myself from noticing the way the water beaded on the smooth skin of his chest.

"You want to sit down?" he asked, gesturing toward a chair.

"Sure," I answered, hoping he hadn't looked at my crotch. I could feel a hard on that would be obvious to even the most casual observer. Luckily he had maintained unbroken eye contact since I walked in.

"Cool, that's great," he said, pulling on a pair of dark pants. I watched the muscles play across his back as he rummaged through the rack for a shirt. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing planned after this, " I answered, thinking about what a shame it was to have such a beautiful man covered up so quickly by clothing. "Why?"

"I kind of want to go out, just dancing, maybe have a couple drinks, but none of the guys want to go," he answered, buttoning his shirt and running a hand through his hair. I'd always preferred him with short hair, but the longer look was rapidly growing on me. "Do you want to go?"

I thought it over for a second.

"I'd love to, but I really didn't pack anything like that," I began.

"Just wear something of mine, " he said. He pulled a few things off the rack and handed them to me. "I have to go meet some people, and sign a few autographs, but I'll be quick. Just get changed while I'm gone and I'll come grab you."

"Um, ok," I answered. As he was walking out the door, I stopped him. "Josh, why are you doing this?"

He paused for a moment, pulling on shoes as he stood in the doorframe.

"We don't have a lot of friends outside the business. You knew who I was, and it genuinely didn't phase you, and I appreciate that," he said. So it was just gratitude, because I treated him like a human being? "And I like you."

And with that, he was gone.

Leaving me to wonder what exactly that last comment had meant. "I like you." As a friend? As more than a friend? Wait, wasn't JC straight, and dating some girl named Bobbie? What the hell was going on? Unwilling to ponder these questions for long, I changed into the clothes he had handed me. I was just about to take them off again when Josh returned.

"Wow!" he said, eyes wide. "You look great!"

"Are you sure?" I asked. "These just aren't me at all. I feel like an idiot."

"No, you look really good," he reassured me. He stepped closer. "Let's just undo this button, like that. You have a great chest, and you should show a little more of it. And your hair."

"What about my hair?" I asked self-consciously.

"There's nothing wrong with it, really," he said, squirting a little gel onto his fingers. He ran it through my hair, leaning in close.

I realized that our faces were just inches away from each other. I looked into his eyes, and tried to fathom what I saw there. Abruptly he spun me around to face the mirror.

"There, see?" he said, standing behind me. "You look great. Now let's go have some fun!"

Escorted by Josh and two bodyguards, I allowed myself to be led out to another limo, and then we were off. The night is mostly a blur. We went to a couple different clubs, and both of us drank a lot. The two bodyguards hung back, and most people were respectful of Josh's privacy even after they recognized him. We danced side by side with a lot of different girls, but he definitely had the spotlight. Every once in a while he would grab my shoulder and give me a thumbs up, or scream in my ear that this was great, and he was glad I'd come.

Eventually we were both too tired and too drunk to continue, and the limo brought us and the bodyguards back to the hotel. They walked him to his room first, and as he stood in the door, one asked if he wanted them to take me to my room.

"No, Jack, come talk to me!" he said.

"OK," I said, following him into the room. I closed the door behind us and sat on the couch in the suite room.

"I'll be right out," Josh slurred from the bedroom.

I waited for a minute, and then heard a loud thump.

"Josh?" I asked.

There was no answer. I started counting in my head, and realized that Josh had had a little more to drink than I had.

"Josh? You ok?" I asked.

When he still didn't answer, I walked cautiously into the bedroom. Josh was sitting on the end of the bed, fighting with his shoelace. His other shoe was next to the door, where he'd apparently thrown it.

"Need a little help with that?" I asked.

"Sure," he answered.

I knelt at his feet, between his splayed knees, and untied the shoe for him. As I began to stand, he grabbed my sides with both hands, and I lost my balance, collapsing on top of him on the bed. He chuckled, and I realized I was looking right into his eyes, and we were face to face, and I was lying on top of him, with his entire body pressed against mine. I leaned down and kissed him, softly, on the lips.

And he didn't kiss back.

I'd completely misread him.

I was a fool.

"I'm sorry," I began, raising myself on my hands.

"No," he said, half-whispering. He grabbed the back of my head with his hand and pulled me back down.

I moaned into his mouth as I felt his tongue fighting with mine. His hands roamed across my back, and mine immediately went to the front of his shirt. Unwilling to fight with the buttons, I grabbed the sides and just tore it open, exposing the beautiful chest I'd lusted over earlier. Josh moaned and arched his back into the bed as my tongue snaked down his collarbone and across his pec.

"Ungh, yes," he moaned as my mouth fastened onto his left nipple.

I sucked at it, hard, and caught the end between my teeth, pulling just a little before I let go and swirled my tongue around it. Like a kid with the world's biggest popsicle I licked my way across his chest to the other nipple, savoring the salty taste of sweat on his smooth skin. As I devoured his nipple, working it over like I had the first one, Josh moaned loudly, tossing his head from side to side, writhing in pleasure as his hands twisted the blanket on top of the bed. My own hands were busy with his belt and pants, and as I began to tug them down my tongue followed the crease in his torso. I washed over his abs, outlining them with my tongue as I tugged his pants and boxer briefs off, tossing them aside.

My tongue followed the line of hair below his navel until it collided with the wet head of his cock.

"Yes, Jack, yes," he groaned, twisting on the bed, muscles taught.

His cock wasn't huge, but wasn't tiny, and I generously worshipped it with long strokes of my tongue. I went lower, to his balls, taking one and then the other in my mouth, before returning to paint his cock with my spit. My hands rubbed his taught thighs, and slid up his heaving chest to find his nipples and twist them, hard, as the leaking head of his fat cock pushed through my lips.

"Oh, Jack, God, yes," he moaned again.

As I savored his salty precum, swirling my tongue over his cockhead before swallowing as much of him as I could, bobbing slowly on him while swirling and lapping with my tongue, I felt his hands settle onto the back of my head. He wasn't pushing, or forcing. Instead he was just running his hands through my hair as he groaned his pleasure. I looked up at him, and thought of how beautiful he was with his head thrown back, all of his muscles tight, and his face twisted in pleasure. I flicked my tongue over the sensitive spot just below his slit, and then through the slit itself. His whole body jerked, and suddenly my mouth was filled with hot, salty cum.

"Yes, yes, oh God, yes, Jack, " he panted, shooting into my mouth.

His hands were twisted into my hair, and as his body stopped jerking he used them to pull me up the bed and up his body, dragging my dripping mouth to his. His tongue forced it's way into my mouth, licking and sucking his own seed from me. I felt as if I was being consumed. Suddenly he rolled, and his naked body was astride my clothed one. My hands slid down his muscled back to grab both cheeks of his smooth ass, and his cock jerked into mine as we continued twirling our tongues against each other. I felt his hands working at my shirt.

"Now you," he said, ripping my shirt open.

He didn't take half the time I had to savor him. As soon as my clothes were off, he was on my cock, sucking and gobbling, nursing on it like a calf. His mouth was like fire. I reached for his head, and felt his fingers twine through mine. We flexed and pulled as I writhed in exquisite pleasure, and he moaned around my cock as he swallowed it whole. I couldn't hold back, and screamed his name as I shot and shot again into his mouth. He crawled up my spent body, and plastered his mouth over mine, treating me to the same tastes he'd just experienced.

We fell asleep that way, with him on top of me, kissing softly. When I woke up in the morning, we had ended up side by side on the bed, and I carefully slid out without waking him.

I dressed quickly, having no choice but to wear the clothes I'd borrowed from him, and wrote him a quick note on the hotel stationery.

"Josh, last night was amazing. I'm sorry to leave like this, but I have to go back to work. Than you for the ride, and for the companionship, and for everything else. Here's my number. Call me when you can. -Jack"

I slipped out and back down to my room. I packed quickly, and took a taxi to the airport. I got a plane ticket, and within an hour was on the plane, heading back to my life.

JC never called.

August became December, and then June. My two days in Phoenix began to seem like a misty dream. I wouldn't have believed they were real if not for the strange clothes hanging in the back of my closet. Even now they hold the faintest trace of Josh's scent, the smell of cologne, sweat, and a beautiful, talented young man in his prime.

And still he never called.

I had been foolish to think he would. There was probably a guy like me in every city they stopped at. He'd probably be hard pressed to remember my name, and if we passed on the street he wouldn't remember who I was, walking right past without the faintest glimmer of recognition.

I was trying not to think things like that as I sat in my office in the back of the library in June. We had a lot of work to do to close up for the school year, and I had a lot of other things on my mind, so I wasn't really thinking about it when Racquelle, one of the student library helpers, knocked on the door. She was very red in the face, and seemed on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Racquelle?" I asked. "Are you ok? Do you need to go to the nurse?"

"You, uh, you, you know, Mr. Springer, you have a visitor," she blurted, stepping aside.

And there he was in my office doorway, with that same mop of hair and those same blue eyes.

"Josh," I said, surprised.

"Jack," he said, smiling. "I was going to call, but a visit is so much more personal."

---

CHAPTER 2

Neither one of us seemed to know what to say to each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, or what he'd been thinking for months. Hell, I wasn't even sure what I'd been thinking, and I had rushed out of the hotel room before I could figure it out.

"So," I began, noticing that he still had the same cheekbones, the same sky blue eyes, that same slender, sexy build.

"So," he answered, exuding a soft smell of good cologne.

Oh yeah, we were off to a great start.

"Oh my God, do you know who you are?" Racquelle gushed in all her breathless teenaged enthusiasm. I'd kind of forgotten she was in the room.

"Gee, I hope so," Josh answered, smiling.

"Racquelle, this is my friend, Mr. Chasez," I began.

"Oh my God, you're friends with my librarian!" Racquelle burst, splintering the calm, quiet of the library.

"Racquelle, I know you're excited," I began softly, in my best attempt at finding an educational, developmental way to say, "Shut up!"

Josh took her arm.

"Racquelle? That's such a pretty name," he began, as she stared at his arm in goggle-eyed excitement. I could just see her thinking, "Oh my God, JC's touching me!" You don't know the half of it, Racquelle. "I can see you're pretty excited, but I've come kind of a long way to talk to Mr. Springer here. Would it be ok if I came out and talked to you when I was done? Or maybe signed something for you? You seem really nice, and I wouldn't want to miss a chance to talk to you a little more."

"I'll be right there at that desk!" she said, pointing. She hurried over to the front desk as Josh stepped into my office and closed the door.

"You handled that really well," I said. We moved toward each other in a kind of awkward little attempt at a hug, but then just shook hands. He still had that smooth yet firm grip. I remembered well the feeling of his hand sliding over my skin. "Um, do you want to sit down?"

"Sure," he said, settling into a chair as I sat back down at mine. "So."

"So," I said, looking at him.

My office is kind of small, so having two people in it with the door closed was almost claustrophobic, especially if one of the people was the world-famous JC. I hadn't really been affected by that sense of "Oh my God" celebrity when I'd met him, but that had been such a whirlwind two days that, as I said, I hadn't really thought about anything. As I looked at him, leaning comfortably back in his chair but looking right into my eyes in that unwavering way he had, I felt the same sparks of lust, and quickly pushed them aside.

"It's nice to see you," I began awkwardly. "Kind of a surprise."

"Well, you know, you left so quickly I didn't even get to say goodbye," he said, a quick flash of hurt crossing his features. Just as quickly his face settled back into that cute, relaxed yet playful look.

"Didn't get a chance to call, either," I pointed out. It came out a little harsher than I'd intended. "I'm sorry, that sounded bitchy."

"Well, are you mad that I didn't call?" he asked, leaning forward. I found myself unconsciously leaning forward, too, just to get closer. "Because I wasn't exactly overjoyed when I woke up, and you weren't there."

I sighed.

"Josh, I don't know how I feel, ok?" I said, leaning back in my chair. "I don't know how you feel, either, but it's obvious we have some talking to do. This isn't the place to do it, though."

"Yeah, I guess," he agreed. "Do you want me to leave?"

I didn't. I also didn't want him to think I wasn't happy to see him, or that I was mad that he'd come.

"Listen, Josh, this is the last period of the day," I said. "Why don't you let me finish up here, and then we can go somewhere and sit down and just talk, ok?"

"OK," he said, standing up. "What do you want me to do?"

"Do?" I asked, standing as well.

"I'll get bored just sitting here in your office," he said, smiling. "What can I do to help out around here?"

"You want to work in the library?" I asked incredulously, smiling and chuckling a little.

His eyes sparkled as he grinned back at me.

"Sure do," he answered. "I want to work in the library, right now."

"You asked for it," I said, not quite believing that a member of N'Sync had come all the way here to see me and to put in a shift working at a high school library. I opened my door, unconscious of the fact that we were both grinning like idiots. "Racquelle? Mr. Chasez is going to help out around here this period. Do you think he could help you go through the stacks?"

"You're gonna help me?" Racquelle asked, again seeming on the verge of hyperventilating. It would have been funny if I didn't think we'd have to send her to the nurse.

"That's what Mr. Springer says," Josh answered, smiling at her.

Racquelle grabbed his arm and began pulling him across the library.

"We're going through the shelves right now to put the books back in order before the summer. It all goes by the decimal system thing, and I'll show you how it works," Racquelle babbled, leading him to the shelves and tossing in another, "Oh my God!"

I watched for a second, wondering how long Josh would go along with this.

"Oh wow, you know Mr. Springer? Does he know the rest of the band?" Racquelle asked.

"Oh, yeah, he knows all of them," Josh answered, smiling at me.

Racquelle stared at me in wonder. Suddenly I was, without doubt, the coolest librarian in the school district, if not the state.

"I'll just be in here if you guys need me," I said, stepping back into my office.

I went back to the boring administrative paperwork that I'd been working on, but kept an ear toward my open door, listening to Racquelle keep up a steady stream of chatter and questions as she and JC worked their way around the library. Listening to them, I gained a new respect for Josh. Even though he was a major celebrity, and she was a high school library assistant, he never once talked down to her. He answered all of her questions, and even managed to work in a few of his own, to ask her about school, what else she did, what her goals were, and just to be a generally nice, down to earth guy. Before I knew it, the period was almost over, and the two of them had moved back to the front desk.

I closed up my office, shutting off the lights and locking the door, and joined them at the desk.

"JC, do you think you could sign my notebook for me?" Racquelle asked, much calmer than she had been.

"I would love to," Josh said, taking it from her. "As a matter of fact, I have an even better idea. When the bell rings, why don't you go get four of your friends, and bring them back here, and I'll sign whatever you guys want."

"JC, you're in a high school, " I pointed out, "and we're not set up for riot control."

"I won't tell anybody, I swear!" Racquelle promised. "I won't even tell them why we're coming here! I promise! Please Mr. Singer?"

"Please, Mr. Singer?" Josh echoed.

"OK," I said, throwing up my hands. "But only four friends, and then you guys go straight home, ok?"

"OK, I promise!" Raquelle promised, flying out of the library as the bell rang.

Against all possible odds she returned with only four friends, and no one else noticed that anything special was going on. After all, the library isn't really a happening place. Josh very calmly held off five teenaged girls, and signed whatever they produced for him, writing whatever message they wanted. When the warning bell for the busses rang, the five of them flew out of the library, backpacks clutched to their chests.

"That was really sweet," I said, walking toward the windows. "Once the busses leave we can head out."

"OK," he said.

Josh settled back into a chair and watched as I closed all the windows and lowered all the blinds. I shut off the lights, gathered my things, and then we walked out to my car. He had taken a cab from the airport, rather than a limo, and had only brought a small bag. I mentally reviewed the contents of my apartment.

"You ok with eating out? I'm not really sure what kind of dinner I can throw together, other than stuff from a box," I said.

"Sure," he said, looking out the window.

We drove in silence for a few minutes, and suddenly I felt the need to fill it.

"I want to apologize," I began. "I was wrong about you, and I've misjudged you. Over the past months I've built up in my head that you were just this, I don't know, big time prick celebrity, and I realized this afternoon that I was wrong."

He looked thoughtful for a minute. I wasn't sure if I had hurt him or not, but I figured honesty would probably be the best policy.

"I appreciate that," he began, and then sighed. "We have a lot to talk about, Jack. I think we should get some food first."

"OK," I agreed. "There's a little quite place up the road here, and I can get us seats toward the back, in case you're worried about people seeing you."

"Thanks," he answered. "I'd kind of like for us to have some uninterrupted time."

I nodded my head, and he went back to looking out the window. After another minute or two, he shifted in his seat, and somehow his hand settled onto my knee. I looked at him, and saw that he had stopped looking out the window, and was staring at me with this open, kind of wistful expression.

"I missed you, Jack," Josh said.

"I missed you, too, Josh," I said, turning the car. "This is us."

Josh followed me into the restaurant. I was walking kind of fast, because I was starting to feel a little disoriented. How could he miss me, but not call for months? And then just show up, and drop his hand onto my knee like it was his? Part of me wanted to knock his hand away, and the rest of me wanted to move it further up my leg. After we were seated, and had ordered, we stared at each other again, and then looked away, twirling our drinks with our straws or playing with our napkins.

Yes, we'd mastered the concept of "awkward silence".

Leaning forward, I asked, "So, how did you find me?"

"It wasn't all that difficult," Josh said, smiling and leaning forward as well. "I mean, you left your name and your phone number, and it's not like I don't have a lot of resources at my disposal."

"Good point," I said, readying myself. "I guess you get to ask a question now."

"Why'd you leave like that?" he asked, brows knitted together. It had never occurred to me that I might have hurt him.

"Good question," I said, stalling, and leaning back in my chair. "It's hard to answer that. I mean, the whole thing happened so fast, and it was like I just got plucked out of my life and dropped into yours. I felt kind of overwhelmed."

He didn't say anything.

"I also felt kind of ashamed, " I added.

Josh reached across the table and took my hand.

"Ashamed? Why? Because of who you are?" he asked, his face etched with lines of concern.

"Oh, Jesus, no," I answered. "I'm years past that. I wasn't ashamed because I'm gay. I was ashamed because of what I thought you were thinking. I mean, I just met you, and we form this immediate friendship, and then I get you drunk and take complete advantage of you. What kind of a friend does that?"

"You know, Jack, I wouldn't say that you got me drunk," Josh began. " I don't remember you pouring any drinks into my mouth. And I wouldn't say you took advantage of me, either. As I remember, everybody got something out of it."

"But still, you know, I'm not the kind of guy who just meets people and has sex with them," I said. "And I was worried that you thought I was. And then I was worried that you were, so I just got up and left. I'm not looking for a one night stand, and I really thought I had just blown the whole thing."

His mouth twitched, but he held the giggles in.

"No pun intended," I said, smiling.

"Jack, that's not what I thought," he began.

"Then why didn't you call?" I demanded. "I waited for months. Every time I came home and the answering machine was blinking I thought it might be you. I waited for you, and you never called, and I didn't know what else to think. For all I knew you were leaving a string of guys behind you on that tour. I thought there was a guy like me in every town, and how do you think that made me feel?"

"Oh, Jack," Josh said, looking down. He looked back up into my eyes, ignoring the anger there. "I'm sorry. I don't know if you believe that, but I am. I didn't decide not to call because of you. I didn't call you because of me."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"Jack, there isn't a string of other guys before or after you," Josh began, breathing deeply. "As a matter of fact, there aren't any other guys, besides you. You're the only one."

I gaped at him.

"Wait, Josh, you never."

"Never," he answered. "Not with another guy."

We paused for a minute, as the waiter returned with our meals. I was still processing Josh's revelation, and it gave him a minute or two to collect himself.

"Jack, you're the only guy I've ever slept with, ever," he began. "And that's why I didn't call you."

"OK," I said, looking at my food.

"No, not ok," Josh said. "You deserve a better answer than that. This is kind of hard for me, but it's part of why I'm here. See, my whole life I felt like something was missing. You said that you've been ok with yourself for years, but I haven't been. I've had this emptiness, this hole, and I've tried and tried to fill it. I have friends, and my family, and even girlfriends, but none of it has ever been what I needed."

"But Josh, in the field you work in, you must have met another gay guy before," I said, enthralled. I had my hand on his now, trying to comfort him. "You've probably even been hit on before. It can't have just been me."

"You're right," he smiled. "It wasn't just you, but it wouldn't have been anyone else but you. Everyone else I meet wants something. They need something from me. When you're on tour, you're going all the time, and when you're not working or rehearsing you're trying to sleep, and get ready for the next show. When Chris and I saw you, sitting out by your car, we convinced the driver to stop because helping someone is what you're supposed to do. But then you got on the bus, and I started talking to you, and you were like a breath of fresh air."

"Me?" I said. "Josh, I've been called many things, but never that."

"No," he said, gripping my hand. "It's true. You said that you felt like you got dropped into my life? Well, I felt like I was pulled into yours. You were this bright, happy, amazing special person, and you didn't want anything, and you seemed so comfortable with yourself, and it was like looking into a window at everything I always wanted. You were like this little slice of reality, and it didn't matter to you who we were. You made a friend of me, and it was really for me, and I wanted to hold onto that as long as I could."

"So you invited me to the concert, and to go out," I said, comprehending.

"Yes!" he said. "It was like I was drowning, and you were the life preserver. I didn't know who I was, and there you were. And then, when we got back, and, you know, it was the most amazing experience of my life. We fell asleep and I knew who I was. I knew how I was different, and I knew what that hole had always been. And then I woke up, and you were gone."

We both sighed. I looked down at the tabletop, where my right hand was still holding his left.

"Josh, I can't be your life preserver," I said, even though it was like chewing glass. "I can't be that for anyone. It's not healthy, and it's not fair to you or me."

"I know," he answered. "And that's why I didn't call. I couldn't do that to someone else, couldn't love someone else, until I knew how I felt about me. I've done a lot of work these past few months, but I've also done a lot of thinking. I've thought about our time together, and about how it made me feel, and I've compared it with my whole life, and I know who I am now, and that's why I called you. Because I feel like now I can see myself as your equal, without needing you to be anything for me other than who you are."

"But, Josh, me?" I asked. "Not to play low self esteem or anything, because, you know, I'm more than a little cute and I have great abs, for a librarian, but out of all the people in the world you want me? You could have anybody."

He took my hand in both of his.

"But I don't want anybody," he said. "I came because I want you."

"Oh," I said, squeezing his hand. My heart was fluttering like a hummingbird on speed.

"Jack?" he asked, looking again into my eyes. I stared again into his blue eyes, the color of sea and sky, and again tried to read what I saw there. I saw warmth, and caring. I saw a beautiful young man who was even more beautiful on the inside, and I saw that it was me he wanted, just me.

"Josh, yeah, um, I'm, you know, I'm ok with that," I said, looking up. "Apology for not calling accepted, based on damn good reasons."

We ate for a while, just making small talk as the conversation we'd just had sank in. We talked about how work was going for me, and how the rest of the tour had gone for him. They were getting ready to go back into the studio, but were taking a little break so the members of the group could pursue other projects for a little while before they did. We worked our way around to the important stuff again when dessert came.

"So, what do we do now?" Josh asked, stirring his coffee.

"I think I'd like to just take it a little more slowly," I said. "I mean, those two days were great, but wow, they were quick. Tomorrow's a Friday, so why don't I go to work, and maybe you could stay here for the weekend?"

"I'd like that," he answered. "We could hang out, get to know each other, you know, stuff like that."

"Are you staying at a hotel?" I asked.

"Well, I didn't check in anywhere yet," he answered.

"Oh, good, because you can stay at my place, and save a little money," I said, and then blushed when I realized who I was talking to.

"I was kind of hoping I could stay with you," he said, smiling and cocking an eyebrow suggestively.

"In the guestroom," I added. His eyebrow dropped comically, with his jaw. "Hey, I said take it slow. I have a three date minimum, JC."

He thought about it for a minute.

"OK, I can respect that," he said. "I think I'd kind of like to take it slow, too. Maybe we could even have a little romance this time."

"Rather than the romance that mixed drinks provide?" I asked, laughing.

"Yeah, something like that," he answered.

After we paid our bill, we drove back to my apartment. I live in a small building, with only four apartments, and they're pretty generously sized. I had a spare room because I was between apartment mates, but had decided to go without one for a while. I was enjoying having my own space.

I showed Josh around the apartment, and we set his bag in his room before settling down in the living room to watch Thursday night television.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Josh?"

"Is it moving too fast to ask to come sit by you?" he asked, totally serious.

"No, no it's not," I answered, patting the couch next to me.

Josh settled down on the couch, and then turned a little, pulling me toward him. I ended up leaning against him, my back to his firm chest, with a bowl of popcorn in my lap. We watched television for a couple hours, cuddling and talking. Every time he reached over me for popcorn I was aware of all the muscles in his chest moving, and for the first twenty minutes I was pretty aware of how happy he was to see me, but that faded to a warm lump after a while. A sizeable lump, still, but just a lump, and my own erection from being so close to him eventually faded as well.

Luckily mine had been hidden beneath the popcorn bowl.

When the last show was over, and the evening news was starting, I yawned, stretched, and pulled myself off of the couch.

"OK, Josh, it's time for me to turn in," I said.

"Do I get a goodnight kiss?" he asked, looking completely comfortable sprawled across my couch.

"I think that can be arranged," I said, leaning down.

I kissed him, softly, on the lips, feeling the smooth texture of his mouth rub across mine.

"Maybe two," I said, leaning back in.

The five o'clock shadow of stubble on my chin rubbed maddeningly on his little strip of beard as I felt his tongue just nip a little into my mouth. I opened wider, welcoming it, as he gently pressed his tongue against mine, and then he groaned into my mouth. The vibration was exquisite. His hands moved from my shoulders down my back, and I felt my knees wobbling, as if I might collapse on top of him as I held his head in my hands, running my fingers down his strong jawline. We broke, coming up for air, and I stood.

"Wow," I said. "Time for bed."

"You sure?" he asked, looking pointedly at my tented crotch. Oooops, no popcorn bowl to cover it with.

"Yeah, I'm sure," I said, laughing. His pants were looking pretty full suddenly as well. "Good night, Josh."

"Good night, Jack," he answered.

Hours later, after lying in bed steely hard and staring at the ceiling, I finally fell asleep.

When I woke up in the morning, I quickly showered and got ready for school. I found the spare key, and wrote Josh a quick note explaining when I'd be back and that he could use the key if he wanted to go out anywhere. I taped the key to it, and then snuck quietly into his room, to put it somewhere that he'd be sure to see it. Looking around, I spotted his wallet on the dresser, so I picked it up to put the note under it, and noticed another note folded up in it already. Now, before you say anything, I know it's wrong to go through someone else's things. I understand that it's immoral, and an invasion of privacy, but I was curious, so I pulled the other note out and opened it.

"Oh, my," I whispered.

It was the note I'd written when I left him in the hotel room. The creases were worn in, the edges were fraying, and the writing was a little smudged. I realized that he'd been carrying it around with him all this time. How many times had he taken it out to read it? How many times had he unfolded it, and thought of me?

"Oh, Josh," I said, looking over at him asleep in my guest bed. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing softly, his hair tousled. One muscled arm and a bare shoulder peeked out of the top of the sheet. "Josh, I hope we know what we're doing."

I thought about him all day at school. What were we doing? Was either one of us ready for a relationship? I was happy enough being alone, and he had never been with anyone. Plus there was the distance thing, and the fame thing, and so many other things. I was so busy thinking about all of this that I almost didn't noticed that the maximum number of students were signed into the library every period throughout the day. I was wondering if that many people really needed a quiet place to study before I realized that the girls must have leaked a little. Oh well. At the end of the day, I packed all my stuff up, and left the school, leaving several disappointed students in my wake.

Driving home, I thought about Josh. I really, really wanted to see him, to talk to him, to touch him. Unlocking my door, I was ready for almost anything.

Except what I found.

---

CHAPTER 3

All the shades in my apartment were drawn, and the curtains closed. Some sort of soothing ocean noise, with lots of waves crashing and rushing sounds, was playing softly on the stereo, and there were candles everywhere. There were so many candles on the shelves, tables, and floor that it looked like someone had cleaned out the entire aisle at several nearby stores. A palpable wave of vanilla scent rolled over me, and I wondered for a second if the set designer from "Days of Our Lives" had broken in and redecorated while I was at work.

The apartment door closed behind me, and I spun around to see Josh standing next to it. He was barefoot, with his toned calves, lightly dusted with dark hair, peeking out from under a loosely belted black robe. It hung open enough at the top to give the slightest glimpse of the top of his abs, and the valley between his pecs. I was immediately hard.

"Jesus!" I blurted. "Were you hiding behind the door?"

"Shhh," he said, putting a finger over my lips.

Josh took my bag and set it down by the door, and then took my hand and began to lead me across the apartment.

"Where are we going? I asked impishly, smirking. "Out to Target to buy more candles?"

Grinning, he put that finger over my lips again.

"Shhhh," he said. "I mean it."

He began leading me by hand across the living room again. His hands, as always, were smooth, and I squeezed, feeling him squeeze back.

"Josh, seriously, at least tell me you took the batteries out of the smoke detectors," I said practically.

"Don't make me gag you," he chuckled.

I was about to turn that into a really horrific pun, but he seemed determined to carry out some sort of scenario, so I decided to remain quiet. We passed my dining room table, and I saw that it was set for two, with plates and wineglasses that I know I didn't own yesterday and several tall candles in simple glass holders. Josh slid the stereo remote out of a pocket in his robe and turned it up a little as we walked past, and then he led me into the bedroom.

If I'd thought that the living room was overcandled, the bedroom made me want to buy stock in a wick company. Candles of all sizes, from pillar to votive, lined every available space. Instead of the heady scent of vanilla that had almost been on the verge of overpowering in the living room, the scent in the bedroom was lighter, almost floral, but also citrus. The lights in here were also off, and all the curtains were closed, and the bed was casually made up with black satin sheets, which I also hadn't owned yesterday. On one hand, it seemed crushingly romantic, if almost over the top. It was obvious that he spent the whole day putting in a lot of effort on this, which touched me more than a thousand candles ever would.

Josh stood me in front of the bed, and then started to undo my tie.

"Ooooh," I said, giggling. "What are we about to do?"

"Not what you think," he answered. "At least, not right away. Now be quiet."

He pulled my tie off, and the wrapped it around my head, tying it in the back.

"Is that too tight?" he asked. I shook my head. "Jack, do you trust me?"

"Yes, Josh, I do," I answered, wishing I could see him.

"Then I want you to just let go, and enjoy this," he said, taking my head in both his hands. "OK?"

"Sure," I said, suddenly feeling his breath on my cheeks.

Josh kissed me, softly, on the mouth.

"No more words," he whispered, his cheek scraping mine as his tongue flicked my ear.

His hands returned to my collar, and began undoing the buttons. Gently he worked his way down to my waist, and then his hands slid inside my shirt. Feather-light and smooth, I felt his hands slide across my chest. A thumb flicked over each of my nipples, just once, as his hands rolled over my shoulders, pushing the shirt off. Tugging gently, he pulled it out of my pants, and I heard a crumpling fall as it landed over on the floor somewhere, hopefully not in a candle.

He was quiet for a second, and then I felt his hands at my belt, quickly undoing it and sliding it out of my pants. It also fell to the floor with a tinkling of the buckle, and then I felt his hands sliding down my left leg. I guessed that he was taking off my shoe, and was proven right when he gripped my calf lightly, and lifted. I lifted, and he pulled off my shoe, and then my sock. I had to lean down and put my hands on his shoulders to steady myself, as he repeated the process on my right leg. Touching his smooth skin, and feeling the muscles moving gently beneath, I realized that he'd lost the robe at some point.

He slid sinuously up my body as my hands slid down his. I cupped his ass, and began to slide my hands around to the front, but he gently took my hands and held them. Whatever he was planning, I wasn't going to be touching until he was ready for me to. Letting go of my hands, he moved his back to my waist, undoing the button and zipper on my pants. Pulling them open, he let them drop to the floor. One of his hands, quickly but firmly, slid over my throbbing cock, squeezing gently, just once.

I almost came right then.

Barely touching my skin, his hands again slid up my chest, stopping again to flick both nipples, before settling on my shoulders and pushing me gently backwards toward the bed. When I felt the mattress hit the back of my legs, I sat on the end, and felt Josh's hair, that lush brown and blonde streaked mop, brush my knees as he knelt to pull my pants off. I felt his hands at my waist again, gently tugging at my boxers, and I lifted my ass so that he could slide those off as well. Sitting naked on the end of the bed, I could feel myself leaking like a faucet, and I gasped as I felt his tongue flick out over the head of my cock, just once. My hips lurched involuntarily, and I heard him chuckle.

"Jack, slide up the bed, please," he whispered.

His voice was low and husky, tinged with lust. You don't hear it that way on a CD or the radio, and it was turning me on even more. Blindfolded, I felt like all of my other sense were running on overtime, and I was hyper aware of the feeling of the satin sheets caressing my body as I slid up the bed until I felt my head land on the pillows. I felt his hand on one of my shoulders, holding and caressing it.

"Jack, roll over, please," he whispered again.

I rolled over, and he lifted my arms and placed them, folded, under my chin, so that my head was resting on them. I felt the bed shifting a little as he climbed on, and I wondered what was coming next. I couldn't picture exactly how he was sitting, because I couldn't feel him anywhere, and I jumped a little as I felt his hands on either side of my neck.

"Shhhhh," he hissed, the sound blending into the relaxing sounds of the ocean waves on the stereo.

Carefully, but firmly, I felt his strong hands begin to massage my neck. I began to settle into the bed, feeling the tension drain out of me, hugged by those silken sheets, breathing in the soft scent of the candles, listening to the soothing crash of waves on some distant and probably non-existent beach, as his hands moved from my neck to one shoulder, and then to the other. I don't know where he learned to give massages like a pro, but I was melting like butter under his touch, light but gentle, firm but not forceful. Still, I could only feel his hands, and tried to imagine how he was pulling that off.

He stopped for a second, and I heard glass sliding over something, and suddenly felt something cool, but not uncomfortably cold, drip into the middle of my back, just between the wings of my shoulder blades. He set the bottle down again, with a clink of glass on my nightstand, and then ran his hands through the small pool of oil on my back. It immediately began to warm, and his hands, smooth before, now glided like silk over my skin. He started with my neck again, repeating the entire massage he's just given me, but now it was even more exquisite. I heard myself groan a few times, and I sighed deeply as he worked over my shoulders again. By the time he was done, I wasn't thinking about anything at all. I was lost in the feeling of his touch, and then I felt his breath next to my ear.

"Turn over," he whispered, tugging at my earlobe with his teeth.

I rolled over slowly, tantalized by the sheets now that they were sliding over my hypersensitive oiled skin. Unsure of what to do with my arms, I kept them at my sides, but not rigidly.

Josh kissed me again, but not quickly this time. It was one of the long, deep kisses he was so good at, the kind you could get lost in. My hands came up to his head, and I felt his hands slide over them, holding them.

"Jack, do you trust me?" he asked again.

"Yes," I answered again.

He took my left hand, and pulled it above my head. I felt silk slide over my wrist, and realized that he was using another tie to attach my hand to the bedpost.

"Too tight?" he asked.

I shook my head, and felt him do the same to the right hand.

I've never really been one for being tied up, but I trusted him implicitly.

My cock was so hard it hurt.

I heard the bottle again, and felt another dollop of oil land in the middle of my chest. The cold was surprising, and I twisted against the ties at the top of the bed. My cock throbbed, and then I felt Josh's hands sliding over my chest, pushing and kneading. He worked his way up to my shoulders, and around my neck, thumbs flicking over my jawline. I felt his teeth, quickly again, take the smallest bite at my earlobe as his hands went to work on both my nipples, tugging and twisting, pinching softly, but firmly enough that my head tossed against the pillows and I groaned again, unable to stop myself. His hands flowed down my abdomen, playing over my abs. My hips lurched upward in anticipation, feeling for the hands that weren't yet there, and then I felt him let go.

I almost came again when I felt a quick streak of oil run the length of my throbbing cock. I could feel the blood pounding in time to my racing pulse. My whole body felt like it was focused on my cock. My nerves were on fire, burning, waiting for Josh's touch, and then I felt it, like he had a hundred hands at once. His hands slid in tandem up my pole, tugging and stroking. A palm rolled over my head as another kneaded and tugged at my balls, cupping them in one hand as he began to jerk me off with the other. My back arched as my hips jerked off the bed, and I was tossing my head from side to side as I moaned and grunted, my arms twisting and pulling above me as Josh pulled faster and faster.

"Josh, Jesus, Josh," I yelped, almost there.

I felt it building, and then, just as I was on the brink, I felt Josh's lips slide over the head of my cock, and I was completely over the edge. I shot and shot again into his mouth, screaming his name, every muscle in my body taught as my entire being strained into the most explosive orgasm I'd ever experienced. Josh swallowed, and continued swallowing, moaning around my cock as the humming vibration pushed me to shoot again.

Completely spent, I collapsed back into the bed, trying to catch my breath. Josh untied one hand, and then the other, and I just let them drop above my head on the pillows. I felt his breath on my face again as his hands reached behind my head to untie the blindfold. The first thing I saw, opening my eyes as I felt it slide off, was his face above mine. His eyes, sparkling in the candlelight, were locked on mine, and I felt myself falling into him.

"Oh, Josh," I panted, unsure of what to say.

"Jack," he answered, smiling. "Let's get you into the shower."

He took my hand and pulled me off the bed, and I followed him into the bathroom. He didn't turn on the bathroom lights, but there wasn't a need for them, as every available surface was covered in candles here as well. I hoped neither one of us had to pee, since we'd have to blow out the ten candles on the toilet lid. Josh's flawless skin was golden in the candlelight, and the shadows streaked enticingly across his abs and pecs as he drew the curtain aside and turned on the water. The water cascaded over him, and I couldn't help but notice that a stream of it was coursing off of his jutting prick as he held out an arm to me. I followed him into the shower and felt the warm water wash over me.

Josh lathered up a washcloth and began to wash my chest, and arms. Tenderly he knelt in the shower, and swiped the washcloth over both my legs, before turning me around to do my back. When he finished, I took the washcloth from him and did his back, and then worked over his front. I lingered on his chest and neck, and carefully washed over his cock, stopping just short of jerking him off with the washcloth as I watched him shudder, leaning against the wall of the shower with his eyes closed.

"Josh, duck your head under, " I sighed.

He closed his eyes and ducked his head under the nozzle as I poured a little shampoo into my palm. When his hair was wet, I began to gently rub it into his hair, careful not to tangle it or get any in his eyes. I've always enjoyed having someone stroke my hair, massaging my scalp, and a shampoo is just an extension of that. Josh's toes were practically curling as I rubbed my hands gently over his head, building up the lather.

"OK, rinse," I said.

As he leaned over under the spray again, I dropped to my knees, and, careful not to get any shampoo suds on my tongue, took him completely into my mouth and down my throat in one swallow. His hands dropped to my shoulders, gripping them, as I suckled on him, tasting the water and, under it, his slightly salty flavor. Eager to please him, I went quickly, sucking hard and lashing his cock with my tongue. My hands roamed over his legs, feeling the dusting of hair on his calves, and the strength of his thighs. I cupped his ass, feeling the strength there, as well, and just as I brushed a finger over his hole I pulled him deep into my throat, swallowing his head, and heard him yelp, just once, as he shot quickly down my throat.

I slid my hands up his body as I stood, feeling his abs flex, concave and then convex, as he panted and caught his breath. I ran my fingers lightly in circles around his hard nipples as I leaned in to nuzzle under his neck. He sighed, and I looked up at his face.

"Josh?" I asked.

His blue eyes slid slowly open, and he smiled.

"Hi there," he sighed.

"Hi," I said, leaning in to kiss him again.

We stood under the spray, just kissing, coming up for air, and kissing again, until we began to feel wrinkly, and then Josh turned the water off. We slid out of the shower together, still kissing, hands sliding over each other, as Josh reached for a towel. He dried me off, gently patting me down, and then held out a robe identical to the black one he'd been wearing earlier. It was a soft velvety cotton, thick and comfortable. After I tied the belt I dried Josh off, being just as careful as he'd been, and then we retrieved his robe from the bedroom, and he slid it on.

After he tied it, I took him in my arms and kissed him yet again. I didn't think I'd get enough of it, ever. His mouth had a sweet taste that I enjoyed, and he could do things with his tongue that an anteater would envy, dipping and sliding through my mouth without being sloppy. Every kiss with Josh was like the first one, or, in our particular case, the second. As his tongue slid over mine, and he gave another of those humming moans, I became acutely conscious of him being in me, penetrating me, and that made me feel even hotter. I began to press even harder against him.

And then heard the oven bell go off in the kitchen.

"Dinner's ready," Josh said, pulling off of me. He took my hand and led me to the table.

"Do you need help?" I asked, trying to stand. He pushed me back down, gently, with a hand on my shoulder.

"Stay in your chair," he said, smiling. "I have everything under control."

Josh appeared from my kitchen bearing a huge tray of lasagna. He set it down in front of me, on potholders, and disappeared into the kitchen again. This time, he returned with a large bowl of salad, and then finally with a bottle of red wine. He poured me a glass, and then finally sat down next to me.

"Josh, this is amazing," I said, spooning out a large chunk of lasagna with the spatula. "And it looks good. You didn't make this with stuff from my kitchen."

"Just the utensils," he agreed, passing the salad. "You don't cook much, do you?"

I sighed.

"I do sometimes," I said, sipping my wine. "Sometimes I'll cook a lot, and put it away in the fridge. It just gets depressing cooking for one person. About the only thing that comes in a one person size is mac and cheese, and that's not the most filling, healthiest dinner."

He looked at me with this warm expression of complete caring and sympathy, and I realized how lonely and depressing this made my life sound.

"I eat out a lot," I added, as if that would help. "This is really good. I didn't know you could cook."

"What, you think we have people to do that?" he asked, laughing.

"Something like that," I agreed. "Sorry."

"Actually, Justin couldn't cook to save his life," Josh said, laughing. "Chris says he probably doesn't even know how to turn a real stove on, and that the only reason he can use a microwave is because it has buttons."

We both laughed.

"You guys really are like a family, aren't you?" I asked. "I mean, they talk about it on TV, but you really seem like brothers."

"We are," he answered. "They're my best friends, and it seems like we've been together forever. We're like a big family, but not just in all the good ways. That's why we take time off after the tours, before we can get really snippy with each other."

"Makes sense," I said. Familiarity could breed contempt, I guess, even in boy bands. "So where did you learn to cook like this?"

"Honestly?" he asked.

"No, I'd rather that you lie, " I said, smirking. "Yes, honestly."

"From my gramma," Josh said, looking across the table with a dreamy, faraway expression. "She used to always have something going in her kitchen, all different food, and it was always for at least forty people. She was always stirring, or chopping, or making up plates for the older people who lived around the neighborhood. Her kitchen always smelled like food, and baking, and it always makes me think of her when I smell something cooking."

I realized I was staring at him.

"Too sappy?" he asked.

"No, it's the sweetest thing I've ever heard," I said, taking his hand. "You're a hell of a man, Joshua."

"So are you," he said, squeezing my hand back.

"So," I began, looking around.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Where does one buy this many candles?" I asked.

"Trade secret," he answered, smiling. "I'll never tell."

We ate dinner slowly, enjoying the food and the company. Josh talked a little more about his family, and asked about mine.

"I don't really talk to my family," I said, shaking my head. "We just never got along, really. They always paid more attention to my older brother, and I was kind of the kid in the background. And then, you know, they didn't take the gay thing too well, either."

"Was it bad?" Josh asked, his face lined with concern.

"Not the way you're thinking, " I said. "There wasn't an ugly scene, or a screaming match. I didn't get disowned. They just became, I don't know, more distant than they already were. We just talked less and less."

"What do you do at holidays?" he asked.

"We send cards, you know, and we call each other, but that's it," I said, shaking my head.

"Hey," he said, lifting my chin with a finger. "It's not your fault."

"Oh, I know," I said, smiling. "But thanks."

Eventually we decided that we were both full, and moved into the living room, carrying the wine and our glasses. We sat across from each other, Josh sprawled across the couch and me slumped in the recliner, just talking. Eventually, Josh ran out of wine.

"I'm empty again," he said, holding up his glass.

"Oh no," I said, holding up the bottle.

He walked over, and I playfully held the bottle out of reach.

"Want some?" I asked, taking a sip off the bottle.

"Sure do," he answered, dropping to his knees.

I took another sip, holding it in my mouth, and he leaned in and kissed me again, drinking it out of my lips. He took the bottle.

"That's good wine," he said, taking another sip.

I kissed him, feeling the wine slide around in my mouth.

"Damn good," I agreed.

He held out the bottle, and poured a drop onto my chin.

"Oh no," he said. "I spilled some."

"Better clean it off," I said, pulling his head down.

His tongue snaked across my chin, and then down my neck. I kept one hand on the back of his head, laced through his hair, and started rubbing his back with the other. He dripped more wine onto my chest, pulling the robe open, and then he undid the belt. Standing up, he schucked his robe to the floor and stood above me, glowing in the candlelight.

I looked from his beautiful face down his neck to his heaving chest. He was breathing heavily, and his nipples stood out like pencil erasers, small and brown and tight. The veins in his arms stood out, and he held the wine bottle loosely in one hand. His abs were tight, and his cock, steely hard, bounced against them like a drum.

"God, you're beautiful," I said, staring at him standing above me, hard and ready.

"You, too," he said, looking down at me. "And I'm still thirsty, too."

He turned the wine bottle over, spilling it over me, and then tossed it aside and fell on me like a desert traveler at an oasis. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, crawling over my collarbone, sliding across a nipple, dipping into my navel to scoop out the wine there. I had both my hands laced through his hair, pushing, but not forcing, his head lower, until he was on me, licking and sucking. Unlike the rather quick effort I'd put forth in the shower, he took his time with this one, licking over and over, up and down my length, only briefly taking me into his hot mouth. His hands slid up my legs, caressing my calves as he tried to swallow me. For someone who hadn't been with anyone else, he was a damn good natural.

"Oh, God, Josh," I sighed, feeling his velvety lips roll over my cockhead again. "Oh, God."

Taking this as encouragement, he began to go faster, swirling his tongue around my cock, bobbing and swallowing. I looked down, and saw his lips stretched around me, and knew I was close. He looked up at me, and looking into his eyes I shot down his throat.

"That was fun," he said, crawling back up to kiss me.

"It surely was," I said, kissing him back. "I've seen that in movies, but they never mention how messy it is. This chair is soaked."

He laughed.

"So, Josh," I said, grabbing his cock. I ran my hand over his length, stopping at the head to swirl a little drop of precum over the top as he gasped and smiled. "Are you horny, Josh?"

"Yeah," he panted.

"Really horny?" I asked, stroking a little faster, stopping every couple seconds to give the head a good squeeze, or palm my hand over it.

"Yes," he panted again. "Oh, yeah."

"Good," I said, stopping. He jerked his head up in surprise. "Because now, we're going to go into the bedroom, and lay down on those satin sheets, and you're going to fuck me."

---

CHAPTER 4

The look on Josh's face was priceless, a clash of lust, surprise, and a little nervousness.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyebrows knitting earnestly. "Because, I mean, I've never, you know, with a guy."

"That's ok," I said, holding his face in my hands. "I have, and I want you to."

"You trust me that much?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered, standing. I hugged him to me, our cocks grinding together as my hands roamed across his ass. "I want to be your first, and I want to feel you inside me."

"OK," he said, licking my collarbone.

I left my robe, wine-soaked and uncomfortable, sitting in the equally wine-soaked chair, and led Josh across the room by his cock, holding it gently but squeezing it every few steps. I stroked it once, and felt him shudder.

"Jack," he whispered, through clenched teeth. "Oh, God."

"Let me know if you get too close," I said, pulling him into the bedroom.

I let go of him and walked to the dresser, removing a tube of lubricant and a few condoms from the top drawer. Josh watched me nervously.

"Do we really need those?" he asked.

I chuckled.

"I don't know what you've read, or where, but yeah, we do," I said. I held up the lube. "If we don't use some of this, it's gonna be hell getting you in, and it's going to hurt me a little, too."

"I'd never hurt you," he said quickly.

I hugged him.

"I know, Josh, I know," I said. "I'm just letting you know. I want this to be good for you, like you wanted tonight to be good for me, but I also want you to learn, too. You know, because I'll probably want you to do this again, and it'll save time if I don't have to explain it again."

I smiled, and he pointed at my other hand, which held the condoms.

"Do we need those?" he asked. "I mean, you already, you know, swallowed, and it's not like you're getting pregnant, either."

"Valid points," I said. I decided to save a tedious discussion of barebacking's pros and cons for later. "This'll make cleaning up easier, Josh."

A fleeting look crossed his face, as if he was just now thinking about what he was going to do, and I realized my practical, educational discussion was quickly stifling the romantic mood. I threw myself backwards onto the bed, and bent one leg at the knee. Setting the lube and the rubbers aside for a second, I held out a hand to him, and he took it. I pulled him down onto the bed.

"Shouldn't you be on your stomach?" he asked.

"We can try that later," I said, stroking the side of his face lightly with the fingers of one hand. I could feel his heart beating quickly as our chests pressed against each other, nipples scraping. "For now, I want to see you."

I pushed a lock of his bangs out of his eyes.

"Josh, this has been the most amazing, romantic night of my life," I whispered, gazing into his deep blue eyes. "Nobody's ever done anything like this for me, and I want to give you something no one else ever has. Make love to me, Josh."

"Jack," he whispered, leaning closer. I watched his eyes grow larger and larger, and then his mouth brushed over mine, feather light. Not every kiss has to be long and deep to be good. He whispered huskily into my ear. "Tell me what to do."

I slid a pillow under the small of my back, raising me up a little.

"Give me your hand," I whispered.

He held out his hand, and I squirted a generous portion of lubricant into it. With my hand I spread it around.

"Now, why don't you take this," I said, guiding his hand down to my ass, "and put it here."

His touch was tentative, barely there, and I decided to give him a little encouragement by wrapping my lubed hand around his cock. His hips jerked toward me, and I began to very slowly slide my hand up and down his pole. His head tilted back, and I slid my free hand up his neck and pulled his head, gently, so he was looking down at me.

"Do me, Josh, just like this, " I whispered, rubbing down his cock. His hips jerked again, and he sucked in his breath, but his hand began to move on my ass, spreading the lube around. "That's right, Josh, that's perfect."

I began stroking his cock a little faster, squeezing lightly on the downstrokes, and occasionally rubbing my palm over the head. He began to pant, but his hand was also working busily at my ass.

"That's it, baby, that's it, " I whispered, my eyes locked onto his. He stared down at me, his eyes growing distant as he began to lose himself in what he was feeling. His mouth was open a little, his soft pink lips hanging apart as he began to breath faster. I began stroking a little faster still. "Inside, Josh, get it inside, too."

He gently pushed a finger into my ass, concern washing over his face to make sure I was ok.

"That's good, Josh, that's good," I whispered, still stroking. "Gentle, just like that. Get me ready, Josh, get me ready for you."

He stared down at me, his chest heaving. I could see that his nipples were hard, and I tweaked one with my free hand. He pushed a second finger in. I was completely relaxed, and decided I was ready enough. Stopped stroking his cock, which was now dripping all over my hand, and handed him a condom.

"Here, put this on," I said, grabbing the lube again. I squeezed a little more into my hand, and slid my palm over his now-covered, steel hard cock, feeling it jerk and throb in my hand. "I want you, Josh, I want you so badly right now. I want you right here."

I pulled his cock toward my hole, and pressed the head against it. Josh was propped up on his arms above me, almost like he was about to do push ups, so excited he was trembling.

"Put it in me, Josh," I whispered, one hand still on his cock and the other on his neck, keeping his face tilted toward mine. "Put your cock in me, Josh."

He pushed, and I pushed, and I felt the head pop through the tight ring of my sphincter.

"Ugh," he grunted as my back arched, pushing my head backward into my pillow. My face twisted in a mixture of lust and discomfort, and I made a small sound. He started to pull back, but I grabbed his ass with the hand I'd had on his cock, and held him in place. He whispered urgently.

"Jack, am I hurting you?"

"No, Josh, no," I answered. "It's just been a while. Go slow, ok?"

"OK," he said, pushing a little more in.

I pulled him slowly, guiding him in with the hand on his ass, and still using my other hand to keep his face parallel to mine. His eyes closed, briefly, as the nervousness smoothed out of his face.

"Oh, Jack," he whispered, sliding another inch into me. "Oh, Jack, oh, God."

"That's it, Josh," I encouraged. "That's the way. Nice and slow."

He groaned softly as the last few inches of his cock slid into me up to the hilt. He was shaking from the effort of holding himself above me and from what he was feeling, so I used the hand on his neck to pull him down until he had settled gently on top of me. He panted into my neck, holding still, waiting for me to tell him it was ok. The tip of his cock was pressed against my prostate, and the waves of pleasure blotted out everything else.

"Do it, Josh," I whispered, and felt him begin to move.

Gently he began rocking atop me, moving only a little at first. I kissed his forehead, and his closed eyelids, panting encouragement as he began to pump faster.

"Yeah, Josh, yeah, that's it, " I moaned.

He began to go even faster, with long, smooth strokes, stabbing at my prostate on his inward thrusts. He may not have been with a guy before, but he'd obviously had a lot of experience with girls. He began to pump faster, and harder, jamming his cock into me, ringing my prostate like a bell as I squeezed him, hard, with my ass every time he plunged in.

I ran my hands down his back, now covered in a light sheen of sweat, and felt the muscles moving and jerking, playing into each other. As a dancer, he was in fantastic shape, smoothly muscular, and he was using all of his energy and endurance to pound at me. My hands slid down to his ass, feeling the muscles there flex, and I squeezed, hard, each time he pushed, pulling him even further into me. I felt his palms slide beneath my back, also sweat-slick, and then his hands settled onto the tops of my shoulders, pulling my entire torso down onto him. Our chests ground into each other, his hard, pointed nipples sliding over mine. My cock jerked against his abdominals, trapped between our bodies, rubbed and pushed as he flexed and unflexed, his six-pack like another pair of hands.

"Unh," he groaned, each time he went in. "Unh, unh, yes, unh, Jack, oh God, unh."

He began to pound my ass, my headboard banging against the wall, as his groans began to take on a high and higher pitch, turning into little yelps. Beneath him I writhed, hands working over his ass, groaning his name.

"Josh," I moaned. "Josh, yes, do it, Josh, do it!"

His stiffened above me, panting, dripping with sweat, looking down into my eyes as the cords in his neck stood out. Every muscle in his body flexed at once as he slammed his cock into me again, and I felt him jerking inside me.

"Yes," he groaned.

I grabbed his head, pulling him down to me, and jammed my tongue into his mouth. He stabbed into me again, and then another time, and his body collapsed on top of mine in a sweaty heap of muscle. That was all it took for me, and I felt my cock twitch between us as I covered both our bellies in cum.

Josh panted and caught his breath, still inside me, as I ran my hands over his head and showered his face with quick, tender kisses.

"Oh, God, Josh," I panted, lost in the glow of my own pleasure, clamping on him with my ass one last time. "That was amazing."

"Unh, yeah," he agreed, still panting.

He licked my neck, swiping some of my sweat into his mouth. I grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand as he gently eased out of me, and used it to pull the condom off. Crumpling it up, I dropped it to the floor, where against all odds it managed not to land in a candle. I reached for more tissues, to clean up our stomachs, but Josh grabbed them from me.

"No, let me," he whispered.

I stretched back over the bed, aware again of the smooth caress of the silk sheets, tangled mess that they now were, as he carefully, tenderly wiped my belly and cock clean. He leaned down and flicked his tongue over my now-sensitive cockhead, sighing as my cock jerked. After he cleaned himself off he slid up next to me on the bed, looking into my eyes again.

"Thank you," he whispered, kissing me.

"No, thank you," I said, smiling. "You were amazing."

"Not as much as you," he whispered.

I stared into his eyes, aware of the perfect shape of his face, the cheekbones with their smooth symmetry, his soft mouth, with its tender lips and that little patch of beard beneath, a strip of roughness that somehow just enhanced all of his smoothly perfect beauty. His hair was pushed back from his head, twisted and wrung by my hands in the midst of our lovemaking, and wet with sweat. From there my eyes curved down his perfectly arching eyebrows and fell again into those two deep pools of sea and sky.

"I love you, Jack," he whispered, kissing me. "I've waited my whole life to say that to someone and mean it, Jack. I love you."

"I love you, too, Josh," I answered, returning his kisses with equal fervor.

We fell asleep cradled against each other, with his hand on the side of my face, and our legs casually intertwined, the candles burning all around us, covering the room in a warm glow.

When I woke up, misty beams of sunlight slanted in around the edges of the shades, giving the room a softly diffused glow. Most of the candles had gone out during the night, burning themselves down in fantastic twists and swirls of wax, but a few of them still guttered and flickered, the wicks all but lost in their deep pools. I crept carefully to the bathroom, needing desperately to pee, and had a frantic minute of trying to hold it while moving all of the candle stubs, set in fans and arcs of waxen spills, off of the toilet lid so that I could get it open.

I looked at myself quickly in the mirror, and noticed a dark reddish bruise at the base of my neck. Giggling and shaking my head, I realized that it would be a week to keep my collars buttoned at work, and also realized that I hadn't had a hickey in years, much less felt the need to cover one up.

When I padded barefoot back into the bedroom, Josh was still asleep, looking blissfully relaxed on the bed, face pointed up toward the ceiling, muscled arms flung to either side. Following the line of symmetry down his body, between his pecs, over his abs, and to that tiny trail of dark hair below his navel that peeked up above the edge of the black sheet, I noticed that his face wasn't the only thing pointing up. I decided to surprise him with a friendly wake up.

Standing at the foot of the bad, I grasped the sheet, and very slowly pulled it down, revealing his hard cock, arching up toward his stomach from his dark pubes. As I pulled the sheet over him, he stirred a little, probably from the feel of the silk rubbing him down, but he didn't wake up. I crawled carefully up the bed, until my face was just over his cock, and I flicked my tongue out, quickly, and swiped at his balls. He twitched a little, but still didn't wake up, and I began to lick them in earnest, washing over his sack with my tongue. Bunching my tongue a little, I jabbed roughly at his balls as I licked them, rolling one and then the other into my mouth. He began to twist and shudder a little, but still was not awake.

His cock, on the other hand, was now wide awake. As hard as it had looked before, it was now throbbing, pulsing visibly in rhythm with his heartbeats. A sparkling pearl of precum appeared at his slit, and I ran my tongue up the length of his cock to catch it before it could fall onto his abs. Catlike, I licked carefully at his cock, up and down the shaft and around the head, pausing to dip the end of my tongue into his slit again before going back to my careful oral worship of him.

Throughout this Josh began to make little, half-sleepy moans, and to twist on the bed. His head started to swing from side to side, and he began breathing faster, and I wondered what kind of dream his subconscious must be crafting out of the stimulation I was giving him. It better have been a dream about me.

Still swiping my tongue over him like a kid with a candy cane, I grabbed the tube of lubricant off the nightstand and squeezed a little into my hand. Quickly lubing myself up, I grabbed one of the condoms, tore it open, and rolled it down his cock. Spreading lube over his prick with one hand, I quickly slid up his body, straddling him, and, still stroking him, positioned his head at my hole. In one quick movement, I sat down on him, feeling him slide all the way inside me.

"Ungh, yeah," I grunted, even as his eyes popped open.

"Jack?" he asked sleepily, looking up into my face, not quite comprehending what was going on. I squeezed my asshole, contracting hard around him, and his hips jerked. "Oh, God."

I began to ride him, slowly, as he stared up at me, smiling. He ran his hands up and down my sides, finally settling them on my hips as I gently slid up and down him.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," I grunted, throwing my head back fro a second before staring again into his eyes.

Josh stared at me with unbridled lust, his face smooth and flushed with pleasure.

"Morning," he panted.

He used his hands on my hips, to guide me, even as I felt his hips begin to thrust beneath me. I ran my hands over his chest, scratching lightly, and rubbed my fingers over his nipples. He smiled. Like myself, I had discovered that Josh, too, was a nipple man, and loved to have his played with during sex. I rolled their hard tips between my fingers, watching him wince as his hips bucked even harder, and I began to move myself faster on him. Both of us were moaning and groaning together, and the bed was squealing as it shook and rocked.

Josh began to pant more, and stared into my eyes. His whole body was straining beneath mine as he pushed into me. Above him, I felt warm fire burning through my body with every thrust. His breathing began to get thready, slipping into those tiny yelps again, and then his whole body went rigid beneath me, cords standing out, muscles tight. I thought he had looked beautiful in his pleasure last night, with the light of the candles and the play of shadow though the bedroom, but in the bright daylight he was flawless, simply stunning, a greek sculpture of absolute rapture beneath me. I grabbed his nipples again, twisting them hard, as I felt him spurt into me.

Josh's hands slid up to my shoulders and pulled my face down to his, where he jammed his tongue into my mouth. His cock, still buried in me, gave a few final spurts as his hips jerked, slower, and then not at all. I leaned up, staring down at him as he panted and grinned.

"I'll say it again, Josh," I panted, equally exerted. "Good morning."

"Good God," he answered. "That was incredible."

"Thanks," I said, sliding carefully off of him and reaching for the tissues. I kissed him quickly on the mouth as I cleaned him off. "So were you."

I went into the bathroom and quickly wiped myself off, thinking idly that I needed a shower, but not really feeling like taking one just yet. My body was a little stiff, and a little sore, but not in a painful way. It was more of the stiffness you feel after a particularly good workout, and I reflected idly that none of the machines at the gym had ever left me feeling quite so bowlegged.

Josh was still lying on the bed, catching his breath and staring dreamily at the ceiling, when I came out of the bathroom. Spotting yesterday's boxers crumpled on the floor with all of my other clothes, I slid them on and walked carefully into the living room, to survey the scene.

"Hmmm," I hummed to myself, looking around.

The lasagna, however good it had been, was more or less a total loss, not having made it into the refrigerator. The same could be said for the salad. Over by my chair, which was starting to smell a little vinegary, even from the doorway, the wine bottle lay on its side, a few splotches of reddish purple visible on the carpet below the mouth. Like the bedroom, there was candle wax everywhere, as the candles had burned themselves and heated their neighbors into burning quickly as well.

Figuring I had to start somewhere, I began to put the plates and silverware into the lasagna pan, and then I felt Josh's hands sliding up my chest from behind. They settled onto the back of my neck, and I felt his breath on my cheek as he nuzzled my face with his. I lifted a hand to stroke his hair.

"Whatcha doing?" he asked.

"Cleaning up, silly," I answered. "Can't leave this here all day."

"Are you sure?" he asked, one of his hands drifting down to squeeze lazily at my cock, half hard in my boxers. "I can think of better things we could do."

"I can't believe you still have the energy for that," I said, smiling.

"Well, you know, that was a hell of a wakeup call," he said, chuckling.

It was extremely sexy feeling his stomach crunch against my back as he laughed.

"Thanks," I said. "We also provide towels and breakfast here at Chez Jack."

He began to kiss the side of my face, and then down to the nape of my neck.

"OK, Josh," I said, turning around. I took his face in my hands and quickly pecked him on the lips. "As much fun as this is, we need to do a little cleanup before something starts to rot in here."

"OK," he said, grabbing the salad bowl. "Once we finish, though, you're mine."

"Silly boy," I said, picking up the lasagna pan. "I'm already yours."

He blushed, and I followed him into the kitchen. While Josh scraped the food into the garbage can, I filled the sink with water and dish soap, and we just threw the dishes in. I walked carefully through the apartment, collecting up clothing from hither and yon, while Josh opened the shades, letting the sunlight in. I stood next to him with the laundry basket while we looked around the room.

"You know, this always looks really romantic when you see it on TV," he said. "Nobody ever mentions cleaning it up."

I put a hand on his shoulder.

"It was really romantic," I said, chuckling. "But what the hell am I going to do with this many candles?"

"I don't know," he answered laughing. "Do you have a box or something?"

"They didn't come in one?" I asked, incredulous.

"No," he answered. "And I threw all the bags away."

"OK, OK," I said. "Come on, we'll figure out something."

In the end I turned out to have a couple of collapsed boxes in the closet of the guest room, and we busied ourselves for a while loading candles and candle stumps into them. I decided to save time, and sanity, by leaving the collections of them on the windowsills, as they fit in rather nicely with my Spartan dcor. We spent most of the afternoon walking around the apartment, both in t-shirts, me in my boxers and Josh in his boxer-briefs, scraping wax off of tabletops and shelves with butter knives from my kitchen. I decided to write the chair off as a total loss, which wasn't really that major considering how old it was, and Josh promised to buy me another one, despite my repeated insistence that I could afford my own furniture. He tried to throw the wine bottle away, and I pulled it out of his hand.

"Not that," I said, carrying it to the bedroom. I set it down on the dresser.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, you know," I said, blushing. "I want to save it."

"You really are a big softie, " he said, hugging me. We both sighed.

"If you ever tell anyone I admitted to that, my ass is permanently off limits," I said.

"My lips are sealed," he whispered.

"Hopefully just in that particular regard," I said.

We went back to cleaning up my apartment, and finally decided that it was passable enough. After putting our clothes into the washer, we pulled on jeans, sneakers, and baseball caps, and drove down to the video store, picking up a pizza on our way back. Se settled onto my couch to watch a movie, forced to share now that the chair was out of commission, but neither of us minded the imposition. After we finished eating, we settled into the same position we'd watched television in the other night, with me cradled against him. He gently and absentmindedly massaged the back of my neck as one of my hands idly played with his hair.

When the movies were over, we both undressed, and slid into bed. We were both aware that time was passing, and he was leaving in the morning, but neither one of us seemed to be thinking of sex as I spooned back against him. Actually, our bodies were thinking of it, but for once we ignored our hard-ons, just cuddling and basking in the warmth of being together.

In the morning, we both got up and slipped into our robes. Without talking, but with lots of kissing, we fixed a quick breakfast, Josh working quickly on some eggs while I got the toast ready and the juice poured. We ate breakfast quietly, and sipped our coffee when it was over.

"Jack, this has been the most amazing weekend of my life," Josh said finally, his hand resting on mine.

"Mine, too, Josh," I said.

"I know it's kind of early for this, but I love you, Jack," he said, gazing at me.

"I love you, too, Josh," I answered. "I'm just sorry I have to go back to work, and you have to head back, too. We'll have to do this again, really soon, because I don't know what I'm gonna do without you here."

He looked thoughtfully at me for a minute, his eyes wide, and I realized that he was nervous.

"It's funny you should mention that, Jack," he began, squeezing my hand. "Because I was trying to think of how to bring this up, and I guess this is as good a way as any. I love you, Jack, and I want you to move in with me."

I thought about it for a second. I'd kind of known he was going to ask, because it fell right in line with the earnest impulsiveness with which he approached everything. I swallowed, and then gave him my answer.

"No."

Looking as if I'd slapped him, he jumped up from his chair and ran out of the room.

---

CHAPTER 5

"Josh?" I said, jumping up from the table. "Josh, wait!"

I followed him toward the guest bedroom, but he slammed the door in my face. Behind it, I could hear him slamming the closet doors open, and I realized he must be packing his bag back up.

"Josh, please open the door, " I said, leaning my head on it. "Joshua, please, let me explain."

"Why?" he demanded, jerking the door open.

I jumped back. His face was flushed, and his cheeks were wet below his watering eyes. He was trying very hard not to cry in front of me, and my own heart hurt to see him like that.

"Why?" Josh demanded again, stepping toward me. "What else are you going to say? I love you! I trusted you! I came here for you, because I thought you were what I needed, and you don't want to be with me!"

"Josh, I didn't say that," I began.

"Don't play word games with me!" he snapped, turning away. I put my hand on his shoulder, and he jerked away. "Don't fucking touch me, Jack! Just don't."

The icy tone in his voice stopped me cold. He turned back to me, his jaw locked, and one of the tears brimming over in his blazing blue eyes rolled down his cheek. He didn't even seem to realize he was crying.

"What else is there to say, Jack?" he demanded, his voice cracking. "I asked you a yes or no question, and your answer was no. What, was this all some kind of game to you? A fun weekend for you? What else are you going to say?"

I walked away from him, considering whether to say anything at all. It seemed so easy to just give up, right there.

"I was going to say I love you," I said quietly.

"Don't lie to me," he whispered.

"If you're not going to let me finish, I'm not going to talk at all, Joshua," I said, turning back around. "If you're not going to let me speak, I'll let you walk out that door right now. I'll watch you go down the sidewalk, I'll even call you a fucking cab to the airport, and it will rip my heart out, because I love you."

"But." he began, stepping toward me.

"No buts," I said. "I love you more than anyone I've ever loved in my life, and if you want to leave right now, if you really do, I'll let you, but I won't lose you if I can help it, and if I move in with you, I'll lose you, or I'll lose myself, and neither one of those is a chance I'm willing to take."

He stepped toward me, the anger visibly draining out of him. Tears still quivered in his eyes, threatening to burst forth, and I felt them in mine as well.

"Jack, I don't understand," he said. "If you love me, why don't you want to be with me?"

"Josh, I do want to be with you," I said, holding out my hands toward him. He folded into my embrace, wrapping me in one of his own. We stood still, just holding each other. "I can't move in with you, Josh."

Slowly I walked him into the guestroom, and we sat on the bed. I took his hand and held it tightly in both of mine. I looked at him, but he wouldn't look at me.

"Josh, the thing I love most about you is that you always face life head on," I began. "You attack everything with both barrels. I can hear it in your voice when you sing, and I can see it in the way you live. You throw yourself into your music and give it everything you have, and you do the same with everything around you. Just look around here. Instead of just making dinner, you spend an entire day transforming my apartment into a shrine to romance. Look at why you're here. As soon as you realized you were gay, you jumped on a plane and came to find me, because you give everything you have to whatever you're focused on. And because you love me, you've thrown yourself fully into that, too."

"And what's wrong with that?" he asked anxiously. "What's wrong with knowing what I want, or what I need, and going after it?"

"Nothing," I said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Like I said, it's one of the reasons why I love you. But Josh, have you thought about this?

He paused for a second before answering.

"Yes," he answered. "I've thought about it all weekend. When I came here I wanted to be with you, and now that I have been, I know I love you, and you love me, and I want us to be together."

"But have you thought about anything else?" I asked. "Have you thought about what it would mean to have me move in with you? Have you told your family that you're gay? Or the rest of the guys? Have you told anyone? Because once I move in with you, it's going to become fairly obvious."

"Well, no," he answered, finally looking at me. "But it doesn't matter."

"In a perfect world, no, it doesn't," I agreed. "But it does matter, Josh. And what about your career? Are you going to bring me as your date to awards shows? Out in public? Are you going to tell the world you're gay, and you don't care?"

"Do you want me to do that?" he asked.

"I want you to do whatever's best for you," I answered. "I just want you to be aware of the things that could come up. And what about us, Josh? We've been together for four days. Five if you count when we met. Do you want to move in with someone you've only known for five days?"

"Yes, if it's you," he said, but I could tell I was getting through to him.

"And Josh, what about me?" I asked. "What would I do if I moved in with you? Quit my job? Leave my friends here? Let's be realistic, Josh. It's not like I could suddenly join the band, and be a backup singer or something. Even if you found some job for me, like personal assistant or something, I don't want you to support me like that. I'm an independent person, Josh."

"I guess I understand," he said, hugging me. "But what do we do now?"

"First we dry up our tears," I said, running my finger up his cheek. He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his cheek, nuzzling against it possessively. "Then I think we should go finish breakfast before it gets cold."

"I think that's a good idea, " he said, standing. He didn't let go of my hand. "And I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked.

"For overreacting," he said. "For freaking out and not even listening to you."

"Don't apologize for being who you are, Josh," I said, hugging him. "You're one of the bravest people I know, Josh. You flew all the way out here because you believed in your heart. Don't apologize for listening to it."

"I love you, Jack," he said, pressing hard against me.

"I love you, too," I answered.

Hand in hand, we returned to the breakfast table and finished our coffee. As we sipped, we sat in silence, still holding onto each other, keeping that connection and warmth.

"So what should we do?" Josh asked finally.

"Same thing I thought the other night," I answered. "I think we should take it slow."

He nodded.

"Well, maybe we should start by having you come visit me," he suggested.

"I think I'd like that," I said, smiling.

"When?" he asked, smiling back.

"Well, if you're willing to wait, school finishes up in two weeks," I answered. "I could fly out then, and stay a week or two. Maybe even a little longer, if you want. I'm off for the whole summer."

"That'd be great," he said, grinning now. His eyes lit up.

"We'll figure out the details between now and then," I said, standing. "For now, I think we should go do the dishes."

"You wash, I'll dry," he said, following me into the kitchen.

We did the dishes, and then put them away. After that, we had a quick, hot kissing session in the kitchen, which moved to the couch in the living room. Eyeing the clock on the VCR as Josh's tongue casually reached for my tonsils, I realized we were running out of time, and pulled his head up.

"Come on," I said. "We've got to get showered and cleaned up if I'm going to get you to the airport on time."

"I'd rather just stay here," he sighed.

"Yeah, and I'd rather that you did, too, but you already told me you have to be back by tomorrow to start working in the studio," I said. "The way to make your friends like me isn't to have me hold up their next album, even indirectly."

"Maybe we should save water, " he said playfully. "You know, by showering together."

"Let's go," I said, pulling him off the couch.

"You know," he said, waiting patiently in the bathroom door while I turned on the shower, "I'm pretty sure my friends are going to like you, just because I do."

"I hope they do," I said, stepping into the shower and holding the curtain open for him. "Because I intend to be with you for a good long while."

"Me, too," he said.

The shower can definitely be a fun place when you're not in there alone. Actually, it can be a fun place when you're alone, too, but that's a totally different story. Josh was suddenly feeling very playfully, snapping my bare ass with the wet washcloth (why do guys in a shower area always, always feel the need to do that?) and squirting shower gel at me.

"It's all fun and games until someone washes an eye," I said, playfully flicking water at him. "Now how about we do some actual washing, rather than just running up the water bill."

"OK," he said, lathering up the washcloth. "Who first?"

"How about you?" I said, taking it from him.

I know I've said it before, but Josh has a beautiful body. People never really think of dancers as athletes, but he was in exquisite shape, and it was a truly sensual pleasure to run the washcloth over his chest and stomach, under his arms, down his legs, and across his back. I lingered a little on his ass, feeling him jump a little, and took special care to make sure that his cock and balls got a good washing. He was throbbing and hard, again, when I was done, but I ignored it for the time being, instead finishing him off with a shampoo, like the one I'd given him the other night.

"My turn," I said, holding out the washcloth.

You don't really think about it when you're washing yourself, but being bathed by someone can be a fairly intense experience. Josh took the same care with me as I'd taken with him, scrubbing the washcloth over me, but not forcefully. Like I had, he made sure I was good and clean, working the washcloth through every nook and cranny, stopping a few times to add more shower gel. He finished up by washing my hair, as well, and while I was rinsing my head under the spray, with him standing behind me rubbing my shoulders, I remembered that he was still hard.

"Josh?" I asked, careful not to get water in my mouth.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"I want you to fuck me again, Josh, right now," I said. "I want to feel you again before you leave."

"Are you sure?" he asked. I could tell from his voice that he was excited by the idea. "I mean, we don't have anything in here."

"Just use the soap, Josh," I said, handing him the bottle.

I braced myself against the shower wall with my arms as I squat a little, and then I felt his head pressing against me.

"Do it, Josh," I encouraged.

"Yeah," he sighed, pushing in.

I felt him slide all the way in, and my groan of pleasure accompanied his sighs as the water beat down on us. He started to move, slowly, and I reached around and grabbed the back of his head, turning mine and pulling his mouth toward me.

"Harder, Josh, do it hard," I panted. He began to speed up, but still not enough. I wanted to remember this when he was gone. "Harder! Fuck me, Josh, fuck me hard!"

Josh was definitely a verbal lover, spurred on by my encouragement. I'm not usually a talker, but he seemed to enjoy it, so I tried to keep it up.

"That's it, Josh, that's it, " I groaned, feeling him pounding now. "Harder! Make me remember you, Josh."

"Yeah!" he grunted, slamming into me.

Thank God there was a mat in the shower, because we needed the traction. I felt Josh's mouth on the top of my neck, and on the side, first his mouth, and then a little nip with his teeth.

"That's it, Josh, just like that," I moaned, acutely aware of sounding like a bad porno movie.

I had both my hands pressed against the shower wall, holding myself up, and bracing me for the slam of Josh's hips meeting mine on every thrust. He had one hand on my shoulder, the fingers digging almost painfully into the muscle, and I felt the other one slide around to my cock, which he squeezed, and then began to jerk in time to his thrusts. Eventually I blew my load all over his hand, and I felt him jerking as he finally let go in my ass. He collapsed onto my back, sliding out of me, as I kept my arms braced, holding us both up.

"Oh, God," he panted.

"I love you, Josh," I said, feeling his cheek on my shoulder.

"I love you, too, Jack," he answered.

I turned around and kissed him, blissfully aware and proud of the flushed, satisfied look on his face.

"You're amazing," he said, stroking the side of my face.

"So are you," I answered.

The water began to turn cold, so we finally got out of the shower and toweled each other off. We split up, going to our separate bedrooms to get dressed, and when I was done I turned around to find him in mine.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked, checking the clock. We still had some time, but I didn't think I'd be able to get it up again. Jesus, I might not have been able to for days, actually.

"I'm all packed, but I still don't want to leave," he said, enfolding me in his strong arms.

"It'll be ok," I said. "No getting weepy, now. It's only for two weeks, and then I'll come out to see you."

"I know," he said, his head resting on my shoulder. "I can't wait."

"Me either," I said, just holding onto him. "Are you sure you packed everything? Checked the bathroom and everything?"

"Yeah, I guess," he answered.

"And you have your ticket?" I asked, trying to cover up what I was feeling with small talk.

"Yeah, I have my ticket," he said. "It's ok to say goodbye, you know."

"I never said it wasn't," I said.

"I know, but I can tell what you're doing, and I just wanted you to know it's ok," Josh said, looking at me. "I love you, Jack."

"I love you, too, Josh," I said, hugging him again.

"You know, if we don't stop hugging, we're not going to make it out of the house, much less to the airport," he said. He kissed me once, quickly, and then walked back to his room for his bag.

I sighed, watching him leave the room, and wished this didn't hurt so much. How was it possible that I could completely love someone that I'd only known for five days? How was it possible that someone so intelligent, yet also so na ve, had found his way into the deepest parts of my heart? I grabbed my car keys, and met him in the living room.

"Ready?" I asked.

"Yeah," he answered. "Just one last thing."

He pulled me toward him and planted his mouth over mine. We kissed deeply, urgently, hands sliding over each other's backs, hair getting messed up, eyes closed, and then pulled away.

"There," he said, smiling. "I guess we can go."

"I guess so," I said.

We held hands most of the way to the airport, except when I had to use both for driving. Luckily I drive an automatic, so we managed to stay connected for most of the ride. Every time I looked over at him, I found him looking over at me, as if trying to memorize every detail of my face, my hair, my eyes, my body, before he got back on the plane and left me. I assumed that was what he was doing, because that's what I was doing.

I was trying to soak up the way a little crease appeared between his eyebrows when he was thinking about something, or the way his eyes twinkled and crinkled up at the corners when he laughed. I was trying to picture the way his mouth twisted uncertainly when he was trying to find the right way to say something, or the way his whole face smoothed out when he said he loved me. I was trying to commit it all quickly to my head, to hold it in reserve for when he was gone. I was trying to keep the sound of his voice, soft and husky, or loud and strong, playing endlessly somewhere in my head. My hands wanted to remember the feel of his skin, smooth and warm, but firm beneath, or the silken mop of his hair.

I was trying to remember all of this so that when he left I wouldn't think it was all some kind of dream, some sort of fantasy, because I still didn't quite believe it was real.

Of course, I'd always have a couple large boxes of burned candle stumps to remind me, and a chair with a huge wine stain.

We parked the car, and got through airport security. If you fly first class, they have a nice, VIP lounge where you get to wait to board the plane. No one recognized Josh on the way in, and we were away from the general public in the lounge, so I figured we would get him on the plane without someone screaming, "Oh my God! It's JC!" We sat on a couch by the window, far away from the other first class passengers.

"I'm gonna miss you, kid," I said again.

"Fifteen days," he said, smiling at me. "Promise?"

"I promise," I answered.

Before he got on the plane, we hugged again, squeezing each other tight.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," I said.

As soon as he was down the boarding ramp, his gold and brown head out of sight (he looked back three times to wave), I left the airport. I'm not good at saying goodbye, and I don't stick around to see the plane taxi away. I drove home from the airport in silence, not even listening to the radio, and when I opened my apartment door I was suddenly struck by how empty it felt. Five days ago, I was happy living alone. I was thinking of how nice it was to come home to an empty apartment, to do whatever I wanted with whomever I wanted to, or with no one at all. Now my apartment was empty. I could still do whatever I wanted, but there was only one person I wanted to do it with, and he was gone.

I noticed an envelope on the dining room table, and walked over. My name was on the front, and I opened it, pulling out a letter from Josh.

Sighing, I folded the letter back up, and carried it into the bedroom, setting it down finally on the dresser top. I spent the rest of the evening reading, and then sending some e-mails to colleagues for various work-related things that could probably have waited until morning. When I finally got tired enough to go to sleep, I read the letter again, and then crawled into bed.

Inhaling deeply into my pillow, I realized the sheets and the bed smelled faintly of Josh.

"Fifteen days," I whispered. "Fifteen days."

Somewhere I hoped that Josh was thinking the same thing.