JC's Hitchhiker

 

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CHAPTER 96

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JACK'S POV: 

Our meeting with Lisann went well. She had a lot of stuff to wrap up with us, but most of the basic issues had been taken care of. Bills had been paid, the top of the cake had been frozen and given to Chris to take home until we got back, and we had picked out the pictures that we wanted sent to the various magazines, fulfilling all our contracts. We would pick out our own pictures when we got back, but we needed to get the media taken care of quickly so that they would leave us alone. The guests were enjoying another day at the resort if they chose, and those that did not were being driven to the airport for their waiting planes today. Those that did stay would be flown out tomorrow, or they would drive themselves home, and Lisann had done a fabulous job of making sure everyone stayed active and had a good time. 

"We just have one more thing to wrap up, and then the limousine is waiting to take you two to the airport," Lisann said, consulting her notes. As always, she was flawlessly poised, impeccably dressed, consulting a clipboard resting on her lap and checking things off smoothly with one of her ever present gold pencils. "Gifts and thank you notes." 

"There weren't supposed to be any gifts," I sighed. "Not to sound ungrateful or anything, but you'd think people could read." 

"They just want to show us they're happy for us," Josh said, laughing. "You have to look at the bright side, Jack. Look at all the stuff we got." 

"I know, Josh," I sighed, looking at the four long tables piled high with presents. "And I appreciate the little gifts from people, the special stuff that I know is in there, but really, we don't need more stuff. We already have most of my things in storage, and just opening this and filling out the thank you cards is going to be a full time job." 

Our guests had been instructed not to bring gifts. If they felt like they needed to do something, we had listed a set of charities that we would prefer donations be made to, like Justin's foundation, some things Josh supported, and a few gay and lesbian organizations that I thought could use the extra money. Most of the guests had done as we requested, but still people seemed to feel like they couldn't show up at a wedding without a present, so we were left with a virtual mountain of gifts. 

"I had a suggestion to make about this, actually," Lisann began. We both waited for her to continue, but every once in a while she liked to take a pause and make sure she had our full attention. "I know that you will be out of town for two weeks, and I've been told that when you return, Joshua will be going back to work almost immediately. Jack, what are your plans, if you don't mind my asking?" 

"Actually, when we get back I'm going to start looking for work, as well," I said, feeling Josh throw an arm around my shoulders again. When we were sitting side by side, his arm just naturally seemed to drift up there, and I liked it too much to ever shrug it off. "I've been given a clean bill of health, more or less, and I'll go stir crazy soon if I don't have something to do. Why?" 

"Well, you're both going to be very busy, and yet there's all of this to take care of," Lisann said, gesturing at the tables. "I know neither one of you is the type to just let this stay undone, but it might be too large a task for the two of you to handle alone. I think perhaps that the two of you should hire an assistant to help with it." 

"This can't possibly be my real life," I said, half joking, holding my face in my hands. "We have so many presents we have to hire someone to help us open them?" 

Josh snickered and rubbed his hand in lazy circles around my back. 

"Jack, you know what she means," he said calmly. "Stop being so melodramatic. I've actually been thinking that we might need an assistant for a couple weeks now. We're getting a lot of mail, addressed to both of us, and Johnny doesn't really like to have the studio staff open things that are addressed to you, since you're not under our contract. Maybe we could get a part time secretary, or something, to help us with stuff like that. And, you know, if you're going to be sending out resumes or whatever, you might need someone to help you stay on top of that." 

"And it's not to help open the gifts," Lisann continued. "It's to help you with the thank you notes. You don't want people to think you don't appreciate their generosity, do you?" 

"No, I guess," I said, shrugging. "It's just, you know, do we really need our own personal secretary?" 

"Not a secretary," Lisann said. "An assistant. And it was just an idea." 

"I think it's a good one," Josh said. "And like I said, I've been thinking about it for a while. There's all those people calling you for appearances, and all our fan mail, and now the wedding stuff. It doesn't have to be permanent. It's just that we're going to start rehearsals and stuff, and I won't be around as much as I have been. I don't want you to get buried under this stuff." 

"OK, I guess," I said, seeing the wisdom in what Josh was saying. We were barely keeping up with our mail as it was, and we didn't answer most of it. We were still getting a lot of letters from people of all ages who supported Josh's decision to go public, and some of the stories they shared were so moving that we felt like we had to drop them a little note back. Adding thank you notes for six hundred guests, and trying to find a job at the same time, might possibly be a little more than I could handle. Maybe. "How do we go about hiring such a person?" 

"We can do it when we get back," Josh said, kissing me on the cheek. "Lisann, why don't we have all the presents delivered to my house, and they can store them all in the garage? Justin has a key, and can let your staff in and supervise the unloading with you." 

"Perfect," Lisann said, checking it off on her notepad. I guess that it was the last thing on there, because she smiled at us and stood. "Unless you two have any more questions, I think I should send you out to your driver. Your bags are already loaded, and it's time you got on with your honeymoon." 

Josh crossed over and held out his arms for a hug. Lisann melted into them, blushing. 

"Lisann, thank you so much," Josh said, stepping back so I could offer her a hug as well. "We wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you." 

"Thanks for putting up with whining, and tantrums, and hysterical outbursts," I added, feeling oddly teary suddenly. Who gets choked up saying goodbye to their wedding planner? 

"Thank you both for giving me the chance to be a part of this," she said, stepping back and smoothing her suit in one move. "And don't worry, I'll be in touch as soon as you get back." 

Lisann waved us away as we climbed into the limousine, resting against each other in the plush backseat as we drove to the airport. All of our bags were in the trunk, and Josh yawned as he rested his head on my shoulder. I laughed, stroking his hair with my hand, and felt his breath fluttering out over my neck as his eyes slid closed. 

"Tired?" I asked. 

"A little," he answered, not opening his eyes as he nuzzled a little more tightly against me. "Mostly just happy." 

"Me, too," I sighed. 

The ride to the airport was short, and I was surprised to see someone else get out of the front of the limousine, along with the driver, as Josh handed me a hat and pulled on his hat and sunglasses. The little divider had been up the entire time, so I hadn't been able to see in, and now I was a little surprised to see a tall, unknown stranger with a carryon bag getting out with us. Josh held my hand, not seeming surprised, as the driver flagged down a skycap with a cart for our eight bags. I scooped out my carryon, and Josh grabbed his, but he still hadn't said anything about the other guy. I looked him over, taking in the broad shoulders and firm chest, and the way his eyes were darting around. He looked casual, more so than either of us, who were on the flashy club kid side of incognito. 

"Josh?" I asked finally, and he turned toward me, squeezing my hand. "Who's our friend?" 

"Oh, Jack, I totally forgot!" Josh said, smacking himself on the forehead. He turned to our mystery guest, motioning him to step closer. "Jack, this is Andrew. He's going to be our guard for the honeymoon." 

"Hi," Andrew said, holding out his hand. I knew we had a bodyguard, since we never went anywhere without one anymore, but Josh hadn't mentioned it to me, and I was a little taken aback. "Pleased to meet you." 

He seemed nice, but was also kind of intimidating. He had long straight blonde hair, kind of sandy, pulled behind his head into a ponytail. He was wearing a light jacket over his plain black t-shirt, and I wondered if we needed to let him know that nothing screamed "bodyguard" like all black, especially in warm weather. Under his shirt I could tell that he was built, and I knew that was supposed to make me feel safe, but when he shook my hand I saw a side holster and a handgun beneath his jacket. 

"Oh my God!" I blurted, knowing my eyes were wide. "Are you allowed to bring that on the plane?" 

"I have a special permit," he said, shrugging. His voice was hard to read, and for a second I got the feeling that he didn't like me, but then he smiled thinly. Maybe it was the best he could do. "Besides, I'm kind of hoping not to have to use it, you know?" 

"Yeah, I guess," I said, squeezing Josh's hand. "Josh, can I, um, see you for a minute? Over there?" 

"Sure," Josh said, his face uncertain. I tugged him over by a potted plant, noticing that Andrew was watching us. "I'm sorry I forgot to tell you, Jack." 

"Josh, I'm not mad," I said quickly, leaning forward. He bent forward a little, too, so that our foreheads were touching, and I rested my hands on his shoulders as he put his on my chest. "I just, well, why not Hank? I mean, who the hell is this guy? I know the trip can't be just us, but I don't know this guy, Josh. I know he's supposed to make us feel safe, but I don't know him. I wish you had said something. I know it's because he's a stranger, but I just don't feel right, Josh." 

Josh's eyes widened, blue and warm with their little flecks of green mixed in. 

"Oh, God, baby," Josh said, his voice suddenly filled with concern. Sometimes I was nervous around strangers, and unknown people in my space, because of what had happened to me. "I'm sorry. Are you ok? Do you feel ok?" 

"Yeah, I'm fine, I think," I said, feeling a little unsettled, but not dangerously so. "Don't worry about that." 

"I should have thought about that, though," Josh said, his arms sliding around to hug me tightly. "I should have thought about how this might affect you, but I was all caught up with the wedding, and Justin, and Lance, and I just didn't think of it. I'm sorry, Jack, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to just spring him on you." 

"Stop, Josh, please," I said, holding onto him, feeling his strong heart beating against me. "I don't want to start our trip like this, with apologies and fighting, especially over this. This isn't worth getting upset over. I'm sure he's a nice guy and all, and I'll get to know him, and everything will be ok. I mean, he's not Hank or Dom, but I'm sure he'll grow on me." 

"Hank has a part on a soap, and Dom wanted to stay in LA," Josh said. "Andrew's from the same agency, though. If you really don't like him, I can get someone else. I just don't want us going to all of these different places without someone accompanying us." 

"No, Josh, it's not that I don't like him," I said quickly. "I just don't know him, but I guess we have the whole trip to work on that. God only knows what he thinks of us already, standing over by a column to whisper to each other. What time is our flight, anyway?" 

"Give me your hand," Josh said suddenly, holding his out. Confused, I gave him my hand, and he deftly unhooked my watch and pocketed it. "There." 

"Hey!" I said, reaching for his pocket. He caught my hand in his, and then my other hand as I tried with that one. "Josh!" 

"No watch for the rest of vacation, Jack," Josh said, pecking me quickly on the lips. "I don't want you worrying about anything, or checking the time, or anything else. This whole trip is up to me, and all you need to do is relax, and enjoy the ride. OK?" 

"That's my watch, Josh," I protested, still feeling it on my wrist. I needed it. I was always the one who kept us on a schedule, or watched the clock. "You bought it for me." 

"Josh giveth, and Josh taketh away," he said, smiling. "I told you, I'm not giving it back." 

"I could always just check the time on my phone," I said, smiling back at him as he still held my hands. He brought one to his mouth, kissing the palm, and then the other, chuckling. 

"Don't make me take that, too," he said. Josh let go of my hands and took my face in his long, soft fingers, tilting it up toward his. "I mean it. After the wedding and everything, you are to completely relax on this trip, and that's an order." 

To reinforce his directive, Josh pressed his lips down to mine, their soft texture seeming to caress my lips as they brushed over me. He pressed his tongue into my mouth, dancing around my teeth and over my own tongue. I sighed, and he began to sigh against me as well, his fingers dancing along my jawline. My tongue pushed past his and into his own mouth, and he began to suck lightly at it, twirling his tongue around it. When we finally pulled apart, with a wet, sucking sound, there was a little spit on my lip, and Josh leaned down and licked it off. Right when he did we heard a camera go off. 

"Shit," I whispered. 

"Busted," Josh added. 

Andrew appeared behind us as we turned and waved at the photographer. It looked to be a family of tourists, unless the paparazzi were having "Bring your family to work day", and they seemed rather harmless. 

"We should get you guys inside," Andrew said, putting a hand on each of our shoulders. I shrugged it off, but he didn't seem to notice. "Before someone else recognizes you." 

"Andrew, they're harmless," I said. "It's just some family that saw us and wanted to take our picture. I'm sure they don't mean any trouble." 

"It's that kind of trusting thinking that got you in trouble the last time, isn't it?" Andrew asked, staring down at me. I stepped back, against Josh, my mouth dropping open. 

"Andrew, calm down, please," Josh said, his arms around my shoulders. "Jack's right; it's just a family taking pictures. Andrew, you're right, too. If someone recognized us, someone else probably will soon, too, so we should probably get inside." 

I stepped away and turned to stare at him as Andrew crossed his arms. Obviously neither one of us was happy with the compromise that both of us were right, and I couldn't believe Josh was going to let him speak so harshly to me. 

"Josh!" I said sharply, feeling pissy suddenly. 

"Look, guys," Josh began, looking from me to Andrew and back again. "It's obvious we all need a little time to get used to each other. Jack, Andrew's just trying to keep an eye on us for possible threats. We've gotten a lot of hate mail about the wedding, from people who, you know, don't like gay people, and I wanted someone who could handle any kind of stuff we might run into." 

Andrew crossed his arms smugly, the butt of his gun peeking out again beneath his jacket. Josh was right about the mail, even though he tried to hide some of the worst ones from me. As much as we got a lot of letters and mail from people who said they supported us, we also got a lot of mail from people telling us what we were doing was wrong and unnatural. They might have been nothing, but you never knew what people might do, and I wasn't in a big hurry to get kidnapped again, or worse. 

"Andrew, we want to be safe, but not smothered," Josh continued, turning to him. "That's why you're flying back in coach. We need protection, but we also need space. And for future reference, we don't talk about what happened to Jack, not like that, and not with strangers." 

"I'm sorry," Andrew said to me, holding out his hand. "I'm just, you know, trying to do my job." 

"It's ok," I said, taking his hand. His grip was so firm I thought he might be deliberately trying to snap the bones in my fingers, but I kept smiling as if I was completely comfortable. He was a big guy, and maybe he couldn't help having a viselike handshake. 

"Clearly we all need a little time to get used to each other," Josh said, smiling as we shook hands. I was still trying to decide how I felt about Andrew, but Josh seemed ok with him, and I trusted his judgment of character. "Why don't we just chalk this up as, you know, getting off on the wrong foot a little, and go in and get ready to catch our plane." 

"OK," I said, taking his hand. 

"Sure," Andrew said, shrugging. 

The three of us walked over to the cart piled high with our luggage, and the skycap followed us inside with it. Josh and I were just kind of meandering along, and Andrew was scanning the airport lobby, his eyes swinging side to side. He seemed good at his job, although I kept comparing him in my head to Hank and Dom. I didn't know Dom as well as I did Hank, but I considered both of them friends, and would rather have had either of them on the trip with us than some complete stranger. Hank hadn't even mentioned the part on the soap when I saw him at the wedding yesterday, and I made a mental note to send him a card. 

"So, Andrew, where are you from?" I asked, my arm linked through Josh's as Josh picked through his bag for our tickets. 

"I've been living in Los Angeles for about six years," he answered, making eye contact with me for a second before going back to his continuous scanning of the area around us. 

"How about before you moved to LA?" I asked, remembering how everyone in Los Angeles joked that no one was actually from the city. 

"Seattle," he answered. He definitely wasn't chatty, but maybe he was just shy. After all, how could he not want to talk to me? Everyone loved talking to me. Maybe he just wasn't comfortable yet. 

"What brought you to LA?" I asked, watching as he pulled a leather packet out of his jacket. I assumed it was his pistol paperwork, which we would need to get through customs. 

"I was in a band," he answered, smiling finally. "You know. Grunge rock, garage band, the whole thing. We were sure we were gonna be the next big thing, and I just got into the bodyguard thing to, you know, pay the bills." 

"What happened with the band?" Josh asked, half listening. I knew if they were any good that Josh would help them get a break. He'd probably try to get them signed on with Lance's company, or invite them to go on the next tour, like he had his friend Tony. 

"We broke up about a month after we got there," Andrew said, shrugging again. "It's just as well, since, you know, grunge rock was on the way out by then anyway. But I already had this job, and I had a lease on a good apartment, so I kind of stuck around." 

"Do you still play?" I asked. Somewhere in our luggage Josh had a small electronic keyboard packed, but I didn't know if all musicians carried something around with them. 

"Not with a group or anything," he answered. "I don't always have time now, anyway, but I might get back into it someday. As it is, I mainly just play when I'm alone, trying to relax." 

"I know what that's like," Josh said, smiling. "What's your instrument?" 

"Bass guitar," he answered. "Come on. Let's go get these bags checked in." 

We checked all of our bags in, and then headed through the security checkpoints. As we had expected, it was a little bit of a chore getting Andrew through, but all of his paperwork was in order, and eventually they let him pass. The process attracted a lot of attention, though, and as soon as we were past the metal detectors Andrew sent Josh and I straight to the first class lounge, away from all of the people now staring. His manner was a little brusque, but I was starting to think that might just be the way he was. He seemed pretty friendly to Josh and I, but glared suspiciously at every person that walked near us as we approached the lounge. As we stepped in, Andrew pointed out the bench where he'd be waiting when our flight was called. 

"See, he's not so bad," Josh said, resting sleepily against me as we sat in the lounge. 

After the hustle and the stress of the past couple of days I wasn't surprised that all he wanted to do was sleep. I read quietly as Josh leaned against me, asleep within minutes, despite the fact that he'd had plenty of sleep the night before. The guys called him Mr. Sleepy on tour, because it was practically all he did when they had a free moment, and sometimes he lapsed back into it when we were together. It was kind of a reflex gesture with him, almost. If we weren't actively doing something, Josh nodded, half awake, and I'd just gotten used to it. His head rested on my shoulder, his soft hair brushing against my cheek. One of his hands was draped across my chest, resting on my shoulder, and he nuzzled against me, murmuring. 

"I love you, Josh," I whispered, oblivious to the glances from the other first class passengers. The lounge was big enough that they could move away from us and sit elsewhere if they couldn't deal. 

"Love you, too," he slurred sleepily. 

When they called our flight I roused him and packed up my book, and we rejoined Andrew, following him to our gate. 

"I'll see you guys when we land," he said, smiling. "Remember, don't wander off to get your bags or go to the bathroom or anything until I'm off the plane, ok?" 

"OK," I said, as Josh and I both nodded. I still felt a little smothered, but if the two of them felt it was necessary, then going along with it seemed like the least I could do, especially if it meant I wouldn't be spending any more time locked in anyone's basement, or worse. After we got settled in on the plane, our fingers linked through the takeoff, Josh pulled the little blanket down and arranged it over himself. "You're not actually planning to sleep the entire way, are you?" 

"Did you have something else in mind?" Josh asked, laying his head on my shoulder. "I have the chess set in my bag if you want to do that." 

"No, that wasn't quite what I was thinking," I sighed, smiling. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. 

"What were you thinking?" Josh asked, nuzzling under my chin. He nipped at my neck, worrying his mouth over that giant hickey he'd left last night. I felt a little shiver run through me. 

"Well," I began, sliding my hand under his blanket. I rested it on his thigh. "I was thinking about what you said this morning." 

"I said a lot of stuff this morning," he chuckled, still leaving a little wet trail on my neck. I slid my hand up his thigh, drifting closer to his basket. 

"Yeah, but only part of it was about the mile high club," I whispered, dropping my hand over his crotch. I could feel his cock through the thin fabric of his pants, and immediately began to massage it. Josh stiffened against me, his head jerking up in surprise. 

"Jack, what are you, unh, what are you doing?" Josh asked, his brilliant blue eyes wide. I kept squeezing him, feeling his cock throb and press itself against my hand. 

"What does it feel like?" I asked, unzipping his fly. I slid my fingers inside, and then maneuvered them through the flap in his boxer briefs. I wrapped my fingers around the hard, hot tube of his shaft and he gasped against me, glancing down at the blanket. "I'm giving you a handjob, silly." 

"Oh, God, Jack," he whispered as I rolled my palm over the head of his cock. "Stop. We'll get caught." 

"Only if you keep making so much noise," I said, moving my hand a little faster now. His cock was hard, like stone, but covered in soft, smooth skin, and I felt it throbbing in time to his heartbeat. His breathing was picking up, better whether it was from being turned on or from being nervous I couldn't tell. 

"No, I'm serious," he whispered, although I noticed he wasn't really doing a lot to stop me. 

"Me too," I said, smiling. I leaned in, close to his ear, which I began to lick. "I love you, Josh. I love feeling how hard you are, and touching your cock. I love holding it in my hands, and feeling it throb, and thinking about you putting it inside me." 

Josh was a sucker for dirty talk, I knew, although his idea of it was a little tame. 

"Jack," he whined, sweat breaking out on his forehead. My hand was moving faster now, sliding up and down him. "Jack, oh, God." 

"I love running my hands up and down your cock, and your body," I whispered, chewing at his ear now. His breath against my neck was coming hard and fast, urgent little pants. "I love touching you, and feeling your skin, and feeling all those muscles. I love putting my hands on you, and my mouth. Do you want me to put my mouth on it, Josh?" 

"Unh, Jack," he whined, his hips moving a little now. His hands were gripping his armrests, his knuckles white. 

"You're so fucking hot, Josh, and I'm so hard right now," I whispered, chewing on his earlobe now. He was trying to keep quiet, stifling his moans and whines, burying his mouth against my neck. "I'll ask again, Josh. Do you want me to put my mouth on it? Do you want me to lean down, right now, and stick my head under the blanket? Do you want me to slide my tongue down it, and suck you off, Josh? Do you want me to swallow your hot cum, right here, right now?" 

Josh looked up at me, his mouth hanging open, sweat standing on his forehead, and I leaned forward, catching his bottom lip between my teeth. 

"Jack!" he breathed, and then his body tensed in the seat. I felt hot wetness flood over my fingers as he gasped. I pulled my hand carefully out of his pants and licked my fingers clean, smiling at him. 

"Can I get you gentlemen anything?" the flight attendant asked, leaning over suddenly. "Are you ok, sir?" 

"He's a bad flyer," I answered, letting Josh catch his breath as he stared at her in wide eyed panic. The blanket was still in place in his lap. "Could we have some water?" 

"Sure," she answered, leaning over us. She flicked the air thing open above Josh. "Let's just get some air on you, and you'll be fine." 

"Thanks," I said for Josh, watching him nod. "I don't know why I didn't think of that." 

"No problem," she said, handing me two cups. "Just buzz if you need anything, ok?" 

"Thanks," Josh panted finally. He turned to me. 

"I love you," I sighed, sipping my water. 

"When we land, we're going straight to the hotel," Josh whispered, kissing the sensitive spot right behind my ear. "And we're not leaving until the morning." 

I settled back against him, sighing contentedly. That was just fine with me. 

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CHAPTER 97

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JACK'S POV: 

We waited dutifully for Andrew to leave the plane, the two of us holding hands off to the side of the gate, staying out of the way and trying to look inconspicuous in our hats. Josh had put the red sunglasses he'd picked out for me back on, and I wondered if I should talk to him about whether or not we could be unnoticeable in t-shirts with rhinestones all over the front. After a long stream of people, Andrew finally appeared, and went with us to the baggage claim, again finding a helpful staff person with a luggage cart. After we loaded on our bags, Andrew's tiny suitcase mixed in and looking almost like an afterthought since it was the only bag there, other than our carryons, that didn't have big obnoxious Gucci symbols all over it. 

"You're such a label queen," I said, giggling, as Josh handed the porter our last bag. 

"Don't pretend you don't love me for it, K-Mart," Josh said, pressing a tip into the guy's hand. He looked from me to Andrew. "Did either of you happen to notice which way the car rental counters are?" 

"They're down that way," the porter said, pointing in a direction opposite either of the ones Andrew and I pointed at. Josh handed him another tip, and he gleefully followed us, doubtlessly anticipating a third handout for helping load the bags into the car. When we finally stood in the parking garage in front of the giant SUV Josh had rented, all I could do was shake my head. 

"We needed this why?" I asked, wondering if I'd need help to get into it. It was enormous, and black, like one of those things the bad scientists chased the tornadoes with in "Twister". 

"Mostly for our luggage," Josh said, watching the porter load everything into the opened back. "It was either this or a minivan, and I think this is kind of sexy." 

"Boys and their toys," I sighed, shaking my head as Andrew snickered. Finally a crack in his stone face. When it was time for us to go, I watched as Josh and Andrew argued over who got to drive. I knew that Josh wanted to, having rented this for the sole purpose of driving something huge and manly, but Andrew also had a valid point. 

"With all due respect, JC, I'm trained as a driver as well," Andrew said, holding out his hands for the keys. "I know the odds are slim that someone starts chasing us, or rams the car, but really, I'd feel better if I was driving." 

"But we didn't hire you so you could drive us everywhere," Josh said, almost whining. "If we wanted that I would have just hired us limos. And I kind of wanted to drive one of these. I was thinking of buying one for us." 

That was the first I'd heard of this. I knew we needed another car, since I couldn't drive the Jag or the Viper, but hell might freeze before I let Josh plant one of these in the garage. I was thinking something small and cute, like a Jetta or a Beetle, not a giant gas sucking Canyonero, or whatever one of these was called. 

"Come on, Josh," I said, taking the keys out of his hand. "Let Andrew drive, and you can sit in the back with me. I'm sure you'll get to drive it later, ok?" 

"You don't mind if we both sit in the back?" Josh asked Andrew. 

"No, not at all," Andrew answered, smiling as he took the keys from me. "Let me just take you to the hotel now, Miss Daisy." 

I snickered as Josh, crestfallen, watched Andrew climb into the front seat. Behind Josh's furrowed brows, though, I could see the wheels turning already, and I wasn't surprised when he leaned over before we were even out of the parking garage. One of the good things about the car being so massive was that we could whisper and Andrew wouldn't hear a word. He glanced at us in the mirror a few times, and I wondered if he could read lips. Later on, when we knew him better, I would probably laugh about these impressions, but right now he was just such a mystery, and my mind couldn't leave it alone, filling in all sorts of secret agent type details. 

"Tomorrow I'm going to make him follow us in another car," Josh whispered, and I chuckled softly, nestling against him. It was getting dark out, and we'd had a long, long day. "I didn't really plan anything for tonight, because I thought we'd both be tired. Are you ok with room service?" 

"Whatever you want is fine, Josh," I said, hugging him tightly. 

At the hotel we had yet another person dragging bags up to our room, and then waited patiently while Andrew checked our suite, as if he thought there might be terrorists or assassins hiding in the closets. Josh told him he was off for the night and sent him to his room, promising we wouldn't leave the suite, and then began rummaging around in his carryon bag, putting something in his pockets. I picked up the room service menu, scanning it. It was several pages long, and I had no idea what I felt like. 

"Josh, what do you want for dinner?" I asked, standing near the phone and kicking off my shoes. 

"You," he growled from behind me, knocking the menu aside as he grabbed my arms and pushed me up against the wall, pressing against me. 

"Josh!" I blurted, surprised, as he raised my arms, pinning them to the wall above my head. He ground himself against me, licking and sucking at the back of my neck. 

"I want you so bad," Josh growled, his hands sliding down my arms to clutch and pull at my chest. I pressed back against him, feeling his hard cock drilling against my ass crack, muffled by our clothes. "It's all I've been able to think about." 

"Oh, God, Josh," I groaned, leaning against him, feeling his body shift as he pushed me against the fabric covered walls of our suite. His arms were strong, sliding over me, his palms and fingers splayed hungrily against my torso. 

"You are so fucking hot, baby," he groaned wetly against my neck. 

I kept my hands up on the wall, dancing back against him as I felt his hands grab the bottom of my shirt. He tugged it up over my head and threw it to the side, and returned his hands to my chest, kneading my pecs, running his fingers up and down my abs. I tossed my head from side to side as he mouthed the back and sides of my neck, leaning down to lick wetly at my shoulders, scraping his teeth over me. His fingers found my nipples, both at once, and began to pinch and twist at them as the rhinestones on the front of his t-shirt scraped against my back. I yelped, feeling them scratch a little, and then his hands were gone for a second as he tugged his own shirt off and also tossed it away. As he rolled the tips of my nipples between his fingers again I felt his hot, hard chest pressing against my back, his pecs dancing as his arms shifted. 

Josh's hands dropped down my chest, pressing as they slid over my muscles, carefully rebuilt through sessions almost daily with the same trainer they used. Josh's tanned fingers crawled onto the front of my cargo pants and grabbed my hard cock and balls, squeezing and groping them through the fabric. I groaned again, my hips jerking back against him, and I felt his throbbing cock pressing into me again, sliding up and down the crack of my ass. Josh purred against my neck, squeezing my cock again, the pressure of his hands and the soft velvet feel of his body against mine driving me insane. I wanted him as badly as he wanted me, both of us throwing ourselves against each other with an aching, consuming need. Both of us were sighing and moaning, and Josh was leaving my shoulders and neck wet with his spit. Throwing me up against the wall and just ravaging me was pretty different for Josh, but it was pretty hot. 

Josh dropped to his knees behind me as his hands practically tore open my belt and pants. He jerked them down, along with my boxers, and then I felt his tongue just above the small of my back. I sighed with pleasure as he stood, dragging his tongue up the curve of my spine before he fastened his mouth wetly onto one of my traps. He grabbed my arms again and pinned them above my head to the wall with one hand, holding them there as his other hand snaked around behind me, and he continued grinding his cock against my bare ass. 

"Hold these," he whispered, pressing a condom and a small tube of lubricant into my upraised hands. He kept his other hand around my wrists, and his free one drifted down to my cock. He stroked it a few times, my hips pressing back against him again as I moaned, and then he gave my head a long, hard squeeze. "You're so hard, baby. Is that for me?" 

"Yes," I whimpered. "Please, Josh, please." 

"Please what?" he asked, and I could hear the smile. His free hand left my cock, stopping to tug once at my balls, and then it vanished behind me as he began chewing at my ear. 

"Please fuck me," I begged. One of his feet tapped my ankle, kicking my legs wider apart, and then I heard his pants hitting the floor. 

Josh's hand wrapped around my cock again, sliding up and down it. He squeezed firmly, keeping his fingers in a tight ring around it, and rolled his hand over my sticky, slowly dripping head. Each time he touched it, running a finger around the ridge where it met my shaft or rolling his palm over the top, I whimpered, and pressed myself against him. At the same time, he was rocking his hips against me, and I felt his hard cock dancing up and down my crack, throbbing against me. He was leaking a little as well, leaving a sticky trail up and down my ass, and I felt him pressing insistently against my hole as he continued to nip and suck at my neck. He groaned again as he rubbed his cock up and down my crack, and then he reached up and took the condom and the lube from my fingers. 

I gasped as I felt the cold lubricant against my ass, his fingers pressing against my hole. I yelped as he pushed one inside, and then he pushed in a second finger. I felt them probing inside me and sighed, wincing a little as he jabbed a third finger into me, stretching me as he lubed me up. I pressed back against him, moaning tightly as I gripped his fingers, beads of sweat glistening on my forehead as I kept my hands pressed up against the wall. Josh's other hand dropped from my wrists down to my cock, jerking it roughly, distracting me. I braced myself, hands flat, as I felt Josh shifting behind me, his fingers leaving me, and then I felt the firm pressure of his cock against my hole. Before I could do anything he slammed forward, driving all the way inside me in one stroke, and I gasped, letting out a sharp cry. 

My head fell backward, lolling onto Josh's shoulder, as I tried to catch my breath, and his hands slid up my chest, holding me against him. Even as I felt myself starting to adjust, I felt Josh's thighs flexing against mine as he began to slam into me, hard and fast. He jabbed inside of me, filling me, stabbing at my prostate, and each push sent a wave of pleasure washing through me. His hand slid up my chest, covering my neck, and turned my head roughly toward his. As I yelped in time to his thrusts he jammed his tongue into my mouth, sealing his lips over mine. His other hand was on my hip, his fingers digging in as he held me in place. 

I felt Josh's chest pressing against my back, his abs sliding over me, his pecs grinding against my shoulders. His nipples, hard points, rubbed over the wings of my shoulder blades, both of us slick with sweat now. Josh's chest vibrated against my back as he groaned in time with his thrusts, each inward stab sending a yelping sigh out of me. Josh kept his hand on my neck, forcing my head back onto his shoulder as he gnawed wetly at the other side, his teeth scraping and worrying over that damn hickey that was never going to heal and which he seemed unable to leave alone. The cords in my neck tightened each time Josh drove his pelvis against mine, and my whole body strained against him. His thighs slammed into mine each time, flexing, as his sinewy dancer's body drove me against the wall, only my outstretched arms keeping me from slamming against it. His hand drifted up from where he had gripped my hips, leaving behind a white print on my tanned skin, and wrapped around my waist. 

"Turn," he purred, pulling me by the neck and waist. 

My body hung against him as he walked me across the room, his cock buried to the hilt inside me. I felt impaled by him, speared, and I hung on him as I let him lead me, thrusting the entire way, across the room to the couch. My knees hit the side, and Josh pushed me forward, draping me over the arm of the couch. I pressed my hands against the cushions, my arms flexing as I began to throw myself backward in time with Josh's thrusts. He gripped my shoulders with both hands, driving himself into me, both of us yelping and sighing and straining. I gripped his cock tightly, squeezing my ass around it, trying my best to clench in time to his thrusts, and I felt his balls slapping against mine. 

"Harder, Josh!" I grunted, tossing my head back, trying to get my sweaty bangs out of my eyes. 

"I'm so close," he groaned, his voice high and tight, but still somehow husky. His breath was hot against my neck, and his tongue swiped across my skin, licking me as he went back to chewing my ear again. 

"Me, too," I whined, straining. Every thrust stabbed against my prostate, sending wave after wave of intense pleasure surging through me. 

One of Josh's hands dropped from my shoulder to reach around under me and wrap around my cock again. He began to jerk me off, roughly, in time to his rapidly increasing thrusts, and the couch groaned and squeaked beneath us as he continued pounding into me. Josh's body was hard and taut above me, his muscles locking, and my own was straining beneath him, sweat running off of both of us in rivers. I yelped each time he slammed forward, my teeth gritted as I panted between them, and Josh's own pants began to rise, turning into high squeaks. I knew those sounds well, and wasn't surprised when he began to slam forward even faster, his hips pistoning like a jackrabbit's. He went rigid above me, letting out a high, wordless scream, and I felt his hips jerk as he shot into me. At the same time his hand squeezed convulsively around my cock, and I let out a sharp yelp of my own as I began to shoot across the couch cushion. 

Josh collapsed on top of me, but I kept my arms locked, not wanting to land in the mess I'd just made, knowing I'd be able to hold us up until Josh recovered in a second or two. He panted against me, and then lifting himself up, sliding carefully off of and out of me. Josh kissed the back of my neck and walked quickly into the bathroom, grabbing some toilet paper to take care of the condom. I followed him in and reached around him to turn on the shower, feeling sticky and slimy. Josh climbed in with me, facing me, and rested his arms on my shoulders as he crossed his hands behind my neck. I stared warmly into his soft blue eyes, watching them grow as he leaned in toward me. Josh's mouth settled down softly over mine as the water cascaded down over me. 

"That was hot, babe," I sighed, my hands roaming up and down his sides. I dropped them down onto the hard curves of his ass and cupped them as he continued to kiss me. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," Josh sighed, reaching for the little bottle of hotel shampoo. Ours, like everything else, was still packed. "Why don't we rinse off, and then call for some dinner?" 

"Works for me," I said, lathering up his hair. 

I loved to wash Josh's hair, but had to be careful, because it tangled easily. We always enjoyed washing each other, and frequently the shower was one of our few quiet times of the day together. When all the other guys were around, or Josh was working, we had trouble fitting in time that was just for us, not for sex, but just for togetherness. Now we had an entire honeymoon together, but we still fell back on our old habits, washing each other's backs, carefully massaging each other's scalps with shampoo. When we finished we toweled each other off, laughing and touching each other playfully, and I grinned as Josh's eyes peered out at me from beneath the towel I was drying his hair with. We pulled on the plush robes the hotel provided, and I flipped through the movie schedule as Josh called room service and ordered us a fruit and cheese platter and a bottle of wine for dinner. 

We had a nice quiet evening together lounging on the couch, after we turned over the sticky cushion. We kept the robes on, laying against each other as we watched a movie, slowly feeding each other pieces of cheese and fruit, sipping our wine. Josh shut off all the lights in the suite, and we nuzzled against each other in the soft bluish glow of the television. Eventually Josh started to fall asleep, and when the movie was over we went in to bed, dropping the robes on the carpet and spooning skin to skin against each other in the bed. We murmured to each other softly, telling each other good night. 

"Love you," Josh mumbled, almost completely asleep against my back. 

"I love you, too," I whispered, letting myself drift off. 

When I woke up I was alone in the bed, all twisted up in the sheets. I sat up, looking around, and Josh walked into the bedroom, carrying a tray. He was fully dressed, his hair a little wet, and looking casual in a polo shirt and khaki pants. When he smiled at me over the tray as I pulled myself up I noticed that his face looked different below his sparkling blue eyes. 

"Good morning!" he chirped brightly. I tried to figure out when Josh had become a morning person. 

"You shaved off your beard!" I blurted, finally putting it together. 

"You don't like it?" Josh asked, leaning down to set the tray over my legs. "Breakfast in bed." 

"I've never seen you without it," I said, tilting my head to the side. "But I like it." 

"I cut it off for the Celebrity tour," Josh said, shrugging. He leaned in closer and I ran my hand over his bare chin as he smiled and nuzzled against my palm. He kissed my fingertips. 

"Yeah, but I wasn't around then," I said. I'd first met Josh on the Pop Odyssey, and he hadn't come to visit me that first time until after the Celebrity tour was over. "You grew it back before you came to see me." 

"Actually, um, I grew it because I was coming to see you," Josh said, blushing. "I wanted to be exactly like I'd been when you and I met, so I grew it back in before I flew out to see you." 

"That's one of the sweetest things I've ever heard," I said, feeling my eyes water. I don't know why I was so touched, but it struck me again how scared and unsure Josh must have been when he flew out to see me that time, and how well he had covered it. "Where are you going?" 

"To get my tray," he said, walking out of the room. "I'm hungry, too." 

Josh carried his own tray back into the room and climbed up on to the bed beside me, shoes and all. I looked down at the trays and saw that it was my favorite breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup and bacon on the side cooked so crispy as to be almost black. I felt extremely spoiled. 

"I've never eaten naked breakfast in bed before," I said, the sheet pulled demurely up to my waist. 

"Then we'll have to do this more often," Josh said, leaning over to kiss me. "Nothing but the best for you. Now eat up. We have a fun day ahead." 

"What are we doing?" I asked, eagerly curious. 

"It's a surprise," he answered, smiling. "Now drink your coffee and dig into that breakfast." 

After eating and showering, I walked back into the bedroom of the suite to find clothes neatly laid out for me on the bed. Josh was in the front room, sitting on the couch, writing in his notebook. Josh and I called them notebooks, but really they were large sized blank books, and he did everything in them: sketching, songwriting, notes to himself, to do lists. He saved all of them on a shelf at the house, but I hadn't looked at any of the old ones. I knew that there were things from the time I was gone that dealt with Josh and Justin, and I didn't want to see that. Besides, those were Josh's private thoughts, and I respected that too much to just flip through them. He smiled when I went past in my towel, and I scanned the clothes on the bed, but they offered no clues. Like yesterday's outfit, this was just a variation on Josh's, a different colored polo, but everything else was the same. I giggled at realizing that he had actually picked boxers that matched the outfit. 

"Ready?" he asked, when I dressed and walked out of the bedroom. 

"I guess," I answered. "Do I need anything?" 

"I packed you a bag while you were in the shower," Josh said, handing me my backpack. Inside I found my book, sunglasses, phone, camera, and a tube of sunblock, but still no clues. Josh added his notebook and two folded windbreakers. "Let's go." 

We walked next door to Andrew's suite, where he was apparently waiting for our knock, as he pulled the door open as soon as Josh's hand touched it. He was a little more casually dressed today, and I wondered if Josh had talked to him. Josh handed him the valet ticket, and the three of us went down to the lobby and picked up the SUV. I sat in the back at their direction, and the three of us chatted a little as Andrew drove us to our unknown destination. He and Josh mostly talked football the whole way, Josh being a big Redskins fan while Andrew was partial to the 49ers, and I didn't have much to add, being more into hockey when I watched any sports at all. Eventually we reached the coast, and finally came to a marina. Andrew parked the car and walked into the boathouse with us as I carried my bag and Josh carried a wicker picnic hamper that had been in the back of the car. 

"I'll pick you guys up at five?" Andrew confirmed. 

"Yup, five, and how you're dressed now is fine," Josh said. I was staring at both of them, feeling a little annoyed at being out of the loop, and Josh finally threw me a bone as Andrew smiled and began walking back to the car. "We're going out for crab at one of my favorite restaurants. You'll love it." 

"What are we doing before that?" I asked, impatient. "I mean, clearly we're going on a boat, or we wouldn't be at the marina. Please tell me?" 

"I'm taking you out onto the ocean," Josh answered, smiling. "Come on." 

The guy working at the desk walked us out and down the docks, chatting with Josh about the water and the conditions today before we came to a stop at a small sailboat. 

"She's all set, and yours for the day," the guy said, grinning as Josh pressed a tip into his hand. I'd long since gotten used to the way Josh felt the need to grease everyone's palm. "Enjoy yourselves." 

"There's no crew?" I asked Josh as the desk guy walked away. 

"Jack, it's a small boat," Josh answered. "We don't need a crew. I'm going to take you sailing." 

I followed Josh into the boat, sliding my sunglasses on and sitting where he told me as he untied the lines. I wanted to help, but didn't know what I was doing. It was obvious, though, that Josh had a lot of experience with this. I sat back and enjoyed the sun as Josh steered us out onto the water, taking us some distance from the shore before fixing the sail and coming to sit by me. I followed his lead and carefully coated my nose and forehead with sunblock. 

"Isn't this great?" Josh asked, throwing an arm around my shoulders. 

"It's so beautiful out here, " I said, looking around at the bright blue water. The sky was clear, and there was a nice wind, although the waves weren't too bad. "I didn't know you could do this." 

"I love to sail," Josh said. "It's so peaceful, and when you take a small boat, it's just you and the water. I've been doing this since I was little. I have more skills than just singing and dancing, you know." 

"Of course I know, silly. I've never been on a sailboat before," I confessed, leaning against him. I watched the hairs on his forearm catch the sun, glittering golden brown against his tan. My own tan was rather impressive, as well, but Josh's natural color was brown to begin with, where mine was chalk white. "I've been on a lot of yachts, some speedboats, and a few pontoon party barges, but I've never been on one of these. It's different. I'm used to the engine vibrating, and the noise, but you're right. This is really peaceful." 

"Come on over to the wheel with me," Josh said, taking my hand. "I'll teach you a little bit about how to do this." 

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I don't want to sink us." 

"Jack, we're in deep enough water," Josh said, laughing. "Only you'd think of that. If you're really that worried, here. Put on a life vest." 

Josh snickered, but I put it on anyway, and then insisted that he wear his, too. Josh tried very hard to teach me how to maneuver the boat, but none of it really made a lot of sense to me, and all this babbling about trim and keel and whatnot was as baffling to me as mandarin Chinese. Josh was very patient, but eventually he just gave up, along with me. After resetting our course, he fixed the sail again, and put the radio on as we leaned back on the bench at the rear of the boat, holding on to each other and drinking in the sun. I pulled out the camera and took a few pictures, wanting to hold this moment, and after a while Josh opened the picnic basket. Inside there were a lot of different sandwich halves, neatly wrapped, along with carrot and celery sticks, a little thing of dip for them, some cookies, and several bottled lemonades in various flavors. 

We ate quietly, feeding each other little bites of our sandwiches like we had at dinner last night with the platter. I wondered where Josh had gotten this basket put together, as the sandwiches were exquisite little things with exotic fillings, like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine or something. The two of us didn't really need to talk much, just enjoying the togetherness and the easy companionship, and Josh and I neatly tucked the wrappers and empty bottles back into the basket, keeping everything neat and clean. It wasn't our boat, after all. When we were done eating, Josh sat down beside me and took my hands, a serious look crossing his face. 

"Jack, I need to talk to you about something," he began, swallowing. "I told the guys I would, and I guess now is as good a time as any." 

"What is it, Josh?" I asked, squeezing his hands. "Is it about the trip?" 

"No, it's about the new tour, " Josh answered, surprising me. "I need to talk to you about it, because I want to make sure you understand what I want to do." 

"Josh, I'm not quite part of the band," I said, confused. "Why do you need to ask me what you guys are doing?" 

"Because it's about you," Josh said. "Well, sort of. We want to do something a little different on this tour. We're doing a bunch of the old songs, and some of the new songs, too, but we also want to highlight ourselves as individuals a little, you know? Give everybody in the audience a chance to see each of us alone. I mean, the last tour was kind of like Justin and the Nsync's, like Diana Ross, and he feels bad about that now, and wants to let everyone else shine a little, too." 

"I'm following so far," I said, nodding. The Celebrity tour really had been like the Justin Timberlake show, although Josh got a fair amount of time, too. 

"So in between some of the songs, we're going to each sing one by ourselves," Josh said, squeezing my hand. "Justin's going to do 'Gone', since that's kind of his, and Joey's gonna sing 'Ready to Fall'. Chris and Lance are still deciding what they're going to do, but I wanted to ask you about mine, because I wanted to do 'Incomplete'." 

"Oh," I said, surprised. 

When I had been kidnapped, and Josh thought I left him, he had started writing a letter to me, to try to work out the way he felt. Over time, while he was with Justin, the letter had become more of a song, and finally he put music to it. It was utterly unlike any of their other songs, just Josh's voice and one piano, and it was a haunting mix of loneliness and loss, somehow blended with the hope that his love would return to him. Josh had explained to me how he had written it, trying to write out some of his pain, and how he had changed the title from "Dear Jack" to "Incomplete" once he decided it was actually something he wanted to share with the others. The guys, on hearing it, had decided unanimously to include it on the new album, although there had been a lot of discussion when I resurfaced about whether or not to keep it there, because they were afraid it would hurt me. In the end, I had been the deciding vote. It did hurt me a little to hear it, but at the same time, it was a love song for me. It told me how much I meant to Josh, and how much he needed me, and the song was too beautiful not to share with everyone else. 

"Jack, I don't want to do it if it's going to hurt you," Josh said. "I know it's on the album, but we're not dropping it as a single, because I don't want to cut the other guys out like that, and I don't want to do a video for it, because it hurts me, too, sometimes." 

"Josh, are you sure you want to sing that every night of the tour?" I asked, concerned. It would be like ripping open his scabs every time he got up on stage. 

"I thought about it," he said, nodding. "But it's the same thing you said the first time you heard it. For me, that's a song about how much I love you, and I want other people to hear that. All the people who say it's just about sex, and that you and I don't really love each other, this is the chance to show them something else." 

"Josh, you don't have to prove anything to the world," I said. 

"I know," he answered. "But I also want to tell the world how much I love you." 

"Then do it, Josh," I said, kissing him. "Go ahead and do the song on the tour." 

"Are you sure?" he asked, holding me. 

"As much as you are," I answered, laying my head on his chest. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," he answered. 

We sat like that for a while, just drifting with the boat, holding each other. Eventually Josh sat up, carefully sliding out from under me. 

"It's time to go back in," he said, smiling. "We have to meet Andrew for dinner, and then I have to take you home and ravage you again." 

"I'm up for that," I said, grinning. 

---

CHAPTER 98

---

JACK'S POV: 

Our dinner out with Andrew was great, especially after the nice, relaxing day Josh and I had enjoyed on the sailboat. The restaurant was right on the shore, with a back deck that extended out onto the water. Josh, Andrew, and I ate at a picnic table, covered in a bright gingham tablecloth with a few candles in a bucket in the middle. Party lights were strung around the outside edge of the deck, and a small jazz quartet played exuberantly well into the night. The waitress offered us beer, but none of us were in the mood. Josh and Andrew devoured a steady stream of crabs, building up a pile of shells on either side of them. I was vaguely disgusted by this, and ordered crab cakes instead, but the two of them had a great time. 

When we'd finally eaten our fill, stuffing in crab and greens and then cobbler, and had enough of listening to the band, cheering and clapping along with everyone else, the three of us decided to call it a night and head back to the hotel. Andrew seemed a little more at ease with us, and had even gotten into a minor argument with Josh about paying for his own dinner before I told him that it would be a waste of time, and he might as well just take the crab dinner with a smile. Josh's version of hospitality included treating Andrew like a guest while he traveled with us, and I could see it was a little difficult for Andrew to get used to it. My respect for him went up greatly. It would have been a lot easier for him to just take Josh's money, and I knew that Josh would also value the friendship of someone who wasn't out to freeload off of him. 

As promised, Josh brought me home and ravaged me, although it was a lot slower and more gentle than he had been the previous night. I wasn't sure what had gotten into him the night before, but his rough, animal lust had been extremely hot for us both. Still, it was nice to have him back to his usual slow, tender ways, and he sucked me off before making love to me for what seemed like hours as we lay tangled in the sheets. I knew it couldn't really be that long, but I lay against him in the afterglow, my head on his chest, both of us glistening with sweat, and thought about how happy I was. 

"Josh?" I whispered, not sure if he was still up. His breathing was so level as his chest rose and fell beneath my face that I couldn't tell for sure. 

"Yeah?" he asked, running his fingers through my hair, softly caressing the top of my head. 

"Thank you for today," I said. "Thanks for the boat ride, and the dinner, and for loving me so much." 

"Thank you, Jack," Josh answered. "Thanks for being here for me to love, and for making me the happiest guy on earth." 

"You're welcome," I sighed, feeling his heart beat slowly thumping beneath my cheek. 

"And thanks for having such a tight ass, too," he said quietly, so smoothly that I almost thought I'd imagined it. 

"I knew it was just about the sex," I said, glancing up to stare into his bright blue eyes. They sparkled in the dark room, catching the little light there. "I love you, Josh." 

"I love you, too," he said, caressing my head and my bare shoulder. "Now go to sleep." 

I woke up before Josh the next morning and rolled over to see his eyes closed. His hair was a tousled mess on the pillow, the brown looking gold as the sun streaked through it, and his eyes danced behind his eyelids as his mouth hung open a little. He was laying on his side, facing me, and there was a little string of drool hanging onto his pillow. The sheet was down to just below his shoulders, the tanned round tops of them gleaming in the sunlight. The curves of his chest peeked above the sheet just a little, and as I rolled onto my side to watch him sleep he let out a little whimpering noise and reached for me a little. I slid my hand over and grasped his hand, twining my fingers through his, and his eyes blinked open. 

"Hey," he said, smiling. I reached over and slid my finger over his lip, scooping up the drool, and then brought it to my own mouth, smiling. "Oh, that's cute, Jack." 

"Thanks," I said, grinning. "I try." 

Josh's arm flexed as he tugged at my hand, pulling me across the bed. Willingly I slid over, feeling his other arm slide around me as I slid my free hand up his chest. Our linked hands were trapped in between us, pressed against our chests. Josh's chest was smooth and velvety, covered in tiny, almost invisible brown hairs, and I rubbed my knuckles against it, feeling his heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of his breathing. When I was close, right against him, he brushed his lips over mine, our mouths touching with a couple of soft kissing sounds. His eyes drifted closed, and mine did as well as I lost myself in him for a second, feeling his lips massage my own as his hand slid up and down my back, softly caressing my shoulders. As he shifted again, pulling me in closer, I felt his cock prodding at my hip, and giggled. 

"What?" he asked, smiling. 

"It's just good to see that all of you is wide awake," I said, nuzzling his cheek with my own as I glanced down. 

"Like it's just me," he laughed, yanking the sheet down to expose both of us, with our hard cocks trapped between our entwined bodies. "Come on. Let's hit the shower." 

"Wait a minute," I said, clutching him tightly as he tried to slide out of the bed. "I'm hard, you're hard, and we're in bed. Why, exactly, aren't we having sex?" 

"Because we have places to go today," he said, carefully extricating himself from my grip. "Besides, we can have sex in the shower." 

And we did, and, as always, it was good. When we were done Josh went to lay out our clothes as I shaved and combed my hair, and I walked into the bedroom to find shorts and t-shirts laid out with everything else. Again Josh had picked us out similar, variations on a theme sort of outfits, with matching khaki shorts and printed t-shirts. Mine was bright yellow, with a red dragon sort of design, and Josh's was bright red with the same design in yellow. I wondered if he was going to do this for the entire honeymoon. Josh and I got dressed and then met Andrew in the lobby. He was dressed a little more casually today, too, although the bulge of his pistol was still visible beneath his untucked shirt. 

"Morning, twins," he said, smirking, as Josh and I practically skipped hand in hand up to him. "What's on the agenda for today?" 

"Today we're going to Bowie!" Josh said, clapping his hands. "We're going to have breakfast together at the place where we used to go after church, and then I'm taking Jack on a tour of the city." 

"Cool," Andrew said. 

I leaned over and kissed Josh on the cheek, and we all piled into the car. We had a leisurely breakfast with Andrew, sitting in a corner booth, watching people go buy. They seemed kind of friendly, and mostly happy, all of them wandering around with smiles and telling each other good morning. The waitress, a nice older lady, remembered Josh, even though his family had moved away from there years ago, asking about Karen and Roy and the rest of them, and I realized why all of these people seemed so odd to me. They all acted like Josh did, like nothing bad could ever happen to any of them. Was this what living in the south did to you? That strange world where Josh grew up, where everyone was happy and nothing bad ever happened to anyone, the one I had wondered about? It was Bowie. The city was nice, but I was completely creeped out. Josh seemed so excited to bring me here that I didn't want to say anything that would hurt his feelings, but I just felt vaguely unsettled, as if I had wandered into a fifties sitcom town or something. I felt like the kids in "Pleasantville". 

"You ok?" I leaned over and asked Andrew when Josh went to the bathroom. Andrew's eyes had been darting furtively around the restaurant all through breakfast. 

"This place is fucking weird, " Andrew whispered, looking spooked. 

"Thank God!" I said loudly, noticing the heads snapping around toward our booth and realizing I'd just taken the Lord's name in vain. "Sorry!" 

Andrew snickered as I made the sign of the cross on my shoulders, probably doing it backwards. I hadn't been to church in years. I leaned back toward him. 

"I thought it was just me," I whispered. 

"Trust me, it's not just you, " Andrew said, jumping when the waitress appeared to top off my coffee. I thought for an absurd second that he was going to pull out his gun and cap her. "This town is a freakshow." 

"But it's really nice," I added quickly. I didn't want Josh to come back and hear us badmouthing his town. "The people are friendly, and everything is really pretty. It's a great town. It's just weird." 

When Josh came back he paid for breakfast, and then we went on a little driving tour, to see Josh's old house, and his school, and his church. I mentally compared it to the little tour I'd taken Josh on of my hometown, noticing the obvious differences. Josh didn't show us any places where he told a story of being scarred for life, or where people had been horribly unkind to him. Josh had grown up in this perfect city, having a perfect life, with his nearly perfect family, and I could understand again why Justin was jealous of it sometimes. Then again, if he'd grown up somewhere else, he wouldn't be my Josh, and I wouldn't have him any other way. We ended up at a park, one of the larger ones in the city. 

"The ice arena's over that way, and the amphitheater's that way," Josh said, pointing, as he walked around to the back of the car. He pulled open the back hatch, and pulled out two pairs of rollerblades, grinning. "Here, put these on. I want to do a loop around the pond first." 

"OK," I said, sitting down on the curb to pull my shoes off. Josh loved rollerblading, and I wasn't bad at not falling down. 

"What am I gonna do?" Andrew asked, looking in the back for another pair. 

"You can pace us in the car, or just hang out here," Josh said. "I'm taking Jack on tour of my town." 

We spent the rest of the morning blading up and down the paths in the park, and then the streets and sidewalks. Josh pointed out museums, and places where he used to hang out, and told me a lot of stories about his childhood and growing up here. He shared some amusing stories about Tyler and Heather, which I filed away for future reference, and mainly he just spent the day grinning, soaking in the sunshine, and holding my hand as we coasted along. Josh loved his city, and loved sharing it with me. We didn't see a lot of people he knew, but many people knew who we were. Andrew kept pace with us in the car, but we more or less ignored him. When we were hungry, we stopped and got hot dogs from a street vendor, slathering them with chili, and then we headed right back out onto the sidewalks. 

Eventually, a little sweaty but still enjoying ourselves, we met up with Andrew in the car and put our shoes back on. Josh insisted on driving, and we finally arrived at what looked like a large ranch house. Josh asked Andrew to stay in the car, and then he walked me inside, pressing something, doubtlessly a wad of cash, into the hand of the woman who opened the door. 

"Welcome," she said, smiling like everyone else here did. 

"Thanks for opening special for us," Josh said. "We'll just be a few minutes." 

"Take your time," she said, gesturing toward the back of the house. 

I followed Josh curiously into what looked to be a large private library. 

"Josh, where are we?" I asked finally, watching as he pulled down a binder with which he was obviously familiar. Josh led me over to a small couch, and sat down beside me, opening the book. 

"We're at the county genealogical library," Josh said, turning through the pages. "Here, I want you to look at this. It's called a family group sheet. This is my family, Jack. This is my history." 

We looked at it together, Josh walking me through it, tracing the lines with his finger as he passed along stories about this one or that one, family legends and things he'd heard as a child. We followed marriages, births, and deaths, and traced our way back through the generations together. 

"This is where I came from, Jack," Josh said, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. "And now, this is where you come from, too." 

"Oh, Josh," I sighed, leaning into him. "Thank you." 

Josh's soft lips pressed to mine, and I pushed mine back against his with equal fervor. The only noise in the library for a few minutes were the soft sucking sounds of two people in love, kissing each other, lost in themselves and ignorant of the whole world. The binder slid off of my lap, breaking the spell as it clattered to the floor, and we both grinned. 

"Come on," Josh said, taking my hand and pulling me off of the couch as he replaced the book on the shelf. "If we hurry, we can spend a little time walking around the grounds out at the Belair Mansion!" 

We laughed our way back to the car, hand in hand, Josh thanking the woman again on the way out. We spent the rest of the afternoon out wandering around the mansion, which was also a museum. Josh and I were in full out mushy couple mode, holding hands and sighing a lot, and Andrew gave us a pretty liberal distance for a bodyguard, either wanting to give us our space or not wanting to be seen too close to our mooning around. After we got tired of that, the three of us went to dinner at Josh's favorite Chinese buffet, and then went to see a play in the Playhouse, put on by the community theater group. At the hotel afterward, Josh and I made love for a while before falling asleep. 

The next day, outfitted again in matching outfits that Andrew shook his head and sighed at, the three of us went to Baltimore, and spent most of the day running around the harbor. We went shopping, and toured the USS Constellation, the clipper ship docked in the harbor. Josh and I took a lot of pictures of each other, and had Andrew take a lot of pictures of us together, knowing that we would want to look back at these later to remember this. We had lunch at the Hard Rock, and Josh politely asked for a menu, offering to sign one for them in return, even though I knew he already had one from here on the wall of the music room at the house, where he kept his collection. After lunch we rode a shuttle boat out to Fort McHenry, to see where the Star Spangled Banner had been written and to tour the fort, and then we finished our day in Baltimore with a trip to the aquarium and dinner out at a seafood restaurant. 

When we got back to the hotel Josh immediately pushed me into the bathroom, turning on the shower and pawing my clothes off of me even as he flung his own aside. Our hands were all over each other as he started soaping me up, and I grabbed the shower gel and squirted it all over him, laughing. Our horseplay quickly and predictably degenerated into making out, and I turned around and pressed my ass to Josh's hard cock, feeling him slide soapily between my cheeks. 

"Fuck me, Josh," I panted, grinding against him. "Now, please." 

"Yeah," he groaned, pressing his wet cockhead against my hole. He grunted a little pushing his way inside, and I felt every inch of him sliding into me as he leaned forward, the water beating down on us. 

"Do it, Josh," I coaxed, tossing my head back to rest it on his shoulder. I felt his abs crunching against my back as he began to thrust into me, ripples of pleasure rolling over me. 

Josh's hands were clawing at my chest, fighting for traction as he began to drive into me, but he dropped one down to my cock, squeezing it. I squirted some gel down there, too, to give him a little lubricant, and he began to stroke my cock rapidly. Both of us were yelping and sighing as our feet slid through the shower, my arms braced against the back wall as I pushed myself against Josh, verbally urging him forward, begging him to go faster, and harder. He did his best, his thighs flexing, knees knocking into my own as he pushed himself forward, slamming into my back. Before I knew it I felt my balls drawing up, my stomach tightening, and then I was yelping as I shot all over Josh's fingers, splattering the wall of the shower with cum. As I shook and jerked to my climax Josh sighed behind me, slamming forward, and I felt his cock jerking inside of me each time he shot. 

He pulled off of me, leaning back against the side wall, as he caught his breath, and I grabbed the washcloth and began to clean him off. When I was done, kissing him over and over and telling him how much I loved him the entire time, he took the other washcloth and made sure I was cleaned off, too. He spent a long, lingering time on my chest, running the washcloth over and over my nipples and pecs, pressing his fingers up and down my abs, and I did the same to him, loving the feel of his soft tanned skin, a shade darker than my own. Eventually we washed each other's hair and climbed out of the shower. 

"What are we doing now?" I asked, taking the towel he handed to me. 

"Fix your hair," he answered, one blue eye peeking out from the folds of the towel as he dried his own hair. I let my eyes wander up and down his body, taking in the muscles, the tan, the spent tube of his cock hanging down over his balls, and thought again that it was a hell of a view. "I'll go lay you out some clothes." 

"Where are we going?" I asked, still drying myself, as he walked into the bedroom. 

"Gay bar," he answered. "I heard about one in DC that's supposed to be good." 

"Are we bringing Andrew?" I asked, wrapping the towel around my waste as I turned to survey Josh's massive collection of hair care products. Really all I wanted was a comb. "Because I think he's straight." 

"I think you're right," Josh laughed from the bedroom. "I think we're going to have to iron these shirts. He's a bodyguard, though. He goes where we go, and if we go to a gay bar, Andrew comes with us. We're not going to have sex in front of him." 

"Come do your hair, and whatever you think needs to be done to mine, and I'll iron those in a second," I said. Whenever we were going out clubbing with the guys Josh always took a few minutes to adjust me, and I more or less accepted it. "What brought on the trip to the gay bar?" 

Josh and I went out clubbing all the time, but we usually went with the guys, and always to straight bars. A few times we'd even ended up at strip clubs with them, which was always a funny experience, what with girls crawling all over Joey and Justin throwing hundred dollar bills up in the air while screaming, "God bless America!" Josh and I had never asked the guys to go to a gay bar with us because we didn't think they'd like it, and we wanted to divert attention from Lance, Howie, Justin, and Nick whenever possible, although that really wasn't going to be much of a concern any longer. Josh stepped up beside me in the large bathroom and smiled at me in the mirror as he reached for the first of several tubes of goop. 

"I want to go out dancing, and I want to do it somewhere that we can be ourselves," he said. "I mean, I know we usually are anyway, but sometimes I feel like people are looking at us and stuff. I just want to have a good time with people who think we're normal." 

"We are normal," I said ironically, watching him put something with gold sparkles in it on his hair. He turned and streaked some of it through mine, too. 

"You know what I mean," he answered. "I want to go somewhere that we can both be comfortable. Besides, I've only gone to a gay bar that one time, and I don't like to think about that. I want to see what's out there, but not without you." 

Back when Josh and I had first started dating we had a rather large fight, and he went out to get drunk because he thought I was leaving. He'd ended up at a gay bar down in the Valley somewhere, and had danced with some guys and let them kiss him. I didn't really care about it too much, since he'd been upset and drunk, and so sorry afterward that I knew he'd never even think about cheating on me, but he still felt guilty about it. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, startling him gently out of his frown. 

"Josh, I told you to forget about it," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. "I'm not mad about that, Josh, and you know it. So you kissed some guys. I kissed Justin after Peyton died, and I did it to hurt you. You forgave me for that, so how could I still hold what you did against you?" 

"Yeah, but I slept with Justin," Josh said quietly, looking away. I slid my hand over his face and turned his chin toward me carefully. Josh's eyes were watering, and he blinked as he looked at me. 

"Doesn't matter," I said firmly. "We already had this discussion. You thought I was gone, Josh. What's done is done, and it doesn't matter to me anyway. I love you, and I know you love me. That's all that's important. Now finish getting ready, and I'm going to go iron whatever horrors you've picked out for us." 

"OK," Josh said, grabbing me. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly for a second, squeezing my bare chest against his before he let me go, smiling. "I do love you, more than anything." 

"I know," I said, walking out of the bathroom. "Because I feel the same way." 

The gay bar was a lot of fun, although I'm not sure how good a time Andrew had. He kept smiling, but mainly just parked himself at the bar, keeping us in sight. Josh and I hadn't done a lot of stuff in the gay community since he came out, at least not together. I had done some speaking appearances before I got kidnapped, invited to a few schools and colleges around LA to talk to various groups, and had done all those interviews when I got out of the hospital, but really the only things Josh and I had done together as a gay couple were the Barbara Walters interview, a few print interviews, and he'd been in a couple of those other interviews. We hadn't really gone out among any large crowds of gays, no parades or anything, so we were completely unprepared and pleasantly surprised by the reception we got at the club. Everyone, even the big brawny guys who probably thought boybands were nothing but crap, wanted to stop and say hi, and shake our hands. A couple of them wanted to give us hugs, but I drew the line when I saw someone try to grab Josh's ass. Josh diplomatically removed his hands as I fumed and Andrew advised us not to let anyone else grab us, or he'd drop them. 

When the novelty of our arrival had worn off we joined everyone on the dance floor, laughing and having fun. Neither one of us drank very much, and, from common sense, we didn't take any drinks anyone offered us. There were some drugs flying around, poppers and pills, mostly, and I could tell that Josh, being very anti-drugs, was a little uncomfortable, but we both agreed, whispering to each other, to ignore it and just have a good time. The outfits Josh had picked out for us were a little sparkly for my taste, me in white denim and a shiny gold top and Josh in gold leather pants and a sleeveless black t- shirt with a gold design on the front, but we were far from the most flamboyantly dressed, and I laughed as I saw Josh's eyes darting around the room all night, drinking everything in. I silently prayed that he wasn't getting any ideas, but wouldn't be at all surprised if he had all the guys dressed like the Village People on the next tour. 

When we finally went back to the hotel, long after midnight, we told Andrew to sleep in, and that we'd see him after lunch. Josh was running on adrenaline, practically bouncing off of the walls, but I knew that he'd be out like a light in about twenty minutes. 

"Say good night to the rest of the Solid Gold dancers for me," Andrew snickered. "I'll see you guys tomorrow." 

"Everyone's a comedian," I muttered, shaking my head as I pushed Josh inside. 

We brushed our teeth together and began to strip down by the bed. Josh smiled at me as I undid the buttons on my shirt, wondering when I'd ever wear this again. We'd stopped wearing underwear to bed a while ago, and we spooned up against each other in the darkness. Josh still smelled a little like sweat, unable to dance without giving it his all, but he also felt warm and relaxed against me. I felt his breath on my neck as he whispered quietly. 

"That was fun, Jack," he said. "We should do it again." 

"You're ok with it?" I asked. Josh had been very careful to still be identified as a musician first, not as a gay musician. 

"Yeah," he answered. "I didn't know what we did was so important to people. I mean, we get all the letters, but I didn't realize that it meant so much to so many people. I guess I understand better now what you were trying to tell me when you did all those interviews in New York. We're making a difference in people's lives, Jack, just by being who we are. That's so amazing to me." 

"Me too, babe," I whispered. "Me too." 

We slept in the next day, having a nice room service brunch after making love in the morning and taking a long, hot shower together. In the afternoon we collected Andrew and drove to Annapolis, to do some shopping, see the capitol, and tour the Naval Academy before another dinner out. It's a beautiful city, and Josh again took great pleasure in showing it off, taking me to all the places he knew and trying to keep Andrew amused as well. We were still tired from the clubbing, so we gave Andrew the night off and watched movies in our suite with popcorn, playing chess and then just laying against each other on the bed. 

For the next few days we tackled Washington. I hadn't been there in several years, and Andrew hadn't ever, so Josh wanted to show us both the city, although the tour was much more geared toward my wants than Andrew's. After all, it was my honeymoon, not his. We went through most of the Smithsonian museums, although Josh and I were both the kind of people who stopped to read plaques and displays, so we were really only hitting two or maybe three of them a day. We toured the monuments, Lincoln, Jefferson, and the rest, and spent most of a day going through Arlington. We drove out to Mount Vernon as well, and also spent the better part of a day riding at a stable that the hotel recommended for Josh. It left my butt sore, and my legs a little, but it was a lot of fun, and it was even more amusing listening to Andrew curse his horse, which was old, slow, and stubborn. We went through the Mint, the Library of Congress, and managed to spend a couple of days just shopping, too, since there was always something else Josh wanted to pick up. 

We sent presents home to the guys, Josh's family, and Carla, and we called them all, too, leaving them quick messages to let them know how much fun we were having. We tried to talk to Justin and Lance a little more in depth, but they didn't really open up, just telling us that they were seeing separate therapists, and that they were getting help. The two of them were staying at Justin's house, because Justin felt safe there and Lance saw too much of Howie inside his own home. They didn't really elaborate on that, either, but they did say that they hoped we were having a good time. 

"You think they're ok?" Josh asked me, holding my hand as we walked through the reptile house at the zoo. 

"Well, they are getting help, like they said they would," I said, shrugging. "On the other hand, they've only been going for like a week, and I don't know if that's every day or what. Honestly, Josh, I don't think they're going to be ok for a while, but at least they're taking care of each other." 

"What's up with that, do you think?" Josh asked. "I mean, I know that they feel safe with each other, but it sounds kind of like Lance is moved in, not just staying for a little while. I'm just worried. They have so much history between the two of them. Their relationship is so, you know, complicated." 

"That's true," I agreed. "But I don't think they're going to hurt each other. I really don't think either of them can, and from what we saw, it really looks like Lance is the stronger one right now." 

"I know, but it kind of hurts a little that Justin's turning to him," Josh said, shaking his head. "I mean, I'm not jealous, but he used to come to me." 

"Yeah, he did, but Josh, he's been honest with you about this," I said, hugging him to take some of the sting out of what I was going to say next. "Loving you and not having you hurts Justin, and I think right now he's trying to avoid pain. You wouldn't fault him for that, would you?" 

"No, of course not," Josh said, holding me tightly. "As long as Justin gets better, I want what's best for him, and if that means he pushes me away a little, I guess I have to let him, even if I don't like it." 

"It'll be ok, babe," I said, trying to soothe him a little. "Someday this will all be worked out. In the meantime, we'll just do what we can." 

"I know," Josh said. "I know." 

But what about that Lance and Justin kiss before the wedding? 

---

CHAPTER 99

---

LANCE'S POV: 

Lance sat in the kitchen of Justin's house, a glass of juice next to him on the table, the only sound the whisper quiet hum of the refrigerator and the slight scratching of Lance's pen across the pages of the blank notebook in front of him. Writing out his feelings in the notebook had been Justin's idea, and Lance's therapist had agreed that it was a good idea. Lance had difficulty sometimes articulating his feelings, tripping over his tongue or breaking down in tears, and Justin had suggested trying to write them out. He confessed that he had stolen the trick from JC, but Lance had to admit that it helped, just the same. In his notebook he could write out anything he was feeling, and didn't have to worry about what anyone would think. He could be more honest there, because the words seemed to roll off of the pen, not getting stuck like they did in his mouth. 

Justin's house was nice, but Lance couldn't help comparing it to his own. He felt comfortable here, and welcome, but it wasn't his own space, or his own stuff. He didn't seem capable of dealing with his own house at the moment, though, which was why Justin had invited him. When they came back from the wedding, they had tried to take Lance home, but hadn't stayed for very long. Howie had taken his stuff out while they were gone, but he had left a lot behind, as well. The gifts Lance had given him were in a pile on one of the beds. The pictures of them together, which Lance had here and there all over the house, were all still there, and when Lance saw them he felt something twist inside him. He remembered starting to cry, looking around, seeing Howie everywhere, the two of them smiling and happy, and then the next thing he remembered was being out in the driveway, with Justin holding on to him and telling him it would be ok. The house even still smelled like Howie, as if he had walked through only moments before they got there, and Lance couldn't bring himself to go back in. 

So he had come here, to stay with Justin. Justin made a weak joke about his house being the convalescent home, since Josh had come to stay here when he thought Jack left him, but Justin also admitted to Lance that he didn't want to be alone, and he didn't want Lance alone, either. The two of them stayed close together when they were in the house, no matter what they were doing, and Justin had made some changes for Lance, too. He had moved the bed out of his master bedroom and had two smaller ones moved in, so that they could still be there for each other and could keep that feeling they had at the resort of being nearby if needed, but still having their own space. The night after the wedding, when Lance had to clean out Justin's bite, they had slept in the same bed, but they hadn't since then, at least not until last night. Last night was what Lance was trying to write out now, trying to get sorted a little before he went to pick up Justin from his session, and took him shopping. 

Lance had known it was a dream the minute it started, but he hadn't been able to stop it, hadn't been able to shake himself out of it. In the dream he was back at the resort, and it was night. None of the lights were on, but he was walking to his bungalow, listening to someone scream, and someone else laugh, no, two people laughing. He pushed open the door and the bungalow was dark, the furniture just black shapes, but light was spilling out all around the edges of the bedroom door, and he winced, pushing it open. He looked down, and saw that he was naked, his body weak and ugly, pale, small, not perfect, something nobody wanted, and then the door was all the way open, and he saw Nick and Howie, facing him. They were naked, like they always were in Lance's dreams, and they both seemed to glow. They were standing casually in the doorway, Nick's hand curled possessively around Howie's penis, squeezing it as Howie smiled, and Nick's own hard cock jutted out, impossibly huge, seemingly the size of Lance's arm. 

Lance heard crying behind them, and the two of them smiled and stepped apart. Looking down, Lance saw Justin curled in a ball on the floor, trying to hold shreds of clothing to himself, crying. Justin was covered in blood. The hole on his shoulder was huge, a gaping wound that turned Lance's stomach, and between Justin's legs Lance could see blood pouring down his thighs. Justin looked younger, like he had when Nsync first got started, a little boy, and his eyes were squeezed closed. Lance stepped toward him, instinctively reaching out to help him, and Howie shoved him away, punching him in the stomach. Lance barely felt it, and reached for Justin again, and Howie hit him again, driving him back. Nick stepped toward Justin, grabbing him, picking him up, and Justin began to beg and plead, his voice small and weak, as Nick held him down and began to push himself inside again. Justin shrieked in pain, and Lance tried to help him again, but Howie began to beat him in earnest, raining blows down on him, driving him to the floor, and then Howie was on top of him, pushing his cock into Lance's ass while he continued to punch him. Lance heard himself screaming, his cries mixed in with Justin's, and then Justin's eyes popped open, bright blue, but dying. 

"I did it for you, Lance," Justin said, tears streaming down his face as Nick laughed above him. "I did it for you." 

Lance's eyes popped open in the darkness as his breath caught in his throat, and he felt the sheets sticking to him, covered in sweat. A hand touched his shoulder and he screamed, throwing himself backward. 

"No!" he yelped, still only half awake. He heard someone moving in the darkness and flicked on the light, trying to steady himself. Justin was scooting backwards across the floor, in his shorts and t-shirt, and as Lance watched he backed into the wall and pulled his legs up. Justin's eyes were huge and blue. "Justin?" 

"I'm sorry!" Justin said, shaking a little. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, didn't mean to touch you. I thought, you were awake, and I, I brought you some water. I'm sorry." 

"Justin, it's ok," Lance said soothingly, sitting up. "You just startled me, that's all. You didn't hurt me, Justin." 

"I'm sorry," Justin said again. His voice was shaking a little, and Lance realized Justin thought he'd done something wrong. "I didn't mean to scare you." 

"It's ok, Justin, it's ok," Lance repeated, patting the bed next to him. "Come sit by me. Come on, it's ok, Justin. You just startled me. You didn't do anything wrong, ok?" 

Justin swallowed and sat down on the bed, near Lance, but not touching him. He reached over toward the nightstand between their beds and handed Lance a glass of water. 

"Are you ok?" Justin asked, his eyes wide with concern as they flicked over Lance's bare torso, noting the sweat, and the way Lance's hair was stuck down to his forehead. 

"I'm ok, I think," Lance said, reaching out to flick off the light. When Justin looked at his body it only called attention to how imperfect it was, how much of a contrast there was between Justin's firmly muscled torso and Lance's softer one. He knew Justin wouldn't judge him, but he judged himself, and always came up wanting. "I just, I had a nightmare." 

"I'm sorry," Justin said quietly. He set his hand next to Lance's leg, and Lance reached down and took it with his free hand. "Do you need to talk about it? Was it bad?" 

Lance sighed. 

"It was disturbing," he said carefully. "I was back at the bungalow, and Howie was there, and Nick, too, and they were, um, they were hurting you. I tried to help you, but Howie, he started hitting me, and it was all tangled up. It's hard to explain, but it was bad." 

"I'm sorry," Justin said quietly. Lance knew if he told Justin what he said in his dream that it would just make him feel bad, and he didn't want to upset him any further. Justin already seemed upset enough about touching Lance, and startling him. 

"Why are you apologizing?" Lance asked, seeing Justin's eyes sparkle in the darkness. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were wet, and Lance squeezed his hand again, trying to soothe him. 

"I don't know," Justin answered finally, shrugging. His teeth glittered a little now, a small smile that sent a feeling of warmth flooding through Lance. "I guess I'm sorry you had a bad dream." 

"Thank you, Justin," Lance said, setting the water glass back down on the nightstand. He had Justin's hand in both of his now, and he stood, leading Justin across the room to his own bed. "I'm sorry I woke you." 

"You didn't," Justin whispered, sitting down on his bed. Lance sat next to him. 

"Justin?" Lance asked quietly, picking up a difference in his tone. "Please tell me what's wrong." 

"I wasn't asleep," Justin said quietly. "I tried to go to sleep earlier, but I, when I went to sleep I saw Nick. I woke up, and I thought it was just a bad dream, so I went back to sleep, but then it happened again, and I was, I didn't want to try to go to sleep again, because I was afraid." 

Lance glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost five in the morning. 

"Justin, how long ago was that?" he asked, rubbing Justin's shoulders lightly through his t-shirt, careful to stay away from the square of bandage. 

"Midnight," Justin whispered, his hand flying up to his eyes. Justin always cried as if it hurt him to, rubbing at his eyes to make it go away. Lance felt his heart breaking as he realized that Justin had been laying in the dark for five hours, afraid to go to sleep, and he gently began to lay Justin down on the bed. Justin wrapped his arms around Lance's shoulders, burying his face in Lance's bare chest, and sobbed against him. 

"Justin, come on, you need some rest," Lance said, running one hand over Justin's head, massaging his scalp, while he ran the other in circles over Justin's back. "You have to get some sleep." 

"I can't," Justin sobbed. "I can't sleep, because, because, I'm afraid, and I see him, and I don't want, I don't want to be scared, Lance. I can't go to sleep. I can't sleep." 

"Yes, you can," Lance soothed, keeping his voice even and level, breathing in and out carefully, hoping Justin would feel the rise and fall of his chest and slow his own breathing down. It seemed to be working. "Yes you can. It'll be ok, Justin, it'll be ok." 

"No," Justin whimpered weakly. 

"Shhhhh," Lance soothed, still stroking lightly over Justin's head and back. Justin's legs were tangled around his as Justin lay partially on top of him. "Shhhh, close your eyes, and it'll be ok." 

Eventually Justin's tears sputtered off, and they lay together on the bed, breathing quietly in the darkness. Lance thought Justin was asleep, finally, and was about to go to his own bed when Justin's whisper startled him. 

"Lance?" 

"Yes, Justin?" Lance answered quietly, not wanting to break the spell of drowsiness creeping over them. 

"Do you think, do you think God punishes people?" Justin asked, his voice high and reedy. Lance could barely hear him. "Do you think that I, that Nick did that, was it because of what I did to you?" 

"Justin!" Lance hissed sharply, stunned. "Why would you think that?" 

"Because I deserved it," Justin whispered, his lips brushing Lance's pec when he spoke. "Because I hurt you, I think God punished me." 

"No, Justin, no," Lance said quietly, holding Justin tightly to him. He felt Justin trembling, and wondered how someone so big and strong could feel so small and weak. "God forgives, Justin. So do I. You didn't deserve this, Justin. You didn't." 

"Are you sure?" Justin asked. He sounded like a little kid again, his questions so tentative, his voice so unsteady. 

"I promise," Lance said, still running his fingers over Justin's short hair. They were both quiet for several minutes, but Lance could sense that Justin was still awake. "Justin? Do you want me to go back to my bed?" 

Justin swallowed against him. 

"Not unless you want to," Justin said. "You can stay here if you're, um, you know, if you're comfortable and you don't want to get up again." 

"OK," Lance said, pulling the sheet over them both. Justin snuggled against him, his arm on Lance's chest next to his face as Lance cradled him. "Justin, if you want me to sleep over here, you can just ask, or say so." 

"OK," Justin whispered. "Lance, I want you to sleep over here, because I feel safe when I sleep by you." 

"OK," Lance said again. "Now get some rest." 

When they woke up in the morning they took turns showering and getting ready. Lance went across the hall to get dressed afterward, and when he came downstairs Justin was working busily at the stove, trying to prepare omelets for them. He worked so hard on them, and seemed so proud of having made them, that Lance tactfully ignored the shreds of eggs peeking out of the garbage disposal attesting to Justin's first attempt. They weren't quite omelets, more like scrambled eggs with bacon and cheese mixed in, but they were still ok. Even if they weren't, Lance would have lied through his teeth about them rather than upsetting Justin. 

"They're good?" Justin asked for the third time. "They're ok?" 

"They're great, Justin," Lance said, smiling, oblivious to the parsley stuck to his teeth. "Thank you for breakfast." 

"I wanted to do something nice," Justin said, looking down shyly. "For helping me sleep." 

"Justin, we help each other, remember?" Lance said, patting Justin's hand. "You don't have to pay me back for anything because you do the same for me. Now, what are you doing this afternoon?" 

"After my appointment?" Justin asked. Lance nodded. Today was Justin's day for therapy. Lance's was tomorrow. "I thought I might go shopping. My therapist and I think I should start going to a group, and I want to look nice. Do you want to go shopping with me? We could get some food or something." 

"Sure," Lance answered, amused at the thought of Justin buying clothes to wear to group therapy. It was such a JC thing for him to do. "But I need to ask you about something else." 

"OK," Justin answered, cocking his head to one side. "Is everything ok?" 

"Yeah, but I wanted to ask your permission for something," Lance answered, swallowing. "Joey called me yesterday, and he wants to come over and hang out with me, but I didn't know, since it's your house. I'll make sure he's gone before you get back, or I can come pick you up and we can go straight to shopping. You won't have to see him at all if you don't want to." 

Justin sighed and looked down, obviously torn. He didn't want to see Joey, because the things Joey had said to him were burned into his mind. He remembered Joey telling him that he wasn't Lance's friend, that all he did was hurt Lance, and he remembered how much it sounded like what Nick said to him. Joey had been so angry, had thrown him into the wall, and then he'd said that Justin had moved in on Josh, too, and that wasn't the way it happened. It wasn't. Joey might be Lance's friend, but he had made it clear that he wasn't Justin's, and wouldn't ever be. 

"Justin, he's my friend, and I just want to see him," Lance said quietly. "I know what he said hurt you, but Justin, he was angry. He's sorry, he really is. If you don't want him over here, I could go over to his house." 

"No, no," Justin said, squeezing Lance's hand. "I told you to treat this like your house. If you want to have a friend over, that's fine. Why don't you, um, you have a good time with Joey, and I'll call you when I'm done at my appointment." 

That was the last they discussed it before Lance drove Justin to his appointment. He called Joey after he got back, and Joey said he'd be over soon. In the meantime Lance had been writing in his book, trying to figure out what last night's dream meant. Did he feel guilty for what happened to Justin? Justin had been trying to help him, trying to get him away from Howie, and it wouldn't have happened if Lance had just listened the first time Justin had come to him, if he hadn't forced Justin to prove it to him, to go to such lengths and cost himself so much. Lance knew that Justin needed help, but was he trying to help him because they were friends, because he felt guilty, or because of something else? They hadn't talked about that kiss since right after it happened, but something must have been there. Whatever the reason, their entire relationship was shifting. Justin was so fragile, and Lance had never seen him like this, never seen him so defeated. Lance kept being the strong one, kept trying to hold Justin up, because Justin couldn't do it on his own. 

Lance was still trying to write it all out, to try to get a grip on his feelings, when Joey rang the bell. Lance opened the door, and Joey smiled on the doorstep, not quite grinning. 

"Hey," he said, holding out his arms. Lance hugged him quickly, not stiffly, but not for very long. 

"Hi," Lance said, holding the door open and waving inside. "Do you want a drink or something?" 

"Sure," Joey said, following Lance in. He looked around curiously, not having been inside Justin's house for a while, and noticed that Lance seemed pretty at home, fluffing a pillow on the couch when they walked by, moving a candleholder on a side table as they walked to the kitchen. Lance pulled a glass down and opened the fridge, holding things up until Joey nodded. "Thanks." 

"You're welcome," Lance said, pouring himself a glass of lemonade. They sat at the table in the kitchen, Lance's hands folded on top of his notebook. "How was your trip to New York?" 

"It was good," Joey answered. "Bri misses her Uncle Lance." 

Lance smiled. 

"I miss her, too," he said, shaking his head. Bri was his goddaughter, and Lance took that duty very seriously. "She's getting so big, so fast." 

"Yeah, I think I'm going to have her and Kelly come down here for the rehearsals, before we tour again," Joey said. They were quiet for a minute, Lance looking at the pictures Joey took out of his wallet and slid across the table. "You know, Bri's dad misses her Uncle Lance, too." 

"I'm sorry," Lance said, leaning back a little. "Things have been, while, you know what they've been like." 

"I do know," Joey said. "That's why I came to check on you. How are you doing? Are you ok?" 

Lance hesitated, glancing down at his notebook, before he answered. 

"I'm mostly ok," Lance said. "I'm going back to my therapist again, and I'm trying to work things out. It's hard sometimes, but, you know, I'm dealing." 

"Have you heard from Howie?" Joey asked, not sure if he should bring it up or not. 

"No, not at all," Lance answered, standing up to rinse out his empty glass in the sink. He looked away from Joey, worried about what Joey might see in his face. 

"How do you feel about that?" Joey asked, staying in his seat. He wanted Lance to feel comfortable, not like he was trying to pry. 

"Joey, I don't really want to talk about it," Lance said, turning around. "I know you mean well, but I really just don't want to discuss it." 

"Lance, I'm sorry, but I can't take that as an answer," Joey said, folding his hands on the table in front of him. His face was set in his familiar lines, not quite a scowl, but definitely not a smile. 

"Why not?" Lance asked, crossing his arms. Why was Joey forcing him to talk about this? 

"Because last time you were in trouble I didn't say anything," Joey said, looking down at his folded hands. "I didn't say anything either time. I could tell something was bothering you when Justin, you know, when he hurt you, and I didn't say anything. I thought it was JC being gay that was bothering you, and that you were still just upset about that, and I thought that you were being an ass, so I ignored all the signs that you were in trouble. I tried to help you afterward, but I feel like, you know, like it was too little, too late. And then, you know, when Howie found out about Justin, he started taking all your time, and cutting you off from all of us, and we just let it happen. You and I were best friends, Lance. I'd like to think that we still are, but I haven't been there for you." 

Lance sighed, and sat down again. 

"Joey, you didn't know what was happening," Lance said, patting Joey's hand. "You can't blame yourself for things that you didn't know about. If you had known, you would have helped me, but you can't feel bad for something you didn't know. And even if you had come to me, either time, I might not have listened to you. I might have just pushed you away." 

"But I should have known, Lance," Joey said, shaking his head. "Jack was right. We all should have known. We all saw the signs. We saw you withdrawing, saw you spending all of your time with Howie, and we saw how unhappy you were becoming. We saw you changing Lance, I saw you, and I didn't say anything. When Justin was hurting you, I saw that something was bothering you, and I didn't try to help. And then Howie, he hurt you for months, months, Lance. How is that supposed to make me feel, as your friend? How am I supposed to live with myself, knowing that I let that happen?" 

"Joey, what happened did because of me, and Justin, and Howie," Lance said. "And I'm not going to argue about blame, and who did more, or whose fault it was. You didn't let anything happen. What can I do to make you believe that, Joey?" 

Joey swallowed, and then looked up at him. 

"I want you to come stay with me," Joey said. 

"What?" Lance asked, surprised. He stared at Joey, trying to figure out what he was talking about. "Why?" 

"Lance, please don't take this the wrong way," Joey began. "I didn't step in the last times you got hurt, but I need to step in now. I'm worried that you're about to get hurt again, and I want to stop it from happening this time." 

"Joey, that's stupid," Lance said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, but nobody here is going to hurt me. I mean, it's just me and Justin. What do you think?" 

Lance froze, his voice trailing off before he finished the question, and Joey stared at him. Lance stood suddenly. 

"No, Joey," he said angrily, his voice hard. "Why do you keep doing this? Why can't you believe Justin's changed? Justin is not going to hurt me!" 

"That's what you thought last time, too," Joey said, shaking his head. "Lance, look around. Look what Justin's doing to you." 

"He isn't doing anything to me!" Lance snapped, shaking his head. "We're helping each other! Neither one of us wants to be alone right now, and." 

"Of course not," Joey said, cutting him off. "Justin never wants to be alone, Lance. He's always with someone, always has someone to follow him around and do what he wants, and now he's got you living here with him, taking care of him." 

"It's not like that," Lance said, backing away from Joey. "We're helping each other! You don't know anything about him, Joey! Anything!" 

"I know enough!" Joey snapped. "I know what he's like, Lance. I know that he kept Josh around for years, dangling on a string. I know that he had Britney the same way. We saw the way he used Nick, Lance, and I won't let him do that to you. I won't let him use the way you feel about him to turn you into his slave again." 

"The way I feel about him?" Lance repeated. 

"Lance, if you're going to make me say it, then I will," Joey said, staring at Lance, his brown eyes firm. "I don't know if it's love, or lust, or even just fascination, but Justin hurt you last time because you wanted him. That's how he got inside your head, Lance, and you know it, because you're the one who told us. He knew that you had feelings for him, and he used them, because that's what he does. And now he's doing it again. Even if what he's doing this time is different, he's still doing it the same way, still playing off of the way you feel so that he doesn't have to be alone. If you let him, he's going to suck you dry, Lance, and he won't look back when he moves on." 

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," Lance spat finally, glaring at Joey. Justin wasn't using him, not this time. 

"Lance, I know it hurts to hear this," Joey began, but Lance cut him off. 

"Don't tell me you know how I feel!" Lance barked. "Don't tell me that you just want to be my friend, Joey. You think Howie didn't tell me that? You don't know how I feel right now, and you have no idea what you're talking about! I can't believe you think Justin's using me! You don't know how he feels! You don't know what it's like to feel the way he does! I do, Joey! I know how he feels!" 

"Because of him," Joey said quietly. "You know how he feels because of what he did to you." 

"What he did to me and what Nick did to him are two different things," Lance said quietly. "Nick hurt him. Nick forced him to do something he didn't want. Nick violated him, Joey, and Nick broke him. Is that what you want to hear? Justin's spirit is broken. Nick took everything away from him, everything. All of Justin's confidence, all of his arrogance, the innocence he still had, everything. He doesn't have anything left, not even his friends, and I'm not going to walk away from him." 

"What about when he broke you?" Joey asked. "What about when he hurt you so badly you had to hurt yourself to feel better? Do you remember that, Lance? How is what Nick did any worse than what Justin did?" 

"Because Justin didn't rape me," Lance said bluntly. "He didn't force me. Maybe I didn't want it like that, but part of me did. Part of me thought I deserved to be treated that way, and part of me liked it, Joey. Are you happy now? Is that what you came over to hear? Does that make you feel better about Justin now? He used me and humiliated me, and I liked it, Joey. That's why I hurt myself. That's why I was so ashamed. Because I wanted it. Because I enjoyed it." 

"Lance, how do you feel about Justin?" Joey asked. "How do you feel about him, right now?" 

"Justin will never hurt me, Joey," Lance answered. "I don't think he can, and I know he would never want to. He doesn't just tell me that, Joey. He shows me, in a thousand ways. He's so sorry for what he did, and he thinks that, well, never mind. That's private. What I'm trying to tell you is that Justin is my friend. I care about him, and he cares about me. We're taking care of each other." 

"And?" Joey asked, waiting. 

"And what?" Lance asked. 

"And how do you feel about him?" Joey asked. "I'm just trying to keep you from getting hurt." 

"You keep saying that," Lance said, shaking his head. "Justin will never hurt me." 

"Maybe not deliberately," Joey said. "But Lance, if you're thinking there might ever be anything else between you, that maybe someday Justin will feel about you the way I think you feel about him, even if it is just a little bit, then you're wrong. Justin may care about you, Lance, but he's never going to see you as more than second best. Justin already gave his heart away, Lance. Even if someday he cares about you that way, he's never going to see you as more than a substitute for JC. I'm just telling you now not to get your hopes up. I want you to be happy someday, Lance, with someone who can love you back." 

"I think you should go now," Lance said quietly, feeling daggers stab at his insides. 

"Lance," Joey said, standing. 

"No," Lance said sharply. "I told you, you don't know how I feel, and you don't know how Justin feels. You don't understand what happened to either one of us, and you don't trust him. That hurts me, Joey. Even if you don't trust him, it should mean something to you that I do, and it doesn't. I think you should go, while we're still friends, because if you ask me to choose between you and him, right now, I don't think you're going to like the choice I'd make." 

"It sounds like you already made it," Joey said sadly. "I'm going to go, but I'll still be here, still be your friend, when you need me again." 

"Goodbye, Joey," Lance said. "Thanks for stopping by." 

"Goodbye, Lance," Joey said, walking away. "For now." 

Lance watched him leave, and waited for Justin to call. 

---

CHAPTER 100

---

JACK'S POV: 

I felt Josh shift and sigh against me, and smiled, stroking his hair as he lay against my shoulder, asleep. He hadn't meant to drift off, but we'd been sitting in the airport lounge for almost two hours, and even I was tired. Andrew had gone to look for a snack, making me promise that neither of us would go anywhere, and that I would yell loudly for help if anything out of the ordinary, or even if anything ordinary, happened. Josh and I weren't to split up, and if we wanted to go anywhere other than the bench we were sitting on, we needed to go to the cafe up the concourse and get Andrew to accompany us. I listened to all of this, nodding my head, as Josh snoozed lightly against me, and then I went back to my book. 

We were supposed to be flying out to Colorado, finally, having finished our tour of the capitol. We'd seen everything we wanted, waiting in line to tour the White House rather than playing the celebrity card to get in, riding around the subways, eating out and shopping, and now we were ready for the second half. We'd spent a little more time bonding with Andrew, getting a better feel for him as he did the same with us, and we were all a lot more comfortable with each other, although we still had some friction about space. We had flown out of Baltimore, and through some sort of airline routing plan that would never make sense to me, had flown into Detroit, on our way to Denver. That's where we ran into trouble. First our plane had some sort of mechanical difficulty, and after we all boarded and sat on the runway for an hour and a half, the plane had taxied back to the gate, and we had all grumpily disembarked. Then, before we could get back onto another plane, there had been some sort of massive fuel spill across one of the runways, and the cleanup crews had been working for a while now. 

"I bet this isn't how you guys thought you'd spend your honeymoon, is it?" I heard from behind me. 

I turned wondering who had recognized us. It wouldn't be too hard, since Josh had taken his hat off a while ago, and his sunglasses had slipped while he was sleeping. I still didn't wear disguises in public, to the extent that Josh's accessories could actually be called a disguise, but if you looked at Josh, and saw me sitting next to him in an Nsync concert t- shirt, it wouldn't take a genius to put it all together. The guy looking at us, a small pile of newspapers on the empty seat next to him, was dressed casually. Longer, black hair peeked out the back of his baseball cap in a ponytail, and he had a scruffy little goatee. His brown eyes peered at me from beneath thick eyebrows, and I knew that I knew him from somewhere. I tried to put it together, fighting the nagging voice in my head that told me it should be obvious. 

"I've met you somewhere," I said, running faces through my head. He smiled. 

"Only once," he said. "And it was kind of a busy night for you. I met you and JC after the awards show, the night JC came out." 

"Oh my God, you're Kevin Richardson!" I blurted, and immediately blushed, clapping a hand over my mouth as he laughed. "Ooops. I'm sorry. I never do that." 

"It's ok," he said, holding out his hand again. I shook it, feeling his firm grip. "I get that a lot, actually." 

"I can't believe I didn't recognize you," I said, shaking my head. Josh shifted against me, and suddenly I felt a little shiver of panic. "Um, Kevin, are all of the Boys here?" 

Nick and Howie were the last people I wanted to see, especially on my honeymoon. Mainly I just wanted to grab them and beat them, and God only knew what Josh would think or do if he woke up and found them here. He shifted against me again, and I waited for Kevin to answer as I tried to decide whether or not to wake him. 

"Oh, no, it's just me," Kevin answered, shrugging. "Well, and my bodyguard over there." 

I followed his gesture and saw a large bodyguard watching us carefully from a few benches away. Wherever we went, and whoever we saw, bodyguards always looked the same. No matter how much they tried to blend, they always just put out this sort of bodyguard vibe, a kind of subliminal intimidation. I must have been really tired to miss him sitting over there, and I couldn't believe Andrew hadn't mentioned it. I would have expected the two of them to circle each other like mongrel dogs in the junkyard, sniffing and trying to outdo each other. 

"What are you doing here?" I asked, curious. 

"Same as you, I think," he answered. "I'm waiting for a plane. I've been sitting here, but didn't know if you guys would want to be bothered, so I didn't say anything. I was just reading about you, though, so I figured I'd say hi." 

"Reading about us?" I asked, glancing at the papers. Kevin handed me the one on top, and I saw that he was reading the gossip columns. There was a blurb about Josh and I being out at that gay club the other night, although it wasn't negative, just a mention that we were out and had been seen dancing and kissing and very much in love. "Oh, one of those. The press just seems to find us everywhere." 

"I know how you feel," Kevin answered. "I remember when Kristen and I got married it was this big thing for a while to try to get a picture of us in public. Luckily it's more or less worn off." 

"Yeah, it can be kind of annoying," I agreed. I pointed at his hat, and then at the folded sunglasses in his lap. "Fortunately you all seem to shop at the same disguise store." 

Both of us laughed, and Josh groaned sleepily against me. He shifted again, his arm sliding up to my shoulder, and he rubbed at his eyes. 

"Jack? Who are you talking to?" he asked, not opening his eyes yet as he rubbed his face sleepily against my arm. I leaned over, kissing him on the forehead, as he looked up. "Oh, Kevin, hi." 

"Hi," Kevin said, squinting as he seemed to catch a little of the reservation I heard in Josh's tone. It wasn't unfriendly, just hesitant, and I knew what Josh was thinking. 

"Kevin's here waiting for a plane," I said quickly. "By himself." 

"Oh," Josh said, smiling a little wider now. "It's good to see you. How have you been?" 

"Pretty good, actually," Kevin answered, smiling back. He had really good teeth, and his smile lit up his face. "I've been kind of busy, but, you know, my life hasn't been quite as exciting as yours lately. Congratulations, both of you." 

"Thanks," we said together. I giggled, and Josh leaned over and kissed me, twining his fingers through mine. 

"Still enjoying the honeymoon?" Kevin asked. Both of us blushed, and he grinned. "Yeah, I remember that. I saw some shots of the wedding in a magazine. It looked really nice." 

"It was," I said, squeezing Josh's hand. "Everything was beautiful." 

"Because Jack was there," Josh added, letting go of my hand to put his arm around me. 

"So, where are you guys going?" Kevin asked. "I'm heading to LA." 

"Colorado," Josh answered. "Honeymoon, part two." 

"Ahhh," Kevin said, nodding. "What are you guys going to do?" 

Josh looked at me, wondering what he should say, and how much we should share. Kevin seemed nice, but just the thought of his band bothered me, and I could tell Josh was a little uncomfortable, too. Maybe it was a little prejudiced of us both, but he was the third Backstreet Boy I'd met, and the last two hadn't turned out to be anyone I wanted to know. Kevin seemed fairly innocuous, just making idle chatter with an acquaintance, and he and Josh were more or less equals on the celebrity scale, so they had a lot in common. It had taken us long enough to tell our friends about my parentage. I wasn't about to just lay it out for an almost complete stranger in an airport lounge, especially not one who worked so closely with two people who had injured my friends so badly. 

"We're going to look up some family," I said, shrugging. It wasn't a lie, so I didn't feel too bad. 

Before we could say anything else, Andrew appeared at our side, holding a cup. He also had a bottled water, which he handed to Josh, and a Mountain Dew, which he held out for me as we both nodded and thanked him. On seeing him approach, Kevin's bodyguard quickly stood, but Kevin motioned him back into his seat, giving a little shake of his head. 

"Andrew, do you know Kevin Richardson?" Josh asked. "Of the Backstreet Boys?" 

"Nice to meet you," Andrew said quickly, shaking his hand. He turned back to us, more or less ignoring Kevin. I guess if you meet enough famous people it stops being a thrill. "The girl at the counter says that it's going to be at least another hour or two before they're cleared to fly again." 

Josh and I both winced at the same time. 

"Are you sure?" I asked. 

"I do speak English, yes," Andrew answered, and I blushed a little. 

"Sorry," I said, smiling. I turned to Josh as Kevin sighed and walked over to his bodyguard. "What do you want to do?" 

"I'm kind of tired, Jack," Josh answered, frowning a little. "I know this is your half of the trip, so if you want to wait and fly out tonight, I'm ok with that. I mean, it's not like I have trouble sleeping at the airport." 

"That's true," I said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Why don't we go check into the nearest hotel, and fly out tomorrow? We can stop at the desk on our way out and change our tickets over. Do you want to see any of the city?" 

"I've been here before," Josh said. "I'd really rather just have a quiet night with you, unless you want to get a car and go see the city." 

"I think I'd rather stay in, too," I said, shrugging. "Let's go get checked into the hotel." 

Andrew stood patiently as Josh and I collected our carryon bags, tucking everything back in. Josh pulled his hat back on, and held his sunglasses as he waited for me to finish. I slung my bag over my shoulder, and we both turned to Kevin. 

"It was nice meeting you again," I said, shaking his hand. 

"I'm sure I'll see you somewhere," Josh said, shaking his hand as well. 

"Yeah, you guys, too," Kevin said. "Congratulations again, and enjoy the rest of the honeymoon." 

He waved as we walked off hand in hand, Andrew trailing along at Josh's side. We got the tickets transferred over, and took the airport shuttle to the hotel. There was no reclaiming our bags, as the airport insisted it would be easier for us to just get them tomorrow, so we bought some basic supplies at the hotel gift shop and decided that we would just wash our underwear in the sink and wear the same clothes tomorrow. I wondered if we should start carrying spare outfits in our carryons, since the airline could lose your luggage at any time, but Josh didn't seem to think it was a big deal. Josh looked around our hotel room a little dubiously, and I had to agree that it was a little small. 

"Sorry for the accommodations, Mr. Big Time Celebrity Pop Star," I said, sitting on the painfully hard mattress. "I know that you're used to suites and silk sheets, but, you know, this is the kind of room that us common folk are used to staying in, down below your lofty heights." 

Josh grinned at me. 

"You know, Jack," Josh began, standing with his hands on his hips as I sat innocently on the bed. "We stayed in rooms like this when I was little, and back before we were big, huge stars. If you saw some of the places we stayed at in Europe, or back when we were getting started out and playing in malls and stuff, you'd die." 

"Somehow I doubt that," I said. "I mean, when I was in college and stuff, we stayed in some pretty crappy rooms." 

"So we're going to fight about who stayed in worse rooms?" Josh asked, kicking off his shoes. 

"Did you have a better idea?" I asked, untying my shoes. It wasn't really late enough for dinner yet, and I wondered if Josh was thinking what I was thinking. 

"Actually, I did kind of have an idea," he said, walking toward the bed. Before I could say anything he suddenly leapt up, crashing down on top of me. "Bonzai!" 

I screamed and laughed, batting playfully at him as he began to tickle me, his hands scrabbling up and down my ribs. We rolled around, almost falling off of the bed, as he continued to tickle me, and I drummed my feet on the mattress as I squirmed and struggled, laughing too hard to get away. I managed to get my hand free to grab one of the pillows, and I clobbered him over the head with it. Before he could recover I rolled over, on top of him, and walloped him with it again. 

"That's for tackling me!" Whap! Whap! "And that's for tickling me! Who's the boss now, huh? Who's your daddy?" 

"Jack, stop!" Josh laughed from below me. His voice changed, and he suddenly stopped laughing. "Stop! You're hurting me!" 

"Am I?" I asked suddenly, pausing. I slid the pillow aside and was about to apologize, but then saw his grinning face below me. 

"No!" he answered, grabbing my wrists. 

He bucked, arching his back like a fish flopping on the beach, and rolled me over, ending up on top again. I struggled beneath him, but he had his legs on either side of mine, and he stretched my arms out to either side, holding them to the mattress. His face was right above mine, both of us breathing hard, and he grinned down at me. His eyes were sparkling as his hair hung down, disheveled, over his forehead. 

"So, you like to hit people with pillows, do you?" Josh asked, licking his lips. 

"Only people who tickle me," I answered defiantly, still trying to squirm out of his grip. He smiled as if he was effortlessly holding me in place, but I could feel him straining. 

"And what was that you were saying?" Josh asked, pressing his groin down to mine. On the one hand, he was using it to hold me down, but on the other I could feel his rapidly swelling cock against mine. "I believe you were asking who my daddy was? Was that it? Who's your daddy, Jackson Parker Springer Chasez?" 

"Not you, Joshua Scott Chasez Springer," I answered, shaking my head. Both of us were right on the verge of laughing again, using matching teasing tones. 

"That's not what I think," Josh said, leaning in closer. His nose brushed mine as his eyes locked onto my own, right above me. "I think there's only one daddy in here, Jackie, and that's Big Daddy." 

"Oh yeah?" I asked, almost getting a hand free. 

"Yeah," Josh answered. "But maybe you need some convincing." 

Before I could think of another snappy comeback he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I was getting more and more used to the feeling of his smooth chin, and had decided that I liked it a lot more than the beard. His tongue, warm and soft, slid over my lips, and then gently inside, probing my mouth. I blinked, but his eyes stayed open the entire time, watching me. He pulled back, but then leaned down, pressing his mouth more firmly to mine, and I felt his teeth through his lips, pushing against my own. His tongue snaked into my mouth again, more insistently, exploring every hollow, tasting me, and when he finally pulled back again I felt empty, staring up at him in need. 

"How was that?" he asked, his voice low and husky. 

"I think I might need some more convincing," I said. 

I stretched my tongue out, sliding it over his bottom lip, and he nipped at it playfully, trying to catch it with his mouth. Giving up, he brought his mouth down to mine again, and our tongues fought in the closed space, both of us moaning a little. Our mouths vibrated against each other, our tongues sliding smoothly over each other like eels, and I savored the unique taste of Josh's mouth, inhaling his scent, luxuriating in the feeling of his soft lips gently massaging my own. He pulled back, purring, letting out that low, contented sound he made when he was turned on, a noise that wasn't quite a moan. It was a sound I loved to hear, especially knowing that I helped create it. 

He let go of my wrists and sat up. Grabbing the bottom of his shirt with both hands, he rolled it up over his head in the smooth, torso baring motion that I'd seen a thousand times in sex scenes in movies. When his head slid out from under the fabric, framed by his upraised tanned arms, he smiled at me again, but it wasn't his playful, mischievous smile. Now it was a glazed, flushed smile of lust and want, and he reached down and grabbed my shirt. I leaned up a little from the mattress, letting him slide it over my head, and then he threw it to the floor with his. Dropping back down, his hot, hard chest scraped against mine as he began to kiss me again. He held my head with his hands, turning my face toward his, his fingers on my jaw, pressing at my cheeks to keep my mouth open. My eyes were closed, and I felt his nose brushing mine as he lifted off my mouth again and buried his face under my chin. 

There were parts of Josh's body that I loved, his hands, his nipples, the muscles of his back, and it was safe to say that he was in love with my neck. Any time we started kissing Josh's head ended up below my chin, and some days it seemed like I was carrying more hickeys around than a squad of junior high cheerleaders. Josh liked to run his lips up and down my skin, and he would scrape his teeth along my jugular, nipping at my neck like a vampire. When I moaned and sighed, my neck vibrating, he got even more turned on, and would respond with more fervor, sucking and licking and almost biting at me. He would turn my chin back and forth, diving from one side of my neck to the other, and all I could do was twine my fingers through his hair and pull him against me, groaning. 

When he was done consuming and orally worshipping my neck Josh began to slowly slide down my body, dragging his mouth across my collarbones. He grabbed my arm and jerked it up, burying his face in my armpit. I'd never done this to him, and hadn't ever had any inclination to, but it felt incredibly hot as he sucked and licked at me there, running his tongue around the edges of the patch of hair, mouthing the entire area with his wide, wet lips. He slid over, across my pec, and brought his mouth to my nipple. He sucked hard at it, swiping his tongue over the tip at the same time, bringing another high pitched whine from me as I replaced my hand on his head. He caught the tip in his teeth and nibbled at it lightly as he continued to suck, his lips in a tight ring around it. I groaned as he sucked and licked his way across my chest to the other nipple, sighing his name as I writhed beneath him. 

Josh began to lick his way lower, opening his mouth wide and caressing my abs with his lips. He was leaving a spit trail all over my chest, guided on by my moans and sighs, and I felt his hands at my belt. He undid it, running the tip of his tongue in a circle around my navel, almost tickling me, and then he began to wash his tongue up and down my abs as he unbuttoned and unzipped my pants. I lifted my ass as he began to tug them down, hooking his fingers in the tops of my boxers, dragging his tongue down the little trail of dark hair below my navel until he came to the head of my cock, dripping and wet. His hands continued to tug at my pants, sliding them down my legs, as he inhaled deeply and then slid his mouth all the way down my cock, pulling it into his throat. My fingers clenched tightly in his hair pulling and twisting it, and my hips bucked up, pressing my pubes against his face. 

I gasped as he pulled off of me, the air in the room cold against my spit soaked cock, and he began to slide back up my body as he tossed my pants and boxers aside. His hands slid up my chest, his curled fingers scratching lightly over my skin, and then they grabbed my face, turning my mouth toward his again. He draped his body on top of me, writhing against me, and I opened my legs a little, letting him slide between. He groaned against me, pressing his fabric covered cock to my naked, hard one. I slid my hands down between us as Josh ground against me in a slow, dry hump and undid his button and zipper. I tried to tug his pants down, but the angle was all wrong, and he didn't seem interested in helping. Instead he just kept driving his tongue into my mouth as his hands slid all over my chest and shoulders. My legs were hooked around him, my socked feet scraping up and down the back of his calves, and I slid my hands down his back and into his pants. Pressing my fingers beneath the waist of his boxer briefs, I cupped his ass, feeling the smooth muscle shift beneath my palms as I pulled him against me. 

Josh pulled off of my mouth again, biting at my neck again as I gasped for air, and then he leaned back, holding himself up with one arm. I rested my hands on his shoulders, clutching at him, digging my fingers in as I tried to pull him back down to me. He gazed down at me, his face flushed, spit glistening around the edges of his mouth, which hung open, and he used his other hand to tug his pants and boxer briefs down. His whole body twisted as he clawed his own clothes off, and his hard cock sprang out, slapping against his abs as he kicked his pants away. They got hung up on one foot, but Josh wasn't interested in getting them all the way off. He just wanted them out of the way, and when they were he grunted and dropped back down on top of me, his throbbing cock grinding against mine, both of them leaking sticky streamers of precum against each other. Josh's body was hot against me, his skin warm velvet, his muscles shifting beneath as I ran my hands possessively over him, and his hands crawled over me in the same way. 

Josh pulled off of my mouth again, catching my bottom lip between his lips and sucking at it before kissing his way over my chin, across my adam's apple, and through the hollow of my throat. He slid down the center of my breastbone, mouthing my chest, and then over my abs, dropping down toward my cock again. He ran his tongue over and around the head, licking and caressing it, and then began to lick up and down my shaft. My hands crawled up from his shoulders to his strong neck, clutching at it, and then I was twining my fingers through his hair again, feeling the sweaty strands slip through my fingers and tangle around them. Josh opened his mouth and began to slide the tight circle of his mouth down my shaft, massaging it with his tongue as he swallowed me again. I pressed my head back into the mattress, my eyes closed, as I gasped his name, feeling my head slide down into his throat. I realized that I wanted him, too, right now, the same way he had me, and I let go of his hair, tugging at his shoulders again. 

"Josh," I whispered. "Turn, baby." 

He understood, and slid back off of my cock as he shifted his body, being careful to keep himself raised above me and not crushing me. I guided his legs as they went past me, figuring that getting kicked in the face would probably kill the mood, and Josh raised himself onto all fours, supporting himself with his arms and legs to keep from suffocating me. I looked up and saw Josh's cock above me, hard and throbbing, and I curled my tongue out, scooping up a drop of salty precum from his slit. Josh let out a high pitched sigh, and then returned his mouth to my cock, sucking just the head in now, washing his tongue around it. I did the same, mirroring his action, swirling my tongue over the spongy dome, tasting his salty lube. As Josh began to slide down my shaft I again followed him, rolling my lips down his, feeling him stretching my jaw open. At the angle we were both at, we easily speared into each other's throats, and I relaxed, feeling Josh slide inside of me. He began to bob up and down on my cock, and I grabbed the backs of his thighs, pulling him toward me in time to his movements. 

Because I was on the bottom, I couldn't really move my head much, so I had to pull at Josh, guiding him, silently urging him to go faster with my clutching hands. Even as I did, he began to work harder and more urgently at my cock, coating it with spit, sucking hard at it. I massaged his shaft with my tongue, sucking in my cheeks around him to create a tight, wet tunnel, and even as I felt him moaning around my cock I realized that I was groaning, too. Josh's chest danced over me, brushing the tops of my abs, and his legs flexed as he thrust in and out of my mouth. Both of us were gasping for breath, loudly sucking in air each time a cock slid far enough out for us to breath, and I could feel that I was close. I knew I would go soon, and I wanted Josh to go with me. I slid my hands further in, my fingers sliding into his ass crack, and I brushed his hole with my fingertip. He yelped around my cock, his hips bucking against me, and before he could recover I jammed a finger inside, pushing toward his prostate. 

Josh's hips jerked against me, and I tried my best to pull back, and taste as much of his seed as I could. I felt his cock jumping in my mouth, felt it throb each time he shot another jet down my throat. He was covered with sweat, and his body trembled above me as he shot. As he recovered, his hips not jerking anymore, he remembered that my cock was still in his mouth, and he redoubled his efforts, sucking and bobbing. He grabbed my balls with one hand and squeezed them, not too hard, but just enough, and I felt myself spasm over the edge. I shot into Josh's mouth as he milked me with his throat, swallowing again and again around my cock. When I finished, Josh pulled off of me, and I felt his softening cock slide out of my mouth. He rolled off of me, and then turned, collapsing next to me on the other pillow. 

"Hey," I said, rolling onto my side. My fingers danced lightly over his sweaty chest as he smiled at me. 

"That was intense," he panted, smiling. 

"Sure was, Big Daddy," I said, laughing. I took his hand, tugging him gently off the bed with me. "Let's go rinse some of this sweat off, and then maybe see about getting some dinner." 

"Where do you want to eat?" Josh asked, following me into the tight confines of the tiny bathroom. 

"There's a restaurant downstairs," I said, turning on the shower. "Why don't we just go there, get something quick, and then come back here and watch TV, or play chess, or something." 

"Sure," Josh agreed, holding the curtain aside for me and then following me into the shower. "I have an idea." 

"Yeah?" I asked, ducking my head under the spray. 

"Let's sneak out to the restaurant," Josh said. "It's just the two of us, and we're staying inside the hotel. As long as we don't split up, we won't be in any danger. Let's not call Andrew." 

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked, a little worried. "Andrew will be pissed if he finds out." 

"Jack, we pay him," Josh said. "I feel like having a nice quiet dinner with you, outside of a hotel room, without having Andrew at our table or the next table, hovering over us. I know we need a bodyguard, but I want some time with you, just being normal." 

"OK," I said. 

When we were done in the shower we dressed again, and then went down to the restaurant. It was a little more crowded than I thought it would be, and the little bar attached to it was packed with people. Josh asked the hostess to please sit us in the back, away from everyone if possible, and pressed some money into her hand. She happily led us to the rear of the restaurant, and left us at the table with our menus. As we looked them over, I thought back to the airport earlier. 

"You know, Kevin seemed pretty nice," I said. 

"Yeah, he always does when I talk to him," Josh said, shrugging, as both of us perused the selections. "He makes me feel a little, I don't know, unsettled, I guess. I mean, I know it's wrong, but I just feel a little unsure of him, because of the others." 

"I know what you mean," I agreed. "He seems ok with us, though." 

"Well, Howie did say that Kevin was ok with him being gay," Josh said, shrugging again. "It was mostly just for the band that they agreed that Howie needed to keep it quiet." 

"I guess it makes sense, kind of," I said. "I'm glad you don't have to live that way, though. Maybe if Howie could be more free, more himself, he wouldn't be like he was. It's really kind of sad." 

"I know," Josh said, reaching out to pat my hand. 

We finished looking over the menus, and gave our orders to the waitress as she came back over. She brought us our drinks, and told us that my soup and Josh's salad would be right out. As she walked away I glanced up, and was surprised to see Kevin approaching our table, apparently also having given his bodyguard the slip. 

"Hey guys," he said, smiling. "I decided to wait for tomorrow, too. I came to grab some dinner, and just thought I'd say hi again, since I keep running into you." 

"Hi," we both said. 

I looked at Josh, raising my eyebrow questioningly, and he gave me a little shrug. I turned back to Kevin. 

"Kevin, do you want to eat with us?" I asked. "I mean, rather than sitting at a table alone?" 

"Are you sure I won't be imposing?" he asked. "I mean, it is your honeymoon." 

"No, really," Josh said, pushing out one of the other chairs with his foot as I motioned for the waitress to come back over. "Have a seat, hang out, order something scary." 

"Thanks, guys," Kevin said, sitting down. He smiled at us, and I smiled at Josh. 

The Backstreet Boys couldn't all be evil, could they? 

 

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