JC's Hitchhiker

Chapters 111-115

 


CHAPTER 111


JACK'S POV: 

I know that Lance didn't mean anything, and didn't realize what he'd said until afterward, but I still could have cheerfully pushed him out of the back of the bus for telling Josh that I made Chad cry again. I felt bad enough about it, but now I was in trouble, too, because Josh and I had a long discussion both of the other times about how I should learn to control my temper, and not make Chad feel so bad about the irritatingly stupid mistakes he kept making. OK, I put the last part in my own words, but that didn't mean it wasn't true. 

"I'm sorry, Jack," Lance whispered as he leaned over to take Junior's bag from me when we were getting off the bus. 

"Not your fault," I said, not wanting to give him something else to feel bad about. Lance had enough problems, and it really wasn't his fault, anyway. "You're not the one that made him cry. Again." 

"Will you guys be ok?" Lance asked, swallowing. He looked over my shoulder, and I knew that Josh was walking toward us. Even if Lance hadn't said anything, I would have known. I don't know if it was smell, or aura, or what, but I always knew if Josh was within ten feet of me. 

"Yeah, you know us," I answered. "We're always ok. It's part of our charm." 

As if to prove what I'd just said, Josh walked over and took my hand. I could tell that he was still mad, but he didn't look pissed. Instead, he had that "I'm so disappointed" look that let me know I was really in trouble. Justin told me once that when Josh gave him that look he felt like he was dying inside, and I understood completely. 

"Are you sure you don't mind if I keep Junior tonight?" Justin asked, holding him. They wore matching hopeful expressions. If Justin had a tail, it would be wagging slowly, like Junior's was in the crook of Justin's arm. 

"As long as you bring him back," I answered. Justin looked to Josh, waiting for an answer from him as well. 

"It's fine, Justin," Josh said, smiling. "He might be tired from the plane, though." 

"I'll be really careful," Justin said solemnly. "I'll take good care if him, and I'll bring him back tomorrow. I'll keep him safe, I promise." 

"I know you will," I said, nodding. Junior yawned, suddenly, and Justin did as well, causing Josh and I to both start giggling. Lance put a hand on Justin's arm, holding Junior's bag in his other hand. 

"Come on," he said, smiling at Justin. Justin beamed when Lance touched his shoulder, but I don't think either of them realized it. Their relationship was so damned complex that I didn't want to read anything into it, but it was always nice to see that they were good for each other. "Let's get both of you into bed, ok?" 

"Yeah," Justin said, yawning again as Junior leaned up to lick his chin. 

The four of us piled into the elevator, Joey and Chris having already gone up, and rode in silence. Josh still held my hand, and if you didn't know any better you'd think we were fine. I felt the tension in Josh's long fingers as they wrapped around mine, though, and when I brushed my thumb over the back of his hand, fluttering the golden brown hair there, he didn't rub his thumb on the inside of my palm. I was already thinking of things to say and ways to apologize before the elevator stopped on our floor, and he hadn't even said anything yet. Not only that, but even though I was completely justified in being pissed at Chad, I still wanted to tell Josh I was sorry for yelling at him and making him cry. 

We nodded good night to the other two, watching them walk down the hall to their suite. Justin and Lance had two beds in there, but we were never sure how many of them they were actually using. Josh and I had one bed, and I glanced at it to make sure my suitcase was there as we walked in. Josh flicked on a lamp and began checking messages on the room phone as I unzipped my suitcase and looked for the present that I'd gotten him. I didn't want to give it to him until after we talked, but when he hung up the phone he walked into the bathroom, turned on the water, and then sat on the bed and began tugging off his shoes. 

"Josh?" I asked quietly, waiting. 

"I'm going to take a shower, " he said, looking up at me. His eyes, those deep blue pools that I knew so well, were almost blank. There was warmth there, and love, but it didn't seem the same as usual. Maybe I was projecting my own thoughts onto him, thinking that he looked mad because I expected him to be. "I'm all sweaty. Are you coming in with me?" 

"Sure," I answered, and began untying my shoes. 

"I missed you," Josh said, tugging his t-shirt over his head. I felt my breath catch in my lungs seeing his chest slide into view. His summer tan was fading, but his skin still carried a little hint of his natural brown tone. His abs, as always, were a rippled sculpture below the fan of his pecs. There was a little sprinkling of hair across the top of his breastbone now, but other than that he was still mostly smooth, his skin glowing under the light of the few lamps on, and his nipples, my favorite snack, stiffened in the cold air conditioning of the room. "And I'm glad your talk went well again. Are you still glad you decided to do it?" 

"I think so," I answered, shrugging, as I stood to kick my pants off. I picked them up and began folding them without thinking about it, and smiled when I saw Josh doing the same thing with his clothes. "Our house is always going to be spotless, isn't it?" 

"My mommy raised me right," he answered, smiling. The other guys made fun of him sometimes for his teeth, which overlapped a little, and I knew he was self conscious about them, both because he'd told me and because in pictures he almost never showed them when he smiled, but I thought they gave him character. It was also the kind of flaw that made his good looks less intimidating for us ordinary people. "What kind of people was it this time?" 

"College kids," I answered, grinning. "They were so energetic, and they actually had a packed room. There were people standing against the walls in the back just to hear what I had to say. I met with the campus gay group, who organized it, before talking, and they were all just so excited, Josh. It was kind of like seeing myself at that age, when I was still out and proud and loud." 

"You still are," he laughed, running a hand through my hair as he waited in his boxer briefs for me to finish getting undressed. I was wearing a few more layers than he was, as the guys tended to change into grubby casuals after the shows, knowing that they were just going to come home to peel them off for a shower. 

"Who would have thought I'd turn back into an activist," I sighed, shaking my head. Some days it seemed like my life had come so far back around full circle that it scared me. Last time I had been this happy, and active, and had someone who loved me, I'd ended up taking a long fall, one that ended with me being the quiet person Josh fell in love with, who had lived alone and liked it. Was I obsessing so much about Chad because I was expecting all of this to come crashing down around me? "I'm sorry I missed the show last night." 

"Don't worry about it," Josh said, shrugging. I know it wasn't supposed to be sexual, but I was hard just watching the play of his muscles under his skin. "I know you're at every one you can, and you made it to more of the rehearsals than some of the crew did." 

"Yeah, I guess I did," I said, chuckling. The mood between the two of us was very quiet, and it should have been comfortable, but I was just antsy, waiting for that other shoe to drop. As Josh began walking toward the bathroom, I decided I couldn't wait any longer. "Josh, say something, please. I can't take this, this talking around it." 

Josh's shoulders slumped when I said this, and he stopped, looking back over his shoulder. 

"What do you want me to say, Jack?" he asked quietly. He didn't sound angry, just tired. "I mean, honestly. Do you want me to yell at you, tell you I can't believe you did it again? Would it make any difference?" 

"Josh, I really am sorry," I said, wringing my hands helplessly. "I mean, I was pissed, but I didn't mean to make him cry." 

"I'm sure you didn't," Josh said, turning around and crossing his arms over his bare chest. "But I bet you talked to Chad while you were pissed off, and I bet you were rude as hell to him, and nasty. I've heard you when you get upset, Jack, and your tongue is a little sharper than you think it is." 

I wanted to snap at him, to say something really nasty, but could you do that when he was right? 

"Josh, he screwed up my flight again," I began, trotting right into the same argument we'd had the last time this happened. 

"Yeah, and if you want to follow up with him on that, there's an appropriate time and place, Jack," Josh said, sighing. 

"Andrew mentioned something like that," I said, frowning. 

"I'm sure he did," Josh said, smiling a little. "That's why I wanted to keep him as your traveling guard. At least I know Andrew will give it to you straight when I'm not there." 

"Josh, it still doesn't change the fact that Chad is incompetent," I said, crossing my arms now, too. "I mean, I'll apologize to him for the way I handled it, but that's a symptom. His behavior is the cause." 

"So is yours," Josh said, a little hint of irritation finally creeping into his voice. "I know you don't like him, and maybe I should have listened harder when you said you didn't want to hire him, but you don't have to ride him so hard all the time. He's doing the best he can, and instead of working with him, you're happy just to butt heads." 

"Josh, why is this so important to you?" I asked, walking across the room to him. I wasn't angry. I just really wanted to know. 

"I wanted to give him a chance, Jack," Josh said finally. "I mean, you talk about the kids you see, and how much they remind you of yourself. Well, Chad reminds me of myself. He's kind of geeky, and a little shy, and I remember when I was like that, too. I'm not saying we should let him take it easy because I like him. I expect him to work hard. He just needs a chance to shine, and I thought we could help him with that, but instead you just growl at him all the time." 

"I wouldn't growl so much if he would stop sniffing around my tree," I said, frowning again. "I mean, sure, you like him, but I get the feeling that he likes you a little too much, you know?" 

"And you don't trust me?" Josh asked, reaching out to touch my necklace, as if to remind me of what it stood for. The two of them were as much a symbol of our love as our wedding bands, and really, they meant more. My wedding band had never saved my life. 

"You know that's a stupid question," I said, running my hand up his arm, brushing over his warm skin. "I trust you plenty. I just don't trust him. Every time he screws up, I end up missing you, or not getting to spend as much time with you, and I don't like it, Josh." 

"Jack, are you listening to yourself?" he asked, staring into my eyes. I saw my face, and my dark green eyes, reflected in his blue ones, and realized what was wrong with him. He didn't look sad or mad. He looked drained. "You think Chad's plotting to keep us apart? Do you realize how paranoid that sounds?" 

I had to smile with him. When he said it out loud like that, it did sound kind of stupid. 

"I'm sorry, baby," I said. "I guess I'm just jumping at shadows all the time." 

"It's ok," he said, hugging me. I was aware of his bare chest pressed against mine, and realized as he squeezed me tightly that his heart was beating in time with my own. "Do you think you could try to be a little nicer to him? For me?" 

"Josh," I began, not sure of what else I was going to say. He let go of me, stepping back. 

"Fine, Jack, if you have to win every argument, we can just fire him and be done with it," Josh said, his voice flat. He shook his head, turning toward the bathroom. 

"Josh, wait," I said, taking his arm. "Please, Josh, I love you. Just tell me what's wrong." 

"I'm just tired, Jack," he answered. "Really tired. Being on tour is hard. Why do you think we're all sleepy all the time? I'm exhausted, and with you out doing your thing, and me doing mine, I barely get to see you as it is. I don't want to spend the time I do have with you arguing about Chad, ok? If you don't want him around, we can just let him go, and give him a really nice severance package, before he ends up suing us for the hostile work environment you're busy creating. I don't really care either way. I just, I don't have the energy to deal with this, ok? Not with the tour, and Justin, and Lance, and everything else. It's just too much on top of everything, and if this is the point I have to give on, then fine, ok, I give." 

I swallowed, looking away. I hadn't realized how much this was bothering Josh, because I'd been too selfish and immature. I knew that Josh wouldn't ever do anything with Chad, and that he would be more than capable of rebuffing any advances that came his way, but I still just couldn't let this alone, because I was thinking of myself. I saw it from Josh's point of view suddenly, thinking about how hard he was working, and how he couldn't even fully enjoy his downtime because of the way I was acting. I hugged him again, squeezing tightly, and felt him hugging me back. 

"I'm sorry, Josh," I said, my mouth muffled against his shoulder. "I'll try to get along with him, ok? I'll give him another chance." 

"Jack, I'm not trying to guilt you into this," he sighed, but I shook my head. 

"You're not, not any more than I just guilted you into saying we could fire him," I said. "OK?" 

"OK," Josh answered, still holding me. Everything would have been a lot easier later if I'd just fired Chad then, when we had the chance. I held my hand in the middle of Josh's back, and began to guide him toward the bathroom. 

"Come on," I said, stepping out of my boxers. I slid my hand down his back and under the waistband of his boxer briefs, resting it on his firm, tight ass. "Let's get you into the shower, and then into bed."


LANCE'S POV:

"Do you think he has to go out again?" Justin asked, staring down at Junior. Junior sat on the floor in front of him, staring back up at Justin with equal solemnity. 

"You put down a pad in the bathroom, right?" Lance asked, yawning. Junior was housebroken, but since he spent so much time in hotels, Jack had also taught him to go to the bathroom on puppy training pads if he needed to. 

"Yeah," Justin answered, standing. He began to walk toward the bedroom, and turned back at the door to pat his leg. "Come on." 

It took Lance a second to realize Justin was talking to the dog. Twenty pounds of terrier mutt dutifully trotted into the bedroom, and Lance followed. Justin had stripped down to a t-shirt and pair of shorts, his usual bedtime attire, but as he turned down the sheets on his bed he gave Lance no indication of which bed he wanted him in. 

"Justin, I'm going to bed, too," Lance prompted, waiting. He pulled off his shirt, stripping down to the boxers he slept in, but Justin still hadn't said anything, so Lance figured he was probably supposed to sleep in his own bed tonight. He checked to make sure the nightlight was plugged in near the door, since Justin couldn't sleep in a fully dark room, where he couldn't see who might be near him, and flicked off the lamp between the beds. "Good night, Justin." 

"Lance?" Justin asked, staring at his own bed uncertainly. "Can I sleep in your bed?" 

"Of course you can," Lance answered, sliding over. Justin climbed carefully into bed, spooning himself against Lance's front, and after he pulled the sheet back up he patted the blanket, to let Junior know it was ok to get up on the bed. As the dog turned around and around in a little circle, Lance wondered if Justin needed to talk. He wasn't shaking, and his breathing was even as his dense back pressed against Lance's bare chest. Justin wasn't a particularly brawny guy, not like a body builder or something, but his body always seemed kind of solid. "Are you still upset about, you know, earlier?" 

"No, not really," Justin answered, relaxing a little as he felt Lance's hand settle onto his shoulder. He wiggled back a little, so that he was against Lance, and pulled Lance's arm down across his chest. "I just, I don't want to sleep in my bed." 

"Is something wrong with it?" Lance asked. Justin's tone was hard to place. He and Lance had an agreement that if Justin wanted to be held, or just didn't want to sleep alone, he would ask Lance without making up an excuse. "We could have a different one brought in." 

"No, it's just, I don't know, " Justin sputtered. He sounded confused, and even a little afraid. "I had a, a bad dream, last night. I don't want to sleep in that bed." 

"I'm sorry, Justin," Lance said. He couldn't believe that Justin had a nightmare, and he'd slept through it. That had never happened before. "Why didn't you wake me? Was it, are you ok?" 

"I don't want to talk about it!" Justin said sharply, his voice cracking. Lance and Junior both jumped a little, and Justin grabbed Lance's arm before he could pull it out from around him. "I'm sorry, Lance, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you." 

"Justin, it's ok," Lance said. He'd been there for all of Justin's bad dreams, and everything else, and he figured Justin was well entitled to an occasional outburst. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Just don't think about it, and go to sleep, ok?" 

"OK," Justin agreed, squeezing his eyes closed. "Thank you, Lance." 

"You're welcome," Lance said absently, squeezing him. "Good night." 

"Night," Justin whispered, already drifting toward sleep. He was exhausted from the show, his adrenaline high finally fading. 

Justin fell asleep with Junior nestled against him on one side and Lance holding him tightly on the other, a cocoon of warmth and safety. He felt himself falling down into unconsciousness, and offered a last prayer, as he did every night, for a blank, dreamless sleep. Lance, holding him, was awake a little longer, listening to Justin's even breathing and Junior's light snoring, wondering if Justin was ok. He'd told Lance every other dream he had, every bad thing that woke him, and Lance did the same when he had one of his own less frequent nightmares, although he censored out any parts that he thought would upset Justin. What could have been so bad about the dream last night that Justin wouldn't tell him about it? And why was Justin so scared of it? 


JACK'S POV: 

I didn't really need a shower, but Josh did, so I made sure this one was all about him. As we stepped into the bathroom I looked around, to memorize where everything was, and then flicked off the lights. 

"Jack?" he asked. 

"Shhh," I said, taking his hand pulling him toward the stall. I stopped when we hit the bathmat, and knelt to peel his boxer briefs down, hooking my fingers beneath the waistband and tugging them gently down to his feet. 

"You know if you have the lights off, I'm probably just going to fall asleep," he said softly, and I could hear the smile. I stood, still holding his hand, and kissed him on the cheek. 

"I'll just have to find some way to keep you awake," I said, pulling the doors open. The suite also had a sunken tub, but we could save that for tomorrow night, when we were both more awake. 

Josh sighed as the spray hit him, and I felt around for the loofa and gel, getting it really sudsy before I began to gently scrub his chest with it. Both of us liked really hot showers, so the air was filled with steam, and I was as much washing him as I was caressing him. Josh, sighing loudly and contentedly, stood in the stream, moving wherever I put him, and I could tell as I kissed him over and over in the darkness that his eyes were closed. He was nice and relaxed, and really that was my main goal. We could fool around a little, but we'd fallen into a pattern of saving that for the morning. As I finished his chest I took one of his arms, pulling it away from his body a little, and carefully washed it, going by feel. 

"You're losing weight," I said, switching to the other one. 

"It always happens on tour," he said. His voice was almost purring as I continued to wash him, dropping down to my knees to get his legs. I knew his cock was right there somewhere, but wasn't ready for it just yet. "We get so busy, and we're working so hard, I don't always remember to eat, and we just burn everything off, anyway." 

"We're going to have to fatten you up some, then," I said from the floor of the shower, my hand so very close to his inner thigh. I finished his other leg and felt around for the washcloth, wanting something I could get more of a grip with. 

"I'll be ok," he sighed as I stood. "Jack, this feels so nice." 

"You know what's going to feel even better?" I asked, lathering up the washcloth. 

"What?" he answered, his hands resting on my shoulders. My mouth was right next to his ear, and I could feel his eyelashes brushing my cheek. 

"Washing the rest of you," I whispered, reaching out to carefully fold his balls into the washcloth. He gasped, his hips lurching toward me as his head tilted back, and I guided him to the back wall of the shower as I gently massaged his large, full sack. I felt his cock throbbing against my wrist, and his hands dropped from my shoulders as he sighed and whimpered. 

I slid the soapy, slick washcloth up his cock, holding it tightly, but not squeezing, and heard him suck in his breath again. I slid it carefully up and down the shaft, under the pretense of washing, and carefully ran my other hand over his head, not wanting to get any soap in his hole. His hips were rolling slowly toward me, almost mimicking some of the choreography they used to have, and he let out a half groan, half whimper each time they moved. I was quiet, so his breathing and the sound of the shower were the only noises in the pitch dark bathroom, other than us kissing. When I leaned in to kiss him on the lips, still working his cock with both hands, his hands slid up my chest to grab my face, holding it while he pushed his tongue inside, rolling it through every crevice of my mouth. I broke our kiss and leaned down to fasten my mouth over his adam's apple, burying my head beneath his chin, and felt it vibrate as he continued to moan. I let go of his cock, sliding my hands back up his arms, and gently pulled his hands away from my face. 

"I'd say that part's clean enough for now," I whispered, and took his shoulders, turning him toward the spray. "Duck your head under." 

Josh did as I told him, pliant beneath my gently caressing hands, and let the shower beat down on his head as I reached for the shampoo. The other nozzle was spraying me right in the middle of the back, but I ignored it as I brought my hands up to Josh's hair. I loved to wash it, and found it endlessly fascinating to run my fingers through, wet or dry. With the lights off it was a little more difficult to make sure I wasn't getting any shampoo in his eyes, but I tried not to use a lot, and to be really careful. I had to be careful with Josh's hair anyway, since it was long enough to tangle, unlike my shorter hair, which you could just kind of smash shampoo onto and scrub away at. As I worked my fingers carefully over his head, massaging his scalp, he continued to sigh with contentment, and I got to soak up the feeling of just being close to him and giving him pleasure. 

"Rinse," I said, and he ducked under again. Back when we were in the apartment complex in LA Chris had always said we had too much sex in the shower, since he could hear the water pipes in his apartment below us, but we both enjoyed it too much to quit. We'd gotten a lot better about not ripping down the curtains, though. I repeated the head wash with his conditioner, wanting his hair to be soft and smooth. I'd had my hair longer after my kidnapping, but got tired of having to put so much crap in it to keep it under control, and had cut it all off again. Josh, on the other hand, was in love with hair products, which meant washing it was a several step process, involving at least two of everything. After I finished the second wash and conditioning, with different ones, I turned him back toward the wall, placing his hands against it so he would understand he needed to lean. 

"Now your back," I said, reaching into the bottom of the tub for the washcloth again. 

I washed across his soft, rounded shoulders, and down the V shape of his back. The darkness was kind of sensual, but I really also kind of wanted to see him. Then again, I'd looked at Josh so many times that I knew every curve, every freckle, and could play it all behind my eyes any time I wanted to. We both had a rule that we wouldn't masturbate while we were separated, so that it would be good when we were together, but some nights, thinking about his lithe, tanned body, all those muscles and that skin, it was really hard not to. I did his legs as well, the backs of them now, and did his feet as best I could. Standing, I heard him sigh again as I slid the washcloth into his crack, scrubbing gently even though I was sure he was spotlessly clean. I pressed forward, massaging his perineum, and heard his breath catch sharply before I pulled my hand back. 

"Like that?" I asked, running the washcloth up and down his crack again. 

"Yeah," he sighed. 

I grinned in the darkness, soaping up my finger. Before he could say anything else, I pushed it inside of him, curling it to hit his prostate. He yelped, bucking against the wall, and I reached around with my other hand, holding the soapy washcloth, and wrapped it around his cock again. Moving both hands in unison, I massaged his prostate as I continued jerking him off, and he shuddered against the wall, his hips jerking back and forth between my hands. He fought to catch his breath, managing to squeak out my name before he broke into a series of yelps, and I felt his ass squeezing my fingers as he shot all over the wall of the shower. He lolled helplessly against me as I turned him toward the shower spray, hosing him off, and when I decided we were both rinsed enough I reached out and shut the water off. 

We stepped out of the shower, and I handed him a towel by feel. As I was reaching out for the light switch I felt his hand on my arm. 

"No, no light," he whispered, pulling me against him. Our bodies, both wet, slid against each other as he ran the huge towel up and down us both, and he tilted my head up, jamming his tongue into my mouth. "That was amazing, Jack." 

"I just want to make sure you get a good night's sleep," I whispered, feeling his lips on my cheek. He ran his tongue up the curve of my ear as he wrapped a hand around my cock, which was throbbing and hard between us, my head leaking everywhere. 

"What about you?" Josh asked, running his fingers lightly up and down my shaft. I felt his hard nipples brushing my chest, and his mouth slid from my ear down to my neck, to kiss and nibble at it as I rolled my head to the side. "It feels like you need taking care of." 

"I can wait 'til morning," I sighed. "We'll enjoy it more when we're both awake." 

"OK," he sighed, letting go of me. 

He took my hand, and I pulled open the bathroom door, both of us squinting in the light from the bedroom lamps. His face was flushed, his wet hair pushed back casually, and everything else was just as I saw it in my mind, or with my hands. A little bit of water still glittered on both of us, but we were dry enough to climb into bed. He flicked off the lamps, and then wrapped himself around me, pulling me back against him, and I settled into the warm cradle of his arms, feeling him sigh against my neck. 

"I missed you," he said again. 

"I'm here now," I answered. 

Our rings clinked against each other as I settled my hands over his. 


CHAPTER 112


LANCE'S POV: 

Lance was only half awake in the dim light when he realized Justin was twisting in the sheets, whimpering to himself. Justin had drifted away from him during the night, sliding across the mattress, and now he lay on his back, sweating and panting. His voice was high and breathy, and his breathing was interspersed with whines. 

"No, please, no, not there, no," Justin whimpered as Lance blinked himself awake. He sounded afraid, but there was also another tone mixed in with the groans and whimpers, a kind of urgent tension. Before Lance could rouse himself completely, trying to shake off the rest of his sleep, he felt the bed twitch as Justin jerked violently, his whole body locking up, and then Justin rolled onto his side, his back to Lance. Lance thought he might be awake, as he was moving around a little. 

"Justin?" Lance asked sleepily. "You ok?" 

Justin kept moving around, and Lance wondered if he might still be asleep, but then he froze, and finally spoke. 

"No!" Justin whispered, his voice high and cracking. "No no no no!" 

"Justin!" Lance said sharply, starting to sit up. Justin didn't seem to hear him as he threw himself out of bed, running into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him before Lance could even finish sitting up. Junior turned in a nervous circle in front of the bathroom door, whimpering, and Lance bolted out of bed, his heart pounding, when he heard the click of the bathroom door locking. Lance knocked hard on the door. "Justin? Justin?" 

Inside he heard the shower switch on, and he could hear Justin mumbling to himself over and over, just repeating the word "No." What was wrong with him? And what was he doing in there? Lance remembered what he used to do, the way he used to sit in the shower and scrub and scrub, or turn the water up until he was scalding himself, and began to pound on the door. What if Justin was doing that, or something worse? They had razors in there, and scissors, and any number of other things he could hurt himself with. 

"Justin! Justin, please open the door!" Lance yelled, practically screaming. "Justin, it's Lance! Please open the door!" 

There was still no answer from inside the bathroom, and Junior whimpered again, looking urgently at Lance and scratching at the door with his paw. 

"Justin, please!" Lance said, pounding on the door again. "Justin, you're scaring me, and you're scaring Junior. If you don't open the door, I'm going to break it down, Justin." 

Lance stood with his forehead against the door, waiting, and just as he was getting ready to kick it open he heard a click as the lock released. 

"Don't, don't open it, please, ok?" Justin begged him, his voice shaking. He sounded like he was dying, and Lance had to fight every instinct in his body, which told him to open the door right now. He could tell that Justin was right on the other side of it. 

"Justin, I'm not just leaving you in there," Lance said. "If you want to be alone, I'll leave you in the bathroom after I talk to you, but I have to make sure you're ok. You're scaring me, Justin." 

"I'm sorry," Justin whimpered, farther away now. "I'm sorry." 

"Justin, I'm going to open the door now, ok?" Lance said, his hand on the knob. Justin didn't answer him, and Lance started to turn the knob. He was so afraid now that he felt dizzy, terrified that he would open the bathroom and see something horrible. "I'm coming into the bathroom, Justin, but I swear, I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I promise, Justin. I just want to make sure you're ok." 

Lance eased slowly into the bathroom, looking around, and Junior wiggled through his legs, trotting over to the shower door. The glass was frosted, but Lance could see the shadowed, indistinct form of Justin, curled into a tiny ball in the bottom of the shower, leaning against the wall as the water streamed over him. Lance could hear him sobbing over the sound of the shower, but he wanted to take in the whole scene before he ran over there, to make sure he didn't miss anything. Stopping himself to do that was one of the hardest things he had ever done, but he was so scared for Justin that he didn't want to become irrational and overlook something. The bathroom counter appeared undisturbed, no razors or bottles of pills in sight. There was a slick trail of water across the bathroom floor, where Justin had apparently left the shower to unlock the door, and Justin's clothes were strewn across the bathroom. Lance walked past them, and sat down on the floor in front of the shower door. 

"Justin, I'm right here, if you need me," Lance said quietly, making sure Justin could hear him over the water, but not wanting to yell, and make him feel threatened. "Are you all right?" 

"Go away," Justin whimpered, and Lance could see him folding in on himself in the shower. Junior whined again, apparently as sensitive to Justin's moods as Lance was. Junior didn't seem to be interested in leaving the bathroom, so Lance wasn't, either. "Please, Lance, please don't look at me." 

"Justin, I can't really see you through the door," Lance said. "Look, you'll see. I can't see you, and I'm not going to open the door without your permission. I just want to make sure you're ok." 

Justin didn't say anything, but Lance saw him shift a little, and could tell that he was looking, checking on what Lance had said. Lance didn't lie to Justin, ever, and he knew Justin would think of that. 

"Justin?" Lance asked again. "Justin, please?" 

"I, I didn't, didn't mean," Justin began, sobbing. "I didn't mean to." 

"Mean to what?" Lance asked, looking around. Rather than answer, Justin just began crying harder in the shower stall, his shoulders shaking. It was high, fragile crying, as if he were afraid someone might hear. 

Lance looked around the bathroom, hoping to spot a clue, trying to figure out what could be wrong, when his eyes slid over Justin's discarded clothes again. Lance sniffed, catching a little hint of something, and leaned over to check the pile. Sure enough, the front pouch of Justin's briefs was wet and looked sticky, and the unmistakable smell of cum drifted over toward Lance's nose. Lance sighed, realizing what was wrong, but having no idea what to tell him. 

"Justin?" Lance said, finally. "Justin, it's not a bad thing. It's not something you did on purpose." 

"I didn't want to do it," Justin said, still crying. Lance could hear the pain in his voice. "I didn't mean to, I didn't want to, but I, I couldn't help it." 

"Justin, it's natural," Lance sighed. He wanted to reach into the shower to comfort him, but this was such a touchy situation that he was afraid to do anything, to push Justin's threshold in any way. "It happens to all guys, Justin, and not on purpose. It's not something you did wrong." 

"But I was dreaming about it, Lance," Justin whined. His tears seemed to be leveling off, and Lance figured that it was probably because, deep down, he knew Lance was right. "I was, I had a dream last night that I was, I was naked, and I was doing, I was doing a bad thing, and it happened again tonight, and I, you know." 

"Justin, you can't help your dreams," Lance said soothingly. "You know that, Justin. If you could, you and I would both be ok. Now, what happened tonight, it wasn't something you wanted, and even if it was, that would be ok, too." 

"No, not it wouldn't," Justin said miserably. "It's not ok, not for me. It's not, Lance." 

Lance sighed, petting Junior, who continued to paw at the shower door with his foot. His nails clicked over the glass, and Lance knew that Justin must be able to hear it inside. He had to get him out of there, and talk him down. 

"Justin, please, shut off the water," Lance said quietly. "I'm sure you're all washed off by now, and I want to talk to you, ok?" 

"Are you mad at me?" Justin asked quietly, reaching up to shut the water off. "I'm sorry I woke you." 

"No, I'm not mad," Lance said, standing. 

He figured Justin would want him to leave the bathroom, but the shower door cracked open, and Justin's hand snaked out, grabbing a towel. Lance looked away as Justin dried himself, even though he couldn't really see him through the glass anyway, wanting to give him some privacy. Finally Justin wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out, his torso still a little wet, but all Lance was looking at were his eyes, which were wide and glassy, red rimmed. 

"I didn't mean to," Justin said softly, avoiding looking at his clothes. 

"Justin, I told you, it's ok, " Lance repeated calmly. "Come on. Let's get you dressed, ok?" 

"OK," Justin said, nodding. He followed Lance out of the bathroom, Junior dancing around his feet wagging his tail, and walked over to the dresser, pulling out a fresh pair of briefs. "Could you?" 

"Yeah, no problem," Lance said, turning around. He heard the towel thump onto the floor, and waited. 

"OK," Justin said, and Lance turned around to see him, in his briefs, pulling on a new shirt, and a pair of long pajama pants. "What did you want to talk to about?" 

"Justin, come sit down," Lance said, patting the bed. Justin walked over carefully, and Lance reached for the box of tissues, just in case they needed it. "Justin, I know you're upset about what happened tonight, but it's a normal thing. It's something that your body did, and it doesn't have anything to do with what you want, or didn't want." 

"I didn't want anything," Justin insisted, shaking his head. He held one of Lance's hands, petting Junior with the other. "I didn't, Lance, I don't want that ever again." 

"I know, Justin, and that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Lance said, squeezing his hand. "Justin, what happened to you was a terrible thing, it was, and in your head, I know that's all you can think of every time you think about sex." 

Justin's lip trembled, and Lance wrapped his other hand around the one he was holding, cradling it. 

"Justin, I know how you feel about sex right now," Lance said softly. The room seemed almost unnaturally quiet around them. "You don't have to say anything. I know how hard it is for you, and how much it hurts, because I've been through it. But Justin, what happened to you wasn't your fault, and it didn't have anything to do with sex, not really." 

"But Lance," Justin began, shaking his head in confusion. 

"No, Justin, just listen to me for a minute," Lance said, squeezing Justin's hands again. "When you love someone, and you trust them, and you care about them, sex is a beautiful thing. It's soft, and loving, and it will never, ever hurt you. Never, Justin. If you love each other, it will always be nice, and good, and it will always make you feel closer." 

Justin was listening quietly now, but Lance couldn't tell if he really believed him or not. He didn't expect this little talk to straighten Justin out, to solve all of his problems, but it would give him something to think about, and maybe it would make him feel better about what had happened to him this morning. 

"It's ok to want that, Justin," Lance said. "It's ok to want to be that close to someone, and to want to make them feel good, and to let them make you feel good, too. It's not wrong, it's not bad, and it's not something you should be ashamed of. What happened to you tonight, this morning, whatever time it is right now, that was your body, and some part of you, telling you it still wants to think about that, and that someday it wants to feel that way about someone. You've felt that way before, Justin, and that was your body and part of your mind telling you that it wants to feel that way someday again." 

"But I can't," Justin said miserably, shaking his head. His eyes stung again, and he stopped petting Junior to swipe at them with the back of his hand. Lance wrapped an arm around his shoulders and held him tightly. "I can't think about it, about that. When I do, when I start to, I think about, about him, and what he did, and that's all I can see. I feel it, Lance, I still feel it inside. I can't do that, can't think about that, while I feel like that. I just can't." 

"You don't have to, Justin," Lance said, squeezing Justin against him. "I said someday, but that doesn't have to be now. I know it's different for you from the way it is for me, and that, you know, you like boys and girls both, but someday you're going to like one of them enough that they'll make you feel safe, and you won't be afraid, because you'll trust them, and you'll love them, and you'll know that they love you. The way you feel about them will cover up all the rest, Justin, and all you'll be able to think about is how much you love them. Nothing else, and none of the rest of this. None of it will matter." 

Justin sighed, but didn't say anything. His eyes were dry again, but he wanted to believe Lance. After all, Lance had been through it before. 

"You ready to go back to bed?" Lance asked, and Justin nodded, laying back down as Lance went for the lamps. Lance lay on his back, waiting to see if Justin wanted to touch him or not, and Justin slid over, laying his head on Lance's bare chest. Lance smoothed Justin's short, curly hair, and waited for Junior to stop walking around and get comfortable. "Justin? I know it's a lot to think about. Just promise me that if something upsets you again, you won't hold it inside, ok?" 

"OK," Justin said, swallowing. Lance's bare chest felt warm and smooth beneath his cheek, safe and comforting. "Lance? I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I made you feel this way." 

"Justin, we've already had this talk," Lance said. "I don't want you to dwell on it anymore, ok? I know you're sorry, and that you didn't mean to. Neither one of us was thinking clearly about what we were doing then. And, you know, in a weird way, if it hadn't happened, I wouldn't be able to help you." 

"That doesn't make it ok," Justin said quietly. He knew that Lance was just trying to make him feel better, but what he'd done couldn't just be brushed aside like that. It had hurt Lance too much for them to just sweep it under the rug. Lance brushed his hand through Justin's hair again. 

"No, it doesn't," Lance agreed. "But it doesn't matter, Justin. I want to move on, not look back, and that's what we should think about now. Getting past what happened to us. Just because it happened once doesn't mean it has to keep happening again, and that's what'll keep happening if you let it. Every time you think about it, and let it consume you, it happens again. Someday it'll stop, Justin, but part of that will come from you. Let's go to sleep now, ok?" 

Justin didn't answer, but as he lay awake, listening to Lance's breathing change as he fell back to sleep, he realized again that he had a lot to think about. 


JACK'S POV: 

"I love you," Josh breathed, licking the back of my neck as he pushed inside of me. 

"I love you, too," I panted, feeling his chest slide across my back as his cock stretched into me. I was impaled beneath him on the mattress, crushed into it, but I liked it. Burning warmth rolled pleasurably through me, and I could barely catch my breath as his hands slid under my chest to grab my shoulders, using them to pull himself forward. 

I'd woken up slowly, feeling feather light caresses as his fingers played over my body. He wasn't poking or prodding, just touching, brushing his hands over me. Sometimes Josh just liked to touch me, as if to prove to himself that I was real. Regardless of his reasons, I sighed as I felt a fingertip lightly drawing circles around my nipple as he laid the other hand flat on my chest, my heart beating beneath his palm. His hands were soft, deftly nimble as they danced across my body, and when I felt the tip of his index finger slide over the top of my stiffening nipple, I lazily opened my eyes to see him smiling at me. In the full light of morning I could see that I was right, and he was losing a little weight, but he was still gorgeous. The sheet had fallen down to our waists, and my eyes jumped back and forth over his chest, up the lines of his neck, down the ripples of his abs, before settling on his bright blue eyes, sparkling beneath the wavy tangle of his brown and bronze streaked hair. 

"Good morning," he said, smiling. His face lit up, those cheekbones glowing, lips stretching wide. 

"Morning," I said, lunging for him. 

Josh laughed as I rolled over him in the bed, wrapping his arms around me as I scrabbled mine down his sides, tickling him. He shook beneath me, trying to squirm away, as my fingertips ran up his sides, dancing over his ribs and the spot just below his armpit, where everyone is ticklish. He was laughing, shaking his head back and forth as he tried to escape, his feet jerking blindly beneath the sheet, strong legs brushing against mine. He begged me to stop, and when I refused he reached up to grab my face with both hands, biceps flexing as he held me in place, and then he brought his soft lips to mine, his pink tongue darting into my mouth. I sighed against him, feeling our stubbly chins brush against each other, and stopped tickling as I lay on top of him, eyes closed, mouths still joined. 

"That's cheating," I whispered finally, when we broke. He flicked his tongue out over my bottom lip. 

"What ever it takes," he answered, smiling. 

Josh pulled my head back down, his hands still on the sides of my face, and brought his mouth to mine again. His lips were a little firmer now, more insistent, and I realized that my hard cock was laying against his, trapped between our bodies. I arched my back a little, flexing, and felt my shaft slide against his. We both moaned into each other's mouths, and as I did it again his hands moved, one sliding around the back of my head to grip my neck while the other danced down my back, grabbing one of my cheeks and using it to pull me against him. Josh and I continued kissing, mouths fighting each other now, tongues pressing against each other like snakes as I thrust against him, and he moved beneath me, thrusting as well. Our hard cocks ground against each other, caressing each other, both of us starting to leak a little against our abs, our heads smearing wetly against each other as Josh's strong hands, gripping and pulling, urged me against him. One of my hands was on Josh's hip, my fingers pressing against the velvet muscle, and the other snaked between us to his chest, grabbing one of his hard brown nipples in a quick twist that had him grunting into my mouth. 

Josh flexed beneath me, still holding me, our mouths stuck together as if glued, and rolled, so that I was now below him. The sheet twisted around us, and he kicked at it, shoving it down as we continued to thrust our cocks against each other, moaning and grunting. He broke our kiss, his hands sliding off of me as he lifted himself up on them, and stared down at me. His eyes were half closed, his mouth wet with both our spit, and his face was clouded with lust and passion. I stared up at him, my hips moving almost involuntarily now, and felt his hot breath panting across my face. Without saying a word he slid down my body, bypassing my chest entirely as he brought his mouth down to the head of my cock, sliding his lips over it. 

I sighed his name loudly, my hands sliding around to tangle in his hair as I pressed my head back into the pillows, my back arching as my body tried to push into his mouth. Josh head my head inside, sucking lightly, running his tongue over and around it, and dipped the tip through my slit, sucking up my salty precum. As I whimpered beneath him he began to bob his head, taking just the slightest bit more of my shaft into his mouth each time he went down, and I thrust my hips up, fighting his slow pleasure, my arms flexing. His own arms, on my thighs, kept me from pushing in more, but he smiled up at me, clearly enjoying this gradually torturous blowjob. He began to hum around my cock, knowing that I liked that, and I thought I would lose it right then, groaning his name as I begged him to swallow me. 

Josh continued his slow bobbing on me, his tongue still dancing over my cock as it pushed through the tight ring of his lips, and when his face finally buried itself in my pubes, sliding away as he slid almost all the way off, and then dropped down again, his hands slid around my thighs to my balls, and began kneading them, pulling them away from my body. My hands convulsed in his hair, squeezing it tightly, forcing his head down into my crotch as my arms bulged, and as I felt one of his fingers pushing insistently at my ass I groaned and unloaded into his mouth. He swallowed, and kept swallowing, before finally pulling off of me and kissing his way up my body to my mouth. When I saw his face above me, flushed and wet, I grabbed the back of his neck and ground his mouth down against mine, jamming my tongue against his, tasting myself mixed in with the natural taste of him. 

"Josh, please," I panted, feeling one hand slide up and down my body as the other continued to work at my hole. "Make love to me." 

"Tell me how you want it, Jack," he purred, and I knew what he wanted. 

"Fuck me, Josh," I breathed, rotating my hips back onto his probing fingers. "Fuck me, hard. Slam that big cock up inside me." 

"Yeah," he grunted, chewing at my lip, his fingers pushing harder now. Every once in a while Josh wanted me to talk dirty to him, and I was always happy to oblige. It was a lot better than when he tried it. He was so damned polite that his best attempts at it were usually laughable. 

"Fuck my tight ass, Josh," I grunted, wondering if I'd actually stolen that line from a porno or if it just sounded like I did. Josh's free hand had wandered into the nightstand, and I heard the condom rip open. I pulled it out of his hands. "Let me." 

I rolled it down over his throbbing cock, feeling it twitch in my hands, and he pressed the tube of lube into my other hand. I flicked off the cap and squeezed a generous portion between us, onto his working hand, and shuddered as I felt the cold slickness on my ass. Pushing another dollop into my palm, I brought it to his sheathed cock and worked my hand up and down it, making sure I didn't pull the condom off. Josh's hand pulled out of me, and I arched my hips up in anticipation, but then I felt his hands on my shoulders as he pulled at me. 

"Roll over," he breathed against my neck, and I did. 

Before I'd even finished turning I felt Josh against me, throwing himself on top of me, crushing me beneath his body as I felt his cock slide into me in one smooth, brutal stroke. I froze, my head jerking back as I fought to catch my breath, and felt his mouth on my neck as he began to thrust into me. He slammed forward, pulling almost all the way out of me, leaving me feeling empty and hollow, before he surged back again in long, even strokes that jabbed at my prostate and had me groaning his name, straining beneath him. He kissed and sucked at the back of my neck, working my traps over with his lips and teeth as if determined to leave a hickey, and told me he loved me. As he thrust faster and faster, sighing and yelping, he finally froze, his hips jerking once, and I clenched tightly around him. 

"Oh, God," he panted, dropping down onto my sweaty back. 

"Jesus that was good," I sighed, still seeing stars dance across my vision. 

"Let's hit the showers," he said, reaching for the tissues. 

"You might have to carry me, " I said, giggling, as he pulled off the condom and cleaned himself up a little. I still hadn't caught my breath. 

"I'm ok with that," he said, laughing, as he bent and scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me into the bathroom as I laughed and tried not to fall off. His shoulders weren't exactly broad, but it was a cute gesture, and I kissed him as he set me down on the bathroom floor. 

"You didn't have to do that, " I said, reaching in to turn on the water. "You'll throw your back out." 

"I'm tougher than you think, " he said, puffing up his chest. 

"I know," I said, laughing. "I can barely walk." 

"That means I was good," he said, holding the door open for me to step inside. 

"You're always good," I said, grinning, and watching him smile as well. "Now wash my back." 

We stayed in the shower for a while, slow and careful, worshipping each other the way I had last night. Josh scrubbed me good, telling me he loved me and how much he missed me, and I scrubbed him again, seeing all the parts I'd only known by feel the night before. We started kissing again, and ended up against the back wall, with him leaning into me, kissing me over and over, as our hands played over each other. I ran mine up and down his back, feeling him jump and shift, and he had his on the sides of my jaw, using them to turn my face side to side so that he could kiss my mouth, or my neck. 

"So, what are we doing today?" I asked. "Once we get out of the shower, I mean." 

"First we're going to dry off, and then we'll get dressed," he answered, nuzzling his wet head under my jaw. 

"I was thinking a little beyond that," I said, tracing his spine. I liked to run my fingertips over it, and I could tell he did, too, because he always gave a little shiver. 

"Oh," he said, giggling. The shower was still pouring down on us, but neither of us were actually making any moves toward getting out. It was too nice just to be there with each other, to pretend no one else existed. He flicked my necklace aside with his tongue and licked the hollow of my throat. It was so quick and light that I thought I would pass out, feeling my knees start to give. "Oh, you liked that." 

"I like everything you do to me," I answered, leaning a little to catch his earlobe in my teeth. I knew he liked that just as much, and I heard him groan as I ran my tongue up the curve of his ear. "Now tell me what we're doing today, before I have to find some way of making you talk." 

"Well, after we dry off and get dressed," Josh began, watching me smile at hearing him repeat himself, "I thought I'd take you out to eat, since we're in New York, and I can take you to someplace nice and fancy and spoil you." 

"I like being spoiled," I laughed, gasping as he chewed on my neck and pinched one of my nipples. "Oh, Josh." 

"And then we have that party tonight," he said. 

I had flown back in for the party, which was some sort of MTV shindig. It wasn't an awards show, or a record release, but really I had more or less stopped asking. The guys went to so many things, and I had been mildly surprised when an invitation came separately to me. It was going to be one of the network's cast of thousands type of evenings, the kind of parties that I didn't feel quite at home in yet and wouldn't go to without Josh, who never seemed nervous at these things. At least we could go sort of casual, although it was what I called Pop-Casual, which meant I would pick out three or four outfits that Josh shook his head at before he finally told me what to wear. 

"Are we all going to that?" I asked. "Has anyone checked the guest list?" 

"Nick and Howie aren't supposed to be there," Josh answered. "So Justin and Lance are coming. Before the party, but after lunch, I also promised Chris we would go to the airport to pick up Vlada, because he's out golfing with Justin today." 

"That'll be cool," I said, reaching over to turn the water off. He looked at me, surprised. "Josh, my fingers are all wrinkled. We've been in here forever, and Lance is probably going to bring Junior over soon." 

"Yeah, and you still have to talk to Chad, too," Josh said, raining on my parade as he handed me a towel. 

"Oh yeah," I said, smiling falsely. Josh frowned, but let it go, and I remembered that I was going to try to get along with Chad better so that I could stop stressing Josh out. I would do my best to get along with him, but I didn't have to like him. 


CHAPTER 113


JACK'S POV: 

Josh was flipping through his mail, reading fan letters, and I was leaning back against him on the same couch, doing the same thing. He was sitting up straight, and I was kind of laying down, my feet up on the couch arm and my head in Josh's lap. Every once in a while one of us would read something cute to the other, or his hand would drift into my hair while he was reading, running over the top of my head, idly caressing. I would reach up and grab it, holding it to my chest for a few seconds and squeezing it, just to let him know I was there and that I loved him, and then we'd both drift back into the letters again. 

"This is why I miss you," he sighed, stuffing the letter he was reading back into the envelope and reaching for another one. There were letters just for him, which he read, a much smaller pile that was just for me and which only I read, and a pile for both of us, which we both read. "Just being close to you like this, that's what I miss when you're gone." 

"I thought what we did in bed earlier was why you missed me," I said, smiling up at him. "You know, my hot mouth and my tight ass." 

"Jerkoff," Josh said, grinning down at me. He ruffled my hair again, and I nuzzled my head against his palm. "You're more than just my favorite piece of ass." 

"I know," I said, giggling. I sighed. "This is what I miss, too. Just being close to you." 

We both sighed, staring into each other's eyes. 

"Josh, do you think we're mushy and pathetic?" I asked. One of his eyebrows cocked inquisitively, and I wanted to lean up and kiss it. "I mean, all the time one of us is always telling the other that we love him. Do you think we're turning sappy?" 

"I don't know if it's sappy, or what, but I do love you," he said, still stroking my head. "Sometimes it just feels like I love you so much that it's building up inside me, and I have to tell you, or I might explode. Besides, it just feels natural to me. If you love someone, you make sure they know." 

"I do know, Josh," I said. "Even when you don't say it." 

"I know," he said, smiling at me. Unable to reach his face I turned my head and kissed his hand, my mouth brushing against his soft palm. He ran his fingers over my lips, lightly, and I kissed them, too, before sucking his index finger into my mouth for a second. He grinned, pulling his hand away, and brought it to his own mouth, kissing his fingers. "Mmmmm. Your mouth is fingerlicking good." 

I groaned at the bad joke, smiling, and sat up, remembering that I had a present for him. It wasn't anything big, but I always wanted him to know I was thinking about him. I walked into the bedroom, going back into my suitcase for it, and brought back a small, wrapped package for him. 

"Jack," he began. I kissed him, pressing the box into his hand. 

"Thanks for the flowers, and the candy," I said, grinning. "And for the wedding, and the honeymoon, and that t-shirt you wear during 'Gone', and for coming back to me every single time I run away from you. I love you." 

"I love you, too," he said, hugging me against him. 

As we settled back into the couch, Josh began to carefully undo the tape, and I rolled my eyes. He never just tore the paper off of anything, because it just wasn't his nature. Instead he carefully undid the ribbon, and tape, and whatever else was holding it together, and set the paper aside, neatly folded, as if we might use it again. When he wasn't looking I usually picked up the paper, crumpled it into a little ball, and threw it away. When he got down to the little ring box he opened it, and sucked in an appreciative breath. 

"Jack, this is nice," he said, marveling at the ring I'd bought him. It was a silver sculpted lion's head, mouth open in a roar, tiny chips glittering in the eyes. It was a little over the top, but that meant it was perfect for Josh. 

"I was in this little antique store, and saw it in the case and thought of you," I said. "You know, because of the lion and all. I know it's kind of odd, but I figured if you wanted to go bling-blinging somewhere you could throw it on." 

"Bling-blinging?" Josh asked, eyebrows raised as his lips curled into a grin. "I see you've been talking to Justin again." 

"Mad props and a shout out to my peep, Timberlake," I said, well aware of how absurd it sounded coming from my mouth. Josh leaned over and kissed me. "Try it on. I think it'll fit your middle finger." 

"You know how big my middle finger is?" he asked, taking the ring out of the box and sliding it onto his right hand. Sure enough, it fit. 

"I'm intimately familiar with every inch of your anatomy," I said, grinning, as he leaned over to kiss me again. He pressed me back into the couch with his lips and body, and we began to slide down into the cushions, the box tumbling to the floor. 

"Are you really?" he purred, burying his mouth under my chin. His mouth crawled up and down the side, sucking at the cords. 

"I've had lots of time to get to know it," I said, running my hands down his back. I slid them under his shirt, feeling the warm, silky skin of his back as I relaxed under the firm weight of his body. 

Someone knocked at the door. 

"Let's not answer that," Josh whispered, tugging the neck of my shirt down so that he could worry over my collarbone with his mouth. 

"It's Chad," I sighed. "Or Lance with Junior. Either way, we have to get the door." 

"You're right," he sighed, leaning up above me, holding himself up on his strong arms. His hair was a little tousled, hanging down over his forehead, and his sparkling blue eyes crackled with warmth. His face was a little flushed, and his bottom lip glistened with spit. "I love you." 

"Whichever one of them it is, " I began, grinning beneath him as I rotated my pelvis up toward his, grinding my crotch against him, "let's get rid of them quick." 

"Sounds like a plan," he said, climbing off of the couch. He took my hands, pulling me to my feet, and I kissed him again as we stood face to face, pecking him quickly on the lips. I started to pull away, but he slid his hands around to my back, pressing me against him again, and smashed his mouth down onto mine, attacking me with such passionate fervor that I worried for a second he'd start biting pieces off. It would be a great way to die. There was knocking at the door again, and Josh pulled away, sighing. "Shit." 

"Let's keep this short," I said, sliding out of his arms. As I walked to the door I saw Josh bending over to pick up the ring box, and smiled. As he set it neatly on the coffeetable I pulled the door open, and found Chad, looking a little tentative in his tight jeans and even tighter top, carefully gelled spikes and gold hoops glistening under the lights in the hallway. I smothered my growl, wondering why he always had to look like he was about to go on a photoshoot for Twink magazine, and held the door open for him. "Good morning, Chad." 

"Hi," he said quietly, looking past me. He saw Josh, standing behind the couch, and smiled. "Good morning, JC." 

I wanted to kick him. 

"Good morning," Josh said, putting his hand on my shoulder as I walked past. I kept going, looking for my bag, and he ran his hand down my arm to my hand, squeezing it tightly as my fingers slid out of his. I hoped Chad was watching, even if it was really immature of both of us. 

"I have some stuff here that I wanted you to look up for me," I said, carrying one of my folders over to Chad. "I'm supposed to be in Atlanta next week, and I wanted you to look up current challenges to Georgia's sodomy laws, in case there are any questions on them." 

"OK," Chad said, nodding, apparently glad not to be fired. He held out a bag. "I have fan mail for you guys, too, and there's a magazine that wants to do a profile piece on you, Jack. I wrote it all down and went and grabbed a couple issues, so you could see what kind of stuff they do." 

"Thanks," I said, taking it from him. Behind me, Josh was fiddling with some flowers on a side table, waiting. "Chad, I, um, I'm sorry I snapped at you last night. I shouldn't have talked to you when I was pissed, and I shouldn't have done it in front of Andrew." 

"It's ok," Chad said quickly. "I know you were mad, and I screwed up. It won't happen again." 

"No, I mean it, Chad," I said, wanting to bite my own tongue off and swallow it. Josh came up behind me, resting his hands on my shoulders. "There's a right way to handle that, and a wrong way, and I'm sorry I picked the wrong one and made you feel bad." 

"It's ok, really, but, um, thanks for the apology," Chad said, fidgeting uncomfortably. "I mean, I did screw up your flight stuff, again, but it won't happen anymore, I swear. You won't be sorry you gave me another chance, I promise." 

"Chad, it's ok," Josh said. "It's just, you know, we've talked about how stressful this all is, and when you make a mistake like that, it makes it harder for all of us. That's why Jack got so upset, and really, it upsets me, too. We just want you to be a little more careful, and a little more on top of that stuff, ok?" 

I felt my hackles rising. The two of them had talked about how stressful the tour was? When? What else did they talk about? Josh could talk to me, or Chris, or Joey, or Justin, or Lance, or his mom if he needed someone to talk to. He didn't need to spend any more time taking Chad out to lunch and talking to him. Josh, as if sensing what I was thinking, leaned in and kissed me on the cheek before taking the mailbag from my hands and walking over to the couch. 

"I will, JC," Chad called, not realizing he'd just been dismissed. "I'll stay on top of that, I promise." 

"OK then," I said quickly. "I guess I'll touch base with you tomorrow, then, on that stuff, and I'll let you know about the profile interview thing." 

"Sure," he said, nodding. 

"Bye, Chad," I said, looking from him to the door. I kept my voice pleasant, but wondered again how he could be so dense. Maybe it was because he was staring at my husband, and it fried his brain. 

"Oh, right," he said, blinking, as he smiled. "Bye Jack. Bye JC!" 

"Bye, Chad," Josh said, still flipping through the pile. 

I closed the door behind him and leaned against it, counting to ten. 

"Was that so bad?" Josh asked, smiling at me. 

"No," I lied. I ran a hand lazily up and down my chest. "You know, maybe you should put the mail down, and we could get back to, you know, what we were doing before Chad stopped by." 

"That sounds like a really good idea," Josh said, walking toward me. "What was it we were doing, again?" 

"Here, let me show you," I said, bringing a hand up to his neck. I pulled him close to me, bringing his head down to mine, and pressed my lips to his soft, silky ones. He ran his hands up and down my sides, sighing, as I pressed my tongue into his mouth. There was another knock at the door, and I broke the kiss as Josh laughed against my neck. "Aaaaargh!" 


LANCE'S POV: 

Lance walked around the corner, carrying Junior, nodding at the security guard sitting by the elevators. Keeping a guard on their floor was something new for this tour, but it made Justin feel better, and it kept JC from worrying that Jack was going to get kidnapped again. Lance figured the odds on that were rather slim, but he was willing to go along with it on general purposes. The last thing he wanted was Justin walking around the hall and running into someone who wasn't supposed to be there. Even if it was someone harmless, Justin would still be shaky. Chad was walking out of Jack and JC's suite, carrying a packet of papers. 

"Hey, Lance," Chad said, grinning at him. 

"Hi," Lance said, noticing, not for the first time, that Chad was kind of cute, even if he did always dress like he was about to drop everything and head for a club. "Are they up?" 

"Yeah," Chad answered, reaching out to pet Junior. Junior pulled back in Lance's arms, squirming a little, and curled his lip at Chad, who stepped away. 

"Wow, he never does that," Lance said, surprised. "He must just be moody." 

"He's not the only one," Chad said, shaking his head. He walked away toward the elevators as Lance knocked on the door, stepping back when he heard Jack making some sort of frustrated noise. 

"What?" Jack hissed, jerking the door open. His face changed when he saw it was Lance, but he still looked a little annoyed, and Lance wondered if he was interrupting something. How much welcome back sex could the two of them have? "Oh, Lance, I'm sorry. Josh and I were just, um, in the middle of something." 

As if to underscore this, JC's hands slid up Jack's chest from behind, and his head appeared over Jack's shoulder, smiling at Lance. 

"Baby!" Josh said, stepping around Jack to pull Junior out of Lance's hands. "Oh, thanks, Lance! He wasn't any trouble, was he?" 

"No, of course not," Lance said, smiling. "You know we're always glad to have him over." 

"We're always glad when you have him over," Jack said, smirking, and JC smacked him on the arm. "Seriously, Lance, if there's ever a night when you guys don't want him, you can say so." 

"No, no," Lance said, shaking his head as JC walked away with Junior. "It's good for Justin to have him around." 

"Where is Justin?" Jack asked, looking around. It was odd to see Lance without Justin in tow. 

"Chris took him golfing," Lance answered, shrugging. 

"Oh yeah," Jack said, nodding. "I figured you'd go, too. What are you gonna do all by yourself today?" 

"I don't know," Lance answered, smiling. "But I'm sure I'll think of something. I'm gonna, um, let you two get back to whatever you guys were doing, ok? I'll see you tonight." 

"OK," Jack said, his brow a little furrowed. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but JC interrupted him from the couch. 

"Bye Lance!" JC called. "See you tonight!" 

"Bye JC," Lance said, turning away as Jack shut the door. 

He knew, kind of, what Jack was going to ask. It would have been one of the many variations on "Are you ok?", and, while Lance appreciated the interest, it was also nice once in a while to get through a day without someone asking. He'd gone through the same thing after he'd spent those couple weeks in the hospital, after what Justin had done. When he came back, everyone was always asking if he was ok, or if they could do anything, and he wanted them to know that, honestly, he was more or less fine. There wasn't a way for him to say that, though, without sounding ungrateful, and he didn't want to do that, either. Even though he was ok, though, he found himself wondering what to do with himself. Chris had insisted that he take today for himself, and he knew why and even understood the need for it, but he wasn't quite sure of how to fill the time. 

Even when Justin was out at an appointment, Lance was still thinking about him, wondering if he was ok, and what they were going to do when he came back. He hadn't had time to himself, just for him, in so many weeks that he had kind of forgotten what it was like, and he wondered if Justin was ok with Chris as he rounded the corner and found Chad still standing by the elevators. 

"I thought you were going to work on that," Lance said, looking at the folder in Chad's hands. 

"I can do it later," Chad said, shrugging. "I, um, I wanted to talk to you, for a second. If you're not busy." 

"No, no, what's going on?" Lance asked, wondering if he could help Chad with something. 

"I just wanted to say thank you for last night," Chad said. "You know, for checking on me in the bathroom, even if I did kind of put you off." 

"Don't worry about it," Lance said. "You looked upset, and, you know, I couldn't just leave you alone in the bathroom. Are you ok now?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chad said, shrugging. "Jack was a little upset, but we talked about it, and everything's ok now." 

"Oh, good," Lance said, hitting the elevator button. He waited for a second as Chad stood next to him, both watching the display telling them where the elevator was. "You know, Chad, I was going to go downstairs and get something to eat. Are you hungry?" 

Chad's face lit up. Eating with Lance would be a lot more exciting than eating alone in his room, from the room service menu. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'd like that a lot!" Chad said, beaming. "You really, you want to eat with me?" 

"Why wouldn't I?" Lance asked, confused. They'd all gotten so used to Chad drifting around in the background that they kind of forgot the way he was. When Chad first met them all, he was almost afraid to talk to them, turning into this huge, gushing fan, and Lance had thought he'd gotten over it, but apparently that wasn't quite the case. "Why don't you put those down in your room, and meet me in the restaurant down on the first floor?" 

"Yeah, ok," Chad said, nodding, blinking as if he wanted someone to pinch him. He burst from the elevator when it stopped on his floor. "I'll be right down!" 

Lance smiled and shook his head as the doors closed. Lunch with Chad would be a lot more fun than eating in the restaurant alone. In his room, Chad ran into the bathroom, checking himself in the mirror. His outfit was cute, his hair looked ok, and he didn't have anything stuck in his teeth. He sprayed on a little aftershave, not too much, and glanced in the mirror again. Taking a deep breath, he decided he was ready to go to lunch, and when he took the elevator back to the lobby he saw Lance waiting for him over by the restaurant entrance. 

"Hi!" Chad said, rushing over to him. 

"Slow down," Lance said, smiling. "There's nothing to be so excited about." 

"I'm sorry," Chad said quickly. "I mean, I know I see you all the time, and stuff, and we're just going to lunch, but I'm going to lunch with Lance Bass! My job is so cool sometimes!" 

"Chad, do you think maybe, just for lunch, you could just call me Lance?" Lance asked, smiling. "And leave out the Bass? I mean, you do it all the time anyway." 

"Yeah, ok, Lance," Chad said, nodding. He repeated it softly to himself as Lance asked for a table for two, preferably away from the other diners. "Lance, just Lance, not Lance Bass." 

Lance shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. He could see how Chad's behavior might be a little grating to Jack, especially since Chad didn't treat Jack the same way he treated JC and the others, but Lance found it kind of amusing, and refreshing. It was nice to have someone around who was just genuinely happy to see them without all the baggage attached. Besides, no matter what he said, Jack had a jealous streak a mile wide, and Chad, unfortunately, just kept wandering into it. The hostess showed them to a back booth, even though the restaurant was mostly empty, and Lance slipped her a nice tip as she handed them their menus. 

"So," Chad began after they ordered, "What's it like to be you? Do you like it? Do you meet a lot of people on tour? What are the fans like? I remember that time we talked at JC's house, you said you watched 'Buffy'. Do you still watch it? Because I still do, and I can tell you what's going on if you missed a show." 

"OK, slow it down," Lance said again, holding up his hands. "Do you even breathe? Ever?" 

"Yeah, sorry," Chad said, reaching for his water. He sipped slowly. "Is it too many questions?" 

"No, it's ok," Lance said, shaking his head. "I just kind of wanted, you know, to think about my answers. Let's see. What's it like to be me, and do I like it? Yes, I do." 

For the rest of the meal they talked about how Lance had joined the band, and what it was like in the early days, hustling to learn everything and get themselves off the ground. Lance talked a little bit about the lawsuit, when they got out from under Lou, and what it had been like for them to really blow up like they had. It had been kind of difficult for all of them to deal with, but he swept the bad parts under the rug, more or less, especially the more recent rough spots. Chad had signed a confidentiality agreement, like all the other staff, but that didn't mean he needed to hear everything. He asked a lot of questions, but Lance noticed as they went on that Chad also seemed to know a lot about all of them, and remembered that Chad was a big fan of the group before he started working for them. 

"You haven't talked about yourself much," Lance said finally. "How do you like working with us?" 

"It's good, I guess," Chad said. "I mean, I get to work with all of you, and that's like my dream come true. It's hard sometimes, though, because I've never done anything like this, and Jack is, well. Never mind. He's your friend, and my boss, and I shouldn't talk about him. I'm sorry." 

"Chad, it's ok," Lance said, patting his hand. He thought Chad was going to drop his coffee, staring at his hand like he'd never wash it again now that Lance had touched it. "We all know how Jack is sometimes, especially when he's upset." 

"Is he always so mean?" Chad asked emphatically. 

"No, and he doesn't ever mean it," Lance said. "He just, well, what's between Jack and JC is kind of like a force of nature. I love them both, but what's between them is so powerful, it's best if you stay out of its way, because it'll roll right over you whether you want it to or not." 

Lance remembered the beginning of Jack and JC's relationship, and how he had told them it was wrong, and tried to intervene. He'd ended up getting slugged by Justin, and then worse. Justin, too, had been in the middle of it once, and it had left him wounded and vulnerable, easy prey for someone like Nick. Lance didn't blame Jack and JC for that, and he thought that the love between them was a beautiful, almost awe-inspiring thing, but it was also like a thunderstorm, or a tornado. It was exciting to watch, but you didn't want to get caught in it. Chad seemed like a nice guy, and Lance didn't want him to get ground up, because even when Jack and JC didn't mean to, anything that stood between the two of them was crushed. 

"Lance?" Chad asked, concerned. Lance's face had clouded, and Chad wondered what he was thinking about. 

"Sorry," Lance said, shaking his head. "Just remembering some stuff." 

"You had a fight with Jack and JC?" Chad asked. "I mean, that's so hard to believe. You guys are all so close, I just can't believe you ever fight about anything." 

"It was just, well, it was a bad time for me," Lance said, not sure why he was saying so much. "When JC told us he was with Jack, I thought it was wrong, and I shot my mouth off, and we all had some rough times for a while because of it. We're all ok now, but, like I said, you don't want to come between them, Chad. They're both really passionate people, and when they get together, well, it can be rough for the people around them sometimes." 

"Wait, you weren't ok with it?" Chad asked, confused. "But aren't, well, never mind. It's none of my business." 

"What?" Lance asked, curious. 

"Well, aren't you gay?" Chad asked bluntly. "Aren't you and Justin together?" 

"Me and Justin?" Lance asked, almost choking on his coffee. Chad nodded. "No, no, me and Justin aren't together. We're very close, and we care a lot about each other, but it's not like that." 

"Oh," Chad said, shrugging. "Like I said, it's none of my business. I just, you know, you and Justin are the only two who share a suite, and you're both like joined at the hip. I just thought you two were a couple." 

"No, we're not," Lance said, shaking his head. "I guess I can see why you'd think that, but Justin and I are just really, really good friends. Neither one of us is seeing anyone, but we're definitely not seeing each other." 

"I'm not seeing anybody, either," Chad said casually, but Lance didn't seem to catch it. 

"I'm sure you'll meet someone nice soon," Lance said, going back to his dessert. 

Lance insisted on treating Chad to lunch, as a thank you for the pleasant morning and the conversation, and they both kind of drifted out of the restaurant, unsure of what to do next. It was fun hanging out, and now that Chad had relaxed and started treating Lance like a human being rather than an icon, Lance was a little reluctant to end the experience. Chad was bright, and perky, and Lance felt like he'd barely scratched the surface of who Chad was. He thought about things for a second. 

"Hey Chad?" he asked, wondering if this was a good idea or not. 

"Yeah?" Chad answered. 

"Are you doing anything this afternoon?" Lance asked. 

"I was going to work on that stuff for Jack, but I can do it tonight," Chad answered. "Why?" 

"I have to go find an outfit for tonight," Lance answered, shrugging. "Do you want to go shopping with me?" 

Chad's eyes lit up, and he jumped up and down, clapping his hands. 

"Sure!" he gushed, beaming. "I'd love to!" 

Lance smiled, and they headed upstairs to grab a bodyguard. Maybe Chris had been right, and spending a little time away from Justin had been a good idea after all. 


CHAPTER 114


JACK'S POV: 

"Josh, this is really nice," I said, looking around again. I'd read about this restaurant in magazines, had seen people going into it on Entertainment Tonight, and now I was sitting in it, and people were looking at me. I wouldn't call it a dream come true, since this wasn't ever the kind of life I'd looked for, but it was still a nice place, and anyplace that I shared with Josh was perfect by default. I looked down at my food, unsure of what was garnish and what was food, since everything was the same size. This always happened to me when Josh took me somewhere expensive, and never happened when we hit a Hard Rock or even, God forbid, a McDonalds. 

"It's not too public for you, is it?" he asked, looking around. I shook my head, smiling. I'd gotten a lot better about being out and about at celebrity hangouts with him, and smiled, thinking of how nervous I'd been that night he took me down the red carpet. Granted, I was nervous for a bunch of other reasons, too, but I knew Josh would take care of me. "I just thought with the thing tonight, we'd probably see some other people, and sometimes it's nice to see them outside of stuff like that. Oh, hey, Mary J!" 

Josh waved across the room, and Mary J. Blige waved back, surprising me. Josh knew so many people I didn't know he'd met or worked with, but I realized that they all got to know each other at things like the party tonight. Even if they hadn't worked together, there was still a definite famous people club, and they all seemed on a nodding acquaintance with each other, especially in the recording industry. If it was a club, though, I was starting to squeak inside, even if it only was by association. I was one step above a hanger-on, in most people's eyes, although that was mostly the people who didn't know me and Josh, and couldn't tell that what we had was real. Mary grinned widely, waving at both of us again, even though I wasn't sure how she could see us through her sunglasses, and followed the maitre de to her table. 

"I want to work with her on something," Josh said, smiling at me and at his plate. "Maybe for the next album, or for hers. Have you heard her stuff lately?" 

"No, not really," I said, shrugging. "I don't really listen to that kind of music, although Justin keeps trying to foist it on me, too. Actually, I think the only time I've heard it is when you play it." 

Josh blushed. The last time he had played Mary J. in the house I had ended up riding him on the couch in the living room. 

"I think I'll have someone call her people, and see if we can set something up," Josh said, and I snickered. He looked up, half amused and half curious, and his blue eyes sparkled with good humor. If we were in private, I would have pushed the plates aside a while ago and just jumped on him. "What?" 

"Well, Josh, do you know how you sound?" I asked, shaking my head. I was smiling, too. Sometimes his world was just baffling to me, and so far removed from normal life. "You're sitting in the same room as her, right now, but instead of talking to her, you're going to have your people call her people, and then maybe the two of you will call each other." 

Josh laughed along with me, reaching out to rest his hand over mine. I caught people looking, but didn't care. 

"I love you, Jack," he said, staring into my eyes, his blue ones locked on mine. "There's just a way we do things, kind of a recognized social order. I'm sure you can understand that." 

"Yeah, I get it," I said, thinking of my own background of debutante balls and holiday parties at the club. There might be different rules here, but it was the same idea. I giggled again, and Josh squeezed my hand, asking the question with his face, eyebrows arched gracefully over those cheekbones, lips stretched in a grin, that adorable little line in the center of his forehead that I wanted to kiss. "I was just thinking about, you know, you having your people call Mary's people, and I realized that we have Chad, which means, more or less, that I have 'people', too. My high school reunion is going to be such an adventure, what with you, and Andrew, and maybe Junior, too." 

Josh threw back his head, leaning back in his chair laughing, and I laughed along with him, picturing me sweeping back into the hallowed halls of my private school with a full celebrity entourage in tow, sunglasses on, flashbulbs going off, Josh and I with gelled hair in something flashy and mostly leather. A couple of people looked up at us, maybe wondering what the joke was, but I didn't really care what they thought. Josh and I were comfortable, we were happy, and today, all was right with the world. 

"I talked to my mom yesterday," Josh said over dessert. "Her and Dad want us to come out for a couple weeks after the tour. They're going to do a family vacation thing, rent a cabin and all that, and they want to know if we can make it." 

"Of course we can," I said. "I love your family. You know they both came out to see me when I was in Chicago?" 

I meant it when I said I loved them. Karen and Roy had swept me up and into the family within about five minutes of us meeting each other. I'd been afraid to meet them, and they had been a little awkward meeting me, too, but they'd reached out and embraced me in the kind of way I'd never really know a family to be. Since then, they'd been nothing but supportive of Josh and I, even at times when my own family couldn't be bothered to care. Even now, Josh had still never met my brother, and our parents had never met each other, either. 

"Yeah," Josh said, nodding. "She said you took them both out to dinner, and her and my dad were both really proud of your speech. They said you were witty, intelligent, and really brave, and that I did a damn good job picking them a son in law." 

"Oh," I said, blushing a little. "They told me that, too, actually, but it's always nice to hear it again. Are Heather and Tyler coming, too?" 

"Yeah," Josh answered. "It'll just be the family, for two weeks." 

"Sounds wonderful," I said, grinning. I looked back down at my dessert. Like lunch, I wasn't sure of what to eat and what not to, and figured that they wouldn't put anything poisonous on the plate. Josh had ordered the same thing, and when I glanced up, I saw that he was watching me carefully. "What?" 

"I was waiting to see what you would eat," he answered, giggling again. I snickered, too. "What the hell are we eating, Jack?" 

"I have no idea," I answered. We sat in our chairs, shoulders shaking, and laughed again. 

Later, when lunch was over, we took a car to the airport to pick up Vlada, one of the other generic bodyguards accompanying us and serving as the driver. We liked to give Andrew a day off whenever possible, since he didn't keep hours that were exactly normal traveling with me, and management provided a horde of bodyguards for the guys to lug around. This one, who I thought was named Steve, had waited outside the restaurant in the car while we ate. There was never any mistaking when Vlada got off the plane. She was always in first class, and the other passengers always seemed to give her space to walk in. It might have had something to do with the fact that, no matter where she was, Vlada always walked like she was coming down a runway, and expected, at any moment, cameras to go off and flashbulbs to strobe. 

"Jacque! Jayzee!" she said brightly, leaning in to kiss us both on the cheeks as she hugged us. She was wearing some sort of flowing one shouldered dress that managed to cling to all the right places in spite of the folds, and her dark red hair, as always, looked immaculate, falling down around her shoulders. You'd never guess she'd just flown in from Paris and had been on planes for hours. "Vere is Kreestopher?" 

"Golf," Josh answered, smiling. "Justin." 

"Ahh," Vlada said, nodding. No one stood between Chris and his golf game. I felt very short standing between the two of them, Vlada towering over us both in giant heels that would have crippled a normal person and Josh naturally a shade taller than I was. "Zo, Jacque, vat's new wiz you?" 

As we collected her bags and headed out to the car I told Vlada about where I'd been traveling and what I'd been doing, and then she started telling us about her show, and her last couple of shoots. Vlada wasn't a supermodel, but she was known within her field, and her face was recognized by the public even if they couldn't always come up with the name that went with it. She was the kind of person you saw on a magazine cover, or a runway clip, or in an ad, and you thought, "Oh yeah, it's that girl." Maybe she wasn't Kate Moss or Cindy Crawford, but she was successful, and basked in a certain fame of her own. It was all the more baffling why she was with Chris, since she was like this big, gorgeous amazon and he, while cute enough, was kind of average, and pretty short, but they cared about each other very much. It was more a match of personalities, than physical characteristics, and besides, what went better with rock stars than models? It was so logical it was almost a cliche. 

"Are ve going zoots or casual zis evening?" Vlada asked as we pulled up at the hotel. I figured she was trying to decide between totally glam and shabby chic, or something I'd read in Cosmo on the plane. 

"Celebrity casual," Josh answered, grinning at me. 

"Why can't celebrity casual ever include khakis and a plain old button down?" I groaned, leaning against him. 

"I already picked something out for you," Josh said, squeezing me against him. I groaned again, and he laughed. "No rags, no sparkles, and no feathers, Jack. I promise." 

"Whatever," I laughed, kissing him. 

***Lance*** 

"Does this look ok?" Justin asked, walking into the bedroom from the bathroom. He was wearing white leather pants, white shoes, and a white shirt half unbuttoned to show a baby blue tank underneath. Long sleeves and lots of layers made Justin feel safe, less exposed. He hadn't picked out any jewelry yet, but Lance was sure he'd throw some kind of giant, but tight, necklace on. He saw Lance sitting on the bed, tying his shoes, and jerked to a stop. "Wow." 

"What?" Lance asked, glancing up. "Is something wrong with it?" 

"No," Justin answered, shaking his head. He swallowed thickly, visibly. "It's just, you know, not something you usually wear." 

Lance looked down at himself, and realized that Justin was right. He'd thought the same thing at the store, too, when Chad helped him pick it out, but Chad raved and raved over how perfect it looked, and the salespeople had all agreed, so he'd bought it. It wasn't really the pants, tight, patterned jeans, that made the outfit so surprising. It was the shirt, clinging to him like a second skin. Lance wasn't chiseled and cut like JC and Justin, but he was definitely muscled, and now, being on tour and working so hard, sweating off the extra layer that softened his curves a little, he was defined, and the shirt highlighted it. It wasn't quite sheer, but was thin enough that you could see the suggestion of his nipples through it, dark spots capping his chest. The v-neck dipped down to his breastbone, showing off his neck, and Lance's hand rose to fidget with the neckline as Justin stared at him. 

"Don't," Justin said quietly. "You look good. I was just, you know, I was surprised." 

"That I look good?" Lance asked, smiling. Justin didn't smile back, and Lance wondered what was wrong. 

"No, I'm sorry," Justin said, shaking his head. His throat felt very tight, suddenly, and he felt a little dizzy. "No. Yes. I, it's just so, different." 

What Justin thought, fleetingly, was that Lance looked hot. It wasn't his kind of thought. He didn't feel that way about Lance. He didn't feel that way about anyone, and he didn't want to, but he especially didn't feel that way about Lance. Lance was safe. Lance was soft, and kind, and caring. Lance wasn't hot. Lance couldn't be hot, not to Justin, because it might change the way they felt about each other. Justin blinked, shaking his head a little, feeling unsteady inside. He'd seen Lance in less, slept next to him every night with Lance just in boxers, but this was different somehow, and he didn't like that. It felt unsafe, and the room felt very small suddenly. Justin shook his head again, feeling his eyes drop down almost involuntarily to stare at Lance's chest as his brain screamed at him not to, not to look, not to look at Lance that way, not Lance. 

"Justin?" Lance asked, seeing his face change, watching the color drain out of it. 

Justin looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he turned and ran for the bathroom, arms flailing. Lance jumped up to follow, and heard Justin vomiting noisily into the toilet, holding the sides, shaking as he brought up his lunch, and the small dinner he'd shared with Lance here in the room. Lance dropped down next to him, rubbing his back, holding his shoulders, reaching for the flusher as Justin's body lurched beneath him. 

"Justin?" Lance asked. Had something been wrong with his dinner? "Justin, are you ok?" 

"I'm sorry," Justin choked, reddening, looking away. Lance grabbed some tissues off the roll and blotted around Justin's mouth, flushing them down the toilet as well. Water streamed from Justin's eyes, not tears of sadness, just an involuntary rush of stinging moisture. "I, I, can't, I don't." 

"No, Justin, it's ok," Lance said, pulling him carefully to his feet. "Come on, let's get you a drink. Let's rinse your mouth out, and get you a drink, ok?" 

"I'm sorry," Justin said again, his voice low and twisted. He was so embarrassed, but also afraid. He couldn't look at Lance, not after what he'd just seen, what he'd just thought, even if it was for just a second. What if he opened his eyes, and Lance still looked so, so unsafe? 

"It's ok," Lance said soothingly, walking him over to the sink. "It's ok Justin. Nothing to be sorry about. Do you feel like you have to do it again?" 

Justin shook his head, eyes tightly closed. 

"OK," Lance said, handing him a cup. Justin rinsed out his mouth, spit, and did it again. His legs were shaking a little, but Lance's hands on his shoulders felt gentle, and Lance guided him into the bedroom, stretching him out on the bed. Lance walked away for a second, and when he came back he had a cool, damp washcloth, and pressed it carefully to Justin's forehead. "Is that ok?" 

Justin blinked his eyes open finally, and saw Lance's green ones, concerned, above him. Justin breathed a sigh of relief. Lance looked like Lance again, caring, kind, and safe. This was his Lance, the Lance who protected him. That other Lance who had been here a second ago was gone, and Justin felt better already. He couldn't think about Lance that way, couldn't let himself, because then there wouldn't be anywhere he could go, anywhere he could run to, that was safe. He closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath, and Lance folded up the washcloth and laid it over them. 

"You just lay there until you feel better, ok?" Lance said quietly, whispering. He'd eaten the same dinner as Justin, but he felt fine. Then he realized that it was probably nerves. Justin was probably afraid to go out, and holding it inside instead of telling Lance about it. "I'm going to finish getting ready, unless you don't want to go." 

"No, I still want to go," Justin whispered. The washcloth felt cool against his eyes, and the bed was soft. He concentrated on just breathing in and out, willing his heart to slow down and stop pounding in his chest. 

"Are you sure?" Lance asked, not wanting to push him, or make him feel like he had to go out. They could stay in, and just send some of the guys. It would be ok, and the other guys would understand. "We don't have to if you're nervous, Justin." 

"No, I'll be ok," Justin said. "Just finish getting ready, ok? I can do this, Lance, and I want to. I want to go out again, and see people. I can do this Lance, ok? I can." 

"OK," Lance said, nodding. He turned away, even though Justin couldn't see him, thinking about how brave Justin was. As he was in the bathroom finishing his hair he heard a knock at the door. "Justin? It's probably one of the guys. Do you want me to get it?" 

"Please," Justin said softly. "I don't want to get up yet." 

"OK," Lance said, casting Justin a worried glance as he crossed through the suite room to the door. Justin had gotten sick so suddenly, and it bothered Lance. What if Justin had been worried and anxious all day? He never should have let him go by himself with Chris for the whole day, and he'd have to ask Chris later if anything had happened. Justin had said he was fine, and that he'd had a lot of fun, but what if he'd just been covering, to make Lance feel better? He opened the door, expecting Chris or JC, and was surprised to see Chad. "Hey." 

"Hey," Chad said, his eyes raking up and down Lance. "Told you that would look fabulous!" 

"Thanks," Lance said, blushing a little. "It's not really me, but hey, we tried." 

"I think it's definitely you, " Chad said, waiting expectantly at the door. 

"Did you need something?" Lance asked. "Justin isn't feeling well, and we have to go meet the others in the lobby in a couple minutes." 

"Is Justin ok?" Chad asked anxiously, his eyes huge. "He's not sick, is he? What about the tour? Will you still do the show tomorrow?" 

"Oh, yeah, he'll be fine," Lance said quickly. "We'll still be on tomorrow. He just needs a little rest." 

"Oh, ok," Chad said, nodding. He fidgeted nervously, twisting his hands. "I had, um, a question for you." 

"OK," Lance said, waiting. 

"I, um, I had a lot of fun, today, with you," Chad stammered, sweat breaking out on his forehead. "I know you have the show tomorrow, but I was wondering if, um, if you wanted to, maybe, did you want to grab some lunch tomorrow? With me?" 

Lance blinked in surprise, pausing for a second. 

"Sure," he answered finally. "I'm free at noon. Do you want to come here?" 

"Yeah! OK!" Chad gushed, letting out a huge breath of relief. "Yeah. Noon. Tomorrow. I'll see you right here, tomorrow. At noon." 

"OK," Lance said, smiling. He still couldn't believe Chad was so excited just to hang out with him, but maybe lunch would be fun again. He might even bring Justin, to cheer him up. "I'll see you tomorrow." 

"Yeah," Chad said, nodding. "Have fun tonight." 

"We will," Lance said, smiling. "Bye, Chad." 

In the bedroom, Justin heard the door close and pressed the washcloth back to his eyes, pretending he hadn't been listening. 


JACK'S POV: 

"Oh my God," I gushed, unable to stop myself. "I watch your show every week! It's like the best hour on television! It's so nice to meet you!" 

"Thanks," Jennifer Garner answered, smiling graciously. She was pretty enthused to meet Josh, so we were having a little mutual admiration cluster over there by the buffet tables. "I see you guys on TV a lot, too. I thought your wedding looked really nice." 

"Thanks," I said, nibbling at one of the appetizers on my plate. Usher went by, smiling and nodding at us both, and we both nodded back, even though I don't think either of us knew him. "So what's it like doing that much stunt work? Is it hard?" 

"You get used to it," she answered, sampling something from her plate as well. "I mean, I work with a trainer all the time, and I always come home with these huge bruises." 

"There you are!" Josh said from behind me, sliding an arm around my waist. "Hi again, Jennifer." 

"Hi," she giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. I wondered where her husband, that guy from "Felicity", was, and if he knew she was shooting eyes at Josh like that. Then again, everyone shot eyes at him. It was hard not to. "Jack says he watches my show. Do you watch it with him?" 

"Yeah, but I can never follow what's going on," Josh confessed. "I miss an episode, and I'm lost, and I have to save my questions because Jack only lets me talk during the commercials." 

"Jack!" Jennifer said, laughing. 

"Josh, don't tell people that," I said, laughing as well. "They'll think our marriage is in shambles." 

"Not if they see us," he said, kissing me on the cheek. I blushed, and Jennifer giggled again. 

Josh and I were both having a good time, relaxing and being social, and I decided it had been a good idea to come after all. I had to fly out early in the morning the day after tomorrow, so I kind of wanted to stay home, but I also didn't want Josh turning into a big hermit, and he really did love seeing and talking to people at these things. I drifted around the party on his arm in my suede blazer, very comfortable in the classy, low key outfit Josh had picked out for me, and I stood by his side and watched as he greeted old friends that he hadn't seen since the wedding. He was always quick to introduce me to anyone I didn't know, and we hadn't really been separated for most of the night. None of the people we had talked to seemed to know exactly what the party was for, either, but they all knew that MTV was throwing it. 

The rest of the guys seemed to be having just as much fun as we were. I saw Chris and Vlada dancing for a while, and then lost track of them, but someone said they were over talking to some other models on the far side of the ballroom. Joey hadn't danced at all, which was fairly typical, but he was sitting in a booth on the side talking to P Diddy, and some girl was dancing against his leg, which was odd but kind of cute. Lance and Justin had been hanging out by the food for a while, and then I saw them talking to a couple of the guys from O-Town, whose names I could never remember. Josh was looking pretty hot in a leather jacket that matched my blazer, with a similar pants and shirt combination underneath, and I wondered if the two of us were always going to appear together in matching outfits. It was cute, and it looked good in pictures, but when you actually thought about it, it was kind of odd. The real surprise for the night, though, had been Lance showing up to get in the limo in a shirt that left nothing to the imagination, and which he almost looked embarrassed to wear. He blushed when we mentioned it, even though he looked damn good in it, but who was he looking good for? 

"Do you mind if I borrow my husband" Josh asked, grinning at Jennifer as he rested his head on my shoulder. "I feel like dancing, baby." 

"No problem," Jennifer said with a little wave of her hand. "I should go find mine, too. It was nice to meet you guys, and I'm sure I'll see you around at one of these things again." 

"Definitely," Josh said, nodding. 

"Nice to meet you, too!" I called, as Josh pulled my little plate out of my hands and gave it to one of the many circulating waiters. "We should be nice to her, Josh. Maybe she can get us a walk on." 

"Jack!" he said, laughing. 

"What?" I asked, grinning. "My birthday's coming!" 

"Come on," he said, pulling on my hands. "I want to dance with you before you go all Hollywood on me." 

"OK," I said, letting him lead me onto the floor. 

Dancing with Josh was almost as good as having sex with him, honestly. He was lithe and graceful, and his whole body moved with the rhythm of whatever we were listening to. When I danced with Josh, the world narrowed to just me and him, the feel of his hands on my back and my hips, and the intense, burning look in his eye. When the song switched to something slow and grinding, he pulled me against him, leaning in to kiss me as I draped my arms around his neck, over his shoulders, feeling his chest against mine and his pelvis grinding against my own. Both of us were half hard, but we knew better than to go all out in public. Both of us were a little too modest for that, anyway. 

"I should have known if I wanted to find you two I just needed to look on the dancefloor," we heard from behind us, and I felt ice run down my spine. Turning, I saw that I had recognized the voice after all, and it wasn't a terrible dream. 

"Kevin!" I blurted, almost gasping, as Josh ground to a halt, paling. Both of us looked past Kevin, scanning the crowd. 

"Guys?" Kevin asked, his face a mixture of surprise and confusion. Normally we'd be happy to see him, since he was our friend, but normally we wouldn't be here with Justin. 

"Are you by yourself?" I asked, as Josh blurted, "I thought you guys weren't coming." 

"We changed our minds," Kevin said, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of us. "Guys, what's going on?" 

"Who's with you?" Josh asked. "Are all of you here?" 

"No, just me, AJ, and Nick," Kevin said. 

"Shit!" I hissed, pushing past him. Josh gripped my hand tightly, following, both of us looking for Justin. Kevin followed. 

"We have to get Justin out of here," Josh said firmly, looking around wildly. "Now." 

"They don't have to talk to each other," Kevin said, shaking his head. "They can stay on opposite sides of the room, for God's sake." 

"You don't understand!" I said urgently. Where was Justin? I spotted Chris and Vlada, and they glanced at us worriedly as they saw how upset Josh and I were. "Chris! Nick is here! Where's Justin?" 

"Fuck!" Chris hissed, looking around as well. He took Vlada's arm as she set her drink down. "Go find Joey! He's still over that way!" 

"Right!" she said, hurrying off. It was rare to see Vlada less than composed, but as I watched she actually shoved someone out of the way as she hurried across the room. We all knew how bad this could be, and we needed to get Justin out, now, as Josh had said. 

"There's Lance!" Chris blurted, pointing. The three of us hurried across the room, ignoring Kevin, who followed behind us asking again what was wrong. Chris grabbed Lance's arm, jerking him out of conversation with Nick Lachey. "Lance!" 

"Where's Justin?" Josh asked as Lance blinked at us. 

"He went to the bathroom," Lance answered, pointing. We turned as one, almost knocking Kevin over, and hurried toward the door, Chris forgetting to let Lance's arm go and Josh still gripping my hand tightly. "What's wrong?" 

"Nick is here," I said, and Lance looked for a second like he would pass out. I snapped my fingers in front of his face. "Stay with us!" 

"Oh my God, oh my God," Lance said, shaking his head. 

"It'll be fine," I lied as we tried to move through the crowd. A few people turned to look at us, but most of them just moved out of the way. 

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?" Kevin asked as I saw Joey and Vlada heading toward us from the other side of the bathroom. 

I flung the bathroom door open, the guys behind me pushing me through, and felt something snap inside my head. Everything in front of me seemed to slow down as rage clouded my vision. Nick spun to face us, his eyes wide, his expression surprised. In front of him, on the floor against the far wall of the bathroom, Justin was curled into a tiny ball, hiding his face beneath his arm and shrieking the word "No!" over and over. I didn't stop to see how he was, or say anything to either of them, as I launched myself across the room and tackled Nick, my hands closing around his neck. 


CHAPTER 115


LANCE'S POV: 

When Jack said that Nick was here, that Nick was inside the same city, the same building, the same room as Justin, Lance's entire world imploded in terror. He'd felt everything around him shrinking like a collapsing star, folding in on itself and away, and he thought he would pass out right then, drop to the floor. When Jack snapped his fingers in front of Lance's face it had jerked the world back into focus, reminding him that Justin needed him, that Justin was his priority, his responsibility. Justin had been so bright when they got here, so happy and smiling, almost like his old self, and when he had quietly told Lance that he was going to the bathroom, Lance had watched and nodded, but hadn't thought to go with him. The ballroom was safe, it was full of their people, and Justin would be ok here. 

But Justin wasn't ok. It wasn't safe here. 

When they burst into the bathroom, Lance hardly noticed Nick at all, so focused was he on Justin. He saw Justin on the floor, heard the terror in his voice, not just fear but abject, heartrending terror, and felt everything inside him breaking. He had failed Justin. He had looked away for a minute, and let this happen, let Justin come face to face with his own private boogeyman. All of the improvements Justin had made, all of the slow, slow progress in rebuilding himself and slowly working his way back to the way he was, had all been done in the absence of Nick. Justin hadn't spoken to him, hadn't seen him in a magazine, heard him on the radio, or seen him on television. Justin saw Nick in his mind, and in his dreams, but hadn't seen him for real, face to face, close enough to him to touch him, to talk to him, or to do it again. 

That's what Justin was most afraid of, what he'd confessed to Lance in the middle of the night, clutching him in the darkness. Justin was afraid that someday, somehow, Nick would come back. 

"You son of a bitch!" Jack screamed, throwing himself across the bathroom, slamming into Nick. Nick seemed too surprised to move, and Jack tackled him to the floor, his hands fastened around Nick's neck as Nick's eyes bulged. 

"Jack! Nick!" Kevin yelled, following them in. Chris shouldered him out of the way. 

"Jack, let go!" Chris yelled, grabbing one of his arms. 

Justin, still shrieking, scrabbled across the floor without looking at any of them, kicking and jerking himself along the floor in a lurching crawl that still seemed blindingly fast to Lance as Lance tried to step around Jack and Nick, not caring what Jack did to him. Justin bounced into a stall and kicked it closed behind him, his yelping No's becoming wordless noises of fear, his arms still wrapped around himself, one holding his head and the other fastened on the waist of his pants, holding them up. The last glimpse of him Lance had before the door slammed closed was Justin crawling as far back into the stall as possible, curling himself up into a tight, fetal ball. 

"Fucking kill you!" Jack hissed, his hands so tight on Nick's throat that the tendons on the backs of them stood out in rigid relief. His teeth were gritted, his lips pulled back, and below him Nick's face was red, rapidly darkening to purple as his arms flailed ineffectually at Jack's. 

"Stop it!" JC said, grabbing Jack's other arm. JC and Chris were both pulling at him, and Kevin grabbed his shoulders, but Jack would not be moved. "Jack, stop it! You'll kill him!" 

"What did you do to him?" Jack yelled, bouncing Nick's head off of the tiled floor. Nick's eyes were rolling up in his head, and Lance thought quickly that being strangled on the bathroom floor at an MTV party was better than Nick deserved. "What did you do to him now?" 

"Get the door," Joey said, pulling Chris away. Chris and Vlada, understanding, blocked the door so that no one else could come in, Vlada slipping outside to turn people away. Joey grabbed Jack's shoulders and jerked him away from Nick, manhandling him across the room as Jack fought against him. "Stop it, Jack!" 

"Let go of me!" Jack yelled, fighting Joey. 

"This isn't the place!" Joey said. 

Lance pushed open the stall door, and Justin squeaked, pressing himself back against the wall, curling down into the smallest shape possible. Justin was actually trying to get behind the toilet, sobbing and shaking. Lance reached out for him, and Justin screamed, a loud, piercing sound that cut through the bathroom. 

"Justin, Justin, it's Lance, " Lance said, feeling tears run down his face. He had to help him. "Lance." 

Justin made a noise, but one blue eye peeked around the edge of his arm, and then he grabbed Lance and buried his face against Lance's chest, pulling him into the stall. Justin's fingers dug painfully into Lance's sides, and Lance folded himself around Justin, holding him. Justin shook against him, his heart racing, hyperventilating, and Lance wondered if they might have to take him to the emergency room. The front of Lance's shirt was instantly wet, and Lance realized Justin was sobbing hysterically and struggling to breathe, as well as dripping with sweat. 

"Jack, stop," JC said firmly, grabbing Jack's face. His eyes bored into Jack's, and whatever had taken Jack over drained out of him. "Stop." 

Nick rolled over, pulling himself up on his hands and knees, coughing painfully. 

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" Kevin demanded, looking around at all of them. "Jack? JC?" 

JC held onto Jack, and Lance could see from the floor as he held Justin that Jack was shaking, either from adrenaline, emotion, or both. Joey stood near them, and Chris was still pressing his back against the door. 

"Get him out of here, Kevin, " JC said icily. "Get him out of here. Please." 

"Not until you tell me what's going on," Kevin said, his dark eyebrows twisted together. 

"No," Joey said bluntly, jerking Nick to his feet by the back of his shirt. He shoved Nick toward Kevin, who caught him. Nick was still coughing. "Take him away, Kevin." 

"Joey, I," Nick croaked, and he was cut off when Joey's fist smacked into his face, rocking his head back. 

"Shut up!" Joey screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. He grabbed Nick's collar and jerked him up close to him. "Get the fuck out of here right now, or I'll kill you." 

"Get away from him," Kevin said, shoving Joey away. 

"Kevin, please, get him out of here," Jack said quietly. 

"Let's go," Nick choked, glaring at Jack. Everyone glared back at him, except for Justin, who still sobbed and keened helplessly as Lance rocked him. 

"Nick," Kevin began, but Nick shook his head. Handprints stood out vividly on his neck in bright red relief, so stark in the fluorescent light that Lance could see the line of Jack's wedding bands on Nick's skin, and there was a red mark around his eye where Joey had just punched him. Kevin gave them all a confused last glance as he led Nick through the door, Chris glaring at Nick as if he wanted to bite him. Lance thought of the bite on Justin's shoulder, healed now but leaving a ring of scar tissue, and shuddered. Nick looked back like he wanted to say something, but he just turned away, and they all turned back to the bathroom stall as the door to the ballroom closed. 

"Justin," Lance said, holding him tightly. "Justin, he's gone. He's not here anymore, he's gone." 

Justin just sobbed against him, muttering and trying to talk. Lance tried to ease him out of the stall, and Justin fought, clinging to him, the toilet pressing into Lance's back as Justin's face dug almost painfully into his chest. JC leaned into the stall, reaching out to touch Justin's shoulder, probably about to say something soothing, but Justin yelped and pulled away, and Lance shook his head. 

"Don't," Lance said quietly. "Don't touch him, JC, please." 

"He touched me," Justin whispered quietly. They were all silent. "Lance, he touched me. He was here, he was here, and he, he put, put his hand on my, he touched my shoulder. He touched me." 

"He's gone now," Lance said, rocking back and forth. Jack wiped at his eyes, turning away from them. "He's gone. You're safe. Kevin took him away, and he's gone, Justin. He can't touch you." 

"I didn't want him to," Justin whimpered. "I didn't. I didn't want him to." 

Lance couldn't tell if Justin meant tonight, if he meant before, or if he meant both. 

"It's ok, Justin," Lance whispered, rubbing the back of Justin's head. "It's ok. I want to take you back to the hotel, ok?" 

"No!" Justin said sharply, jerking against Lance. "No! No, he's here! He's out there, and he'll, he'll find me, and he'll hold me down, and." 

"No, Justin, no," Lance said, still holding his tightly. Justin's voice was cracking with fear, and he still hadn't lifted his face from Lance's chest. "Justin, he's gone. He can't hurt you anymore. I won't let him, Justin." 

"He touched me," Justin whimpered again, and then just continued to cry against Lance. Lance held onto him, making shhhh-ing noises, and tried to calm him down. The other guys looked away, huddling at the other end of the bathroom. They were whispering, but Lance could still hear them. 

"We have to get him out of here," Jack said, staring at his hands. The expression on his face was hard to read, but he definitely didn't look guilty. "Vlada's not going to be able to keep people away from the bathroom forever." 

"How?" JC asked. "We can't even get him out of the stall. I mean, I'm sure Lance can, but we don't have time." 

"Go talk to him," Jack whispered, staring at JC. 

"What makes you think I'll do any better than Lance?" JC asked, shaking his head. 

"You know why," Jack said sharply. The two of them locked eyes, and Lance could feel the tension between them. What was between JC and Justin, and Jack, was one of the great unspoken topics among the rest of them. "Josh, please. He might listen to you." 

JC nodded, and walked back over to the stall, dropping to his knees. 

"Justin? Curly? It's Josh," he said, swallowing. Lance felt Justin pause, calming a little, and pushed away the surge of resentment that bubbled up in him. He was the one who cared about Justin, and Justin still dropped everything for JC, who could play him like a puppet on a stage with his slightest whim. No, that was stupid. They all cared about Justin, all wanted to help him. "We want to take you back to the hotel, Justin, where it's safe. We can't stay here, can't stay in the bathroom. He's gone, Kevin took him away, but we want to take you away, too. Will you let us take you away? Please?" 

"No," Justin answered finally, still clutching Lance. Lance felt a surge of triumph, as inappropriate as his previous spike of jealousy, and wondered what was wrong with him. "I can't." 

"Yes you can," Joey said firmly from behind them. JC slid out of the way, thinking maybe that Joey could help, and Lance curled his arms protectively around Justin as Joey dropped to his knees. "Justin, if you don't get up, right now, and walk out with us, everyone out there will know." 

Chris's eyes went wide, and Jack sucked in a sharp breath. JC stared at Joey like he didn't know who he was, but Justin stopped shaking, sitting still. 

"Is that what you want, Justin?" Joey asked harshly. 

"Leave him alone!" Lance hissed. He couldn't believe Joey would do this to Justin, would hurt him and betray him like this. 

"I'm not talking to you, Lance," Joey said. "Justin, do you want everyone to know what happened, what Nick did to you?" 

Justin jerked at the sound of Nick's name. No one else had used it. 

"No," Justin whispered. 

"Yes, Justin," Joey said. "If you don't get up right now, and wash off your face, and walk out of here with us, everyone will know. Everyone in that room will know what happened to you unless you can be Justin." 

"No," Justin said again, more firmly this time. He looked up into Joey's hard eyes, and wiped at his own with his hand as he began to unfold himself from Lance's grip. 

"Come on," JC said, taking Justin's hand, still staring at Joey as if he couldn't believe it. "Let's go wash your face." 

Justin allowed JC to walk him slowly away from the stall, and Jack leaned out of the bathroom door to tell Vlada it was ok, and that they'd be right out. 

"No, no, it's nothing," they heard Jack telling someone. Jack thought he was a bad actor sometimes, but he sounded damn convincing to them. "Justin isn't feeling well, and we're going to take him home, that's all. It's nothing. We'll be out in just a second." 

Over at the sinks, JC had cupped his hands together, and Justin was drinking from them. Lance stood, leaning toward Joey, almost lunging. 

"How could you do that to him?" Lance hissed. 

"You think I wanted to?" Joey asked. "Someone had to be the bad guy." 

"And of course it had to be you!" Lance said, his hands curling into fists. He wanted to hit Joey, wanted to hit him right in the teeth, over and over. Images flashed through his mind, Joey sinking to the floor, Lance standing over him, fists clenched. Lance wanted to give Joey some correction. Chris grabbed his wrist. 

"Lance," Chris said, distracting him. "Go help Justin. He needs you." 

Lance nodded and stepped away. He didn't look at Joey, didn't want to see him, and Joey turned away, holding a hand over his eyes. Chris put a hand on Joey's shoulder, and Joey shrugged it off. He didn't want to see any of them, and didn't want their comfort, not after what he'd just done. Someone had to be the bad guy, had to push Justin into pulling it together, but he still felt like shit, and he didn't want to see the way the rest of them looked at him. Lance walked over to Justin, who was standing still, letting JC blot at his face with a wet paper towel, and Justin hugged Lance tightly. 

"Can we go?" Justin whispered. 

"Yes," Lance answered, holding him, as Justin rested his head on Lance's shoulder. He was still shaking, but he looked a lot more together. "We're going to walk out, Justin, and a lot of people are going to be looking, but I don't want you to see them, ok? Just keep your head down, and we'll take you right to the elevator, ok?" 

"OK," Justin said, gripping Lance's hand. 

Chris looked at their linked hands and thought about saying something, but instead he bit it back. Justin needed Lance more than they needed to worry about how things looked. Jack and JC linked arms, leaning naturally into each other and squelching the tension between them, and Lance and Justin fell in behind them, Chris and Vlada sliding into place on either side as they all stepped out of the bathroom. Joey took the rear, walking quietly behind. Just before they stepped back into the ballroom, Justin looked back at Joey, their eyes meeting, but his expression was unreadable. 

As Lance had planned, they moved straight for the elevators, aided by the MTV staff, who had bought Jack's story about Justin feeling sick. On all sides they nodded and said good night to people, smiling their concerned friend smiles, deflecting questions, and Justin kept his head down the entire way, squeezing Lance's hand tightly, flinching a little each time someone called his name. Lance thought idly that it was probably a good thing Justin still looked so pale and sweaty, as it would just lend more credibility to the story. When they were finally all in the elevator, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Justin leaned on Lance, his eyes still down. 

The ride back to the hotel was completely silent. Jack and JC sat holding hands, but they were looking out the window, not at each other. Joey sat as far from everyone else as possible, also watching the streets go by. Chris held Vlada against him, his eyes ticking over everyone else in the car as if he were trying to figure out who he should help first. Justin slid down in the seat a little, laying his head on Lance's chest, and Lance held onto him, running one hand over and over his hair and rubbing the other in circles around his back. It was the best move for comforting Justin for some reason. It always calmed him. When they finally pulled in, they all piled into one elevator, and then all followed Lance and Justin to their suite, waiting as Lance fumbled out the key card. Vlada kissed Chris on the cheek. 

"Ees private," she said, hugging him. "I vill go. Good night, everyvun. Good night, Yustin." 

Justin nodded in her direction, still clinging to Lance, and Lance pulled the door open. The others hovered at the threshold, unsure of whether they should invite themselves in. 

"Do you want us?" Chris asked finally, and Justin nodded, so Lance did as well as he walked Justin into the bedroom. Josh and Jack, still holding hands, followed them, as did Chris, but when Joey walked in, Lance glared. 

"Not you," he said quietly, his voice steel, laying Justin down on his side. Nobody said anything, and Joey, looking down, turned and walked out. Jack watched him go. Lance looked down at Justin, lying with his eyes closed, and smoothed the hair over his forehead again. "I'm going to take your shoes off, ok?" 

Justin nodded, and Chris leaned down. 

"Justin?" Chris asked quietly, keeping a little distance in case Justin opened his eyes. "Can we get you anything? Do you need anything?" 

"I just wanted to go to the bathroom," Justin whispered, his eyes still closed. "I thought it would be ok. We were having a good time, and Lance was talking to someone, and he was smiling. Lance doesn't smile enough anymore, and I didn't want him to stop, so I thought I would go to the bathroom." 

"I'm sorry, Justin," Lance said, his breath catching. Why did Justin keep doing things for him when he should have been thinking about himself? Justin reached out blindly, and Lance took his hands, kneeling by the bed. 

"No, I thought it was ok," Justin said. "I went pee, and I thought it was ok. I thought I was safe, and I went to the sink to wash my hands, and I was, I was looking into the sink, and I heard the bathroom door open, and I thought it was ok, and then he said my name." 

Tears were starting to slide from between Justin's closed eyes, and his hands tightened on Lance's. 

"I thought, I thought it was someone else," Justin whispered. "I didn't think it was real. I forgot what he sounds like. I forgot the way he used to say it, the way it sounded in his mouth, but it was him. I looked up, and he was in the mirror, and I thought, I still thought it wasn't real. I thought it couldn't be, that he wasn't really there, because he couldn't be, because I was safe, and then he, then he touched my, he put his hand on my shoulder. He touched me, and it was real. It was real." 

"Justin, did he, um, did he hurt you, again?" JC asked. "Did he do something to you?" 

Justin shook his head, unable to answer, and pulled on Lance's hands tightly. 

"It's ok," Lance soothed. "It's ok, he's not here now." 

"He was there," Justin repeated. "He was there, and it was real." 

"I know, Justin, I know," Lance said, sitting on the bed now. He rubbed Justin's back with his hand, letting Justin hold the other one. "You're safe now, and I'm here. We're all here." 

"Justin?" Jack asked, leaning in. "Do you want me to go get Junior? Do you want him to sleep over here tonight? Would that make you feel better?" 

"Yes, please," Justin answered, still not opening his eyes. He was crying softly, tears just flowing out, and so pale that Lance was a little worried. 

"We'll be right back, ok?" Jack asked, and Justin nodded. Lance smiled gratefully at Jack, knowing that Junior being here would give Justin something to hold onto. Jack walked toward the door, and JC wordlessly followed. 


JACK'S POV: 

I wasn't sure how I felt as I walked out of Justin and Lance's suite, because there didn't really seem to be one term that could cover it. I felt raw, everything inside me laid open, and also exhausted. My hands actually hurt from squeezing Nick's neck, but I didn't clearly remember it. I remembered us walking into the bathroom and seeing him, and then I remember being on top of him on the floor as the others pulled me off. In between there was just a red cloud of rage, a place I didn't think I'd ever entered before, and I hadn't left it, not completely, until Josh was holding my face in his hands, and I was staring into his blue eyes, my calm, my center. I could see that he was as angry as I was, but Josh dealt with his anger in different ways. I'd only ever seen him turn physical once, and that had been under extreme duress. 

"Jack?" Josh said quietly from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I opened the suite door, and we stepped inside, Junior running toward us as I turned and Josh and I hugged, resting our heads on each other's shoulders. 

"Are you all right?" I asked, holding him, smelling his hair and his neck. It was fresh and clean, sort of musky, mixed with the cologne he always wore, and the smells of his shampoos. 

"I think so," he said. "Are you?" 

"My hands hurt," I answered, stepping away from him. I was upset about something else, too, several things, actually, but Josh knew what at least one of them was. I knelt down and petted Junior's head as Josh stood in the darkness, not turning on the lights. 

"I love Justin, Jack," Josh said finally. "I'm not going to apologize for it. He's my brother, and my friend, and I love him. I love you, too, with my heart and soul, but he's always going to be special to me, Jack. He's always going to have a place in my heart." 

"I know," I said quietly. Justin was Josh's first love. You couldn't measure Josh's love, couldn't say that he loved me more, but it was safe to say that he loved me more completely, and when Josh had a choice, he had made it, and that was part of what put us where we were now. There was room in his heart for both of us, but it was hard sometimes to see them both and to feel their connection. Josh was happy with me, and someday Justin would be happy, too, but the two of them would always be joined, and I accepted that. "I didn't ask you to apologize." 

"I know," he said. "But what you said, in the bathroom, I know it hurt you." 

"I said it for a reason," I said, still petting the dog. "He's still in love with you, Josh. Maybe it's not the same way that it was, but he still loves you as much as you love him, maybe more." 

"And it doesn't do him a damn bit of good," Josh said bitterly. He dropped down next to me, petting Junior, too, and his hand slid over mine. Josh actually felt guilty for not loving Justin back the same way, for not loving Justin the way that he loved me, but that was Josh's way. He took the blame for everyone around him, even as he tried to comfort us. 

"Josh, is there anything I can do?" I asked, taking his hand. I brushed my other hand over his cheek, and he nuzzled his face against my palm. "I know this hurts you, Josh, and you know it hurts me, too. I love Justin. I haven't always liked him, but I love him, and all of the rest of them, too. What can I do to help you?" 

"Love me," Josh answered, squeezing me tightly. "Love me, and tell me everything'll be ok." 

I held him in the darkness of our suite, not knowing what else I could do. Since I'd been kidnapped, it seemed like all I did was cry, and lean on Josh. It had been so long since he'd needed to lean on me, since he had been anything other than my rock, that I'd almost forgotten what it was like. I realized that he was crying against me, and I held him to my chest, telling him that I loved him and that everything would be ok. After a minute or two he got himself under control again, still holding on to me, and I kissed him on the forehead. This was taking such a toll on all of us, and I wondered when and how it would end. 

"Come on," Josh said, kissing my forehead as well. "Let's get Junior over there. Justin needs him." 

"I know," I said, grabbing Junior's little pet bed. We carried it back and forth from room to room when we shuttled Junior back and forth, so that he wouldn't be disoriented. I wondered if he knew, somewhere in his tiny doggy mind, that he didn't lead anything resembling an ordinary canine existence. "Do you have him?" 

"Yeah," Josh answered, picking Junior up. "Jack? I love you." 

"I know," I answered, smiling at him in the darkness. I knew he couldn't see it, but he knew it was there. "I love you, too." 

We walked back to Justin and Lance's room, tapping at the door, and Chris let us inside. We looked past him to the bedroom, and saw Lance and Justin on the bed. Lance was sitting up, his back in a pile of pillows against the headboard, and Justin was lying on his side with his head in Lance's lap. Justin's eyes were still closed, but not squeezed shut, and he held one of Lance's hands in both of his as Lance stroked his hair with the other. Lance looked up at us, unable to smile, his face tired, and he whispered something to Justin, probably telling him who we were. 

"Justin?" Josh asked. "We brought Junior over. Do you want to hold him?" 

"Yes, please," Justin answered. His voice sounded softly hollow, completely empty, as if there wasn't anything left inside him. He had lost the outer shirt while we were gone, and was in his pants, socks, and the baby blue tank top, looking very young. Josh set Junior down on the bed, and Justin reached out for him. Junior, as if knowing what was needed, curled up against him, pressed against Justin's abdomen, and Justin began to cry softly again, tears trickling down from his closed eyes as his hands curled around Junior. Chris pulled Josh and I into the suite room. 

"Lance gave him a sleeping pill while you were gone," Chris whispered. "We're just waiting for it to kick in." 

"A sleeping pill?" Josh asked, almost forgetting to whisper. Josh rarely drank, and felt even more strongly about drugs. 

"They're from his doctor," Chris whispered. "I didn't know, either. He doesn't take them hardly ever, and Lance keeps the bottle, so that there aren't any accidents." 

Josh sighed, wiping at his eyes, and I hugged him again. The idea of Justin having an "accident" with the sleeping pills chilled me, and I knew it would scare the hell out of Josh, too. Chris only said it because he never sugarcoated things with us, but I could tell from his face that he wanted to go take the bottle and lock it in the safe. Josh was scared, but he wouldn't break down in here, not in front of Justin. Justin needed him to be strong. Justin and Lance weren't the only ones who needed help, though. 

"Josh, do you want to stay here until he falls asleep?" I asked, still whispering. 

"Where are you going?" he asked, brushing his fingers over my cheek, staring at me with his deep blue eyes. 

"I want to go check on Joey, " I said, a chill shooting down my spine as I realized how familiar this sounded. Every time I went to check on one of the guys alone I found them in some terrible distress. Chris must have thought the same thing, because he touched my shoulder. 

"I'll go with you," he said, and I nodded. 

"OK," Josh said, hugging me again. "I'll stay here until you come back." 

Chris and I stopped in the bedroom to say goodnight to Justin and Lance, and then we left, heading for Joey's room.