JC's Hitchhiker

 

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CHAPTER 76

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JACK'S POV: 

I leaned on the edge of the boat, wondering again why we'd agreed to this, and then remembering. Josh and I were trying to spend time with Lance and Howie, to get a better feeling for what, if anything, was going on with them, so Josh had chartered this fishing boat, and Lance, an avid hunter, had enthusiastically agreed to come even though he had never been. Howie had never gone, either, but was willing to at least give it a try. So far, though, it wasn't working out so well. Howie was having a good time, but the water was a little choppy, and Lance had spent most of the trip inside, hunched over the toilet in the head, violently seasick. Josh was still down from the talk he'd had at lunchtime yesterday with Justin, which he'd told me about over our rather quiet dinner alone. I knew why Justin was pushing Josh away, but it was hurting Josh a lot, and I wondered again how I could find a way to make them both happy. 

I wasn't really enjoying the trip, either, but it was for entirely different reasons. I just found the whole idea of fishing rather barbaric, and couldn't believe we hadn't been able to think of a single other thing to do as couples. Mini golf? Shopping and a movie? Glass bottomed boat tour? No, we had to go out and inflict pain on something. I wondered if there might be a metaphor in there as Josh came up behind me at the back of the boat, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling the back of my neck. 

"You ok?" he asked, holding me as the warm wind whipped around us. Over on the side Howie grinned in his shorts, taking another sip of his Corona. 

"Yeah, I just can't believe we're doing this," I sighed. 

"We've been all over this," Josh said, nibbling at my ear. I wondered if the captain was watching, and what he must think of this. Then again, it didn't matter. Howie and Lance weren't publicly demonstrative, and Josh and I were out, so we could put our hands all over each other if we wanted to. Then again, we'd done enough of that this morning to keep me happy until we were back on land again, or at least satiated. 

I'd been awakened by the feeling of something warm and wet on my nipple. Blinking, I looked down to see Josh kissing it and running his tongue around it. His eyes were closed, and he was lapping at it like a kid with a lollipop, sending shivers across my chest. He stuck his tongue out, pointing the end, and drew a wet stripe across my chest as his head drifted over to the other nipple, and he began licking and nibbling at that one as well, working diligently until it was as hard and pointedly sensitive as the first. He caught the nub in his teeth, tugging on it a little, and I let out a soft sigh of pleasure. His eyes, blue lakes that I could drown in, popped open as he released the tip of my nipple and grinned at me. 

"Good morning, sleepy," he sighed, staring up at me. The breath from his sigh seemed to caress my wet chest, and I shivered with pleasure. His hand slid down my body, tracing over my abs beneath the sheet, and then Josh discovered that my nipples weren't the only thing that was hard. He wrapped his fingers around my cock and gave it a good, firm squeeze in his silken glove of a hand. "I was waiting for you to get up." 

"Were you?" I asked, grinning. I sighed again, almost squealing a little, as I felt his gently stroking hand squeeze again. He watched my face change and smiled, his arched brows sliding up, his cheeks wrinkling in easy lines. "And you thought you'd just molest me awake?" 

Josh laughed, his hand working a little faster now. His fingers slid up and down my cock, dancing over it like Josh did onstage, darting and touching down before quickly moving on to another part. I felt his palm slide over my cockhead, catching the wetness at the slit and spreading it around, smoothing over the spongy pink top and then sliding down the shaft, easing the passage of his hand as it continued to slide up and down with increasing urgency. My breath caught as I yelped again, feeling a wave of pleasure wash through me again. Josh blew me a kiss, and then his head disappeared beneath the sheets, his hair brushing over my stomach as I felt his nose tickle past my navel. He paused, and I could feel his breath on my cock as it lay flat and hard against me. 

"So, Jack," Josh began, his words fluttering across my sensitive cock. "What was that you were saying about me molesting you?" 

"Fuck what I was saying," I whined, pulling the sheet back so that I could see his eyes, and he could see how urgently in need I was. "Please, Josh?" 

He giggled, grinning at me as his head hovered just above my crotch. 

"Since you asked so nicely," he sighed, his tongue stretching out like a wet finger to slide up my shaft, tracing the thick tube running up the underside. 

I yelped, wincing with lust, my hips pushing up toward him as my head dropped back. That one touch, so light and wet, was like fire. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the spot just below my slit, where all of the nerves seemed to come together at once, and then, when he heard me sigh again, he began to run his tongue lightly around the edge of my head. He began to lick at the head, washing over it, leaning in every few seconds to kiss it and suck just the head into his mouth for a moment. I watched his lips fold down over and over, stretched wide open, as his blue eyes blazed up at my green ones, glistening and shining. His face was flushed with lust and desire, but his eyes stared up at me with love. 

"Oh, Josh," I sighed, pushing up with my hips as he finally brought the whole thing into his mouth. 

He began to hum, his head bobbing in my crotch as his tongue washed over and around me. The vibration coursed through me, adding to the sensations of his warm, wet mouth sucking at me. I buried my hands in his hair as he slid his up and down my legs, caressing my thighs absently, idly, as he concentrated on what he was doing. I had an urge to laugh when I realized he was humming "Bye Bye Bye", but somehow, instead of being amusing, it was oddly erotic, and I wondered if next time he was singing it on stage he'd be thinking of me in his mouth, thrusting softly as he folded his cheeks and tongue around my cock. 

"Josh," I whined, panting. 

Josh grinning up at me, his lips stretched around my wet shaft, which slid through them as he pulled off of me, holding the head in his mouth again, washing his tongue across it again before letting it pop out of his mouth with a soft kissing noise. 

"Enjoying your alarm clock?" he asked, smiling. A streamer of spit trailed from his lips and down his chin. I wondered if it was just spit, or if some of my juice was mixed in. 

"Oh, God, Josh, I love you," I sighed as his tongue flicked out again to wash over my balls, rolling them around in my sack as he softly mouthed them. 

"I love you, too," he said, and then opened his mouth and slid it over my cock again. 

He been slow before, just sort of gently sucking and bobbing, but now he was urgently working at me, flicking his tongue across the head almost roughly, pursing his lips around the shaft. He began to tug at my balls a little with one hand as he slid the other up my chest, palm down, pushing and pressing at me before it caught one of my nipples, pinching and pulling at it. Josh was still humming now, not singing, but moaning, in time with mine, and suddenly I couldn't breath, couldn't think. My arms locked, pressing Josh's head down, as stars burst behind my closed lids. My whole body locked, like one muscle clenching, and my hips jerked up toward Josh's face as I felt myself shooting cum into his mouth. 

Josh slid up the bed, laying on his side and propping his head up with his arm, smiling at me as he watched me pant and catch my breath. He trailed his other hand up and down my chest, playing with my abs, brushing a nipple, resting it on my pec to feel my heartbeat. I looked over and saw a smooth, completely peaceful expression on his face, but felt a little uncomfortable under his stare. 

"What?" I asked, blushing. 

"You're just so beautiful," he said, stroking his hand over my torso. He slid it up my neck to stroke the side of my face, smoothing my hair off of my forehead. I'd kept it in the longer style Vlada had trimmed it into, although Joey claimed jokingly that I was just trying to look more like Josh. "I love you so much." 

Josh leaned over, rolling, his naked body falling lightly across mine as he kissed me. His little beard scraped my chin, as it always did, and I wondered what Joey would say if I grew one, too. Josh's lips pressed against mine, soft and smooth, and his tongue pushed its way into my mouth, dipping in lightly, darting around to press against mine. I caught the slightest little tang of my cum, but only a taste. Josh pulled back, coming up for air, but then leaned in and resumed kissing me softly, the only sounds in the room our breathing as he held the side of my face with his hand. I trailed my hands up and down his smooth, firm back, feeling the muscles gliding beneath his warm, tanned skin, and I grabbed his shoulders and rolled him over, pressing him into the mattress as I lay atop him. 

"Hey," he said, watching me. "What are you doing?" 

"Who says you get to have all the fun?" I asked, dropping one hand down to his cock, which was hard and throbbing. He gasped as I began to slowly jerk him off. "I thought maybe I'd take care of you, and, you know, repay you for the wake up call, and then we could hop in the shower and get on with our day." 

"Wow, that's romantic," he sighed, struggling to keep his voice level. He was making these little gasping sounds that I found so sexy as I nuzzled the side of his neck, inhaling his fresh sent and kissing the corded muscles as my other hand continued to slowly jerk him off. "Just take care of me and get on with our day? What am I, the next thing on your to-do list?" 

He was grinning as he said it, and I looked up and kissed him on the mouth. 

"Everything on my to-do list doesn't get this kind of extra attention," I whispered. 

I kissed him again, a deep, wet kiss this time, pressing my tongue into his mouth, watching his eyes slide closed as he moaned contentedly. My hand was going a little faster now, sliding up and down the velvet hardness of his cock, squeezing lightly, and his hips started rolling up toward my hand, just a little, but a definite movement. Josh had a hand on my head now, kissing me with equal fervor, pulling my head down to his as his tongue fought with mine. His eyes were still closed, and he was purring softly into my mouth, so he didn't notice my free hand darting into the top drawer of the nightstand as my other hand continued to slide up and down his now dropping cock. 

Sliding a little, I let go of Josh's cock and pressed my entire body to his, feeling his cock grind into my abs as I lay on him, still kissing him, feeling him push his smooth body against mine. Our chests pressed together, nipples brushing each other, and I felt Josh's hands on my ass, squeezing, pulling it toward him as our cocks ground together, trapped between our bodies. We were both moaning and panting now, starting to work up a little bit of a sweat, and our slick torsos slid over each other easily. My hands, free for the moment, tore the condom open and unscrewed the lube, and then I lifted myself up a little so that I could reach Josh's cock again. His eyes slid open as I rolled the condom down over him, and he tried to break our kiss as I began to smear him with lube. Pulling back, I held his lower lip in my teeth, finally letting it go as he blinked at me, his face still contracting in little gasping waves as my hand stroked him. 

"Jack, what?" he gasped. 

"Going for a ride," I whispered, kissing him again as I straddled him, sliding my legs open. 

I felt Josh's cock pressing against my ass, and I relaxed a little, pushing down. He gasped as the head popped in, and then I shifted, rearing up, so that his entire cock slid into me as I sat down on it. I'm not sure which of us gasped louder, but when I looked down at Josh, prone on the bed as I sat on my folded legs above him, I could see that he was definitely enjoying himself. His whole body was tensed up, urgent and straining, even though neither of us had moved yet, and his face had the mix of lust and quiet reverence that he always wore when we were together. Josh stared up at me, his mouth hanging open, his breath already coming in urgent pants, and his eyes squeezed closed as I flexed around his cock, contracting. I began to bounce a little, flexing my legs carefully, feeling him slide in and out of me. 

"Oh, Jack," he sighed, sprawled beneath me. 

I looked down, and realized this was just the way I liked to see him. He was slick with sweat, his hair pushed back off of his forehead, his eyes wide and warm. Josh's mouth hung open a little, his tongue flicking out every few seconds to wet his lips, and his neck flexed in time with the rest of his body, not tightly, the cords suggesting themselves subtly as he pushed up into me. His abs were flexing from smooth flatness to rippled crunch, and his pecs shifted like wings as he brought his hands to my hips, guiding me a little, his strong arms flexing. I couldn't see his legs, but felt them shifting as he folded them a little, using them to lift himself up into me on each thrust. I ran my hands up and down his chest, playing with his nipples, or just scratching his pecs lightly, and was rewarded with urgent yelps each time I did. He stared up at me, his face smooth and flushed, his eyes narrowing each time he thrust into me. 

"You are so beautiful," I sighed, my own breath panting and urgent as well. 

"I love you," he panted, starting to speed up a little. 

I ran my hands down over his arms, caressing them as they kept their hold on me, running my fingers through the soft brown hair on his forearms, tracing the veins, feeling the muscles dance beneath his skin. His hands climbed up off of my hips to slide over my abs, and caress my chest. He began to play with my nipples as well, tracing his fingers around them, flicking his thumbs over the nubs, and then he slid his hands up my neck to caress the sides of my face. One of his fingers brushed over my wet bottom lip, and I flicked my tongue out, licking over his fingertip. He pushed his finger inside, and I began to suck it, working my tongue over it like I had worked over his cock. Josh began to thrust harder, his pants turning into sharp intakes of breath, yelps of pleasure, and I knew he was close. His finger slid from my mouth with a wet pop, and his hands dropped back down to my hips sliding around to grip my flexing asscheeks forcefully. 

Josh began to thrust up harder now, faster, and his body began to tense up again, the muscles standing out, flexing longer and harder each time he pushed himself into me. His eyes closed, and he pressed his head back into the pillows, groaning in little high pitched screams. I tossed my own head back as well, riding him harder, slamming down onto him as I clenched tightly around him. Finally he let out a little scream, and his whole body locked as his hands squeezed my hips convulsively, the fingers pressing in almost painfully. I felt his hips jerk beneath me as he fought to catch his breath, and then, when I thought he was done, I felt him jerk again. Leaving him inside me, I stayed on top of him, caressing his chest as he caught his breath and stared up at me. 

"I love you," he sighed, wincing as he slid out of me and I reached for the tissues. 

"I love you, too," I answered, leaning down to kiss him as I pulled the condom off and cleaned him up. "Let's hit the showers." 

The boat hit another swell, startling me out of my recollection of the morning. Josh's arms tightened around me as I stepped back, leaning into him to keep my footing. 

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, staring with me out at the horizon, blue on blue. 

"This morning," I answered, smiling, and felt him laugh against me. 

"Figures," he said. "I love you, Jack, so much." 

"I know," I answered. "I love you, too, but we're neglecting our guests." 

We turned to see Howie checking one of the rigs. The fishing pole was all set, sitting in its holder as the line trailed out behind the boat. If one of them caught something, some poor fish, the rig would lock, and whoever wanted to try landing it would have to go over and take the pole. Josh and Howie seemed very into it, but I was vaguely disgusted by the whole thing. I ate fish, and was well aware of where it came from, but the idea of fishing for sport, and deliberately inflicting pain on another creature for fun, held no attraction for me. Lance and I had several similar discussions about hunting, and no matter how many times he explained about population control and venerable family traditions from his Mississippi hunting camp I still couldn't help but consider the whole thing vaguely cruel. 

"Any hits?" Josh asked, standing by Howie. 

"No, not for a while," Howie answered, shrugging. "The captain said maybe it's too choppy, and that no one's really getting anything today." 

"Good," I said, and they both looked at me. Josh had this expression of total exasperation on his face, as if he couldn't believe I was bringing this up again, but I just couldn't seem to let it go. 

"Again?" Howie asked, smiling. "Jack, it's not that bad, and we're throwing them back." 

"That doesn't matter," I said, fishing a wine cooler out of the cooler. Now that my heart was considered stabilized and I was off the medicine, I was allowed to drink and have caffeine again. "This is just mean." 

"Oh, God," Josh sighed, shaking his head, but smiling. "Jack for the ethical treatment of animals. Babe, please, let it go and just have some fun." 

"I am having fun," I said, watching the two of them stand almost identically, arms crossed, in their shorts and t-shirts. "I'm enjoying a nice day on the water with my boyfriend and our friends, but I'm not hurting anyone to make it possible." 

"Jack, we're not hurting the fish," Howie protested. 

"Really?" I asked sarcastically. "Picture this, then, Howie. You're at the brunch buffet back there at the resort, minding your own business, loading up your plate, drifting along pretty hungry. You bite into your pancake, thinking 'Mmmmm, this is good,' and then something sharp inside your pancake stabs through your lip and starts pulling on you really hard." 

Josh shook his head, but Howie winced. I remembered that he was squeamish around blood, and figured my words might be having some effect. 

"Then, no matter how much you struggle, you are pulled against your will by the mouth into an atmosphere where you can't even breathe," I continued, hoping that Howie was seeing all of this. Josh shook his head, rolling his eyes at the sky. "As you flop spastically, your fight for life making you completely forget the pain of being impaled through the lip, some alien creature jams his fingers into your lungs so he can hold you up and have a picture taken. Then he rips the hook out of your lip and throws you back into the buffet line, where you are too exhausted and in too much pain to do much else with your day." 

"Wow," Howie sighed, looking thoughtful. 

"Yeah, Jack," Josh began, smirking. "You've really given us a lot to think about. It's a good thing the cow your belt is made from died peacefully of natural causes." 

Before I could make a witty retort one of the lines popped loudly, and Josh and Howie both raced over to the pole, screaming, "It's mine!" I shook my head, seeing that I'd had no effect at all. 

"Why do I even bother speaking?" I asked rhetorically. "I'm going to the head to check on Lance." 

"OK," Josh said, smiling at me. 

The captain came down to help Howie into the deck chair so that he could try to land whatever poor creature had been hungry enough to bite our hook. For deep sea fishing there was a whole apparatus you had to climb into, because the fish were so big and could pull you off of the boat. The whole thing looked like something from a medieval torture chamber, or a big city S&M club, and I shook my head again, wondering if our boat would be able to survive an attack by Jaws, or if I'd be able to convince the killer shark that I hadn't been in favor of this to begin with. I walked down the short hallway to the closed door of the head, and knocked softly. 

"Lance?" I asked, tapping. "It's Jack. Can I come in?" 

"Yeah," he answered weakly. 

When I opened the door Lance was sitting on the floor, his knees drawn up to his chest as he sat with his eyes closed and his head back. He was pale, and covered with a thin sheen of sweat, looking sickly under the lights. I sat across from him, making sure I wasn't blocking his access to the toilet or in the path of any streams of vomit that might miss the bowl. 

"How are you feeling?" I asked, watching him press a wet washcloth to his forehead. 

"I can't believe I'm still throwing up," he said, not opening his eyes. "I don't usually get seasick, but it's just, you know, the water's really choppy today." 

"Maybe if you were up on the deck, in the air?" I suggested. "I've always been told that it helps if you can see the horizon." 

Lance shook his head violently. 

"No," he whispered. "Every time the boat lurches I feel like I'm going to fall off. Is everyone else ok?" 

"Yeah," I sighed. "Howie and Josh are busy torturing something in the name of sport right now." 

Lance smiled weakly, his green eyes fluttering open. 

"Not this again, Jack," he said, chuckling. 

"Since you're not at full strength I'll spare you the debate," I said. "Have you had anything to drink?" 

"No," he answered, closing his eyes again. "I don't want to, you know, toss it up again." 

The boat lurched to starboard and one of Lance's hands whipped out, gripping the edge of the sink in a white-knuckled grip as he loudly inhaled and exhaled, breathing deeply and trying to keep himself under control. I didn't talk to him until the boat steadied again, and it appeared that he was ok. 

"I'm just worried that you might, I don't know, dehydrate or something," I said, shrugging. "Will you be ok once we get back on land?" 

"Yeah, I think so," he answered, still not opening his eyes, breathing in and out with all the deliberate concentration of a woman in labor. 

"Maybe we should take the boat back in?" I suggested. "I mean, I know Josh and Howie are having fun, but I don't think you should have to sit in here throwing up all day." 

"No!" Lance said quickly, grabbing my arm as I started to stand. 

"Lance?" I asked, sitting back down. 

"I don't want to ruin everyone else's day," he said, staring at me urgently. He looked almost panicked. "I mean, everyone's having a good time. I don't want to ruin that. I don't want anyone to get mad." 

"Lance, no one will get mad if we go back in because you're sick," I said, shrugging. "Josh and I won't care, and I'm sure Howie won't mind, either." 

"No, please," Lance said. "Please, if Howie's happy, please don't say anything. He's just so upset all the time, Jack. He's not really enjoying this vacation, Jack, not as much as I thought he would. If he's having a good day, please, I don't want to ruin it. Not because of me." 

"Lance, why is Howie so upset?" I asked, swallowing. I was starting to get a really bad feeling about this. 

"It's not his fault," Lance said quickly, looking away. 

"Yeah, but he shouldn't let Justin and Nick get to him so much," I said, shrugging. "Then again, I think the three of them just pick fights with each other on purpose, no matter whose fault it is." 

"I know whose fault it is," Lance said, looking down again sadly. 

"Lance?" I asked. "Lance, are you still going to therapy?" 

"No," he answered, shaking his head, not looking at me. "Howie doesn't think I need it anymore." 

"Lance, is everything ok?" I asked, feeling a little worried now. 

Lance looked up at me, his eyes watering, and I thought for a second that he was going to say something really terrible. His face was creased in panic, and then he lunged for the toilet again and began vomiting noisily into the bowl. I started running my hand in circles over his back, holding the washcloth ready so that he could wipe his mouth when he was done. When he was finished he took the washcloth and turned away, dabbing at his face and getting himself under control, and I tried to look away to give him his privacy. I noticed that the bottom of his t-shirt was riding up a little, and saw a bright red mark standing out on the stark white of his lower back. 

"Lance?" I asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Lance, what happened to your back?" 

"Nothing," he said, turning quickly, tugging his shirt back down. He reached for a bottle of water to rinse his mouth out, spitting it into the bowl. 

"Lance, I just saw a red mark on there," I said. "Please, Lance, show me your back." 

"It's nothing," he said, sliding away from me, shaking his head. He glanced nervously toward the bathroom door. "Jack, I don't want to tell you. It's, you know, it's kind of embarrassing." 

"Lance, what's on your back?" I asked again, my heart fluttering nervously. 

"It's, um, it's a belt mark, " he said, staring intently at me. 

"What?" I blurted. "Lance, who hit you with a belt? Tell me!" 

Lance grabbed my hands, pulling me back down to the floor. 

"No, Jack, please," he said, shaking his head. "You're overreacting. It's not what you think." 

"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I asked carefully. 

"Jack, have you and Josh ever tried anything, you know, kinky?" Lance asked, almost whispering. 

"Well, um, we did have that kinky lovin' kit that Joey and Chris made us," I said, blushing. Lance grinned weakly. "And this one time, when we first got together, Josh blindfolded me and tied me to the bed, but don't you dare tell him I told you this." 

"No, but you can't tell Howie I told you this, either," Lance said quickly. "We were, um, you know, we were trying something a little different, and Howie hit me a little too hard with the belt." 

He looked stricken, but I burst out laughing. I didn't mean to, but I was just so relieved. 

"Oh, Jesus, Lance," I said, and he started laughing, too. "Are you ok?" 

"Yeah," he answered, shaking his head. "Howie and I put some lotion on it." 

"Oh, my God, I can't believe you hurt yourself playing S&M games," I said, giggling. It was almost as bad as the time Josh and I broke the dining room table having sex on it. 

"Please don't tell Howie I told you," Lance said, still holding my hands. "He doesn't like it when I talk about, you know, bedroom stuff." 

"No, Lance, I won't say anything," I said. "I just can't believe that's what happened. For a second I thought, maybe." 

"Thought what?" Lance asked, because I didn't continue. 

"Never mind," I said, shaking my head. "It was stupid." 

There was a knock at the door. 

"Lance? Jack?" Howie asked. 

I stood, pulling the door open. Howie looked past me to Lance. 

"Hey, baby," he said, smiling. Lance smiled up at him, and I wondered again how I could have thought anything was wrong between the two of them when their eyes lit up like that. "I caught a fish. Wanna come see?" 

"I don't know," Lance began, but Howie bent down and took his arm. 

"Come on, the air will be good for you," Howie said, tugging a little. Lance stood a little shakily, but at least Howie had gotten him moving, something I hadn't been able to do. They walked out onto the deck, Lance gripping Howie unsteadily, and I waited until they were clear before I rejoined Josh, who was chatting on his phone with someone. 

"Hey," I said, as he wrapped an arm around me. I kissed him on the phone-free cheek. 

"Hey," he said, pulling me against him. "Chris wants to know if we want to go out clubbing tonight." 

"Sure," I answered, thinking about the talk I'd just had with Lance. I looked over to where Howie was still tightly holding Lance's arm, brushing his hair back carefully and asking if he was ok. The two of them looked so much in love I felt guilty for what I'd been thinking. 

"Everything ok?" Josh asked, his eyes searching my face as his brows shifted together. 

"Yeah, fine," I said, smiling. I kissed him again as he told Chris goodbye and hung up the phone. 

"Hey, you guys, you want to go out tonight?" Josh asked, as Lance and Howie walked carefully over to us, Lance's knees shaking as the boat lurched again. 

"Sure," Howie answered, smiling. 

Lance leaned forward and threw up on my shoes. 

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CHAPTER 77

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JACK'S POV: 

"Hey, what happened to the outfit I laid out for you?" Josh asked as I stood in front of the closet, trying to find shoes. 

I turned around and grinned at him. Josh was standing in front of the bathroom sink, filling his hair with gel or something from one of the many bottles on the counter, in socks and a pair of jeans with so many rips you could almost see everything. His tanned, muscled torso, stretching above the low riding waist, glistened faintly under the bright bathroom lights. His necklace dipped down to the top of the valley between his pecs. 

"The outfit you laid out for me was sparkly," I said, shaking my head. "I felt like a fishing lure, so I switched shirts." 

"The outfit I picked out for you made a statement," Josh said, smiling at me in the mirror as he carefully teased out individual strands of hair. 

"Vegas showgirl?" I asked, still hunting for shoes that went with this. 

"As opposed to the statement that outfit makes," Josh said, shrugging. I looked up, an eyebrow raised, and he read the question off of my face. "Oh, Jack, don't worry. It says 'sexy'. Sexy librarian." 

"Jerk," I said, shaking my head. "At least my outfit doesn't say, 'Hey, look at my ass, 'cause you can almost see my crack through all the rips in these jeans.' Wanna see Josh's brown eye wink at you? Drop something on the floor in front of him. Have you seen my black shoes? The ones with the buckles?" 

"Maybe Lance threw up on them," Josh said, laughing. 

"You're not funny," I said, smothering my own giggles. 

Lance had been mortified at throwing up on my feet, and burst into tears before any of us could say anything. Howie pulled him back into the head, and they stayed in there for about twenty minutes while Josh splashed buckets of water onto my feet and the captain laughed heartily. Howie stepped out of the head, his face neutral, leading Lance by the hand. Lance's face was red, but he wasn't crying, and he meekly apologized and offered to buy me new shoes. I demurred, and also shot down the suggestion that we return to port, unless Lance wanted to go. Howie and Josh went back to fishing, and I spent the rest of the cruise barefoot, slowly feeding Lance pretzels while I waited for my shoes to dry. Every few seconds the captain would look at them, sitting wet in the corner of the deck, and snicker, and I thought about asking Lance to throw up on him, too. 

"Sorry, you're right," Josh said, walking over to me. He fluffed my collar a little, straightening it, and then undid the top two buttons of my shirt. I reached up to refasten them, and he gently took my hands, smiling as he leaned forward to kiss me on the face. "I undid those for a reason. I expect you to leave them undone." 

"Really?" I asked, sliding my hands out of his. I hooked my fingers into his belt loops, pulling his hips up against me as I kissed him again. "And what if I started undoing buttons, too? What would you do then?" 

"What buttons?" he asked, grinning at me. I slid my hand around and began undoing the front of his jeans. 

"These," I said, tugging open the button fly. I dropped to my knees, pulling the ripped jeans down with me. Josh looked down as I stared at his zebra print briefs, holding in giggles. "These are cute." 

"I needed something small," Josh said, shrugging. "If I wore boxer briefs, you'd be able to see them through the rips in the legs." 

"And plain white just wouldn't be you," I said, losing my battle. I giggled. 

"Jack, Chris'll be here in a minute," Josh said, staring down at me. "We don't have time for this." 

"I think we should make time, " I said, grabbing his briefs and jerking them down. His cock was plump, but not hard. I opened my mouth and pulled him inside as he gasped. 

"Oh, Jack," Josh sighed, grabbing my shoulders. His soft fingers dug into my flesh as he gasped again, tossing his head back. 

I nursed on his cock, sucking hard as I washed my tongue over it. Josh tasted fresh and clean, a little wet from the shower, and was warm and silky on my tongue. I smiled, sucking harder as I felt him pressing at my throat, and I began to rock back and forth, letting his shaft slide in and out of my mouth. Josh's hands fluttered over my face, stroking the sides, brushing my hair back so he could see my eyes. Josh stared down at me, his mouth hanging open as he sighed contentedly, and I leaned forward, swallowing hard and pulling him into my throat. 

"Oh, God," he gasped, his breath coming faster now. 

I stared up at him, watching his chest heave, and his abs flex and release. His fingers were on my shoulders again, gripping, not pulling me down but just holding on, and his arms bulged as he tightened his grip. I ran my hands up and down his legs, squeezing the hard rounded bulge of his calves, roaming up over the firm, sinewy muscle of his thighs. I squeezed his ass as I pulled him forward again, swallowing his cock as I buried my face in his soft, curly brown pubes, his balls colliding with my chin as they hung, low and full, in his crinkly sack. As I stared up at him his blue eyes were wide, fixed on mine as his mouth hung open, and his tongue slid out to wet his lips. Each time he thrust forward he gasped urgently, and a wave passed over his face as pleasure surged through him. I was painfully hard in my tight leather pants, but didn't want to let go of him to take care of myself. I was too in love with the firm pliability of his soft, silky skin to stop touching it. 

"Jack, Jack," he sighed breathlessly, tiny beads of sweat starting to break out on his forehead. His eyes weren't just squinting on his thrusts now, they were squeezing closed, and his fingers tightened on my shoulders each time I swallowed him. 

We heard a knock at the door, and Josh tried to pull back to answer it, but I wasn't moving. I kept my hands locked on his ass, and started to bob my head faster, sucking harder. 

"Jack," Josh whispered urgently, his voice high and breathless. "We have to, have to, get that." 

"Mmm mmm," I answered negatively, speeding up even more. 

I felt the head of his cock pushing at the back of my throat again, and, taking a deep breath, I pulled him all the way inside. As the person at the door knocked again Josh's hands tensed, his fingers digging into my shoulders, and he let out a loud, strangled cry. I felt his hips jerking, and could feel his cock pulsing on my tongue as he shot into my throat. When he was done I quickly pulled off of him as he sat on the bed, gasping for breath. 

"I better get that," I said, wiping the spit away from my mouth with the back of my hand as I stood. 

Before I could step toward the door Josh grabbed me, spinning me back toward him and crushing me against his heaving chest as he jammed his tongue into my mouth, pressing his lips urgently to mine. I moaned against him, and then he pulled back, our mouths parting with a wet, sucking noise. 

"I love you," he sighed. 

"I love you, too," I said, grinning as I slid out of his arms. "Finish getting dressed, ok?" 

"Yeah," he panted, bending down to pull his pants up. 

I trotted across the cottage to pull the door open, finding Joey and Chris on the doorstep. They both grinned at me. 

"Took you long enough," Chris said. 

"Yeah, what were you guys doing?" Joey asked, trying to see past me. 

"Nothing?" I answered uncertainly. 

Joey and Chris grinned and pushed their way inside. 

"You two are like rabbits," Chris said, laughing. 

"Fucking rabbits," Joey added. 

"Or fucking dogs," Chris said, grinning. 

"Fucking goats," Joey suggested. 

"Fucking anything, really," Chris said. 

"Because that's what you two were doing," Joey continued. 

"Fucking," Chris concluded. 

My head ticked back and forth between the two of them, trying to find a spot to jump in and shut this down before they really got going. 

"No Vlada tonight?" I asked. Joey, his attention already shifting, began looking over the table, where I still had the reception chart spread out. 

"She's doing a shoot tomorrow, so she wanted to get a good night's sleep," Chris answered. 

"Are we ready?" Josh asked from the bedroom doorway. I glanced over and was surprised. He was wearing a black shirt, completely unbuttoned, and underneath a sheer nylon shirt that was almost completely transparent, shimmering under the light. 

"Wow," I sighed. I hadn't noticed how tight those jeans were. "You look hot, Josh." 

"Not as hot as you," he said, kissing me on the cheek. 

"You're flashing a lot of skin," Chris said, cocking his head to the side. 

"That's not like you," Joey added. 

Josh grinned. 

"Every once in a while I like to surprise you guys," he said as I herded all of them to the door. "Let's go get the rest of the boys and get dancing!" 

We charged out to the minivan, determined to have fun. 

---

JUSTIN'S POV: 

The evening was going passably well, and everyone seemed to be trying to have a good time, as if we hadn't gotten in arguments every day that we'd been here. Never underestimate the power of denial, especially in large doses with large groups. I hated to say it, but the harder we tried to have fun, the more I got the feeling that we were the last people dancing to the band on the deck of the Titanic. Then again, maybe I was just being negative. Maybe everyone really was having as much fun as they looked like, and it was just me who was unhappy. 

I was trying to be happy, trying to just let go, but every time I was out on the dance floor, finding a random partner and starting to get down, I would look over and see Jack and Josh, dancing together. Jack, as always, didn't have much rhythm, but if Josh was leading anyone was a good partner, pressed against him. The two of them whispered to each other, or kissed, dancing against each other through every song as their hands slid back and forth over each other's shoulders or hips. They grinned the entire time, their eyes locked together, and you could tell that, for them, there really wasn't anyone else in the room. The rest of us were just background cast at the moment. 

I turned away, heading back to the bar for another drink as the girl I was dancing with tried to follow. I was moving too quickly through the crowd for her to keep up, but I was sure she'd be around again later. They always came back. I pushed through the crowd at the counter, grinning amiably at everyone since we were in public, and ordered another beer, my fourth or fifth for the night. Turning, I saw Lance down at the end of the counter, seated on a bar stool by himself. I hadn't really spent a lot of time alone with Lance lately. Actually, I hadn't been alone with Lance since before Jack left. After everyone had found out about the horrible things I'd done to him, I had promised not to be alone with him. Then, when he and I finally worked that out, he was already involved with Howie, and spending his personal time with him. Then when Jack disappeared I was with Josh all the time, and Howie, finally finding out that it was me who hurt Lance, ate up even more of Lance's time after that. 

"Hey," I said, walking over. I leaned on the counter next to Lance, being careful to keep a little space between us. He was more or less ok around me, after all the therapy we'd both been through, but lately he had seemed a little skittish. 

"Justin!" Lance said, sounding surprised. His green eyes darted around the bar quickly as he smiled uncertainly. "Hey. You're not dancing?" 

"I got a little bored," I lied, shrugging. "What's your excuse?" 

"I just don't feel like it right now," he said, looking away. 

Both of us sipped our beers, looking out across the dance floor at our friends. Josh and Jack were grinding against each other in time to the music, Jack's arms clasped behind Josh's neck, Josh's hands on Jack's hips. Joey and Chris had found random girls to dance with, although I noticed that Chris was keeping a respectable distance between himself and his dance partner. I guess he really was serious about this thing with Vlada. Joey, somehow exuding that baffling Joey charm, actually had two girls fighting to dance with him, and was trying his best to please both. Nick had some poor victim of a girl pressed against him, massaging her ass with both hands while they gyrated to the music, and nearby, avoiding Nick as studiously as Nick was ignoring him, was Howie, also dancing with a random girl. I wondered if it was bothering Lance to see him like that. 

"Howie looks like he's having fun," I said carefully, watching his face. He looked out wistfully at Howie, who didn't seem to notice. 

"Yeah," Lance said, shrugging. "He says we can't dance with each other, because, you know, people might know." 

"So you don't feel like dancing at all," I said, figuring it out. 

Lance nodded, looking sadly at the floor. When he looked back up at me, I saw that I wasn't the only one in pain. 

"It's hard, Justin," Lance said quietly. "It's just so hard sometimes. When I talk to my family, they're still not really ok with it. They're trying, but they still don't really understand. And everyone else, well, it's just so hard worrying about who can see you, or who might have a camera, or what people are saying. I look at Jack and Josh sometimes, and, you know, I see how happy they are, and I wonder about me and Howie, and I wonder if we'll ever be happy like that." 

"You're not jealous of them, are you?" I asked, sipping my beer. 

"No more than you," Lance answered, sipping his as well. My, weren't we being honest? 

"You know, Lance, I know we don't really hang out anymore, after, you know, everything," I began carefully, so afraid he'd take it the wrong way. "But if you, I don't know, if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. I miss you, Lance, and if you ever want to, you know, just hang out." 

Lance swallowed, but when he looked at me he was smiling. 

"I think I might like that," he said, green eyes wide. He looked comfortable for the first time since I'd come over. "I miss you, too." 

Lance reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, just resting it there, and I smiled at him. Suddenly Howie appeared at his other side, grabbing his arm. He jerked Lance so hard that Lance lost his balance, sliding off of his bar stool and being forced to stand so he didn't land on the floor. 

"Howie," I said carefully, watching as Lance's face twisted in panic, his jaw trembling as he fumbled for an excuse. 

"Justin," he said icily, glaring at me, his brown eyes narrowed. His fingers were wrapped possessively around Lance's arm, squeezing hard, and Lance actually winced a little. "Excuse us." 

Howie jerked Lance away, leading him around the opposite side of the dance floor to the tables at the back. I couldn't catch any of the words, but I could hear Howie's raised voice and Lance's much quieter one. I sighed and shook my head, wondering why Howie had to be such a dick all the time. Actually, he might have really good reasons, when you thought about it. If I had a boyfriend, I wouldn't want him hanging out with the guy who assaulted him, either. I turned back to the dance floor, deliberately looking past the happy tangle of Jack and Josh. I couldn't see Chris or Joey, and Howie had pulled Lance completely out of sight, but Nick still had that girl pressed against him, whispering in her ear as his hands roamed all over her ass. I recognized the look on his face. Nicky thought he was hooking up tonight. The only question now would be whether I slept on the couch, whether I joined in, or whether I brought someone home, too. 

While I watched, though, I was amused to see Nick's plans for the evening crumble. Four or five girls drifted over, and one of them grabbed the girl Nick was dancing with by the arm. I'd seen this happen in clubs a thousand times. A bunch of girls went out together, and they all expected to go home together. As Nick stood watching, his hand still on the ass of the catch of the day, she argued with her friend for a second, and then turned back to Nick. I'm not sure what she said, but I watched his face, and he had the same expression that I'd seen when he scratched out at pool, blowing a shot that he was sure he had. The girl drifted off with her friends, waving to Nick and making a "call me" gesture with her hands, not realizing that Nick probably wouldn't remember her name, much less her number. Nick swore, throwing his hands up in the air, and then stomped off toward the bathrooms. I finished my beer and decided to follow. 

Nick was bent over one of the sinks, sniffling, when I walked in. He spun around, eyes wide, but when he saw me he grinned with relief. 

"Justin," he said, wiping at his nostrils, still sniffling, as he dropped a small bottle of some kind into his pocket with his other hand. 

"Coking up in the bathroom, Nick?" I asked, sort of disgusted but really not caring either way as I walked over to the urinals. What Nick did to himself really wasn't my problem, but I'd be damned before I put any shit up my nose. "How eighties." 

"Fuck you," Nick said, not really meaning it, checking in the mirror to make sure his face was clean. He walked over and stood by the urinal as I started to piss. "Just trying to take the edge off." 

"Whatever," I said, shrugging. "Looked like you had a tiny little problem out there a minute ago." 

"Yeah," Nick said, shrugging. "I mean, what the fuck? I guess I could go find someone else, or, you know, you'll do." 

He was grinning when he said it, and I noticed again how hot he looked. Nick was like a vase or something. Really pretty, but empty. Still, he'd look even hotter on his knees. 

"Is that why you're over here, staring at my cock?" I asked, dropping my eyes down to it as I shook it off. Nick's, following mine, were on it, too. I gave my dick a squeeze, feeling it start to swell. "See something you like, Nicky?" 

Nick's eyes darted around the small bathroom, stopping at mine before dropping back down to my cock. 

"Justin, this isn't really," he began, and I slid my other hand up to the back of his neck, exerting gentle pressure. I wasn't really pushing on him yet, but it was clear where I wanted him. 

"That wasn't really what I asked, Nicky," I said, leaning in. My other hand was stroking faster at my cock now, and I stopped for a second to grab one of his. Pulling it over, I pressed his palm to my shaft, and grinned when I felt his fingers wrap around it and begin to slide up and down. I stepped away from the urinal a little, and he stepped with me. "I asked if you saw something you liked. Did you?" 

Nick grinned, staring into my eyes, and, licking his lips, dropped to his knees on the floor of the dirty little bathroom as the music out on the dance floor pounded through the walls. I had both of my hands on the back of his head now, lacing my fingers through his hair, and was gently, but firmly, pressing him forward. 

"Yeah, I did," Nick answered, his mouth dropping open as he slid forward, smiling. 

The head of my cock slid through his lips, and I felt his tongue playing over it. Flexing, my arms bulged, biceps tightening as I pulled him forward, watching as my shaft slid into his mouth. His big blue eyes, deceptively innocent, beamed up at me as he gleefully went to work on my cock, washing his tongue over and around it. I began to pull his head back and forth as he knelt limply in front of me, letting me have my way with him. His mouth hung open as I used him, and I felt myself feeling better already. 

"I thought you'd like that, Nicky," I said, smiling down at him. He moaned contentedly. "You always like being my bitch, don't you?" 

"Mmm hmmm," Nick moaned around my cock. I watched for a second as I continued pumping in and out of his mouth. My shaft was slick and wet, appearing and disappearing between his rosy lips. 

"Yeah, I know, Nicky," I said, pushing forward again, jamming into his throat. Nick had swallowed too many dicks to gag on it, and he knew better than to let any teeth scrape. "You look so fucking sexy down there on your knees." 

Nick grinned up at me around my cock, but before I could say anything else we heard the outer door to the bathroom squeaking open. It also had an inner door, and I jerked Nick over to the nearest stall, kicking the door closed behind me, almost tripping since my pants were down around my ankles. Nick had flung his arms out to keep from being smacked into the wall, and he leaned over the toilet with his back to me. I leaned on him, my chest to his back, my cock still hard, as we heard the inner door open. Nick giggled a little, trying to smother it, as we heard somebody pee, then wash his hands, and then we heard the door close again. 

"That was close," Nick said, laughing. I was leaning on him still, and realized that my cock was still hard, pressed against his ass. 

"Yeah," I whispered, my hands dropping down to his hips. "But I'm still hard, Nicky." 

"Justin," Nick said, not moving, but not stopping me as my hands slid around the waist of his pants to hover just over his belt. "We just almost got caught." 

"I know," I said, my hands crawling down to his crotch. He was hard, too, and I began to massage his cock through his pants as he moaned. "And it turned me on, Nicky. Feels like it did you, too. You know what I want now, Nicky? Do you?" 

"Justin, not here," he hissed, letting out another little moan as I squeezed his cock a little harder. 

"I want to fuck, Nicky," I said, letting go of him. I undid his buckle, and then his pants. Always prepared, I had a condom waiting in my pocket, and I began tearing it open as I kicked his legs wider apart. "Do you want me, Nicky?" 

"Justin, what if we get caught?" Nick whispered, bracing himself against the wall. 

"Don't be such a pussy, Nicky," I said, pressing my cockhead to his ass. I leaned forward, pressing my mouth right against his ear. "Unless you're being my pussy." 

Nick's breathing was high and shallow, and I ran my hands up and down his back, dropping them down to stroke his ass, squeezing the cheeks, as I left my cock there, ready. 

"Last chance, Nicky," I whispered, nibbling at his ear. "Do you want to be a good little boy, or do you want to fuck?" 

"Fuck me, Justin," Nick answered, grinning. "Fuck me." 

Kneeling a little, I pushed forward, my body flexing as my cock pushed against him and then burst inside. He let out a low grunt that rose to a yelp as I slammed forward, crashing against him as he stood rigid against the back wall, the toilet below us. I began to pump into him, hard and rough, the way that fucking always was with Nick and I. It was always kind of quick and bestial with us, the definition of "fucking", really. There was making love, like Josh and I had once, and there was fucking, which Nick and I did often, rutting against each other as I drilled into him. 

"You like that?" I asked, biting the side of his neck as he tossed his head back against me, my arms on his stony shoulders as I slammed into him, hearing him grunt each time I hit bottom, jabbing at his prostate. 

"Harder," Nick grunted, throwing himself back against me. "Harder! Fuck me, Justin! Fuck me!" 

"Yeah," I grunted, slamming into him, feeling his hot tunnel clench around me. 

I brought one of my hands around to the front and began to jerk him off, wrapping my fingers around his cock. Nick moaned again as I pulled at it, stroking him in time to my thrusts, squeezing hard. He continued throwing himself back against me as I pushed forward, his hips slamming into mine. We were both moaning and groaning, not even bothering to cover the noise. We heard the bathroom door open again, and Nick tensed up for a second, but I didn't miss a beat. 

"Someone's in here," he hissed, still meeting my thrusts. 

"Let's give 'em a show," I whispered back, slamming all the way into him even harder, forcing another yelp out of him. My hand squeezed convulsively around his cock as I thought about how hot this was, how dangerous for us both if we got caught. 

"Unh," he grunted, clenching around me again. "Fuck me!" 

"Yeah," I panted, chanting it with each thrust. Nick groaned against me. 

I realized that the person in the bathroom hadn't left yet, was still standing there listening to us, and suddenly that was enough. I slammed forward, feeling my body tense up as my hips jerked, spearing my cock into Nick's ass as I began to unload in him. He groaned, and I kept stroking, finally seeing him shoot all over the back of the stall as he yelped. I grabbed some toilet paper, pulling the condom off as I stepped back, sliding out of him, and we both caught our breath. I dropped the mess into the toilet, and, grabbing another sheet, cleaned Nick's cock off carefully, knowing that he was always a little sensitive after he came. He hit the flusher as he bent down to pull up his pants, and I pulled mine up as well. As we stood I licked the back of his neck. 

"That was fun," I said. 

"Fucking hot," he agreed, fastening his buckle. 

"Let's go see if they enjoyed the show," I said. "Maybe we won't be alone tonight after all." 

I pulled open the stall door, grinning, neither of us bothering to be embarrassed. If whoever was out there had heard that much, there was no doubt as to what we were doing, and pretending wouldn't serve any purpose. Nick stepped out behind me, and collided with my back as I froze, my grin slipping a little. Joey leaned on the inner bathroom door, holding it closed to keep anyone else from entering the bathroom, his face an angry scowl. 

"Joey," I began, not sure of what I'd say. 

"Enjoy the show?" Nick asked. 

"Have a good time?" Joey asked, his voice harsh. "You two are in deep shit." 

Chastised, we followed him out of the bathroom. 

---

CHAPTER 78

---

JACK'S POV: 

I knew from the minute we stomped back to our bungalow that this was a bad idea. Yes, everyone was pissed at Justin and Nick, and yes, I could agree that they had done something extremely stupid. It was almost a textbook example of poor judgment, if they'd used any judgment at all, and I was willing to argue that they hadn't. Justin smelled like he'd rolled in beer. He may not have thought I was looking, but I always watched all of the guys when we went out, the same way I watched everything, and I could state for a fact that before he and Nick went into the bathroom he had consumed seven bottles of beer, a pretty high number for someone as thin as Justin, no matter what kind of tolerance he had. If alcohol was Justin's excuse, Nick's was worse. Maybe none of the others recognized it, although I had no idea how much experience in this area they might have, but Nick was tweaking on something. I had worked with high school students, after all, and knew that racing, glassy stare from a mile away. I wasn't sure what his poison was, but there was definitely some sort of chemical racing through him at the moment, meaning that his mental state wasn't the best for making rational decisions. 

Whatever the reasons, though, what the rest of the guys were doing was an equally bad idea. Joey had herded Justin and Nick out of the bathroom as the two of them followed along, looking sheepish, but still giggling, which seemed to just enrage Joey further. Chris had been waiting outside the bathroom, to keep people from going in, and he rounded up the rest of us as we all followed out of the club, leaving together. Nobody spoke as we left, and I wasn't really sure what was going on, but Chris had told us we all needed to talk, right now, and I realized that Joey and Chris were going to launch into a lecture as soon as we got to the nearest bungalow, which, unfortunately enough, was mine and Josh's. I knew that a lecture was absolutely the wrong thing at the moment, and that a better time might be in the morning, when we'd all slept and the boys were all sober, but I didn't get a chance to even speak before we all piled into the bungalow. 

"Sit down!" Joey barked, glaring at Nick and Justin. 

The two of them looked at each other and sat on the couch as the rest of us milled around the room uncertainly. Howie looked pissed, but he had been ever since he had jerked Lance across the club. Lance looked a little confused, standing by Howie uncertainly. Chris and Joey frowned down at Justin and Nick, and I sat on the back of the living room chair as Josh sat down in it. I put my hand on his shoulder and he absently reached up to clasp it in his as we waited to hear what Joey and Chris had to say. I knew that Justin and Nick had been into something in the bathroom, and based on their contented, flushed faces I had a good idea of what, but didn't want to jump to conclusions. 

"What's going on?" Josh asked finally, breaking the silence. 

"These two," Joey began, gesturing toward the couch, "decided that a public bathroom in the middle of a crowded club was a great place to fuck." 

"What?" Howie barked, as Nick giggled. Everyone's heads snapped toward the couch. 

"Justin, is this true?" Josh asked, squeezing my hand. 

"Yeah, we fucked," Justin answered, shrugging. I was surprised that he'd be so blunt, but realized that he wouldn't like being lectured at, and that must be what was coming. "So what? It's not any of your business, any of you." 

"It is when you do it in a place where you could get caught!" Joey barked. "Do you know what this could do to us? To both our groups?" 

"Guys," I said, quietly, trying to catch their attention. This was just going to turn ugly. 

"What the hell were you two thinking?" Chris asked, sounding exasperated. At least he wasn't yelling, like Joey was. "Were you even thinking at all?" 

"I can't believe you could be this stupid!" Howie said, practically spitting at Nick. 

"Guys," I said again, a little louder. 

"Actually, I was thinking about being horny," Justin answered defiantly. 

"Hey, me too," Nick said, giggling again. 

"What if you guys got caught?" Lance whined, shaking his head. "Oh my God." 

"Justin, how could you do this?" Josh asked sadly. He squeezed my hand again. 

"Look, I don't need this shit from any of you," Justin said. "Who I fuck is my business. Me getting caught isn't any worse than people finding out about Lance and Howie, or Josh dragging Jack down the red carpet." 

"Josh asked!" Joey snapped. "Lance and Howie are careful!" 

"Justin, it's not whether or not you're sleeping with guys," Chris said. "It's the time and place. Josh dragging Jack down the carpet is a lot cleaner than you fucking Nick in a fucking toilet." 

"Get off my fucking back!" Justin yelled, his face turning red. 

"Yeah. He already got off mine," Nick said, giggling again. I had to cover my mouth with my hand, realizing that everyone would kill me if I laughed, too. It wasn't funny, not really, but at the same time I couldn't help it. 

"You stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Howie screeched, Lance pulling at his arm. 

"Guys!" I barked finally, my voice carrying over everyone in the room. Everyone's head snapped toward me now, and I felt strangely uncomfortable suddenly. "Can we just, please, take this down a couple notches before someone gets slapped?" 

"Maybe someone needs to slap them!" Howie snapped, glaring at me. 

"I think Jack's right," Lance said quietly, and Howie spun toward him, eyes flashing. Lance flinched back, almost cowering, and Chris put a hand on Howie's shoulder. 

"Thank you, Lance," I said, trying to sound soothing. "Can we all just breathe for a second, please?" 

Joey threw up his hands, walking away from the couch as Howie shrugged out of Chris's grip, sneering at me again. Justin sat back on the couch, his arms crossed, chin thrust forward defiantly. Nick sat up, and then stood. 

"Look, guys, I don't need this shit," he said. "None of you are my mother." 

"Nick," Chris said, as Nick crossed the room to the door. 

"No," Nick said, pulling it open. He turned back, looking a little annoyed, but mostly his pretty face just looked blank. "Justin, if you want to stay and listen to a lecture from the mother hens, have a good time. I'm going back out." 

Justin looked from Nick back to the rest of us, and then to Nick again. 

"Fine," Nick said, making the decision for him. "Later." 

The door closed behind him, but Justin made no move to get up. 

"Good riddance," Howie said, not bothering to mutter. 

"Hey!" Justin said, glaring at him. "Could you maybe try to keep your Backstreet shit from spilling over onto the rest of us? It's getting kind of old, Howard." 

"It wouldn't be such a problem if you hadn't brought him," Howie said icily. 

I could see Justin getting ready to say something really nasty, and I jumped in. 

"Howie, when we planned this trip we said everyone could bring whoever they wanted to," I said. "Josh brought me, Chris brought Vlada, Justin brought Nick, and Lance brought you." 

"Look, Jack," Howie began, staring at me coldly. "What they did tonight could have affected both our groups. Our careers. Our livelihood. It's a little more than who's friends with who, and it's not really your area." 

"It's Jack's area, too," Lance said quickly, before anyone else could say anything. Howie glared at him again, but Lance didn't shrink on this point. "Jack is part of the family." 

I wanted to add that Howie was rapidly working his way to being our black sheep, but didn't think it would be productive. Still, I was pissed, and Josh, sensing it, squeezed my hand again. Who the hell was Howie to tell me whether or not I belonged? I may not be part of either band, but like Lance said, I was part of the family, and I cared about what happened as much as any of them. Josh stood, not letting go of my hand. 

"Guys, look, it's late, and everyone is kind of upset," he began, looking around the room. "I understand that everyone's really pissed, but I don't think we should all gang up on Justin like this. I'm sure Justin realizes what he did, and what could have happened, but I really think it might be best if we all go to sleep, and think on this some, and maybe talk to Justin and Nick individually in the morning if anyone still wants to." 

Everyone looked around, and finally seemed to see the sense in what Josh was saying. Joey and Chris started moving toward the door, and then Howie and Lance. I smiled at Josh, thinking that he'd done a really good job, and he smiled back at me, a little sadly. Chris paused at the door, the last to leave. 

"Justin, we're just trying to help you," he said sadly. "That's all." 

"I don't need your fucking help, Christopher," Justin said icily. 

"Fine," Chris said, shaking his head. I could see that he was pissed, but he left without saying another word. 

Justin started to stand, and Josh shook his head. 

"Justin, could you stay for a minute?" Josh asked. "Please?" 

"Fine," Justin sighed, sitting back down. 

"Good night everyone," I said, shutting the front door behind Chris as they all stomped off down the walkway. I turned back to Josh and Justin. "Josh? Do you want me to um, go for a walk or something?" 

"No, stay, please," he answered, sitting down next to Justin on the couch. Justin watched him warily, and I went to the kitchenette, looking for something to drink, as Josh stared at Justin. "Justin, I didn't want to say this in front of everyone else, but I'm worried about you. I'm tired of you telling me everything's fine, because I can see that it's not. Everyone can. Please, Justin, please just talk to me." 

Justin looked at Josh, and then glanced at me. 

"I don't feel like it," he said, shrugging. "If that's all you wanted, I'm going." 

"Justin, please don't do this," Josh said. "I'm worried about you. I don't want to lecture you, but I'm worried about what's happening to you." 

"Josh, I don't want to talk about it," Justin repeated stubbornly. Josh continued as if Justin hadn't spoken. 

"I'm worried about your drinking, Justin," he said, looking down. "I'm worried about the way you look sad all the time. I thought maybe this trip would be time for us to hang out, but you don't ever seem to have time for me." 

"I don't have time for you?" Justin asked. "What about you? Every day it's wedding this and wedding that. It's all I hear about from you anymore." 

"I thought you wanted to be the best man," Josh said, confused. 

"How could you think that was what I really wanted?" Justin asked, his composure cracking a little. "Did you stop to think how that would make me feel? Did you?" 

Justin was standing now, facing Josh, his face red as his eyes welled with tears. Josh stepped back, and I could see that this was catching him off guard. 

"Justin, how am I supposed to know how you feel about the wedding?" Josh asked. "How am I supposed to know how you feel about anything when you won't tell me?" 

"Josh, I don't want to talk to you about how I feel," Justin said bluntly, and I could see that it took Josh by surprise. "I don't want to have a deep, heart to heart where we cry everything out and it all turns out ok tomorrow. Just back off, ok? I'm tired of having you in my shit." 

"Justin, I can't do that," Josh said, taking his arm. Justin jerked away from Josh's touch. "I don't like what's happening to you, ok? I don't like what you're turning back into. It scares me, Justin. I'm scared that you're going to get hurt, or that you'll hurt someone else." 

Justin stared at Josh with frosty disinterest, and I felt myself getting pissed. I felt bad for Justin, but really he was pushing me a little past my tolerance, too. There were only so many times you could make excuses for him, and only so many excuses you could make. Josh stood before Justin, his arms open, reaching out to him, with tears standing in his eyes, and Justin watched him, and then turned away. 

"I don't care what you like, " Justin said finally. We couldn't see his face, because he'd turned away, but I watched Josh's shoulders slump. "I don't care what you're scared of, either. It's my life, Josh. Have a good night." 

Josh turned away, wiping at his eyes, but Justin didn't even look at him. He pulled open the door and walked out without looking back, closing it behind him. Josh turned to me, tears trickling down his cheeks, and I stalked across the room. 

"Jack?" Josh said, grabbing my arm. 

"Fuck this," I said, grabbing the door handle. "I'll be right back." 

I jerked the door open and slammed it closed behind me. Justin, already at the end of the sidewalk, jumped. He turned and saw me, and I watched him quickly wipe at his own eyes as I walked toward him. When he turned to me, his face was blank again, but I knew him too well to be fooled by that. 

"What?" Justin barked. 

"Don't 'what' me, Justin," I snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" 

"I hope you didn't come all the way out here just to lecture me," Justin sighed. 

"I hope you're not really expecting me to buy the spoiled brat act," I sneered. "I'm out here because the man I love is in there, crying, again, because of you. Do you know how much pain you're causing Josh? Do you know how much you're hurting him?" 

"How much I'm hurting him?" Justin snapped, stepping toward me. "What about me?" 

"Justin, both of you told me that he was honest with you," I said, crossing my arms. I was getting really tired of riding on Justin's pity train. "You knew he didn't love you, and now he's trying to be your friend. He's trying pretty fucking hard to be here for you, and I watch him, every day, trying to reach out to you, and you just keep shitting on it." 

"Maybe that's all I can do right now!" Justin snapped, his eyes watering again. "Maybe that's all I feel like doing! I think I'm trying pretty fucking hard not to shit on you, but I forgot, you don't ever see anything but fucking Josh." 

"How am I supposed to see anything else, Justin?" I snapped. I felt my temper fraying, and realized I was being just as bad as the guys. I wasn't helping, either. "Justin, I'm trying to help you, ok? I don't know how, because you won't let me, but I'm trying." 

"Well stop fucking trying!" Justin snapped. "Why do you always have to be such a fucking social worker? Do you have any idea how annoying that is? How fucking tired I am of always having you around trying to get everyone to kiss and make up? I'm not your fucking project, Jack." 

Justin turned away from me, and I thought about trying to stop him. What he'd just said was still ringing through my head, though, and it stung. All I wanted was to help, and you couldn't help people who didn't want it. Justin glanced back over his shoulder. 

"Nothing else to say?" he asked, smirking. 

"No, Justin," I said crossly. "Have it your way. I'm tired of beating my head against your wall. You don't want my help? Fine. You want to drink yourself into oblivion every night? Be my guest. You want to get high on whatever Nick's doing? Have a great fucking time. Oh, and don't forget to fuck everyone on this end of the coast while you're at it, ok? Have a fucking blast. I'll see you at breakfast, and try not to annoy you with my concern. If you decide that maybe you feel like listening, or talking, or just having a friend, you call me, but until then I won't let you hurt Josh again." 

Justin walked off into the darkness, heading toward his cottage, and I turned and walked back into ours. Josh was waiting at the door, and he wrapped his arms around me as I held him tightly. He laid his head on my shoulder and sighed. 

"Josh, you ok?" I asked. 

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I should have pushed him away, Jack. I shouldn't have been so, I don't know, so needy, but when you were gone, I was in so much pain, and I didn't know you were coming back." 

"Josh, it's too late for that," I said, feeling hot tears on my neck. "It's too late, and it doesn't matter now." 

Josh leaned back, looking down into my eyes. His face was filled with pain, and I felt myself getting even more pissed at Justin, despite the fact that I knew Justin was hurting just as badly. And as much as I had wanted to, I wasn't helping Justin, either. I'd lost my temper, and now pushed him completely away. 

"Jack, why can't we help him?" Josh asked. 

"Because he doesn't want us to," I answered. 

---

JUSTIN'S POV: 

I walked slowly back toward my cottage, my head spinning as I realized that, once again, everyone was pissed at me. I'd managed to push everyone away again, even Jack, who had been trying so hard to reach out to me. I just couldn't listen to it anymore, couldn't listen to everyone yelling at me, trying to tell me how to live my life. And I was tired of everyone telling me that they knew how I felt. They didn't. No one did, but they all kept trying to push me, kept trying to tell me how I should feel, and what they thought I should do. The only person who didn't was Nick, but I was starting to feel like I shouldn't be listening to him either. Nick kept telling me not to worry about anything, to just do what felt good, but if that was the right way, why did I just end up feeling more and more empty? 

I sighed, wishing again that I knew how to fall out of love with someone. Why is it so easy to go one way, but not the other? As I walked past Lance and Howie's cottage I heard raised voices, and, curious, walked closer, seeing that the window was open. The curtains were closed, but I could hear just fine. Howie was screaming at Lance, really screaming, and Lance was sobbing. 

"How could you do that to me?" Howie screamed. "How could you embarrass me like that?" 

"I thought Jack was right," Lance answered, sobbing. "I said I was sorry. Please, please don't yell at me." 

"How could you disagree with me like that?" Howie demanded again. Lance just sobbed. "And over Justin? Justin!" 

"Howie, please," Lance whined, his voice squeaking. "Please don't be mad." 

"For Justin!" Howie yelled. "I saw you with him at the bar, Lance! I saw you!" 

"Howie, please," Lance pleaded again. He sounded panicked, and I wondered if I might be able to see better from the other window. 

"What did I tell you about him?" Howie demanded. "What did I tell you?" 

"Howie," Lance said, and then his voice was cut off by a slap. I gasped. 

"What did I tell you about Justin?" Howie demanded again. "It's not enough that you let him do that to you, is it? You had to tell all your friends, and couldn't tell me! You kept me strung along for months, and they all knew! How could you do that to me?" 

"I said I was sorry," Lance sobbed. 

"Sorry? You're sorry?" Howie demanded. 

I heard Lance cry out, and the meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh. I heard it over and over again, thumps punctuated by Lance yelping, and through it all Howie kept screaming at him. I knew, in the back of my mind, what I was hearing, but couldn't believe it. Not Howie. It wasn't possible, but I was listening to it. I was listening to Lance cry out in pain as Howie hit him, over and over. Howie raged through it all, like a madman. 

"You think I didn't see you? You think I wouldn't notice you talking to him? What did I tell you, Lance? What did I tell you? I told you to stay the fuck away from him! Why can't you listen to me? What's wrong with you?" 

Lance sobbed, still yelping, and I reached my fingers through the open window and managed to snag the curtain. Lance was curled up on his side on the floor, holding himself, trying to protect his head, and Howie was standing above him with his fists curled, his arms flexed as he breathed heavily. 

"Get up," Howie hissed coldly. 

"Howie, please," Lance sobbed, his words barely comprehensible. 

"Get up!" Howie yelled, grabbing him by the hair. He jerked Lance up and Lance screamed, a high, piercing scream. I realized that I was holding my hand over my mouth and my eyes were wide with shock. Howie slapped Lance across the face and dropped him back to the floor. He dropped down, his voice dropping as well. "I won't let you embarrass me again, Lance. I won't let you make a laughingstock out of me. You think I don't know that they all had a good laugh over it? You think I don't know that Justin laughed all the times he came over and ate at our table, knowing he had you like that, and you let him?" 

"Please don't hit me anymore, " Lance said quietly, his voice breaking. 

"I should just leave you right now," Howie said, standing. 

"No!" Lance said, grabbing Howie's pant leg. 

"Why not?" Howie demanded. "You don't care about me. If you did, you wouldn't make me keep doing this to you." 

"Howie, I'm sorry," Lance sobbed, trying to get up. "I won't disagree with you anymore. I won't talk to Justin anymore, I promise. Please, Howie, I love you. Please don't hurt me anymore." 

Howie sighed, dropping to his knees. 

"Lance, I'm just trying to do what's best for you," he said, shaking his head. "I wish it wasn't like this, but you just keep making me do this. You think I like being this upset? I wouldn't do this if you didn't keep making me so mad, Lance. I'm not hurting you, Lance. You're hurting yourself." 

"I know," Lance whispered. "I know. This is all my fault. I'm sorry I keep making you mad. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me, please don't leave me alone. I'm sorry, Howie. I'm sorry." 

"I don't know if I believe you," Howie said, standing. He walked into the bedroom. 

Lance watched Howie go and stood shakily, holding onto the couch for support. He was holding his side, and he winced as he began pulling his shirt over his head. I gasped again when I saw his chest, which was a mottled collection of bruises and marks. This wasn't the first time Howie had hit him. Lance used his shirt to blot at his face, and then began to undo his belt as he walked into the bedroom, after Howie. I sat on the ground, trying to figure out how to deal with what I'd just seen. Everything made a lot more sense now. The way Howie wouldn't let Lance out of his sight, the way Lance had seemed so withdrawn for the past few months. This had been going on right under all of our noses, and none of us had seen it, because we were all too caught up in our own problems. 

I walked numbly back to my cottage. Nick was on the couch, in his boxers, watching television when I walked in. 

"Hey," he said, glancing up at me. "You ok?" 

"I don't know," I answered. 

"That bad?" Nick asked, and I wondered if he knew. No, he barely spoke to Howie. Nick was as good at watching people and getting inside their heads as I was, and if I hadn't caught it, neither would he. "You want to play the Playstation?" 

"No," I said, shaking my head as I began to untie my shoes. 

"Do you want a drink?" Nick asked. "Or a blowjob?" 

"No, thanks," I answered, smiling. Nick's predictability was oddly comforting. I kicked off my shoes and walked to the bedroom. I stopped in the doorway, glancing back over his long, muscled form as the light from the television washed over him. Nick was watching me, one hand holding the remote and the other not-so-casually scratching his balls through his boxers. "Nick, I'm just gonna go to bed, ok? I don't really wanna, you know, do anything, ok?" 

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It'll help you fall asleep." 

"No, thanks," I repeated, grinning. "Maybe in the morning." 

"OK," Nick said, shrugging. His hand wandered into his boxers as he reached for the tissue box with his other. Nick would be ok just fine by himself. "Night, Justin." 

"Good night, Nick," I said. 

I brushed my teeth and stripped down to my briefs, climbing into bed. I heard the television playing on low volume, and then heard Nick sighing to his solitary climax. After a while, he got cleaned up and climbed into bed, too, and surprisingly he spooned against me, draping an arm over me comfortingly. I wanted to fall asleep, but couldn't. Too many thoughts were racing through my mind, and I kept hearing Howie, hitting Lance over and over, and knew that I hadn't done anything to stop it. Lance was in trouble, and no one knew but me. 

And Lance wasn't allowed to be around me. 

How the hell was I supposed to help him? And who could I turn to with this one? If I hadn't heard it, hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it. I knew from personal experience that Howie could dish out a good beating when he was wound up, but he and Lance seemed so devoted to each other. And I'd pushed everyone else away. Joey was pissed at me, Chris was disgusted, Josh was hurt, and Jack was out of patience because I hurt Josh. Who could I talk to about Lance and Howie? The only person I could think of was Lance. I just had to figure out a way to do it. 

I fell asleep, finally, trying to come up with a plan. 

---

CHAPTER 79

---

JACK'S POV: 

I was there again, in my dream. I knew it was a dream, knew that it couldn't be real, but only with part of my mind. Even as I told myself over and over that it was done, that nothing here could hurt me, that I was safe, my brain insisted that it couldn't be true. I inhaled the musty basement smell, and the smell of the mattress I'd been sleeping on, permeated with the smell of myself. I even caught a whiff of peanut butter, the only food I'd been able to eat, the only thing I'd tasted for so long. I was there again, in that tiny white room, the walls claustrophobically close, the only light that tiny bulb. 

In my dream, the tiny bulb was dark, and I knew when it was. When I thought of specific days in that place this was one of the few that stuck out. This was the day I escaped, the day I carried out my desperate plan. As I became aware, more fully conscious, I realized I was pulling the pins from the door again, and tilting the door toward me. I felt my heart hammering again, felt my pulse racing, and experienced all over again that feeling of illicit freedom when I walked out of the room and up those stairs. I stood in the hallway deciding between left and right, and found myself in the living room again. My heart thudded in my chest as those feet began to come down the stairs, and I tried to turn, knowing I had to get away, but the floor was suddenly made of tar, or mud. It sucked at my ankles as the air thickened into soup around me. 

I couldn't see the face, though. Where I had seen Basil, where our eyes had locked across the living room, now there was just swirling darkness above the neck, a blank spot that it hurt my mind to look at. I turned, finally, and began racing down the hall, my lungs screaming as I fought to inhale. Behind me, I heard the feet crashing down the stairs, and then, as I passed the basement doorway, I felt the hands on my back, grabbing my shirt. 

"No!" I screamed, lashing out, but my arms were so thin and I was so weak. 

The hands pushed me down the stairs, dragging me back to the room where the light was on, and the mattress was waiting. The door was back in place, and the man behind me was pushing me back into the room as I struggled weakly, ineffectually, against him. I felt him slam me into the mattress, pressing me down, his hands pressing against me in a way that wasn't just threatening, but also somehow sexual. I felt them on me, pulling at my clothes, touching me, violating me, and I turned over, struggling, and saw his face above me. It wasn't Basil. 

It was Justin. 

"No!" I screamed again, thrashing in the sheets as I fought my way up from sleep. "No! No!" 

I felt arms around me, clasping me, and I struggled against them, flailing wildly as they tried to envelope me. I felt someone against my back, someone in the bed with me, and I tried to get away, tried to get out of the room, but they had me. I realized they were saying my name over and over, and I blinked, seeing that I wasn't in the basement. I was in the bungalow, and the warm, strong arms around me were Josh's. I was dripping with sweat, and Josh had pulled me tight against him, spooning himself against me, his hands stroking me soothingly as he whispered over and over into my ear. 

"You're safe, Jack, you're safe," he whispered, holding me, as I tried to catch my breath, and fought back tears. "You're safe." 

I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. 

"You're safe," Josh repeated, holding his arms around me. I felt his bare chest against my back, swelling and pressing against me as he breathed, and smelled the comforting scent of Josh all around me on the pillows. "You're safe, you're with me, and I love you." 

"Josh," I whispered, closing my eyes. 

"I'm here, Jack," Josh whispered, kissing the back of my neck. "I'm right here." 

"I know," I said, willing myself to take deep, even breaths. "I know." 

We lay like that for a while, Josh cradling me as the sweat on my body began to dry. He brushed my hair back off of my face, and eventually I turned, so that we were facing each other. I saw the concern in his face as he stared at mine, his eyes watching me carefully to make sure I was ok as he waited to offer whatever I needed. I saw his love for me, saw the concern and the caring and the kindness reflected in the deep blue pools of his eyes. Suddenly it was all just too much. Josh's arms wrapped around me, pressing my head into the space under his chin, burying my face against his neck, and he rocked me back and forth, his hands tracing circles around my back. 

"Let it out, Jack," he whispered. "Just let it out. You're safe now. Nothing can hurt you, not here, not while you're with me. Just let it out." 

"I'm sorry," I whispered, sorry for breaking down, sorry for being weak suddenly. 

"No, don't be," Josh whispered. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Just tell me if you need to. Was it the dream again? The same dream?" 

"It doesn't matter," I said, trying to stop crying. My eyes kept leaking, as if a faucet had been turned on. I pulled back a little, so that I could see his eyes again, however blurry they might look through my watery gaze. 

"What's wrong?" Josh asked, his brows knit together, his mouth a thin line above his little beard. "Tell me how I can help, Jack." 

"It's just, just all of this, Josh," I said. "I'm starting to feel like this whole thing was a bad idea. I thought this would be a good time for everyone, but I feel like nothing's the way I thought it was, and us all being together is just causing more problems." 

"What do you want to do?" Josh asked. 

"I don't know," I answered. "I mean, we can't just tell everyone, 'Hey, we decided this isn't working out. Go home, and come back in a couple weeks for the wedding.' We're, or actually, you're, paying for everyone's rooms. I just feel like things are out of control. None of this is going the way I hoped it would. Everybody's pissed at everyone else, and I feel like it's our fault." 

Josh put a finger to my lips. 

"OK, for starters, if I'm paying for the rooms, so are you," he began. "What's mine is yours, regardless of what that thing Stan made you sign says. And about everyone else, well, familiarity breeds contempt. Maybe we should take a little breather, find something for just me and you to do for the next day or two. I mean, think about it. Vlada's out doing a shoot today, and Howie and Nick are going to do some stuff with their guys this afternoon, too. Chris has a meeting for his clothing line tomorrow, so it's not like everybody else is just sitting around, waiting for us to entertain them. No one will notice if you and I take a little breather." 

"Are you sure?" I asked, realizing that a little breather sounded like a great idea. "They won't think it's rude?" 

"Jack, no one will fault us for taking a little time out," Josh said. "We're all under stress right now, and probably no one will even notice if we just keep to ourselves for the next couple days." 

I thought about it, and realized he was right. The two of us could take a couple walks on the beach, or go shopping, or even just barricade ourselves in our cottage, and take a little break, and we wouldn't have to put up with any of this. We wouldn't have to listen to Howie and Nick bicker, or watch Justin slowly undo all of the months of work he'd spent making himself a better person. We wouldn't have to watch Joey get pissed at everyone, or Lance clinging to Howie. Hell, we wouldn't even have to see Chris frustrated by everyone else. I leaned forward and kissed Josh. 

"OK," I said. "Let's go to breakfast, and then just drop out for a while." 

After the night before, breakfast was a predictably dismal affair. Chris was picking at his eggs disinterestedly, Vlada having already left. Justin and Nick both looked pretty badly hung over, but they were both slamming back the sludgy Bloody Mary's like the bar might run out of them soon. Lance was looking rather subdued as well, sitting with his head down, only eating when Howie glanced at his plate. I wondered if he might be feeling a little sick, as he looked kind of pale. Joey hadn't made an appearance yet, but we heard him behind us as the waitress brought my bagel and Josh's grapefruit. 

"Got you guys a present," Joey said from behind us. 

You could hear the grin in his voice as he squashed something down on my head. I looked over at Josh as everyone started laughing, and saw that Joey had gotten us those stupid novelty baseball caps. There's a black one that says "Groom" and a white one that says "Bride", and I giggled as I saw that Josh was wearing the "Bride" cap. I saw that he was giggling, too, and then I glanced up and saw the white netting on the edge of mine. Joey, sitting down next to Chris, cracked up as I realized what mine must say. 

"Oh, you're funny," I said, leaning back against Josh. 

"I think they're cute," Chris said. "Excellent fashion statement." 

"You couldn't get the ones that say 'Groom'?" Josh asked, kissing me on the cheek. He didn't sound particularly annoyed, but sometimes he could be a little sensitive. 

"Those wouldn't be funny," Joey said, giggling. 

Lance was smiling a little, Howie was beaming, Nick was stirring his drink, and Justin sadly looked down at his hands. I grabbed my hat and Josh's, pulling them off. 

"Maybe we'll just save these for the wedding," I said, smiling at Joey. I know I'd just decided last night to not be so accommodating to Justin and his moods, but I couldn't help it. There was no reason to rub it in. 

"Told you they wouldn't like them," Chris said to Joey. 

"We like them fine," I said quickly. 

"Honest," Josh agreed. 

"So, what are we doing today?" Joey asked, looking around. Nobody answered at first. 

"We have an interview and a shoot," Howie said, glancing at Nick. 

"Wanna carpool?" Nick asked, grinning. Howie gave him the finger, and I wondered how much fun that interview would be. 

"You going, too?" Joey asked, turning to Lance. 

"No, I'm going to stay in today," Lance said quietly. Justin's head snapped up, but quickly dropped back to his drink. His eyes shifted around as if checking to see if anyone was looking, and I looked away, wondering what was going on now. 

"We have another tuxedo fitting with the wedding woman," I said, squeezing Josh's hand. "We have to make a final decision on the ones we want today." 

"And then some other stuff," Josh added quickly. "So you're not going to see us." 

"Wanna go shopping?" Chris asked, looking at Joey. 

I marveled at how easily Josh just brushed everyone off, and how they all took it so well. Maybe he was right, and everyone else was also so busy and stressed that they wouldn't notice us keeping to ourselves. 

"Sure," Joey answered, shrugging. 

We broke up shortly after that, everyone heading off in their separate directions, and I couldn't help but notice that no one asked Justin to do anything. I thought about asking if he wanted to go with us, and then remembered what he'd said last night. Screw him. Josh and I were going to have some alone time, and Justin could take care of himself. It was, after all, what he wanted. 

---

JUSTIN'S POV: 

I watched Nick get dressed after breakfast, pulling his boxers back on, wondering what his interviewer would say if they knew that he'd just had a rival boyband member's cock up his ass before reporting for his photo shoot. I looked at Nick's smooth, golden tan back, watching as he pulled his shirt on. He turned around, grinning at me, as I lay back, naked, on the bed, staring at him as I lazily scratched my stomach, my plump cock lying across my hip. 

"Don't you look satisfied?" Nick asked, smiling. He looked so hot in boxers and an unbuttoned shirt that I almost wanted to have another go at him. 

"What time are you supposed to be there?" I asked, pulling myself off of the bed and carrying the wad of tissues wrapped around the sticky condom toward the garbage can. I felt Nick's hand brushing over my bare ass as I bent a little to drop it in, and turned, grinning. "Off limits, Nicky. I told you before, I don't get fucked." 

"Can't blame a guy for trying," he said, shrugging. "I have to be there in a couple hours, which should give me enough time if traffic is light. Howie's going to ride by himself." 

"There's a surprise," I said, handing Nick his pants as I scooped my plain white briefs off of the floor. "You wanna do anything later?" 

"Maybe," Nick said, pulling his pants up. "You want to go look for that lifeguard guy from the other day? Or that girl who tends bar at the pool? She said she thought we were both pretty hot." 

"When did she say that?" I asked, looking for my pants. 

"When I fucked her in the back cooler yesterday afternoon," Nick answered, grinning. 

"Maybe I'll go look for her after lunch," I said, shaking my head as I giggled. "Maybe we'll have a little threeway action tonight." 

"Cool," Nick said, pulling on his shoes. "If worse comes to worse, you know, we can always just hit another club. See what we come home with." 

"Yeah," I answered, shrugging, as I looked around to see where my shirt had landed. "I'll see you later. Have fun today." 

"You, too," Nick said. As he was walking out he turned back, and walked over to give me a hug. I thought again about how odd it was for Nick to do this, but maybe he was just trying to be a good friend. "Don't let them give you any more shit today, ok?" 

"Thanks, Nick," I said, squeezing him tightly for a second. 

It felt oddly domestic, and I wondered if maybe Nick was starting to develop some feelings after all, despite all his protests of not having any for anyone. I watched him go and went to look for the rest of my clothes. I needed to get dressed, and then give Howie time to leave, so that I could go talk to Lance. Since Howie didn't want Lance anywhere near me, I didn't want to show up at the door while he was there, because he might beat Lance for it later. My mind reeled again at the idea that Howie was actually beating Lance, and I pushed it away, not wanting to consider it. That kind of stuff didn't happen to people like us. Checking the clock, I decided that enough time had gone by for Howie to be on the road, and I walked over to Lance's bungalow and knocked on the door. 

"Who is it?" Lance called from inside. 

"It's Justin," I answered, looking around to see if any of the others were coming along the sidewalk. Why did I feel like I was sneaking around, when I was just going to talk to my close friend and fellow band member? Lance opened the door about halfway, and filled the space with his body. 

"What, what do you need?" he asked, his eyes darting around the sidewalk. 

"Can I come in?" I asked, scanning his face. He didn't look upset, but his green eyes were wide with what could only be fear. Lance tensed up when I asked if I could come in. "It's ok, no one knows I'm here." 

He blinked at me, and I realized that it was almost like the kinds of things I'd said to him back when he had been confused, when I'd hurt him because I was mad at him and thought he deserved it. I realized that if he really loved Howie, as I thought he did, I was about to hurt him again, but I needed to, to keep him from being hurt. It was probably only a matter of time before Howie broke something, if he hadn't already. Even if he didn't cause any permanent physical damage, I knew that the mental damage must be crushing Lance, especially on top of all the damage I'd done to him. 

"Why did you say that?" he asked, stepping back. 

"I'm sorry," I said, walking in. "Did it bother you? I didn't mean anything by it." 

"No, no," Lance said, shaking his head as he pressed himself to the wall to avoid touching me as I walked in. "It was just an odd thing to say, that's all. Can I get you a drink?" 

I watched him as he shut the door, waiting for my answer. He looked nervous, twisting his hands together, and his eyes kept darting around the small room as if he expected Howie to pop up at any second. Now that I knew what was wrong, it was so easy to see why Lance had been acting so differently, and I wondered again how we could have all ignored the signs. 

"Sure," I answered, sitting as far from him as possible. I didn't want him to feel like I was in his space. I didn't want him to feel threatened by me in any way, so when I sat down I pulled my legs up under me, and clasped my hands over them, trying to pull my whole body into a tight, closed off little ball. "I'll have whatever you're having." 

"OK," Lance said, tossing me a bottled water from the refrigerator. He carried one for himself over to the chair opposite mine, and sat down uncertainly, watching me. "What can I do for you, Justin?" 

I wasn't sure how to start. I mean, was I just supposed to blurt it out? "Hey, Lance, I saw Howie slapping you around last night, and I figured he does it all the time. You want to talk about it?" Somehow that didn't seem like quite the best way to bring it up. On all the movies I'd seen about this, most of them on Lifetime, one girl always told the other that she knew, and then there was a lot of crying, and the girl who was getting beat up left her boyfriend and thanked her friend for helping her. I figured it wouldn't be quite that easy, of course. Also, in most of those movies the guy usually went psycho and tried to kill both girls, and their families, and their pets, and whoever else got in the way, and I was hoping to avoid violence if at all possible. I didn't think Howie was the psycho type, but I hadn't thought he was the abusive type, either. 

"I was just thinking about how you and I never hang out anymore," I said carefully, still trying to figure out how to ease into this. I hadn't really thought much of this out beforehand, figuring that something would just come to me once I got inside. 

"Justin, you know why we don't hang out anymore," Lance said, looking down for a second. When he looked back up at me, he looked sad. 

"I know," I said quickly, trying not to sound defensive. "I know that I completely fucked up our friendship, but I thought we were getting over that. I thought maybe we were starting to be friends again." 

"We are friends, Justin," Lance said quickly. "I mean, I know you're sorry, and I've forgiven you, and I'm even mostly over, you know, over what happened." 

That, at least, was good to hear. Even if Lance insisted that he'd forgiven me, I'd still never forgive myself as long as I thought that I'd ruined him for life, and that he'd never recover from the way that I had used him and mistreated him. 

"Well, if we're still friends, how come we never hang out?" I asked. 

"We do," Lance answered. "We all just went out the other night, and we have breakfast every day. We see each other all the time." 

"Yeah, but we never do anything by ourselves," I said, shrugging, as if just pointing it out in a general way. "I mean, you're always with Howie." 

"I love Howie," Lance said quickly, his smile fading. He was sensing that I was up to something, but he hadn't figured out what, yet. "And he loves me. Besides, everybody's getting like that. JC is always with Jack, and Chris is hanging out with Vlada a lot, and then there's you and Nick." 

"Nick and I aren't a couple, " I said, smiling. "But I see your point." 

Lance was looking at me oddly when I glanced up. 

"Wait, you and Nick aren't, you know, together?" he asked, cocking his head to one side. 

"Well, no, not like you and Howie," I answered, shrugging. Lance looked even more confused. 

"But what about, you know," he said, fumbling for his words. At least I was putting him a little at ease on the Howie front. "Maybe this is none of my business, but what about the thing in the bathroom the other night?" 

"Oh, that," I answered, grinning. Lance grinned, too, settling back in his chair. "Nick and I are friends, close friends." 

"You and Chris are friends, too," Lance said, giggling now. I felt myself blushing. 

"OK, Nick and I are the kind of friends who have, you know, benefits," I said, giggling as well. I noticed that Lance was relaxing a little more, now, falling into this easy chatter, like we were just two friends talking about boys. It felt warm, and gossipy, and safe, and that was exactly the atmosphere I wanted. "Everyone just kind of assumes we're a couple now, because we hang out a lot, and because I brought him on this trip, but we're not." 

"Does JC know?" Lance asked. He shook his head suddenly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. It's none of my business." 

"No, no," I said, not wanting to lose that feeling of friendly camaraderie. "It's ok. And no, Josh doesn't know that. Jack does, but I don't think he's told Josh, because I asked him not to. I don't want Josh to feel bad about what went on with, you know, me and him, so Jack and I decided that for now we'll just let Josh think I'm in a relationship, too, and maybe he'll think I'm happy." 

Lance swallowed. 

"That's really nice of you, Justin, you know, to think about JC, but are you happy?" he asked, blinking. "Are you happy just drinking and sleeping with Nick?" 

"As happy as I can be right now," I answered, shrugging. "What JC doesn't know won't hurt him. What about you, Lance?" 

"Well, I'm not going to tell him," Lance said, sipping his water. "It's not my place." 

"That's not what I meant," I clarified. "I was asking about you. Are you happy?" 

Lance blinked quickly, as if he hadn't quite heard me, and then his face stretched into a tight, brittle smile. 

"Of course I'm happy," he said, grinning unconvincingly. "What a silly question." 

"Is it?" I asked, watching him. He was starting to get a little uncomfortable, and I decided that we'd danced around things enough. 

"If you're trying to say something, Justin, I think you should just say it," he said, crossing his arms. 

"Fine," I said. "I was walking back to my cottage last night, and I heard you and Howie." 

Lance paled, all of the color draining out of him as his eyes widened. 

"Heard us what?" he asked quietly, his water shaking. He grabbed the bottle with both hands, following my eyes to it. I leaned forward, trying to look comforting. 

"I heard him yelling at you, Lance," I said, swallowing. Lance was starting to breathe a little faster, and I worried that this might not have been a good idea after all. It was too late to turn back, though. "I heard him yelling at you, and I heard the other stuff, too." 

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Lance snapped, jumping up from his chair. 

"I heard him hit you, Lance, " I said, standing as well. I didn't move, didn't want to step into his space or make him think I might hit him, too. "How long has he been hitting you?" 

Lance shook his head violently, and tears began to leak from his eyes. 

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Lance said, his voice cracking. He backed away from me, still shaking his head, and dropped his water. It began to spill across the rug. "You don't know what you heard! It wasn't what it sounded like!" 

"I saw it, Lance," I said, trying to keep my hands at my sides. I remembered when Lance had come to talk to me, alone, for the first time after what had happened between us, and how he had been so scared of me moving at all, because he was afraid I was going to come at him again. Maybe I was exactly the wrong person to bring this up to him. Who the hell was I to talk to him about abuse when I'd done it to him? "There was a gap in your curtains, and I saw you on the floor, Lance. I saw Howie standing above you with his hands clenched up into fists, and I saw you pull off your shirt. I've seen the bruises, Lance." 

"Howie loves me," Lance squeaked, still shaking his head. I moved behind the chair, backing even further away from him. 

"He wouldn't hit you if he loved you," I said, shaking my head. "He wouldn't hurt you if he loved you, Lance. He might say he loves you, but if he did he wouldn't do that." 

Lance stopped shaking his head suddenly, his lips curling back from his teeth. 

"How the fuck would you know, Justin?" he snarled. "Because that's what you did? He's not like you! Howie's not like you at all! He loves me, and he would never hurt me!" 

"Lance, I saw him," I insisted, not wanting to argue my guilt again. Still, it felt like he was ramming a knife into my stomach, just to hear him say that, and to mean it. "I'm just trying to help you. I'm your friend." 

"Get out!" Lance screamed, not moving from his place on the wall. 

"Lance, I know this hurts, but I'm trying to help you," I said, wondering if it sounded as hollow and patronizing to him as it did when Josh kept saying it to me. Maybe I owed Josh an apology, now that I realized he probably couldn't think of any better words. 

"Get out!" Lance screamed again. Holding up my hands nonthreateningly, I began to walk to the door. "Get out! You don't know anything! Anything! Howie loves me! He loves me!" 

"I'm going," I said, opening the door. "But if you need someone, if you need a friend, I'm here, Lance, and I want to help you. He wouldn't hit you if he loved you." 

"Get out," Lance said again, dropping to his knees as tears streamed down his face. "Please, just, just go." 

I left, closing the door behind me, but I stayed there for a long time, listening through it as Lance sobbed, insisting to himself over and over that Howie loved him. I'd tried to reach out to him, and now he might never talk to me again. Not only that, but he was never going to leave Howie. He was never going to believe that Howie didn't love him, because somehow in Lance's head he still thought that it was ok for people who said they cared about him to hurt him. I wondered if that was my fault, too, and finally walked back to my bungalow. Changing into a tight blue speedo, I decided to go lay out by the pool, to think, and maybe to see if I could land someone for Nick and I to do later. It wouldn't be hard, of course, because it never was, but I didn't really feel like putting forth a lot of effort, either. I really wanted to focus on figuring out a way to help Lance. 

I couldn't go to the others, not yet. They wouldn't believe it because they hadn't seen it, and with the way I'd been acting lately they might think I was just trying to make trouble for Howie. I shook my head, wishing I hadn't let Nick talk me into becoming such an asshole again. I needed to pull myself out of this tailspin, and figure out how to help Lance. If I did, if I could get him away from Howie, maybe it would finally start to balance out what I'd done to him. Maybe if I saved Lance, I could save myself. I could balance things out in my own head, and start to take some of my own guilt away, and I could show everyone else that I really was a good person. 

I just needed a plan. 

---

CHAPTER 80

---

JACK'S POV: 

I stood in front of the mirror, checking myself in the two side mirrors, turning this way and that, twisting to see how the jacket would ride when I danced in it. I grabbed the chair behind me, checking to see how the pants bunched when I sat down, and then stood up and bent at the waist, wanting to know how the suit would look if I dropped the ring because I was nervous as hell. I didn't want the six hundred people I didn't know, unless meeting them at awards shows and charity functions counted, to think I was poorly dressed if I fainted at the front of the reception hall, or to think that my ass looked enormous when Josh and I were dancing our first dance as a smug married couple. 

Behind me, Lisann watched patiently, not tapping a foot, her hands with their beautifully manicured nails painted to match her periwinkle suit folded carefully over her clipboard. Before we'd started this, I had thought that Josh was an overbearing perfectionist, but since I started immersing myself in this wedding, we were discovering that I was just as bad. The two of us together were like one of those unbeatable super teams from a comic book, out to make the whole world completely perfect and kind of pretty, or at least our definition of it. Lisann, truly a competent professional, rode through all of our moods without batting a tastefully masacaraed eyelash. She had come highly recommended, and had handled any number of celebrity and society weddings, some of which Josh had attended. We were her first gay wedding, but she and her army of assistants, none of whom we ever saw, were determined to treat us just like any other couple, and we both appreciated it. 

I motioned for Josh to come stand next to me, as he was wearing the same tux, and I wanted to see how we looked together as much as I wanted to see how it looked on me alone. Josh was smiling good naturedly, trying to distract me with kisses, but I was trying to stay all business. We only had four tuxedos to try on today, the four we had agreed together would be our final choices. If it was up to Josh, we'd probably be getting married in lime green polyester, or something made of leather, so I had more or less taken charge of the suits, wanting us to look classy and elegant, but also not wanting us to look stuffy. A lot of people would be watching, and photos would be released and probably printed in all sorts of magazines, so I also wanted us to look up to date, and kind of sharp. 

"Is this still a maybe?" Josh asked, as I took his hand, put his other hand on my hip, and danced in place with him for a second as I watched in the mirror. I looked into his bright blue eyes, sparkling above his tan cheekbones, and thought about how luck I was to have him. 

"No," I said, leaning forward to kiss him quickly on the lips. His eyebrows shot up. 

"No?" he asked, surprised. "But I like this one." 

"I know, Josh, but we can't wear these," I said, turning him toward the mirror. "The jacket loses its line when it's unbuttoned, which means we'd have to keep them buttoned the whole time because they're cut so tightly. That means when we sit, the jacket is going to bunch. And speaking of sitting, the pants are already creasing here, and here, and I've only sat down in them three times. By the middle of the reception they're going to look like we slept in them. Not only that, but this fabric just feels odd, and I don't want it touching me for seven or eight hours." 

Josh rolled his eyes, glancing at Lisann in the mirror. 

"Lisann?" he asked, apparently not willing to give up on suit number two without a fight. Lisann smiled, her glossy lips parting to reveal gleaming white teeth. 

"I have to go with Jack on this one," she said, her shoulders moving in an almost shrug. "I know you like this one, but I think you should pick something that you'll both be comfortable in, and it really sounds as if Jack will not be comfortable in this." 

"But Jack, it's Prada!" Josh whined. If I let him do this we'd have leopard printed cumberbuns. 

"Sorry, style queen," I said, grinning. "The Prada is out. Go put on number three, ok? I'll see you in a second." 

We walked quickly to our separate dressing rooms to get changed again. The tailor didn't look like any tailor's shop that I'd been in recently, but that was Josh's world for you. Every store we went to looked like a living room, and people just brought us clothes along with the coffee. Even growing up with money, not on Josh's scale, of course, I hadn't spent much time in places like this. Josh had suggested, half serious, that he and I could share a dressing room, but I insisted that we not give Lisann the impression that all gay guys were like beasts in heat, unable to keep from pawing each other at every possible opportunity. Josh argued that Lisann, dealing with newlyweds and almost newlyweds as a career, was used to seeing people paw at each other, but my sense of decorum won out, barely, over my desire to watch him get undressed over and over. 

I stripped carefully out of number two, arranging it back on the hangers as best I could, knowing that someone else was just going to go back behind me later to rearrange it. I'd never worked retail, so I had no experience putting clothing back together. I quickly got dressed in tuxedo number three, doing up the buttons, making sure I had everything fastened correctly. As I was pulling on the jacket my hand brushed something in the sleeve, and, lifting my hand toward my face, I saw a small tag, attached to the sleeve by a string. Turning it over, my eyes went wide as I saw that it was the price. 

"Josh?" I called, walking nonchalantly back to the mirrors. Suit number three looked really, really good, but I was pissed. 

"You haven't even sat down in it yet!" Josh protested, bursting from his dressing room. I couldn't believe that he could do a thirty second costume change beneath a stage, but still couldn't beat me out of a dressing room. 

"Did I say anything yet?" I asked, noticing that the suit still kept its lines even when I stood with my hands planted on my hips. It damn well better at that price. 

"No," Josh answered, his head cocked to the side as he studied me. "But I can tell that something's wrong. Are you going to make me guess?" 

"Here's a clue," I said simply, raising my arm. The price tag dangled discreetly from the end of the sleeve. 

Josh's mouth dropped open, and he glanced at Lisann, who inhaled sharply, the first crack I'd ever seen in her composure. Not speaking, she made a quick note on her pad with a tiny gold pencil, and I wondered if it was not to show me any prices or if maybe it was to flog the underling who had forgotten to remove this one. 

"Jack, it's Hugo Boss," Josh began, as if this somehow made it ok. 

"It costs more than my first two cars put together," I said, shaking my head. 

"I thought you were taking all the tags off," Josh said to Lisann, who frowned delicately. 

"That was supposed to have been taken care of," she answered, underlining the note she'd just written with such force I thought the pencil would snap. Oh yeah, it was definitely a flogging memo. I realized that this wedding was as important to Lisann, whose entire career was built on reputation, as it was to us, and I suddenly wanted to smooth this over. 

"Lisann, this isn't your fault," I said quickly, taking Josh's hand. "The money argument isn't anything new for us." 

"And it's not really an argument," Josh added. "I like to buy Jack things, and Jack doesn't like for me to pay for them, especially if I didn't buy them on super clearance at a department store. He's a tightwad sometimes." 

"Jerk," I muttered, but it was through my smile. "Besides, I though you liked me tight." 

Lisann tilted her head, smiling, her tightly pulled French twist of blond hair catching the lights in the room. She didn't even blush, although Josh was turning bright red at my comment. 

"Jack, look at it this way for a moment," she said. "This is a day you're going to remember for the rest of your life. Every time you look at Joshua, you're always going to see him as he'll be right at that moment when the two of you become one in front of everyone you know and everyone who matters to you, and that's the way he's going to see you, as well. When he looks at you, don't you want him to see you looking your very best? You might think the suit is expensive, Jack, but the memory will be priceless. I think you should finish trying these on, pick the one you both like, and not give a second thought to what it costs." 

Josh was grinning at her when she finished this tiny speech, and I wondered if it was a monologue she'd used before. Still, it did kind of put things in perspective for me. Josh was going to pledge his undying love to me, again, and I wanted to quibble over a few thousand dollars. I suddenly felt very selfish, and I grabbed him, planting my lips firmly on his. His eyes widened in surprise, but I was already pulling back before he could think to jam his tongue into my mouth. 

"Josh, I'm sorry," I said quickly, feeling tears well up in my eyes even though Lisann's speech hadn't been anywhere near that inspirational. "I'm sorry. I know you just want this to be perfect, and I do too, and I'm sorry I'm being so stupid and petty." 

"It's ok, babe, it's ok," Josh said, hugging me. 

Lisann smiled, and sent us back into the dressing rooms to try on the last pair of suits. When we were finally done, and had selected one we both agreed on, we gave her the list of all the guys' measurements, and then picked out something for Carla, too. Justin was the best man, and Carla was the maid of honor. We wanted her to look nice, but I was still a little worried about her being the only female in the entire wedding party. Lisann assured me that this would be fine, and as she made appointments for fittings and alterations for all of us, Josh and I settled back, accepting coffee for me and tea for Josh from the tailor's staff. 

"Now then," Lisann began, pulling a stack of papers from the folder on her clipboard. "There are a few other things to take care of. We have final menu tasting in three days in the resort ballroom. You're going to be having a little bit of everything, so you might not want to eat anything before hand, and I'll be sure to bring some Tums. Joshua, the florist agreed to the price you suggested for the centerpieces, and the engraver says that the glassware will be done a week prior. I have him doing an extra case, just in case anything gets dropped or broken, but we should be completely ready to go on that. There is one other thing, though." 

Josh and I glanced at each other, wondering what could possibly be wrong now. Last time Lisann had made a statement like that, it had been to tell us that the limousine service we had scheduled had just gone bankrupt. Now I wondered if the resort might be under notice from the county board of health or something. Lisann was always so polished that I felt pretty unsettled just by seeing her purse her lips and try to find the right words to explain this to us. 

"It's about one of the responses that has come back," Lisann said, folding her hands again, the offending response card caught beneath them. She and I both kept a list of who had replied and who they were bringing, but the cards all went through her first. "I'm not sure if there is a good way to say this or not, so I'm just going to come right out with it. Jack, your parents aren't coming to the wedding. Their card came with the batch this morning, and I didn't want to tell you over the phone." 

"Thank you, Lisann," I said quietly, stirring my coffee. 

"Did they say anything?" Josh asked, stroking my shoulder. He couldn't take my hand, because I still had both of them on my coffee cup, which was shaking a little, betraying the unconcerned front I was trying to project. I didn't look at him, or at Lisann. "Did they write a message or something?" 

"No, there's no note," Lisann answered, passing us the card. She sounded very sad, and I could sense that they were both watching me. I glanced at the card in Josh's hand, and saw that the "I am unable to attend" box was neatly and efficiently checked. 

"Jack?" Josh asked, as I stood and walked over to the window, still carrying my coffee. 

"They didn't come to my college graduation, either," I said quietly, my back to both of them. "They didn't approve of the college that I chose, so they didn't pay for it, thinking that I would relent and go to my father's school. Instead I paid for it all myself, but when I graduated, they didn't come. I sat with all of my friends, and when we looked out at the seats, there was a little empty slot where my family was supposed to go." 

"Jack?" Josh asked again, right behind me. 

The coffee cup was still shaking, so I set it down on the windowsill, but then didn't know what to do with my hands. I turned, and Josh was right behind me, his eyes wide and blue and concerned, and I felt myself dissolve. I buried my face in his chest, bursting into tears, as his arms circled me, holding me tightly. I felt his pecs against my face, and felt his heart beating through his shirt as I tried to understand why I was so upset suddenly. 

"Lisann, could you?" Josh began. 

"Of course," she answered, already sounding further away. "Take as long as you need." 

I heard a door close, and just leaned against Josh, holding onto him. I was starting to feel like a hysterical bride after all. It seemed like every five minutes one of us was bursting into tears. Josh's hands were soft, his fingers barely touching me as he smoothed my hair back off of my forehead. I leaned into his neck, inhaling his aftershave, feeling how silky smooth his skin was, and how warm. 

"Jack, I'm sorry," Josh whispered, trying to comfort me. 

"Why?" I asked, feeling my tears level off. I kept holding him, feeling soothed just by the proximity. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. I mean, really I should be used to this by now." 

"That doesn't mean you have to like it," Josh said, running his hands in circles around my back. 

"They're doing this because they don't approve, Josh," I said, stepping back finally. He leaned down and began to kiss my tears away. "They didn't approve of my college, so they didn't go. They don't approve of this wedding, so they're not coming. Like I said, I really should be used to it." 

"Well, you'll still have my mom and dad," Josh said, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. I know he didn't mean to set me off, but suddenly I was just tired of all of it, and I was pissed. Josh's eyebrows went up in surprise as he saw my face change. 

"Fuck this," I snapped, grabbing the coffee off of the windowsill. I slammed back a huge gulp. "Josh, I love your parents. You know that, and so do they, but this is the most important day of my life, and I'm not having that empty spot in the row again. You're the only person I'm ever going to love, and I don't care whether they like that or not. I'm not letting them get off this easy. They're not going to just check off a box on the reply card and send a nice gift." 

"What do you want to do?" Josh asked, still holding the card. I could see the look on his face again, and realized what he was thinking. Since my ordeal, Josh had mentioned more than once that I had changed, that I had become harder inside, and I could tell that he was thinking it again now. "Jack?" 

"We're flying out, Josh," I said, finishing my coffee. I began to gather up my papers. "If they're not coming, they're going to say it to my face. They're going to look me in the eyes and explain it to me, and they're going to do it in front of you, too. My whole life they've done things this way, and I've just shrugged and tried not to let it bother me, but I'm not doing it again, Josh. We're going to fly out there in the morning, spend the night, and fly back. I'm not letting them off this time." 

I felt Josh's arms around me again. 

"OK, Jack," he said, holding me. "OK." 

"They've shown up to both of my brother's weddings, Josh," I said. "The least they can do is tell me why they won't come to mine." 

We went to go finalize plans for the rest of the week with Lisann, to make sure that we could squeeze this trip in after all. We'd go back, get everyone together for dinner, and then pack and fly out. We'd be back in a flash, still getting that personal time the two of us had wanted, and I would have it out with my parents. For the first time since I had graduated from high school, I was going home, and Josh would be by my side. I never once stopped to think about whether or not the trip was a good idea. I should have. Just when you think things are bad, there's always a way for them to get worse. 

---

JUSTIN'S POV: 

Our dinner was small and quiet, and it was almost just us. If you counted Jack, as we more or less did at this point, it was just family. It was hard to believe that Jack and Josh had only met a year and a half ago, and that for almost a year of that they hadn't even had any contact with each other. During that time, all of this could have changed, because I could have reached out to Josh, but I'd blown that chance. And since that time, so much else had changed, too. We were still brothers, still the five best friends in the world, but there was a lot of water under the bridge, too, and the flood threatened to rise again. 

Lance sat as far from me as possible. I didn't speak to him at all, not wanting to upset him, not wanting to upset him again or make him feel threatened. I wanted Lance to feel safe around me. I wanted him to feel like if he needed me, if Howie went too far, or if my plan worked and I got the two of them separated, that he would be able to come right to me, and I wouldn't judge him or hurt him or anything else. He looked a little down, and a little withdrawn, but I think everyone else chalked it up to him missing Howie, who still wasn't back yet, and I didn't want to say anything that might contradict their impressions. Still, it was a lot harder than I thought it would be to just sit there and pretend that everything was ok. I wished, not for the first time, for a drink, to take my mind off of things, but I had resolved to start pulling myself out of the spiral I'd been in, and part of that was not letting Nick pull me back into the haze. I needed to keep my head clear. 

The big surprise from dinner was Josh and Jack's brief announcement that they were going to fly out in the morning to visit Jack's family. We all knew that Jack and his family didn't get along. If we hadn't realized it before, and he hadn't told us, we would have known when he was in the hospital. They hadn't come to see him one time, and I tried to imagine what it would be like to have people like that as your parents. If anything happened to me my mother was on the phone immediately, and I had only recently broken her of the habit of flying out immediately if she didn't like my answers. 

"When was the last time you saw your folks?" Chris asked Jack, who seemed angry, but also a little sad about the whole thing. Jack glanced up at the ceiling, as if the answer might be there. Josh had started doing the same thing now if you asked him something he had to think about. 

"At my brother's last wedding," Jack answered. "They're divorced now. My brother, not my parents." 

"You haven't been home for anything else?" Joey asked, looking amazed. 

"No," Jack answered, shaking his head. "I haven't been inside their house since I graduated from high school. When I went away to college, I never came home during the summers, or on the breaks." 

"And you're ok with that?" Joey asked again. 

"I'm used to it," Jack shrugged. Josh squeezed his hand comfortingly, and I felt bile rise up in my throat. 

"I don't think we should talk about this any more," Josh said quickly, his tone light, but enough to let us know this was no longer up for discussion. I forced myself not to think about how nice it must feel to have Josh riding in as your knight in shining armor to protect you. 

"Do you guys need a ride to the airport tomorrow?" I asked. Everyone at the table glanced at me, surprised I would even ask. Josh smiled, and Jack looked pleased. 

"I'd really appreciate that, Justin," Josh said, grinning at me. I realized that I really had hurt him by pushing him away so hard, and so often. I needed to do a lot of work to get us back the way we were supposed to be. 

"Thank you," Jack said, smiling at me, and I understood that he didn't just mean for the ride. 

On our way out of the restaurant I called out to Lance in the hallway. He almost didn't stop, I could tell, but he glanced around and saw people watching, since I'd called his name so loudly. Lance walked carefully up to me, crossing his arms, but he still looked scared, too. His eyes darted around, as if waiting for Howie to come along and catch us speaking. 

"What do you want now?" Lance hissed angrily. 

"I just wanted to say, about earlier, that I didn't mean to upset you," I said, watching as he stared impassively at me. "I'm not going to keep bringing it up, but I just want you to know that I'm here if you need someone to talk to, and I'm not going to tell the others." 

"Good," Lance spat. "Because there's nothing to tell. Howie loves me." 

"OK," I said, shrugging, beginning to walk away. "But if you decide that love doesn't mean being a punching bag, I'll be here for you." 

"Justin, you don't understand," Lance said from behind me. "It's not Howie's fault if he gets mad sometimes. It's mine. Howie loves me." 

I glanced back over my shoulder, and thought that he looked more than just sad. He looked defeated. Howie was breaking him. His anger was crushing Lance, destroying him, slowly snapping little pieces of him off. 

"It's not your fault, Lance, " I said, shaking my head. "I thought you learned that in all that therapy you went to. It's not your fault, and people who love you don't hurt you." 

"You don't understand," Lance repeated stubbornly, unable or unwilling to actually meet my eyes as he stared at his feet. 

"You're right," I said. "I don't." 

I walked away, checking my watch. I needed to get back to the bungalow and get ready for Nick to come back. He would be tired, probably thirsty, and, more than likely, kind of horny, and I wanted to be sure to address that. I had a plan, finally, but I wouldn't be able to carry it out alone. I needed help, and I needed someone who wasn't going to ask a lot of questions. If I told any of the guys what I was doing, they would want to know why, but with Nick all I would have to do is explain what I needed, and he'd probably go along with it. The fact that people might get hurt, even if everything went as planned, would probably just be more of an incentive for him. Nick was a born instigator if I ever saw one, even more so than me. 

Back at the bungalow, I shut off all the lights, and lit all the candles I could find. I made a big pitcher of martinis, and then stripped down to my briefs. I knew that Nick was incredibly turned on by the sight of me in my little white underwear, because he was no different from almost everyone else who saw me in them, but just to be on the safe side I went and found the smallest pair I had and changed into them. They were almost painful to sit down in, but they clung to my ass, and in the front you could see every ripple of my cock as it pressed and strained against the fabric. I squeezed my pink nipples, rolling the tips around in between my fingers until they were hard, and then I sat back to wait. I didn't wait for very long before I heard Nick's key in the lock. He walked in saw me on the couch, and stopped dead in his tracks, staring down at me, his eyes crawling over my body. 

"Honey, I'm home," he said, smiling carefully as he stood with his hands on his hips. 

I walked over to him, making sure that he was watching, and pressed the glass in my hand to his lips. He smiled and slowly drained the whole thing as I poured it into his mouth. Pressing myself against him, touching him with as much of my body as I could, I brought my mouth to his. 

"I want some of that, too," I whispered, just before I plastered my lips down on top of his, jamming my tongue inside. 

Nick moaned against me, closing his eyes, and I reached down and grabbed his hands, bringing them around to my ass. Now that he had my permission, he began to squeeze and knead my asscheeks, grinding my crotch into his as I writhed and pressed my entire body against him. He continued moaning into my mouth, his hands still working at the hard muscle of my ass, as I slowly backed him up to the couch. When the backs of his legs hit it, I pressed him down into it, keeping myself on top of him. Reaching around again, I slid his hands inside my briefs, so that they were now rubbing over my skin, and he groaned again as I undid his zipper and belt, almost tearing his pants open. I felt the hard tube of his cock and hauled it out into the open, stroking it quickly with both my hands as he continued to moan and sigh beneath me. 

Nick was sweating now, and his hips were jerking up toward my hands as I quickly beat his meat, flogging his hard, dripping prick as I continued kissing him with all the fervor of a chewing gum commercial, fighting his tongue with mine. His hands continued to squeeze and pull at my ass, his fingers brushing the crack. Nick's well muscled body was hard and tense beneath mine, and his face had an expression of strain mixed with pleasure as he urgently chewed my tongue. I ran one hand over the top of his pink cockhead, palming it, as I jerked the other down the shaft, and suddenly he was yelping, breaking the seal of our lips as he tossed his head back, the cords in his neck jerking out as he shot wetly between us. I brought my hand to my mouth and began carefully licking off my fingers as he caught his breath beneath me. 

"Jesus, Justin," he sighed. 

"Welcome back," I said, standing. I grabbed his empty martini glass from the floor, glad it hadn't broken on the carpet. "Want another?" 

"Sure," he sighed, staring at me from his place on the couch. He looked absurd sitting there, fully dressed, with his pants open and his dick out. As if realizing this he began to strip out of his clothes. I watched him for a second, and then walked over with his martini, bringing the pitcher with me and setting it on the end table. I handed him his drink. "Thanks." 

Nick stared up at me expectantly as he sipped his drink and I stood above him in just those briefs, my now hard cock almost bursting out of them. 

"Hey Nick," I began, standing with my hands on my hips, the fingers spread casually. "What would you say if I asked for your help with something?" 

"I'd ask what the something was," he answered, waiting. I smiled at him, giving him my best Justin Timberlake, hot boy next door look. 

"I want to break up Lance and Howie," I said bluntly. His eyebrows shot up. "And I need your help." 

Nick looked thoughtful for a second. He hadn't immediately dismissed the idea, so I figured I at least had a foot in the door. 

"Not that I've agreed to this, yet," Nick began, sipping his drink again. "But what would you need my help with?" 

I swallowed, pretending not to be nervous. 

"I need you to seduce Howie, " I answered. 

"Just like that?" Nick asked. "Not that I don't think I can, but you just want me to seduce somebody I have to work with, and fuck up his personal life, because it's something you want?" 

I smiled at him again, a sexier smile, and idly ran a hand up and down my chest, calling his attention to the muscles there. 

"Don't worry, Nick," I said, hooking my thumbs into my waistband. "I'll be sure to make it worth your while." 

"Oh really?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling. "And what are you going to give me?" 

"Something I know you want," I answered, skinning my briefs down and stepping out of them. My cock jutted out in front of me like a spike. "You seduce Howie, and let Lance catch you, and I'll give you the one thing you haven't had, something no one else has." 

"No one?" he asked, excited, like all guys, by the idea of conquering a virgin. 

"No one," I answered, grinning at him. "Do it, and I'll give you my ass. Do me this favor, and I'll let you fuck me." 

Nick's face split in a wide grin. 

 

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