JC's Hitchhiker

---

CHAPTER 6

---

"So then he comes out of the bedroom, and all he's wearing is this giant diaper, and he's carrying a bottle of baby powder, and he's like, 'Does mommy want to help me?' and I was like, 'I have to go, right now, I think I left my house on fire,' because I couldn't think of anything to say, and I swear I'm never going on a blind date again, ever, as long as I live, and Jack, are you even listening to me?" 

"Huh?" I asked, pulled out of a daydream of running down the beach with Josh and some large dog that neither of us owns. 

"I asked if you were listening to a word I just said," Carla repeated. "I was telling you about my adventures in diaper-land, and you didn't even giggle." 

"Sorry," I said, smiling sheepishly. I'd been tuning out all day. 

"All right, out with it," Carla said. "And I've already figured out half of it, so you might as well just give me the whole story. It would be nice to tell my mom that one of us is dating." 

Carla was my best friend, the health teacher at the school where we both worked. Every day after school we jogged the track, or, in winter, around the inside of the gym. We'd been friends for about three years, having both started at the school at the same time, and Carla was fond of referring to me as her "best girlfriend". Her mom nursed a delusion that I was just a little confused, because she thought Carla and I were the perfect couple, and was forever encouraging her to "help me out" of my confusion. She was also forever fixing Carla up with random men (God knows where she met them), and Carla kept going on these dates on the off chance that one of them might turn out to be a good guy. 

"But Carla, you are dating," I said. "And you'll already be set with diapers when the baby comes." 

"Funny," she said. "So, Mr. Springer, let's see what I've gleaned from my students today. It would appear that you have been harboring a longstanding and secret friendship with a certain pop star that you somehow forgot to mention." 

"Where would you have heard such a thing?" I asked casually, smiling. Yeah, she had me. 

"From one of the girls who saw him in your library last week," Carla answered. "Now, just coincidentally, you've also just returned from the weekend apparently completely out of touch with reality. If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you had a well-fucked glow about you." 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I protested lamely, trotting out tired clichés. "We're just friends." 

"Really? Because, you know, you and I are just friends, too, and I've never given you one of those," she said, tapping at the base of her neck. That she'd be able to see the enormous and junior-highish hickey when I changed into a t-shirt to jog in had completely slipped my mind. "I know you like that dirty pop, Jack." 

"Shaving accident," I said, even less believably. 

"Were you shaving with the vacuum?" Carla asked in mock-seriousness. 

"Ummm, yes?" I answered. "It's nothing. Josh and I are just friends." 

"Really?" she asked. 

At that precise moment the cell phone in the pocket of my shorts rang, the tiny tinkling notes playing out "I lie awake, I drive myself crazy" before I could answer it. 

"Hello?" I asked. 

"Hi," Josh answered. "I love you. Bye." 

Hanging up, I slid the phone back into my pocket, my face now bright red. 

"Oh, and did I mention the cell phone that you didn't have last week?" Carla asked, laughing. "You know, the one that plays N'Sync when it rings? Did I mention that? Because I don't think I did." 

"All right! I give up! You win!" I almost yelled. Luckily we were almost done with our run, so I didn't really have the lung power to scream. "I knew I should have set the phone to vibrate." 

The phone had arrived that day, at lunchtime. I had been quietly eating my lunch at the front desk of the library ("No food or drink!" unless you're the librarian) when a deliveryman had knocked at the front door. 

"Can I help you?" I asked, answering the door. 

"Package for Jack Springer," the man said, holding a silver foil-wrapped box with a large silver bow on top. 

"That's me," I said, taking it, and signing for it. 

As I carried it back to the desk, I checked the top and sides, but there was no card. Suddenly music, the tinkling electronic music of programmable cell phone ringers, began to emit from it. Listening as I struggled to untie the bow, I realized it was playing the chorus to "Drive Myself Crazy", from N'Sync's debut album. Inside the box, a tiny silver phone lay nestled in a bed of silver-streaked tissue paper, cheerily playing its ringer-song like a bird in a silver cage. 

"Hello?" I asked, answering the phone. 

"Hi, I miss you," Josh said. 

I melted at the sound of his voice. 

"I miss you, too," I said, sitting down. The library was empty, so I didn't bother carrying the phone into my office. 

"I sent you a present," he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. 

"I see that," I said, smiling, too. 

"It's programmed with my cell number, the studio where we're recording, and the condo where I'm staying while we're here," he said. "You can call me whenever you want, and now I can call you, too." 

"You are such a sweetheart," I said. "You know I won't always be able to answer this, right?" 

"I know," he answered. "It sends text, too." 

"Good God," I said, laughing. In the halls the bells rang. "Josh, lunch is over. I have to go." 

"OK, I have to go, too," he said, sighing. "But I love you." 

"I love you, too, and I miss you like hell," I said. "Bye now." 

"Bye," he said, hanging up the phone. 

I shut the phone off, assured by the instructions I found under the tissue paper that it would forward all calls to voicemail. Checking it before I left the locker room to go jogging, I discovered that it did, because the voice mailbox was full. I had a message, every hour on the hour, from Josh, telling me he loved me and he missed me. I couldn't decide if I thought it was really sweet, or just completely over the top, but hey, that was Josh. 

"OK, so remember that librarian conference thing I went to last year?" I began. 

"That one where your car caught on fire?" Carla asked as we began walking. 

"Yeah, well, I left out a little part," I began. "The car that gave me a ride to Phoenix wasn't technically a car. It was N'Sync's tour bus." 

I laid out the entire story for her, from getting on the bus to dropping Josh off at the airport last night. I left most of the dialogue intact, paraphrasing, but cut out most of the sex, or at least glossed it over. When we finished our cool-down walk, we paused at the bleachers, where Carla lit up a cigarette. She did this after every run, as if to counterbalance the effects of fitness. 

"Oh, that's healthy," I said, smirking. "Which class unit do you go over smoking in, again?" 

"It's right after the one where we talk about random sexual encounters with drunken celebrities," she answered, grinning. "So you go to visit him in 14 days, huh? Can I go?" 

"Why?" I asked. "You hate their music." 

"Yeah, but you know, you got one of them," she said, blowing smoke rings. "A girl only gets so many chances." 

"Oh, and you think one of them's just going to randomly fall in love with you because you're my best friend?" I asked. "What kind of stories have you been reading?" 

"Sorry, I thought I might have a chance," she said, shaking her head. "Because, you know, Joey's cute." 

"The fat one?" I blurted. 

"You're evil," she said. "So, what are you going to do when you get out there?" 

"I don't know," I answered. "Hang out, see what he does, you know, stuff like that." 

"Sigh a lot, moon around his house like a couple puppies, have a lot of sex," Carla added. "Jack, are you sure you're ready for this? I mean, you haven't dated in like, how long?" 

"Sorry, Good Humor girl, we can't all have been around the block as many times as you," I said. "You make it sound like he had to crack open the sarcophagus to pull me out, Carla." 

"I'm not saying that," she said, taking another long drag. "It's just that you've gone from like, zero to sixty in about three seconds. You've been with him for all of five or six days, and now you're flying out to see his house and meet his friends. Are you ready for this?" 

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I've already met his friends. I met them on the bus." 

"Yeah, for like three seconds, as the guy whose car broke down, not as JC, their friend's, secret boyfriend," she said. We stopped, having reached the parking lot, and she put a hand on my shoulder. "I just don't want you to get hurt, kiddo." 

"Carla," I began, shrugging off the hand and the "kiddo", "I'll be fine. I know what I'm doing." 

But, like a good friend usually will, she'd said what needed to be, whether I wanted to hear it or not. 

The next week was like the twelve days of Christmas or something. Josh called several times a day on the phone, but barely stayed on long enough to have a conversation. I gathered that they were very busy, fine-tuning some of the songs, writing and rewriting some new ones, and recording, and doing publicity, so he tended to call me between things, when he got a minute alone. I missed the sound of his voice, so the calls helped, but I also missed actually speaking to him, so I was hoping we'd find time soon. To make up for not being able to talk much, Josh showered me with presents, so many that I started to feel a little overwhelmed. 

On Monday, the phone had arrived. 

On Tuesday, I came home to find a delivery truck out front, loaded with an entire living room set. 

"Josh, why is there an entire set? I told you I'd replace the chair," I said, watching the guys remove my old couch. "I appreciate you doing it, but really, a whole living room?" 

"I wanted it to match," he said. He sounded a little hurt. "If you don't like it, you know, you can tell the guys to take it back." 

"No, Josh, no, I like it fine," I said quickly. "It's very nice furniture. It's just a little bit of a surprise." 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," I answered. "But, Josh." 

"I gotta go," he said. I heard someone talking in the background. "We'll talk about it later, ok?" 

"Sure," I said. Sure, later. 

Except we didn't get to talk about it that night, and the next day, on Wednesday, a truckload of roses arrived at the library. I handed them out to the teachers, and invited the guys to take them home to their wives or girlfriends, keeping one vase for myself. 

On Thursday, Carla stopped by the apartment after school just as the chef arrived, having come to prepare me a dinner, because, he said, "I'm told you don't eat right because you like to cook." I didn't have the heart to send him away, knowing that he was paid for and that it would be a waste of money, but I also felt a little odd having a total stranger wander my kitchen, so I invited Carla to stay for dinner. 

"So, this is nice," she said, her silverware clinking on the fine china that the chef had brought and left. 

"Isn't it?" I said flatly. 

"Did you call him?" she asked. 

"Got the voicemail," I answered. My dinner seemed oddly tasteless. 

"You guys need to talk," she said. 

"Yeah," I agreed. 

The rest of dinner was spent in either awkward silence or idle chatter about work and our other friends. I never got Josh on the phone that night, although he did text message me sometime after I'd gone to bed to tell me he loved me. 

He loved me so much, in fact, that I almost tripped over the cooler I found on my doorstep Friday afternoon. Opening it, I found a large box of expensive chocolates, sitting in ice, with a note from Josh. 

"Hi. I was afraid they might melt. They're sweet, but not half as sweet as you. Love, Josh" 

Exasperated, I set the cooler down inside my door, without even taking the chocolates out, and called Josh. As had been typical, I got the voicemail. 

"Josh, it's Jack. I really, really need to talk to you. I know you're busy, but I need you to call me tonight, please whenever you get in. Go ahead and wake me if you have to, but please, please just call me. I love you." 

And then I waited. I washed my new dishes and put them away. I sat on my new couch, reading, with my new phone next to me. From where I was, I could see my rose bouquet drying on the wall of the guestroom. (Yes, I'm that sentimental.) Eventually I emptied my new cooler, putting it in a closet and throwing my new chocolates in the refrigerator, but I still had not been called by my new boyfriend. 

As the evening wore on, without any calls or text messages, I decided that I was tired enough to settle into bed, and keep reading there. I stripped down to my boxers, propped a couple pillows against the headboard, and was just settling in and reaching for my book when the cell phone finally rang. 

"Hello?" I asked, even though I knew who was calling. 

"Hi there," Josh said warmly. "Is everything ok?" 

"That depends," I answered, stretching out. I shut off the lamp, wanting only to concentrate on his voice. 

"On what?" he asked. 

"On whether or not we have time to talk," I answered. "Do we?" 

"Of course we do," he said, urgency creeping into his voice. I could picture that little line forming between his eyebrows. "Jack, is everything ok?" 

"For starters, I miss you," I said. "Not being around you hurts a little more than I thought it would." 

"I know," he said. "I miss you, too. Can't you tell?" 

"Actually, Josh, that's part of the issue," I said. "Please don't get upset, but I don't want anymore presents, Josh." 

"What?" he asked, confused. "Did I do something wrong? You don't like them?" 

"No, no, please calm down," I said, running my hand through my hair. I could see him sitting up somewhere, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, looking frantic and drumming his fingers absently yet urgently on his knee. "Josh, I like them fine, but it isn't presents I want." 

"What do you want, then?" he asked. "Just tell me whatever it is, Jack, and I'll get it." 

"Josh, I'm trying to tell you what I want," I answered. "I want you, ok? I want you. I like flowers. I like chocolate. I liked dinner, and the new couch is comfortable as hell, but Josh, none of it matters to me." 

"But I thought that if I wasn't there, it would be like I was," he answered sullenly. I could tell he was getting upset, because he'd thought he was doing the right thing, but here I was not appreciating it. "I thought you'd like it." 

"Josh, please calm down," I said. "Wherever you are, please just sit down, and hear me out. I like everything you bought me, I told you that, but Josh, it's not about the stuff. It's not about the presents, it's about you. It's you I miss, Josh, and it's you I want. I'd rather have five minutes to just talk to you, and hear your voice, than all the presents you could ever buy me." 

"You really mean that, don't you?" he asked. 

"Hell yes I mean it," I answered. "I feel better right now than I have all week, just lying here talking to you." 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should have known." 

"Don't be sorry, Josh, please," I said. "You didn't do anything wrong. You've gone to amazing, great lengths this week to try to make me happy, but Josh, all you really have to do is pick up the phone." 

"Jack," he sighed. "I love you. I really do. And I never get tired of saying it." 

"Good, because I never get tired of hearing it," I said. "So, how was your week?" 

Josh began to explain everything he'd done this week, his long explanations of recording and editing mixed in with equally lengthy explanations of setting up the gifts for me. He'd handled all of them himself, to avoid unwanted questions, which left me surprised. I hadn't realized how much work he'd actually done for all of this, just assuming that he'd given it all to some intern or something. 

As he talked, I tried to imagine him. Closing my eyes I pictured him laying back on his bed, just like me on mine. I saw his hair tossed casually back from his forehead, and imagined him with one arm thrown casually over his head, because that's what I was doing. I imagined the planes of his face, so familiar to so many people but intimately familiar to me, the shape of his nose, the way his lips moved when he said my name, the dark shape of five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and jaw. I saw the rise and fall of his chest, his small brownish nipples moving in time to his words, his abs a little crunched from elevating his head and decorated by that tiny almost invisible strip of dark hair that led down to his waistband. In my head, he was wearing the black boxer briefs he'd worn the night I met him, clinging to his waist, wrapped tightly around his firm thighs, loose but full over his crotch. I saw his calves flexing as he shifted his legs absently, being the kind of person who was always moving at least some part of his body. 

"I love being back here with the guys, and you know I love my music, but I really wish I was back there with you, too," he said, sighing. 

"I wish you were here, too," I said, my eyes closed as I pictured some of the things we'd done in my bed. "The things I'd do to you." 

"What kind of things?" he asked. Oh yeah, we were on the same wavelength. 

"Well, I think I'd start by running my hand over your chest," I said, running my hand over mine. "I'd slide it down between your pecks, and then rest it on your heart for a minute, just feeling it beat." 

"That's where my hand is right now," he said. "What else would you do?" 

"I'd realize that your nipple was right there, and I'd brush it, ever so lightly with my little finger," I said. "Then I'd slide my hand across your chest, feeling you breathe, and I'd grab your other nipple with my finger and thumb and just pull it, just a little, not too hard, though." 

I heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone. 

"And then?" he asked. 

"And then I think I'd run it down your stomach, right over your abs, and I'd dip my fingers just below the waistband of your boxer briefs," I said. "I'd leave them there for a second, and then I think I'd slide my hand all the way down." 

Holding the phone to my ear with one hand, I slid my hand into my shorts and wrapped my fingers around my throbbing pole. 

"Oooh, guess what I found in there?" I asked. "I'm wrapping my fingers around it, and squeezing, just a little. Tell me about it, Josh." 

"I'm hard," he panted. "I'm so hard it hurts, and when you squeeze me my hips jump a little, and I want you to do more." 

"What do you want me to do, Josh?" I asked, squeezing. 

"I want you to run your hand up and down it," he said. "I want you to stroke it, hard, and fast." 

"I am," I said, and I was. "I've got my fingers around it now, and I can feel how hard it is. I can feel it throbbing in time to your heartbeat, and I'm pulling my hand up and down it right now, slowly at first, but now I'm starting to go faster. I'm starting to really feel it now, and I'm brushing my thumb over the top." 

I heard his breathing increase over the phone, and realized I could also hear both of our beds squeaking. 

"I'm going very fast now, and running my hand over the top," I said. "I'm squeezing harder, because I can see that you're close. You're leaking a little, aren't you?" 

"Yeah," he panted. 

"I know, because I am, too," I said. "I'm going faster now, Josh. I'm going a lot faster. How does it feel?" 

"Oh, God, it feels good, Jack," he panted. 

"Tell me what you want me to do, Josh," I said, close to the end. I imagined he was, too, and behind my closed eyelids I could see him getting tense, his legs drawing up a little, his chest flexing, his nipples hard and pointed, and his head thrown back, mouth hanging open. "Do you want me to do it just a little more? Do you want me to go even faster than I have been? Faster? Faster, Josh? Because I am. I'm going faster, and faster, and now I'm flicking the head again, I've got my hand right there on you, and I'm going faster now." 

I heard him cry out on the other end of the line, and the sound of it sent my cock spasming as well. Cum splashed across my belly. 

"Josh, you ok?" I asked. 

"Yeah, yeah," he panted. "That was good, Jack." 

"Pretty messy, though," I said, looking down. 

"I've never done that before, " he said, in a "wow" sort of voice. I could see his face, eyes wide, smile wider. 

"Me either," I confessed, feeling amusedly dirty. "On that note, I vote we go to sleep." 

"I love you, Jack," Josh said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, and I promise no more extravagant presents." 

"OK, Josh," I said. "I love you, too. Good night." 

True to his word, Josh sent no more extravagant presents. We talked every night for the next week, finalizing the details of my travel, and just sharing the usual stuff that people who are separated share. The urge for phone sex somehow never came upon us again, but I was looking forward to having some real sex soon to make up for it. 

At school, the year wrapped up in kind of a haze for me. I floated through finals, helping out with exam proctoring, locating books for summer school and summer reading lists, and closing up the library for the year. I did my orders for next year, and separated out the older books for sale. The morning after graduation, which went off without a hitch, Carla drove me to the airport. As they called for my plane to board, she gave me a big hug. 

"Good luck, and call me, ok?" she said. 

"Sure I will, kiddo," I said. 

"You know, I kind of envy you," she said. "You're going on an adventure." 

"Hey, you'll have a blind date again soon," I said, feeling a little uncomfortable. 

"You know what I mean," she said. "Go find yourself a man, ok?" 

"I already have," I answered. 

The flight passed rather quickly with a thick book in hand. I was fortunate enough not to have to change planes, although we made a few stops, so I could just tune everything out. On the final approach to the last airport, my stop, I had to put my book away, because I was too full of anticipation. I was going to see Josh, finally, after what seemed like forever. 

I was so intently focused on this, and on finding Josh, that I walked right past Chris without seeing him. 

"Jack?" he called. I turned, and saw him walking toward me. "I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure, since I only met you that one time." 

"Chris," I said, shaking his hand. "Hi. Did you drive Josh?" 

Chris swallowed uncomfortably. 

"Actually, no," Chris answered. "I'm here because JC isn't coming." 

---

CHAPTER 7

---

I stared blankly at Chris, and mentally willed myself not to freak out. I was certain there must be a logical explanation. After all, I'd just talked to JC that morning, before I'd gotten on the plane. I'd talked to him during one of the layovers, and he hadn't mentioned anything about not coming. He had said that he loved me, he was excited, and he was even a little nervous about having me come out and meet his friends. 

Could that be it? Had he rethought things? Was he scared or something? 

"He's not coming?" I asked. 

"Well, no," Chris said, shrugging. "He asked if I could come get you, since we kind or already met, and he can't." 

"Oh, ok," I said. I still felt like things were a little off, somehow, though. "Where is he?" 

Chris was looking at me in a curious way, but that could be for any number of reasons. Maybe he was just curious to get to know me better. Maybe he was curious because I'd blanched and turned completely white when he said Josh wasn't coming, before I got myself under control. Or maybe I was just nervous, which really was unlike me. 

"He had to finish up some vocals. They were right in the middle, and he didn't want to break it up," Chris explained. 

"Oh, well, um, thanks for coming to get me," I said. "I think my luggage is this way." 

"No problem," he said. "I mean, if my friend was flying in, I'd want someone to meet him." 

He put kind of an emphasis on "friend", but not enough for me to know if Josh had told any of his bandmates exactly what sort of "friend" I might be. Damn it, I should have just asked him when I talked to him, but it had just kept slipping my mind. 

"Thanks," I said, as we strolled toward the baggage claim. 

"So, is this your first time in LA?" Chris asked. 

"Yeah," I answered. "I was at this conference in San Francisco last year, which is where I met you guys, but other than that I've never been on the west coast." 

"I'm sure JC'll drag you around and show you all the sights," Chris said. "I didn't realize you two had stayed in touch. I remember he invited you to the concert, but after that I don't really remember him talking about you all that much." 

"Actually, we didn't really stay in touch," I said. "We just touched base with each other again a few weeks ago." 

"Oh, was it you he went to visit?" Chris asked. "He took off for the weekend and didn't really say where he was going." 

"Yeah, that was me," I said, not really offering anything else. "Oh, look, there's my bag." 

Chris offered to help carry my bag, but it had wheels on the bottom, so we just kind of walked along toward the car. I was surprised again that he had driven to get me, and parked in regular parking. In my head, I always imagined that rich celebrity type people had drivers and stuff. I never really thought that they might drive around town like normal people, in Jeeps, no less. Granted, it was a Grand Cherokee, but still. Josh kept assuring me that I had funny ideas about famous people (they don't all know each other, either), but for some reason I kept being surprised. 

As we drove along Chris pointed out some of the sights we went past, and we made idle small talk. He didn't really know much about me, so I supplied a little, and I knew practically nothing about him. I don't think I've ever seen Chris do a solo interview anywhere, so I wasn't really sure about how he'd joined the group or anything like that, so I asked lots of questions and filled up the time pretty well between the airport and the studio. Chris was a pretty easygoing guy, or at least he seemed like it, and he drove really well in what I thought was horrendous traffic. 

We parked at the studio, and I picked up my pass. Josh had arranged for me to have a semi-permanent visitor pass to the studio, but I'd still have to sign in each time, for security. 

"JC is doing some vocals right now, but you can wait over here in the bubble if you want," Chris said, opening a door for me. 

"The bubble?" I asked. 

"Because of the windows," Chris explained. 

Stepping into the room, I saw that it was a lounge area, with couches and tables, but three walls were glass, and looked into sound rooms. In one of them I saw Josh, in headphones, but his back was to us. Still, I felt a rush of emotions. 

Josh was wearing track pants and a sleeveless t-shirt, and had his hands up on the earphones, so his biceps were bulging invitingly. The dropped from his shoulders down the narrow v-shape of his back, and the pants, while loose, still gave a hint as to what was underneath. His hair was pushed back and held down by the microphone, and even though I couldn't hear I could tell that he was signing full-out as he rocked back and forth to music that I also couldn't hear. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him, really missed him in a palpable, physical sense, until I saw him on the other side of the glass. 

I realized Chris was watching me, watching Josh, and I quickly set my bag down by a couch. 

"I can wait here," I said. "This is fine." 

"OK," Chris said. "I'll go let JC know you're here, and then I have some stuff to do, but I'll be back to hang with you in a bit." 

"OK," I said, watching him leave. 

Left alone in the bubble, I started to walk around. I had a book in my bag, but I'd never been in a recording studio before, and was curious. I didn't want to disturb Josh, and I assumed that he wouldn't be able to hear me if I banged on the window anyway, so I looked into one of the empty rooms. On the other side of the sound room I could see a window into another room, which is where the technicians worked. I was curious as to what those rooms looked like, and what it would be like to work there, but was interrupted in my reverie by Josh's voice, coming from everywhere at once. 

"Hi, Jack!" 

I spun around and saw that Josh was now facing me in his recording room. He was grinning, and his eyes sparkled in the indirect lighting in there. I waved and mouthed a "Hi." 

"It's good to see you," he said, winking. "I want to finish up this part that I'm working on, and then we can go get some dinner or something." 

I gave him an ok sign, and went back to the couch. 

Josh began singing again, and I realized that they'd left the sound piped in. Aside from the concert, I'd never heard Josh actually sing before, not live, and I marveled again at what a beautiful voice he had. 

"He has a great voice," someone said from behind me. The sound of Josh singing must have covered her entrance. 

She was a pretty girl, maybe about twenty, dressed casually in jeans and a plain top. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, poking out the back of her baseball cap. I wondered if she might be an intern, but I also had this nagging feeling that I knew her, or should. There was more than a hint of southern twang in her voice, but it was pleasant, not grating. 

"I'm Jack," I said, extending my hand. 

"Oh, you're JC's friend!" she said. "I forgot it was today you were coming! I'm Brit." 

"Wait," I said, looking again. "You're not." 

She laughed. 

"Yes, I'm Britney Spears," she said, giggling. 

"But you look so different," I blurted. The word that almost came out, instead of "different", was "normal". 

"You think I wear my stage stuff all the time? And all that makeup?" she asked, giggling again. "Ick!" 

She led me over to the couch. 

"So you're JC's mystery friend that none of us knew about," she gushed. "I've been waiting forever to meet you! How long are you gonna stay? Do you guys have anything planned yet? You're coming to dinner with us tonight, right?" 

"Wow, that's a lot of questions," I stalled. "What are you doing here? Are you working on the new album, or did you just happen to be here?" 

"I'm here with Justin," she said. 

Of course. How I could work in a high school and have somehow forgotten that Britney and Justin were dating was completely beyond me. 

"Oh, right," I said. 

"Yeah, we went to get some lunch, and Justin had this interview thing, but he wanted to change before dinner, and a bunch of his clothes are here," she explained. 

At that moment Justin walked in. 

"Brit? Oh, there you are," he said. 

He noticed me, and walked over, holding his hand out. 

"I met you once," he said, his face scrunched as if he was trying to remember where. 

"I'm Jack," I said, shaking his hand. Like Josh, Justin had a stronger grip than I would have guessed. 

"JC's friend," Britney added. 

"Oh, yeah, your car caught on fire!" Justin said, his eyes lighting up. "Sorry I was asleep for that. It was probably really cool." 

"It kind of was," I said, shrugging. "Except, you know, that I could have been inside it." 

"Yeah, that would've sucked, " he agreed. 

I had only seen Justin up close once before, for about a minute, and I hadn't really thought about how young he really was. He was only twenty, but it was a young twenty. A good looking twenty, but a very young twenty. Chris walked in with a magazine and sat down on one of the other couches and began thumbing through it. 

"I'm ready," Justin said, hugging Britney. 

"No, you're not," she said, stepping back. "Dinner's casual. Go change." 

Justin looked down at his sparkling silver shirt and shiny black vinyl pants. 

"This is casual," he said, shrugging. 

"Low key," Britney emphasized, her eyes were bulging. "I said casual, for a casual, low key dinner. Go change." 

"I'm sorry, baby," he said. 

"Show me you're sorry by changing your clothes," she said, crossing her arms over her ample bosom, causing her breasts to squeeze together in a cleavage enhancing way. 

"OK," he said, leaving the room. 

"So, back to you," Britney said, taking my hand and leading me back to the couch. "JC said you're a librarian. I'm an author. My mom and I wrote a book, you know." 

"I saw it at the bookstore, once," I said, nodding my head. "I didn't get a chance to read it." 

"I think I have an extra copy out in the car," she said. Behind us I heard Chris snicker. Britney turned to glare at him. 

"Sorry," he said. "Frog in my throat. Sorry." 

"Actually," I began, "A lot of our students requested a copy for the library's fiction section. Maybe you could donate a few." 

"I'd love to!" she said, taking my hand again. She was just an outgoing, touchy sort of person. "That would be so cool!" 

Justin walked in again, this time in a sleeveless yellow t-shirt and dark blue jeans with yellow stars all over them. Britney frowned. 

"No," she said. Justin left the room as Chris quickly covered his giggles with a coughing fit. 

"You ok?" I asked him, looking at him over Britney's shoulder. I rolled my eyes, sending him into further giggles. 

"Fine, just fine," Chris said, his smile tugging his beard out of shape. "I think I need a drink." 

"Could you get me a Diet Pepsi?" Britney asked sweetly, blinking. 

"Somethin' in your eye?" Chris asked, staring at her. "Jack, you thirsty?" 

"Kind of," I lied, eager to escape a further discussion of Britney's writing career. "I'll help you carry it." 

I jumped up and followed Chris from the room. Behind us I heard Britney say, "No, go change." Glancing back, I saw Justin sulking down the hall in track pants and a ripped t- shirt, held together with safety pins. Chris laughed again, and I glanced at him. 

"Hey, I love Justin, and Brit, too, but the two of them," he said, shaking his head. "It's like this all the time." 

"I'm used to it," I said, laughing as we walked into a small kitchenette. "I work in a high school." 

"That's right," he said, rummaging through the refrigerator. "They really do seem to love each other, though. It's not just puppy love." 

"Good for them," I said, taking a can and a bottle water from Chris. "JC will want that water when he's done. I think the one he has in there with him is empty." 

"Thanks," I said. I should have thought of that. 

"No problem," Chris said, standing. He had cans of soda for he and Britney both. "So, JC has really been looking forward to you coming out here." 

"Has he?" I asked, smiling. "I'm pretty excited about being here." 

"Yeah, it's all he's been talking about for the past couple days," Chris said. "Jack this, Jack that, you know." 

I wasn't sure what to say, so I didn't say anything. 

"It's nice to see JC happy," Chris said. "You guys are pretty close?" 

"Yeah, we're close," I answered. Ahead of us, I saw Justin slouching back down the hall in leopard print pants and a black beater. 

"Glad to hear it," Chris said. "I think he needed a friend like you." 

Leaving me to ponder that one, Chris delivered Britney her beverage, and the three of us returned to our seats. Just as we had settled back onto the couches Justin returned, this time looking rather normal in jeans and a Tommy Hilfiger rugby shirt. Britney jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. 

"Oh, baby, you look so cute!" she squealed, pushing him back to stare at him and then hugging him again. 

"Not as cute as you," he said, kissing her cheek. 

"No, you're cuter," she said, pecking him quickly on the lips. 

"No, you're cuter," he said, pulling her close for a loud, slurping tongue-kiss. 

Britney's hands wandered over Justin's shoulders and down his back. Justin had his hands on her ass, and was lightly squeezing as he hummed into her mouth. The two of them giggled and continued kissing, Britney pushing Justin up against the wall, as their hands wandered all over each other. Chris and I looked at each other, and I had to put a hand over my mouth to smother my giggles as Chris sighed and went back to his magazine. In the recording room, Josh stopped singing, and began to collect his things. Justin and Britney wandered over to a couch and sat down. She was snuggled up against him, holding both of his hands with hers. 

"So, what did you do while I was gone?" he asked. 

"Talked to Jack," she answered, kissing his chin. 

"What else did you do?" he asked. Both of them were speaking in these really annoying yet somehow cute little kid voices. 

"Missed you," she answered, kissing his chin again. 

"That's good," he said, kissing her on the forehead. "Because I missed you, too." 

"Jack," Josh said softly from right behind me. I almost jumped off my couch, and turned to see him bent down, his face close to mine. I was looking right into his sparkling blue eyes. 

"Josh!" I said, jumping up. "You scared me." 

I ran around the couch and then stopped, unsure of what he wanted me to do. He answered my question by wrapping me in a quick hug. 

"It's good to see you!" he said, pressing me against him. I hugged him back, just as hard, feeling his firm torso beneath the t-shirt. 

"You, too," I said, pulling him even tighter. 

Josh pulled away, grinning, and I realized everyone else in the room was staring at us. Chris' expression was neutral, but Justin and Britney looked a little baffled by the enthusiasm of Josh's greeting. 

"Did you meet everyone?" he asked, stepping away from me a little. 

"Yeah, yeah I did," I answered. 

He hadn't told them. I wasn't disappointed, really, but I was surprised. It seemed unlike him to be secretive, but he knew the rest of them better than I did. Maybe he had his reasons. Whatever they were, I wasn't about to force anything on Josh. He could make his decisions about who he shared his personal life with in his own time, and until then I would follow his lead. 

"JC, why don't you run and go get changed, and we can all talk over dinner?" Britney suggested. 

"Yeah, ok," Josh said, grabbing my suitcase. "We can put your suitcase in my dressing room, and come back for it later. Come on, I'll show you around." 

"Sure," I said, following him. 

"We don't really have a home studio," Josh began, as we walked down the hall. "But we recorded most of our last album out here, and we were pretty satisfied with the way it turned out. Is this your first time in a studio?" 

"Yeah," I answered. "Chris showed me around a little. He seems nice. Actually, they all do." 

"Yeah, I hoped you'd like them," he said. 

"Where's everyone else?" I asked. 

"We're taking a few days off from recording," Josh answered. "Joey and Lance both flew home to visit their families, but they'll be back soon, and then you can meet them again, too. This is my dressing room." 

I followed Josh into the small room. There was a desk, with a mirror, and a couple chairs. As soon as the door was closed, Josh had me in his arms again. 

"Oh, God, Jack, I missed you so much," he said, his hands roaming up and down my back. 

"I missed you, too," I said, grabbing his ass. I squeezed, hard, and felt his hips jerk into mine. 

Josh pushed me across the room onto the desk, and, grabbing my hips, set me on top of it. I felt his lips brushing mine again, hard, almost bruising my mouth with the way he was kissing me. His little strip of beard scraped my chin, and then his mouth was sliding down as his head nuzzled under my neck. He nipped lightly at my jawbone, and I felt his soft hair brush my chin. I grabbed double-handfuls of his shirt and pulled it off of him, and he stepped back with his arms up, shrugging out of it. Pulling him closer, I attacked his mouth with equal fervor, pulling him into one of the long, deep kisses he liked. 

Not breaking our liplock, I slid off of the desk and turned, moving Josh along with me, so that he ended up leaning against the desk. His hands were still roving over my back and into my hair as I moved slowly down him, from his mouth to his chin to his adam's apple, sucking it into my mouth for a second before snaking my tongue over his collarbone. Dropping lower, I savored the warm smoothness of his chest, feeling his pecs jump as I painted my way across them, clamping my mouth over a nipple and twirling my tongue around it. 

"Oh, Jack," he moaned, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. 

Josh grabbed the edge of the desk with his hands, and began squeezing it hard as I worked my way lower. I outlined his abs with my tongue, and dipped it quickly into his navel, before sliding past the track pants. I could see his hard cock throbbing through them, and I lunged onto it, mouthing it through the fabric. 

"Oh, God, Jack," he moaned, his hands flexing on the edge of the desk as I pushed my tongue against him through the pants. 

I felt Josh's hands on the side of my head. 

"Jack," he moaned, pulling on me. 

Not realizing that he was pushing me away, I continued my oral assault on him. 

"Jack," he said, a little more forcefully. 

I looked up at him from my knees. His face, so handsome always, looked even more so when it was flushed. I could see track of my spit gleaming on his heaving, panting chest, and both of his nipples stuck straight out, hard and sensitive. 

"Yeah, baby?" I asked. 

"Jack, this isn't the time for this," he panted. 

"You sure?" I asked, lightly stroking his cock with my hand. A large wet spot was forming on the front of his pants. 

"Unfortunately, yes," he answered. His voice was a little husky, both from desire and from the singing he'd just completed. "Everyone's waiting for us for dinner. I need to get changed." 

"If you insist," I said, sighing. I stood, and Josh lifted my chin with his fingers, bringing my eyes level to his. He leaned in and kissed me softly and tenderly. 

"I missed you, Jack," he said again. "I'm glad you're here." 

"I'm glad to be here, Josh," I said, leaning with my hands on his smooth chest. I liked to feel his heart beating beneath my palm. "You know that." 

"I know, but I never get tired of hearing you say it," he said. 

"I love you," I said. "Ever get tired of hearing that?" 

"Nope," he said, laughing. He pulled away from me and stripped off the track pants. "Could you hand me those pants there? This room isn't really designed for two people." 

"Sure," I said, handing him a pair of cargo pants. I pointed at his crotch. "You might want to leave your shirt untucked. You know, until your little problem subsides." 

"Little?" he asked, looking down at his crotch. "I really haven't heard you complain." 

"Nor will you," I promised. "'Little' is definitely not the word I'd use for what you're packing." 

"The same goes for you," he said, laughing. "Geez, we sound as bad as Curly and Brit." 

I shook my head, laughing. We couldn't be that bad. 

"One last thing," he began. "After dinner, your ass is mine." 

"No objections to that," I said, smiling. "But I have one last thing to discuss, too. About us." 

---

CHAPTER 8

---

"So, Josh," I began. "I gather you haven't told your friends about me." 

Josh turned, pants in hand. His eyes were wide, and he had a look of concern on his face. I had to force myself to keep looking at his eyes because he was also standing there in those clinging, enticing boxer briefs that he loved. They hugged him just tight enough to suggest nudity, and remind me of the smooth lines of his form, but covered just enough to leave a little to the imagination, and I was trying to keep my imagination under control. 

"No, I haven't, Jack," he said, sighing. He sat down on the desk, and I sat next to him, allowing him to rest his head on my shoulder. "Is it a problem for you?" 

"Josh, of course not," I said, draping an arm across his shoulders. I hugged him tightly to me. "I told you, do what you need to in your own time, and I'll support whatever you want to do." 

"I wanted to tell them," he said, keeping his head on my shoulder. I idly stroked his hair, trying to soothe him as he twisted the cargo pants with both hands. "I kept meaning to, and there just never seemed to be a good time." 

"Josh, nothing says you have to tell them," I said. "If you're not ready, you're not ready, and I'll be here until you are, unless, you know, you want me to go." 

"No!" he said, turning finally and hugging me tightly. He was almost panicking, his face buried against my chest. 

"Josh, calm down," I said. 

"I don't want you to leave," he said. "I just don't know what to do. I feel like I'm lying to my friends, and I don't want that, but I'm scared of what they're going to say." 

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid, Josh," I said. I pulled his head up. His eyes, sparkling sapphires, glistened in a pool of unshed tears. "Josh, look at me. I love you. So do your friends. Do whatever you think is best, and do whatever your heart tells you, but don't do it because you're scared of what someone else will think, not even what you think I might think. OK?" 

"OK," he said. 

I leaned down a little and kissed him on the forehead. 

"Now, if there isn't time for me to take care of Little Josh in here, there definitely isn't time for you to have a breakdown," I said, smiling. "Let's get you dressed, and then go out with your friends and get some dinner. Everything else will happen as it happens." 

"Yeah, ok, I'll get dressed, " he said, jumping up. 

I sat back on the desk and watched him shrug into a pair of cargo pants and a long- sleeved orange t-shirt. As he sat down to pull socks and shoes on, I thought about what had just happened. Clearly Josh was having some issues still, as much as he said he was comfortable with who he was. I didn't want to force the issue, remembering how scared I was to come out to any of my friends at first, feeling instead that my job was just to be here to support him. At the same time, though, my being with him was probably going to force the issue at some point regardless of what he wanted. Josh was walking a narrow rope, and I sincerely hoped that he'd get through without being hurt. 

Transferring his wallet into his pocket, Josh turned and hugged me again, pulling me off of the desk and to my feet. 

"I love you," he said, crushing me against him. "And I love having you here." 

"I love you, and there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be," I said. 

Leaning back, I kissed him quickly, just nipping my tongue into his mouth for barely a moment, and then I smoothed his hair back into place. It had gotten a little messy when he was grinding his head against my chest. 

"Let's go get some dinner," he said, finally opening the door. 

"Sure," I said, following. I wanted very badly to hold his hand, and noticed that he was wringing his hands nervously. "Josh, calm down, please." 

"Sorry," he said, looking at his hands as if just now realizing what he was doing. 

We walked back into the bubble, and Chris looked up from his magazine and smiled. Justin and Britney were facing each other on the couch, deeply engrossed in some game that involved alternating kissing each other's noses and babbling in baby talk to each other, but they still somehow seemed aware of our return. 

"So, where are we going for dinner, kids?" Chris asked. 

"I don't know," Josh answered. 

"Where do you want to go?" I asked. 

"I think Jack should pick, since he's the guest," Britney said. 

"Oh, you're so sweet," Justin said, kissing her nose. 

"No, you're sweet," Britney said, kissing him back. 

"Jack, hurry, while I can still keep food down," Chris said, looking away from them. 

"I don't really know anywhere here in town," I said, shrugging. "I mean, where does one go to eat around here?" 

Chris laughed, standing. 

"You're in LA, Jack," he said, slapping my shoulder, buddy-style. "We can eat anything, anywhere." 

"I don't know," I said, shrugging again. I searched my mind for anything I knew about Los Angeles. "How about Planet Hollywood?" 

"We haven't eaten there in a while," Josh said, shrugging. 

"We'll do the tourist thing, then," Chris said, smiling. "It'll be fun." 

"Should we call them?" I asked. Josh and Chris looked at me blankly. "We don't have reservations." 

Chris and Josh both laughed this time. 

"Jack, you forget who you're with?" Chris asked. 

"We don't need reservations, " Josh said, his hand on my other shoulder. He squeezed, just once, and then let it drop. 

"Yo, lovebirds!" Chris yelled. "Let's go." 

He was yelling at Justin and Britney, who jumped up off the couch, but Josh and I glanced at each other, and Chris saw it, his mouth twisting into a little half-smile. I didn't think he saw me notice him, but I sighed inwardly, thinking again of Josh and the potential for his feelings to be hurt. 

We decided to take separate cars, because Chris wanted to go to the video store after dinner, and we needed to stop at the studio when we were done eating to get my bags. Justin and Britney offered to let us ride with them, but we didn't want them to have to go out of their way. That was our excuse, anyway. Really we just wanted to be able to hold hands in Josh's Jaguar. 

"Very nice automobile," I said, sliding over the leather seats. I felt as if my little Dodge was somewhat inferior by comparison. 

"Thanks," he said, putting my hand over his on the gearshift. "Justin told me to buy it." 

"So you did?" I asked, giggling. "I never would have taken you for a follower." 

"Well, you know, he didn't really have to twist my arm," Josh said, laughing. "I mean, it's a Jag." 

"So it is," I agreed. 

Josh drove really well. I tried to keep track of where we were, looking at street signs, but eventually I just got caught up in the sights of a big city at night. It was even more exciting if you drove past somewhere famous every once in a while. Josh pointed things out as we went, enjoying my wide-eyed wonder. I really needed to get out more. 

"So, what do you want to do while you're here?" he asked. "Is there anything you want to see?" 

"Well, I already saw the Hollywood sign," I said. "I was thinking maybe we could see the La Brea tarpits, maybe do a couple of museums, or go to the Beverly Center. I really don't know, Josh." 

"You flew all the way out here and all you want to do is go to the Beverly Center?" he asked, laughing. 

"Well, I've seen it on TV," I said, shrugging. "I haven't really thought about anywhere I want to go, Josh. I was just thinking about coming out to see you." 

I squeezed his hand, and we both sighed. I remembered what Carla said, and started giggling. 

"What?" Josh asked, smiling. 

I explained what Carla had said, about how we'd spend my whole trip mooning around his house, sighing and having a lot of sex, and we both laughed. I went on to tell him a couple of Carla stories, and told him a little bit about how close she and I were. 

"I'm sorry I didn't get to meet her," he said. "We'll have to hang out on the next trip." 

"She'd love to," I said. "Your friends are a lot of fun." 

"You like them? Really?" he asked, smiling again. "I'm glad." 

"Yeah, Chris is really nice, and Britney and Justin are really cute together," I said. 

"Yeah, she's actually really good for him," Josh said. "He and I used to be a lot closer, but he started dating her, and then I spent a lot of time pushing everyone away after I met you." 

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. Did Justin resent me? Had he said something to Josh? 

"Don't be," Josh said quickly. "I mean after I first met you. I told you already that I was really confused for a while. Part of that, and working it out, is that I pushed all the guys away. I think it hurt them, and they tried to talk about it a few times, but I never would." 

"Is everything ok now?" I asked. I hadn't really sensed any tension. 

"Oh, yeah, it's gotten a lot better," Josh said. "Especially these last two weeks. I mean, we're all close enough that they know I was going through something, and I was really depressed for a while, but I'm coming out of it now." 

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," I said, feeling guilty. All of this could have been avoided if I had stayed in bed that first morning, instead of just leaving the way I did. "Maybe you would have been better off if we hadn't done anything that first night. Maybe I should have left you alone." 

"Jack, no, don't ever say that," Josh said. I was staring out the window, suddenly overcome with the thought of the year's worth of pain he had gone through. "Jack, look at me. Look me right in the eyes and tell me what you see there." 

Turning, I stared into Josh's sapphire eyes, the cobalt discs of sea and sky that I knew so well even after that brief time. They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul, and I stared into Josh's trying to lose myself, trying to get a hint of what was there and what he might see in me with them. 

"I see warmth, and friendship, and trust," I said. "I see all the same things you see when you look at me. And love." 

"That's right," Josh said. "Love. And you don't see any hatred, or blame. What happened before is over. It's in the past. What's important now is that we're together. It doesn't matter how we got here. And if you do feel like you have to beat yourself up over it, don't forget to include some for me. I could have called you any time, and I didn't." 

Josh moved his hand, taking mine and putting it on the gearshift. He folded his own hand over it, and squeezed. I felt the smoothness of his skin, and the strength of his grip. 

"I'm sorry, Josh," I said. "I just feel bad." 

"Don't," he said. "I love you. That's all that matters to me." 

"Then I guess that's all that matters to me, too," I said. I looked down at our hands and smiled. "Hey, I'm practically driving the Jag." 

"Just don't put us in park, and well be fine," he said. 

We rode along in easy silence the rest of the way, my hand under his, feeling the car throb and surge as he shifted gears. I never learned how to drive standard, so I just let my hand be moved as he saw fit. As we approached the restaurant, he gently lifted my hand off of the knob and placed it in my lap. 

"Photographers," he said simply. I nodded. 

As we pulled in at the restaurant I saw Chris standing out front. There was a small crowd of people waiting to get in, but someone had already come out to join Chris as he waited for the rest of us to arrive. Josh handed the car keys to the valet, and then he and Chris waved and let people take pictures while we waited for Justin and Britney. Chris and Josh were very nice, almost as if apologizing because we were about to skip the line, and they walked up and down it shaking hands, posing for pictures with people, and signing things. I stood with the manager, and noticed a man with a large, elaborate camera apparatus snapping pictures of my two friends. I assumed that he was the only actual paparazzo there, because the other people looked pretty touristy. 

When Justin and Britney arrived, Britney gave her keys to the valet, and the four of them posed for a minute or two outside the restaurant as enough flashbulbs went off to light a small town baseball diamond. I tried to stay off to the side, but Josh grabbed my arm and pulled me into the midst of them, so that I ended up standing between Josh and Chris. I found the gesture touching, yet amusing, and tried to explain it to Josh as we followed the manager inside. 

"Josh, nobody wants a picture of me," I said, smiling. 

"I want a picture of you," he said. 

"Me, too," Chris said, smirking. "Because you're so, so dreamy." 

"Shut up, jerk," I said, playfully smacking his arm. "Seriously, though, nobody knows who I am. Why would they want my picture?" 

"We know who you are, because you're our friend, and that's all that's important," Britney said. 

"No, you're all that's important," Justin said, pecking her on the forehead. 

"Besides," Chris said, drowning out the rest of their routine. "Maybe you'll get to be in 'People' or something." 

"But what'll I have to live for after that?" I asked, mock serious. 

Josh, Chris, and Britney cracked up. So did Justin, after a second. 

Josh explained to me that there was only that one photographer out there because celebrities tended to avoid places like this, but looking around as the manager led us to our table you could see that a lot of people were now having a very exciting dinner, just because my friends had come here to eat. The manager was nice enough to find us a table near the back, away from almost everyone, and offered to keep the tables nearest us empty, so that we could enjoy our meal in relative peace and quiet. To thank him, the guys and Britney offered to hang around for a bit after dinner and autograph anything from the gift shop that people wanted signed, and the manager enthusiastically accepted. 

Dinner went well. We ordered appetizers, and managed to stretch out those, dinner, and dessert into a nice, relaxing evening, despite the busy atmosphere around us. None of us had anything to drink stronger than a soda, and they asked me a lot of questions about where I worked, where I'd gone to school, and what I did. Justin, especially, was pretty fascinated with the idea that I worked in an actual high school, and had a lot of odd, funny questions about it. 

"Is it true that if you fail gym you can't graduate? Is it really? Do teachers sit around the faculty lounge and talk about everybody? Do they recycle the school lunches for the next day if people don't eat them all? And why do they taste so bad? Is teaching like on 'Boston Public', which the teachers dating students and the guns and stuff?" 

I answered as many questions as I could, but I also pelted them with questions, too. I was curious about the places they'd been, and what it was like to be on a stage in front of thousands of people on a daily basis. I was curious, too, about what it had been like to work on the "Mickey Mouse Club", since I remembered watching it, and I was really just generally curious to get to know them as people. I'd heard so much about all of them, and read so many conflicting things, that it was interesting hearing what they thought of it. I was especially amused to hear from Chris that most of the statistics on those long lists of favorites and hobbies were just things their publicists made up. 

After dinner, the group stayed true to their promise, and hung around the front of the restaurant signing anything anyone cared to purchase from the gift shop. I bought myself a cap, and the four of them immediately scrawled their names all over it, laughing when I put it on. While they were signing and having pictures taken, one of the waitresses offered to walk me around the restaurant and show me all of the movie memorabilia there, for which I was grateful. She explained that almost everything at their restaurant was authentic, too. At the end of the night, they left generous tips for the manager and staff, although everyone yelled at me when I took my wallet out. 

"You're our guest," Britney protested. 

"And you're on vacation," Josh added. 

"Are you sure you don't mind?" I asked. "Because I can pay it." 

"No!" all four of them said at once. 

We bid everyone a good night, and Josh and I hopped back in his car, to drive over to the studio to collect my suitcase and bag. 

"You know, I'm going to start to feel a little spoiled," I said. 

"But I like to spoil you," Josh said, smiling. 

"What was that?" I said, dropping my hand into his lap. He jumped a little. "You'd like to despoil me? I think that'll have to wait until we get home." 

I gave his package a squeeze, not too hard, and then began to gently rub my hand back and forth over it. I felt his cock growing under my hand, and I began to carefully manipulate it through his pants. Josh shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable. 

"Wow, Josh," I began, watching him squirm and try to concentrate on his driving. "Are you a stick shift, too?" 

"Uh, Jack, uh," he began, fumbling for a response. 

"Do you want me to take it out, Josh?" I asked, carefully tugging down his zipper. "Because I want to." 

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, swallowing. 

"You're probably right," I sighed, sliding my fingers carefully into his pants. Reaching through the flap of his boxer briefs, I wrapped my fingers carefully around his cock, feeling the velvet hardness throbbing beneath them. "Maybe I'll just keep my hand inside here, instead. Do you like that?" 

Josh's hips jerked as I began a deliberately slow handjob, rubbing and squeezing. It was kind of difficult in the confined space of his cargo pants. The car swerved a little. 

"Yeah, Jack," he panted, squirming. His fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. "Jack, I." 

"Yes, Josh?" I asked softly, squeezing again, increasing the pressure and the speed. 

"Jack, I'm," he began. 

I leaned over, so that my mouth was right next to his ear, my hand working even faster of his smooth, hard shaft. 

"Yes, Josh?" I whispered, breathing right into his ear. 

The car swerved again, and Josh let out a little yelping cry as his hips jerked. I felt hot wetness spill over my fingers. He struggled visibly to keep his eyes open and on the road. 

"Oh," I said, giggling. 

"I tried to tell you I was close," he panted, as I pulled my hand out of his pants. 

"That's ok," I said. Catlike, I cleaned my fingers. "There's a big wet spot on your pants, though." 

"I'll change at the studio," he said. "That was really hot, Jack, but, um, kind of intense. Maybe we shouldn't do that while I'm driving." 

"Maybe not," I agreed. "But it sure was fun." 

"I love you," Josh sighed. 

"I never get tired of hearing that," I said, smiling. "I love you, too." 

"Good, because I never get tired of saying it," he said. 

We pulled in at the studio, and Josh hastily rearranged his shirt to make sure the front of his pants was covered. We nodded at the security guard as we went through, and Josh explained to me that he was used to the band coming in at odd times to work on stuff, and that he would stay up at the front and not bother us. I followed Josh into his dressing room, where he closed the door and stripped his pants off, and I dropped to my knees in front of him. 

"Let's get these dirty clothes off you," I said, jerking his boxer briefs down. 

Josh leaned back against the desk as I leaned in and began to lick him clean. I swiped my tongue gently over his balls, and then lapped at his shaft. Despite the fact that he'd just cum seconds before in the car, he was hard again in seconds, and began stroking his hands through my hair as I lapped at his cock, sliding my tongue up and down the shaft and around the head, tickling under the crown. His hands on the back of my head were soft, not pushing, just running through my hair, massaging my skull. Josh sighed as I folded my lips over his head, and slid smoothly down his cock. 

"Oh, Jack," he sighed, his head thrown back. 

We went on like that for several minutes, me slowly sliding up and down his cock, swallowing it, working my lips and tongue over it, doing all the things I'd already learned that he liked. While I proceeded with my oral worship, varying my speed and techniques, Josh moved one hand around to caress the side of my face. I ran my hands up over his calves, feeling the dark hair there brush my fingers, and I rubbed them over his strong, firm thighs, feeling them flex as he pushed more of his cock into my throat. 

I looked up, past his heaving chest straining against his shirt, to his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, and his tongue flicked quickly to moisten his silky, perfect lips. His face was smooth, his expression a mixture of lust and pleasure. Hisbreath was rapidly becoming thready, his moans and pants turning into the short, high-pitched whines that I knew so well. His free hand slid back around to grab my hair, almost painfully, and his eyes popped open, staring into mine as he pulled my head forward and shot down my throat. 

When he was done, I pulled back, letting him slide out of my mouth and licking him clean again. Before I could say anything, he pulled me up by my head and crushed me against him, grinding his mouth into mine. I groaned around his tongue. 

"That was great," he said, pulling back. 

"Yeah, let's get some pants onto you," I said, smiling. 

Josh quickly got dressed, and then offered to show me around the studio, since I hadn't really seen much of it with Chris earlier. Josh took my hand and led me around the hallways, pointing out the offices and archive rooms. We went past the bubble again, which was dark, and past the kitchenette. I asked Josh why they had dressing rooms here, and he explained that they sometimes had to change before recording, into clothes that wouldn't make noise if they moved. He eventually brought me around to one of the technical rooms, pointing out all of the equipment and explaining what it did. 

"Want to see where I was singing today?" he asked. 

"Sure," I said, following him through a large steel door in the back of the recording room as he flicked on a light switch. 

One wall of the room was a dark panel of glass, which I realized was the one facing the bubble. On the opposite wall, there was another window looking into the room we had just come from, and the microphone still hung from the ceiling. 

"This is all pretty cool, Josh, but it's been kind of a long day," I said, yawning. I turned and began to walk toward the door. "Maybe we should head home." 

"Are you sure?" Josh asked, suddenly right behind me. I felt his hands slide up my chest from behind, before they slid down to my waist. "I can think of something else we could do." 

"Josh, not here," I said, not really resisting as his hands undid my belt, and then the button and zipper on my pants. "Someone might come." 

He spun me around and pressed me against the wall, jerking my pants and boxers down as he dropped to his knees in front of me. 

"Somebody will cum," he said, smiling. "You!" 

Josh leaned forward and swallowed me completely before I could say another word. Eyes closed, I pressed my head back against the wall while running my hands through his hair, as he had with mine. Opening my eyes, leaning my head forward to look down at him, I realized that the black window looking onto the bubble was no longer dark. There was a wedge of light from the hallway, spilling into the bubble as a black silhouette walked slowly toward the window to our room. I looked down, wanting to say something to Josh, who was blissfully unaware as he wrapped his lips around my spit-covered shaft, but I was stricken with panic, and couldn't speak. My head down, looking through my hanging bangs, I watched the shadow step closer, finally close enough for some of the light from our window to spill onto him. 

It was Justin. 

---

CHAPTER 9

---

I felt like a deer tapped in headlights. I knew I should say something, but I just couldn't speak. My hair was hanging in my eyes, so Justin couldn't tell that I had seen him, but he'd have to have been looking at me to see it anyway, and he wasn't. 

Justin stopped walking toward us right at the point where light from our window hit him, and he stood there, half shadowed, mouth hanging slightly open in surprise, with his wide eyes fixed on Josh, who was still on his knees, busily working away at my cock with his mouth. Justin had a gym bag of some kind, which he must have left in the bubble earlier, in one hand, but his other hand was absently scratching at his stomach, in that way that guys have of just letting their hands roam over themselves when they're not thinking about it. Through my hair, I watched Justin watching us, and I started to feel turned on by it. If Justin was going to leave the room, the time for that was already past. Instead, like me, he seemed powerless to move. 

Josh pulled back, my wet cock sliding between his lips, and then it popped out of his mouth and smacked against my stomach, leaving a wet mark on my shirt. I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head, letting it catch on the back of my neck and leaving my arms in my sleeves. Rising from his knees, Josh's hands slid up my back as he pressed my torso against him, his lips fastening around one of my nipples. I groaned his name, and used my hands to hold his head there as he attacked my nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around it, nipping at it with his teeth. He slid across my chest, leaving a wide trail of spit with his tongue, and attacked the other nipple with equal fervor. 

In the window, Justin stood frozen still, watching. His mouth was still open, his face still a mask of surprise. His eyes tracked Josh's every move across my body, and that absent- minded hand was still scratching at his stomach, although more slowly, and it had moved a little lower, toward his navel. 

Josh looked up from his attack on my nipples, his hands still roaming over my back, to see me staring down at him. 

"You like that?" he panted. 

"You know it," I answered. 

I felt Josh's goatee scrape over my abs as his face slid back down my torso. The feeling of the short, bristly hair scratching at my skin was almost as erotic as the feeling of his tongue suddenly washing over my balls. Josh pulled one of them into his mouth, folding his lips over it, and sucked for a second before letting it drop and going for the other one. I groaned his name again, and kept my hands locked on the back of his head. 

Through my hair, I saw Justin still watching us. His tongue, quick and pink, flicked out over his bottom lip, and that free hand was still, no longer scratching, just sitting on his abs, just above his waist. 

Josh slid his tongue back up my cock, lapping at it with long, wet strokes, much the same way I'd done to him earlier in the dressing room. He didn't take it back into his mouth, but just kept washing over it, licking and flicking. His lips were smooth, like silk, and his tongue was strong, and somehow soft but a little rough at the same time. Every couple of seconds, as he moved, his beard would brush against me, too, making me moan and tighten my hands on the back of his head. Josh had his hands on my thighs, rubbing the front and back of them, kneading and squeezing a little. 

In the window, Justin's hands slowly, slowly slid down his abs onto his package, but the look on his face hadn't changed. Unconsciously, his hand tugged at the cloth of his pants, as if adjusting. 

Washing his tongue over my shaft one more time, Josh finally rolled his lips back over my cockhead, tightening and flexing them as he slid down past the ridge and then onto my shaft. I moaned, gently easing my hips forward, pushing more of myself into him, and felt my cock sliding through the moist heat of his mouth. Josh's hands slid up onto my ass, squeezing and kneading there as well, as he swallowed me completely, his face pressed against me. 

In the window, Justin's hand, apparently completely without his notice to judge from the continuing frozen expression on his face, began to slowly rub at his crotch, tugging and pulling. 

That was it for me. Throwing my head back, I felt my whole body tense and jerk as I began to cum, hard, down Josh's throat. My hands were still on his head, and my arms tensed, locking, holding him in place as I shot and shot again into his waiting mouth. Josh moaned around my cock, his hands gripping almost painfully on my ass cheeks. My cock slid from his mouth with a wet pop as he stood, my hands still laced through his hair, and began to kiss me. My tongue invaded his mouth as I pulled him closer, tasting him and tasting myself, too, and then my hands finally dropped onto his shoulders as he continued kissing me, and I tried to catch my breath. 

Opening my eyes, I saw that the bubble was dark again. Justin was gone. 

"Aren't you glad we didn't wait until we got home?" Josh asked, smiling. 

He dropped quickly to his knees again, and began to pull my boxers and pants back up. Staying down, he buttoned and zipped them, and then buckled my belt. One hand on his chin, stroking his little strip of goatee with my thumb, I tilted his head up. 

"That was amazing, Josh," I said, smiling. He grinned, basking in my praise. "I love you." 

He stood, and tugged my shirt back over my head, still grinning. Smoothing my hair with his hands, he leaned in and gave me a quick peck on my lips. 

"I love you, too," he said, grinning again. "Ready to go home now?" 

"Sure," I answered. 

We collected up my bags, and left the studio. I saw no evidence on the way out that Justin had been there, but really, what would he leave? A note? "Hi Guys, stopped by to watch the blowjob. Call me for lunch tomorrow." Somehow I didn't see that happening. The guard wished us a good night on our way out, but didn't say anything about Justin. Then again, why would he? As Josh said, he was used to the guys coming in at all hours. 

As we drove across town I was quiet, staring out the window and trying to figure out what all of this meant. I was sure Justin hadn't noticed me watching him, as his eyes had been fixed on Josh the entire time. Like wise, I knew Josh hadn't seen Justin, because Josh had been facing me the whole time. And why, exactly, had I not said anything? Shouldn't I have stopped Josh, or at least let him know we had an audience? I'd never had a voyeuristic side before, but watching Justin watch us had been kind of exciting. Should I say something to Josh now? Or should I say something to Justin? Should I wait until Justin said something to Josh? 

I didn't know what the hell I should do, or even who I should ask. As far as I knew, none of my friends had ever been in the position of having their closeted boyfriend's straight best friend watch them get a blowjob that apparently turned on all three parties involved. 

"Hey, you're awfully quiet," Josh said, reaching over to put my hand on the gearshift again. 

"I'm sorry," I said, smiling. "I guess I'm just tired from the plane ride and all." 

"Oh, Jack, I forgot what a long day it's been for you," he sighed. "I better get you home to bed." 

We finally pulled up at a large, vaguely Spanish Mission style apartment building, all tan adobe and red tile roofs, with palm trees whispering softly out front in the breeze. Josh thumbed a remote on the dashboard, and a gated driveway on the side swung open. He nudged the Jag inside next to Chris's Jeep, and we unloaded my suitcases. I followed Josh through a small archway, and into the tiled courtyard. There was a large pool in the center, surrounded by lounge chairs, a table with chairs, and potted palms, and one wall of the courtyard was taken up by a door to the laundry room, a smaller archway with a gate through which the street could be seen, and a door to the trash room. In the smaller archway I could also see mailboxes. The three remaining walls each had a door on the first floor, and a door above it on the second, set back behind the rail of a covered walkway. 

"You guys live in 'Melrose Place'?" I asked, looking around. 

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" Josh asked, laughing. "That's us up there in the middle, and Chris below us. This is where Jackie, the manager, lives, but you'll probably never see her. Up above her is Joey, and on the other side of us up there is Justin, and Brit when she's here. That last one is Lance's." 

"You own this place?" I asked, looking around. It wasn't seedy or anything like that, but I really expected them to live in big houses or something. 

"No, the record company rents it for us," Josh said, laughing again. "It's really nice, it's all furnished, and it gives us privacy." 

"I see that it gives Jackie a nice, smaller apartment," I observed, noticing that the archway to the parking area cut into her apartment. 

"I'm sure her cats don't mind," Josh snickered. 

I followed him up the curving spiral staircase to the second level, thinking that it must be a lot of fun moving furniture up that. Josh unlocked the door to his apartment, flicked on the lights, and I followed him inside. It was nice inside, if a little plain. The front room was a combination living and dining room, and the kitchen was in a little alcove. I could see the bathroom through one open door, but the other two were closed. 

"I have two bedrooms," Josh began, opening one of the doors. "But I set this one up as kind of my studio." 

Looking inside, I saw that there was a keyboard on a stand, some sound equipment that I couldn't identify, and a desk with a computer. The bed and dresser were kind of shoved off to the side, to make room for all the other stuff. 

"You can stay here if you want to," he began again. "Or you can stay in my room if you want to." 

"If you don't mind, I'd kind of like to stay with you," I said, smiling. 

"I was hoping you'd say that, " Josh said, smiling back. 

I followed him to the other bedroom, which was the same size as the first but seemed larger somehow, because it was more open. Before Josh could say anything, we both heard the noises coming through the wall. Having lived on campus for all four years of college, I immediately recognized the sound of people having sex in the next room, the squeaking of a bed and the thump of a headboard against the wall. I looked at Josh, giggling, and saw that he was turning red. 

"We, um, we share that wall with Justin and Brit," he said, looking at the floor, trying to hold in his giggles too. 

"I have an idea," I said, setting down my bags and tugging my shirt off. "Why don't we give them a run for their money?" 

"You're kidding, right?" he asked, kicking off his shoes. 

"About wanting them to hear us through the wall, yes," I answered. "About wanting you to fuck me, right here, right now, no. Do you have a spare blanket?" 

"A couple in the closet," he answered. "You want to put them on the floor?" 

"God, no," I answered. 

We retrieved the blankets from the closet, and, pulling the bed out from the wall a little, draped them over the headboard, creating a cushion between the bed and the wall. 

"There," I said, shaking the bed a little to test it. 

The noise from next door continued throughout this entire process. 

Smirking, I walked over to Josh, and put my hands on his shoulders. 

"Now, where were we?" I asked, leaning in. 

"I think," Josh began, leaning in to kiss me again, "that we were about to spend some quality time together." 

I giggled. 

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now?" I asked, pulling his shirt over his head. 

"As good a name as any," Josh answered. 

We were both feeling kind of playful, our earlier adventures having taken a little of the edge off. 

"You want me to light some candles?" Josh asked, carefully removing my belt. 

I giggled again. 

"Why? Are there a few thousand hidden in the closet somewhere?" I asked, pulling off his belt. I slid my hand down the front of his pants, wrapping my fingers around his cock again. He wasn't fully hard, but was getting there. "What I really want, Joshua, is your cock, in my ass, right now. No candles, no massage, just a nice, long fuck." 

Josh put his hands on my chest and pushed, hard, grinning at me. I bounced onto the bed, noting humorously that the headboard only made a low, muffled thump against the wall. 

"I think I can handle that," he said, stepping out of his pants 

He peeled off his boxer briefs, struggling to pull them over his now hard cock, which jutted out from his pelvis, throbbing. Tossing them aside, he stood on one leg, storklike, to remove his sock, and then repeated it with the other leg. Still giggling, he approached the bed, dick bouncing in front of him. I was giggling right along with him, as he pulled off my socks, and then jerked my pants off without even unbuttoning them. Good thing they were a little big, or they might not have made it over my own steely prick. 

The noise from next door continued through all of this like a metronome, thump thump thump, squeak squeak squeak. I think it was adding to our overall giddy mood in an immature sort of way. 

We rolled around on the bed for a minute, wrestling, kissing, grinding against each other. I liked the feeling of Josh's smoothly muscled body sliding over mine, and I liked hearing him gasp and chuckle softly as my roaming hands tickled and tweaked. I had forgotten the feel of his chest against my tongue, and the smell of him, the fresh pleasant smell of his soap and cologne mixed with just the natural clean smell of Josh himself. I had also forgotten the feel of Josh's hands, silken and smooth but strong, firmly pressing and kneading and exploring every inch of my body. I had missed the feeling of his hair brushing against my skin as his head dipped and bobbed while his tongue did some exploring of its own, running over my muscles, or up my spine. 

"I missed you," Josh sighed, his hands on my chest as he kissed between my shoulder blades. 

"I missed you, too," I answered. 

I turned, and watched as Josh leaned over and opened the top drawer of the nightstand, fishing out lube and condoms. 

"I see you've learned to keep things close to the bed," I said, laughing again as Josh squirted some lubricant onto his fingers. 

"Yeah, I picked up some pointers on this trip I went on a couple weeks ago," Josh chuckled, going to work on my ass. He handed a condom to me. "Open, please?" 

"Aren't we the eager beaver?" I said, tearing it open. I handed it back, and felt him slide his knees between mine, pushing my legs open. 

"Beaver has absolutely nothing to do with this," he answered, tossing the tube aside. I felt him, slick and hard, between my asscheeks, and I tried to hold still to help him aim. "We never got around to trying this way in bed." 

"Yeah, but we did in the shower," I said, grunting a little as I felt his head push in. 

"This is different, though," Josh said, nibbling at my neck as he slid in. "That was standing up." 

"At least your comforter isn't going to give me rugburn," I sighed. 

Josh began to pump slowly in and out of me, easing back and forth, kissing my neck, nibbling my ears, and panting my name. 

"Josh, slide up the bed a little with me," I said, shifting a little. 

Slowly, to keep him inside, I lifted myself to my knees, sliding forward to wrap my hands around the top bar of the headboard on either side of the folded blankets. There was enough of a pad to keep my fingers from being smashed against the wall, and I felt Josh's hands fold over mine, pressing them to the headboard as he used it for leverage, pushing in harder and faster. He began to match his thrusts to the timing of the sounds still coming through the wall, but I was unsure of whether or not he was doing it consciously. 

With a grip and a rhythm, Josh settled in for a nice, long fuck, and I gave it right back to him, pushing against him every time he pressed forward. Josh was in prime physical shape, used to the continuous exercise of dancing for hours on end, but as a hobby long distance runner, I had enough endurance to go right along with him, making us a more or less perfect match. I writhed beneath Josh, impaled like a bug on a pin, feeling his chest slide over my shoulder blades, his nipples, hard and pointed, pushing into my back. His hands flexed over mine, our fingers intertwined on the bedspread. 

On the other side of the wall, I heard Justin pounding away at Britney, our beds hitting the wall together with solid thuds and thumps. I doubted that they could hear us over their own noise, but we could hear them, since we were already listening for it. 

"Let go," Josh panted into my ear. 

His hands, no longer gripping the bedframe, slid up my sweaty, heaving chest, sliding over my nipples and grabbing my shoulders as Josh reared up, pulling me up with him. He was now kneeling, squatting on his haunches, and I was resting on top of him, my legs on either side of his, held in place by his strong arms and his pistoning cock. On of his hands dropped down, quickly tweaking my nipple as it snaked over my abs, and his fingers wrapped around my cock. He began to jerk me, hard and fast, in time to his increasingly hard, quick thrusts. 

"Jack, Jack, Jack," he panted, whispering my name over and over with every thrust. 

"Do it, Josh, do it," I encouraged, close to the edge. 

Josh began to exhibit his tell-tale signs that he was close, those high pitched moans that I'd grown to love hearing. Unable to hold myself back any longer, between the sound of his satisfaction and the waves of pleasure rolling through me, I shot my load across the top of the bed, barking out his name. My convulsions against his slick torso set off a chain reaction, and Josh pinned me back against him as he pulsed into me. The two of us collapsed forward onto the bed, me being careful to roll us off to the side a little. I didn't want to land in cum, even if it was my own. 

Telling me softly that he loved me, Josh pulled out of me, and padded quickly across to the bathroom. As the toilet flushed, I crawled under the covers, peeling them down a little for him to slide in and spoon his back against me. I rained kisses down onto his shoulders as he purred contentedly. Behind us, the noise from Justin's bedroom finally stopped with a few finals smacks against the wall. 

"Jesus," Josh mumbled. 

"Thank God," I whispered, as we both giggled. "Are they always like that?" 

"Sometimes, but never for this long at once," he answered, snuggling back against me. "Somebody must have been pretty horny." 

I was willing to bet I knew who. 

Despite feeling completely drained by the long, long day, I was up first in the morning, because my body insisted it was much, much later than the clock said. The bedroom smelled faintly of sweat and sex, and Josh was curled peacefully on his side. A soft glow peeking around the shades made his smooth, soft skin appear to radiate, as if the light was somehow coming from inside, and I watched him thoughtfully for a moment before going to the bathroom to brush my teeth. 

Sliding on a pair of clean boxers from my suitcase, I tried to keep my noise to a minimum as I settled myself into one of the chairs in the living room with my book, propping my feet up on the ottoman. The chair was soft, and overstuffed, and I felt almost like it was hugging me as I lost myself in my novel for a while. Eventually I heard Josh stirring in the bedroom, and as soon as he was fully awake he peered out into the living room. 

"Good morning," I said quietly, waving from my chair. 

"Hi," he said, smiling. His expression was hard to read, but looked almost like relief. 

"You ok?" I asked, wondering if maybe he'd pulled a muscle last night or something. 

"Yeah, it's nothing," he said, walking across to the bathroom. "I just woke up in the bed, and, you know, never mind." 

I sighed, but I was willing to never mind if he was. 

"I was going to make coffee, " I began, listening to him brush his teeth, "but I couldn't figure out how to operate the machine." 

I had actually stared at it blankly, not even certain of where to put the coffee in, but I wasn't about to admit that. 

"Don't worry about it," he said, turning on the shower. "I'm going to take a fast shower, and then I'll run out and get us some breakfast, ok?" 

"Are you sure?" I asked. "We could just make something here." 

"No we can't," he answered. "I didn't have time to go shopping." 

I laughed and went back to my book. 

When Josh was done in the shower, I took one, and he left for the store sometime while I was in there. Drying off, I threw on shorts and a t-shirt, not being really sure of what, if anything, we had planned for the day. I was looking through the drawers in the kitchen for an instruction booklet for the damned coffeemaker when I heard a knock at the door. Assuming Josh had forgotten his key, or had his hands full, I pulled it open without asking who it was, and discovered Chris on the doorstep. 

"Oh, Chris, hi!" I said quickly. 

"I heard the shower going, so I figured you were awake," he said. "Bad time?" 

"Oh, no, I just thought you were Josh," I said. 

"He's not here?" Chris asked. 

"He ran out to get us some breakfast," I said. 

"Oh, damn," Chris said, holding up a white paper bag. "I thought maybe I'd come up and have breakfast with you guys." 

"I'm sure he'll be back in a minute or two," I said, stepping aside to let him in. "You can come in if you want." 

For all I knew Chris came up for breakfast every morning. Who was I to turn him away? I took a quick look out around the courtyard, but didn't see Josh anywhere. Chris crossed over to the refrigerator, and opened it to put the bag inside. While he was doing that I realized that the bedroom door was open, and the bed unmade, so I quickly darted across the room to slam it shut, a little too loudly. Chris jerked his head up in surprise at the sound, his eyes wide beneath his spiky dark hair, as I tried to stand nonchalantly next to the door. 

"Bedroom's messy," I said, shrugging. 

"That one's JC's room," Chris said blandly. 

"And he's such a slob," I said, walking quickly over to the counter. "I wouldn't want you to think less of him." 

"No reason why I would, is there?" Chris asked. 

"Of course not. What a silly thing to say," I blurted, following it with brittle laughter. 

Chris chuckled dryly along with me. Oh, yeah, this was going well. And I'd been worried about Josh acting nervous? I wasn't going to pick up a daytime emmy with this performance, much less an academy award. 

"I'd offer you coffee, but I can't figure out how to operate the machine," I said. Yeah, that would make me look smart. 

"I told JC the machine was too much when he bought it," Chris said, shaking his head. He looked speculatively at the controls. "Are there beans in it?" 

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "I couldn't figure out where they'd go. This is new, then?" 

"Yeah," Chris answered, staring at me. "He said he had to get a machine, because you were coming and you drink coffee in the morning. I tried to get him to get one of those little, you know, simple ones, but he had to get the biggest, fanciest machine. You know JC." 

"Yeah, I guess I do," I agreed. 

We looked at each other awkwardly for a moment. 

"Jack, I came up because I wanted to talk to you guys," Chris began. 

"Talk to us about what?" Josh asked, pushing the front door open. 

He had a bag in one hand, holding it by the rolled-down top, and was balancing two Starbucks cups in a little holder in the other. 

"Hey, let me get that," I said, taking the bag from him quickly. "Chris brought some breakfast stuff, too." 

I retrieved Chris's bag from the refrigerator as we all settled into the padded dinette chairs. 

"Chris? What did you want to talk to us about?" Josh asked, handing me my coffee. 

Chris sighed and looked at his hands. 

"I wanted to talk about you guys, actually," he said. Josh went white. 

"What about us?" I asked carefully. 

"About the two of you," Chris answered. "About the two of you, and what you're doing. I figured it out. I know about you." 

Josh dropped his coffee, spilling it across the table. 

---

CHAPTER 10

---

"Jesus!" Chris yelped, as we all skittered back from the table, as if it were acid rolling toward us and not coffee. 

"I'll get some paper towels, " I said, turning toward the kitchen. 

Josh had jumped up so quickly his chair fell over, backward, onto the carpet. He was staring at Chris, his eyes wide, face white, breathing quickly. His jaw was moving a little, as if he was fumbling for words. I grabbed his arm, and he jumped. 

"Josh, pick up your chair," I said, walking to the kitchen counters. 

"Uh? Yeah," he said quickly, glancing at me. 

"Let me help you with that," Chris said, taking some paper towels from me. 

"Haven't helped enough yet?" I whispered. Josh was staring at the tabletop. 

The two of us returned to the table, Chris setting down and me blotting up the coffee. Returning to the kitchen area to throw the paper towels away, I grabbed three plates and a coffee cup, and walked back over to where Josh and Chris were staring uncomfortably at each other. Josh was still white, but at least he was breathing normally, and Chris was shifting in his chair. I poured half of the coffee Josh had brought me into the cup I'd brought, and pushed it over to him. 

"So," I began, sipping mine. The two of them looked at me blankly. "It's not like we can laugh it off and pretend you didn't say anything. Obviously we need to talk. Who wants to start?" 

"I didn't mean to upset you, JC," Chris began. 

"Well you did!" Josh burst, finally speaking. "What the fuck are you trying to do?" 

"Why the fuck are you yelling at me, man?" Chris yelled back. "I'm trying to be your friend!" 

"This is probably going to work out a lot better if nobody yells at anybody," I said quietly, sipping my coffee. 

"I'm sorry," Chris said, leaning back in his chair. "Like I said, I didn't want to upset either of you." 

"Well you did!" Josh blurted again. 

I folded one of my hands over Josh's. 

"This is probably also going to work a lot better if you let Chris finish a sentence," I said. "I've never known you to be rude, especially not to a friend." 

"I'm sorry," Josh said, turning to Chris. "I'm sorry. You just caught me really off guard." 

Chris shrugged. 

"I kind of thought I had to, JC, to get you to talk about this," he said. "You haven't talked to us for months, any of us. It's like you haven't even been here." 

"But I have been here," Josh said, looking away. Even he didn't believe it. 

"Yeah, your body has," Chris said. "You've gone out and done all the shows, and everything else, and maybe nobody outside the band has noticed, but you were just going through the motions, and you have been for a while. You've been on your synthesizer, or playing with your mixing boards, but you haven't really been, well, you, and I'm tired of it. We're your friends, Josh. Everything you've been going through by yourself, you could have had us with you for." 

"Not this," Josh said, shaking his head. 

"Yeah, JC, even this," Chris said. "Did you think I wouldn't be ok with it? Did you think I'd suddenly hate you? You're my friend. I don't care if you're sleeping with Jack." 

Josh stared at him again. 

"What makes you think," Josh began defensively. 

"JC, I live below you," Chris said. "Between the two of you, and the two of them next door, I didn't think I'd get any sleep at all." 

I snickered, and they both looked at me. 

"Sorry," I said, covering my grin with my hand at the thought of Chris lying in bed, staring at the ceiling in wide-eyed sleepless rage. 

"Look, JC, if we're going to talk about this, can't we at least be honest?" Chris asked. "I mean, Jesus, you're holding hands right here at the table, in front of me. Why are you still trying to pretend there's nothing to talk about?" 

"I don't know," Josh said quietly, looking down. He squeezed my hand, hard. 

"Let's try it this way, then, " Chris said, folding his hands in front of him. "JC, are you with Jack?" 

Josh took a deep breath, and squeezed my hand harder still. He looked at me, and I smiled comfortingly, raising my eyebrows. 

"Yes," Josh answered. "Yes, Jack and I are together." 

"Good," Chris said, smiling. His smile was always more of a mirthful little twist of his mouth than a wide, beaming grin, and it was oddly endearing. "I assume you like him, then." 

"I love him," Josh said, not hesitating this time. His voice was strong, and confident. "Jack and I are together, and I love him." 

"Good for you," Chris said. "Jack, how do you feel about JC?" 

"I love Josh," I said, stirring my coffee. Josh was grinning at me, and I realized he had needed this. He was going to be ok. 

"Perfect," Chris said, reaching for the bag he'd brought. "So, I brought croissants. What did you get?" 

"What?" Josh asked, confused again. 

"What did you get us for breakfast?" Chris said slowly, enunciating all the words. 

"You don't want to ask anything else?" Josh asked. 

There was a little wrinkle of puzzlement between his eyebrows, and I wanted to lean over and kiss him, but this was Chris's show. As long as he wasn't hurting Josh in some way, I was going to trust his judgment, and let him play this out however he wanted to. I squeezed Josh's hand reassuringly. 

"Only if you want to tell me, " Chris answered, removing three bottles of orange juice from the bag. 

"Oh, thanks," I said, taking mine. 

"But, then, why did you ask?" Josh asked him. "I don't understand this at all." 

"JC, it's what I've been trying to tell you all along," Chris said. "I'm your friend. As your friend, it bothered the hell out of me that something was hurting you, and you didn't feel like you could talk about it with me. I want to know if something hurts you. I want to help you, because I'm your friend." 

"But Jack isn't hurting me," Josh said. 

"No, he's not," Chris agreed. "You've been happier in the past two weeks than you have in months. You're not just yourself again, you're back, and you're alive, JC. You're the guy I made friends with, and you're happy, but you still won't talk about it. JC, if you're happy, I don't want you to feel like you have to hide that, or keep it to yourself. I want you to share it with me, because I'm your friend, and I want to be happy with you." 

Josh let go of my hand, and took Chris's. 

"I understand," Josh said. "I'm sorry I shut you out. I didn't do it on purpose. I just didn't have anyone to talk to." 

"No, you forgot that you do, " Chris said. "Apology accepted, and I'm sorry I forced this, but I think it needed to be out." 

I snickered again. I was getting really good at ruining serious moments. 

"No pun intended," Chris said, chuckling. "So, what's in your bag?" 

"Cheese Danish," Josh answered, unrolling the top. 

Over the rest of breakfast, Josh and I gave Chris a slightly censored version of our story. Chris was smart enough to intuit where the sex should be, and kept making jokes about it, which had Josh turning red more often than not. I wondered if maybe we needed a better story, with more romance. I mean, "We got drunk, then we had sex," doesn't really make you think of cupids and shooting arrows. Well, maybe the shooting arrows, but that's beside the point. Chris asked a question here and there, mainly about the things Josh had worked out on his own, but he didn't raise the point again that Josh could have talked about it all along, and I respected him for not beating it into the ground. 

After we finished eating, Chris decided to head out for a while, wanting to run errands before he picked up Lance at the airport and claiming that the two of us needed some time alone. He playfully mentioned on his way out that, "You know, I won't be home for a couple hours, at least, so I won't be in my bedroom, below your bedroom, and won't hear any noises that you, or your furniture scraping across the floor, might make," after which I playfully threatened the throw him over the railing, to help him get downstairs faster. Once he had gone, Josh and I decided to quickly wash up the breakfast dishes. 

"So," I began, handing one to him to dry. "That wasn't too bad, was it?" 

"No, no it wasn't," Josh agreed. 

"I'm proud of you," I said, handing him another dish. 

"Why?" he asked, looking at me. 

"Because I think what you just did was very brave," I said. "You just put yourself out there, and left yourself completely vulnerable, and sometimes that's hard to do, but you did it anyway. And that's one of the reasons why I'm proud to be your boyfriend." 

Josh leaned over, and I pecked him on the lips. 

"I love you, too," he said. "But it really wasn't as bad as it could have been. He already kind of knew before I told him." 

"True," I agreed, handing him the last plate. "But still, I think the rest of your friends are probably going to be ok, too. It's like I told you, the same way you told me, these are your best friends. You guys love each other, and they're going to love you for who you are and be happy that you're happy. You'll see." 

"I hope you're right," he said, hugging me. "So what do you want to do today?" 

"Do we have to do something?" I asked, sighing. "I'm still kind of tired, and we have had kind of a bumpy morning. Why don't we just chill out here for a while? Maybe go get some groceries, and just stay around the house?" 

"I think that's a great idea, " he said, still hugging me tightly. 

His strong arms were wrapped around my back, and he was nuzzling his face under my chin, not kissing, just keeping a close, warm contact. 

"You really want to just hang around this apartment all day?" I asked, stroking his hair. 

"As long as you're here, yes, " he answered. 

"Awww, you're so sweet," I said. "That's mushy enough to deserve a little tongue." 

I tilted Josh's head up, and we kissed softly, comfortably, before pulling back. His eyes were fixed on mine, sparkling, blue, and his face had that smooth look of contentment and peace, that look of love that was just for me. We kissed again, and I tried to send the same look back at him, tried to see him with my heart and show him what was in mine. I think I was successful, because that light never stopped shining onto me. 

After we put the dishes away, we ran to the grocery store to pick up a few things, and then stopped at some little specialty food stores on the way home. Josh wanted fresh fruit, and beans for the coffee machine, and lunchmeat from a specific deli, and I just blindly followed along. It was kind of fun, and as Josh had said, mainly it was enjoyable just because I was with him. When we got back from the store, we had lunch, and then decided to just relax. Josh went into the spare bedroom to work on his keyboard, and I went to the living room to read. After a while I needed a change of scene, so I peeked into the bedroom, where Josh was playing away, with a pair of earphones on. 

I slid quietly across the room and leaned over his shoulder, sliding my hands over his chest and just resting them there, on his pecs. He looked up and smiled, and I felt his pecs dance as he reached up to tug the earphones aside. 

"Hi," I said, looking down at him. 

"Hey," Josh said, looking back up at me. 

He slid his hands over mine, and held them there. I felt his heart beating, and I rubbed my nose through his hair. 

"I'm going out to read by the pool for a while, ok?" I asked. 

"Sure," he said. "I'll miss you." 

"How's it going in here?" I asked. There was a lot of scrawled and crumpled paper in front of him. 

"Good," Josh answered. "I'm really making a breakthrough on this." 

"I'll leave you to it, then, " I said, sliding off of him. 

"Thanks," he said, blowing me a kiss. "Come get me when you get bored again." 

I waved as he slid the headphones back on, and then went down to the pool. The lounge chairs turned out to be pretty comfortable, and no one was really around, so I read in silence for a while. At some point I drifted off, and was awakened by a loud splash. Shaking myself awake, I looked up in time to see Justin swim up to the side closest to me. Staying in the pool, he folded his arms on the side, and rested his chin on them. 

"Hi, Jack," he said, smiling. 

His short blond hair glistened in the sun with pool water, which also ran in rivulets down his face. His mouth was a little smaller than Josh's, his lips a little pinker, but it smiled easily, revealing perfect pearl teeth. His arms bulged, folded, as he rested his head on them, and he radiated tan good health. 

"Hi, Justin," I said, sitting up a little. 

"Did I wake you?" he asked. "I thought I was quiet." 

"It's ok," I answered, shrugging. "I probably shouldn't be sleeping in the middle of the courtyard anyway." 

"What's that you're reading?" he asked, pointing at the book on my lap. 

"Oh, Stephen King," I said. "Good books to travel with." 

"You read a lot?" he asked, his legs kicking lazily behind him. I couldn't see them, but I could hear the splashes. 

"Yeah, I guess so," I answered. 

"You're pretty smart, right?" he asked. Where was this going? 

"I like to pretend I am," I said, smiling. After a second he smiled along with me. "What's up?" 

"Brit's gone for the day, and I'm supposed to tape her shows, but I don't know how to set the VCR," Justin said. "Nobody else is home." 

"Josh is upstairs," I said. "He's working, though, so he probably can't hear the phone." 

"Do you think maybe you could help me set the VCR?" Justin asked. "If I can't I'll have to stay in there and watch them, and I kind of wanted to swim today." 

"Sure, I don't mind," I said. 

"Cool," Justin said. 

He unfolded himself out of the pool in what seemed one long flex, arms bulging again and pulling him up as his tanned torso rose ab by ab from the pool. Water coursed down his toned pecs, dripping off his pointed pink nipples, darkening the golden hair on his arms and the tiny trail of it on his stomach that led into a full, tight speedo of bright blue to an amber brown. The bulge of his package shifted as one leg, and then the other, slid up out of the pool, and then he was standing before me, six feet of attractive, southern boyish charm, like Josh a picture of corded muscle. 

I caught myself looking, and remembered that my boyfriend was sitting upstairs at this very moment, and that this was his best friend. Then again, what harm was there in just looking? Just because you love someone doesn't mean you're blind to the attractiveness of others. You just don't act on it. 

Besides, Justin had done quite a bit of looking last night. Why couldn't I? 

"You wanna go do it now?" he asked, his head cocked to one side like a puppy. 

"Sure," I answered, lifting myself out of the chair. 

Luckily Justin already had his back turned, because I realized I was hard. I made a quick adjustment to my pants, to get things under control, or at least less obvious, and followed Justin up the stairs, watching water trickle down his spine and bead up on the hairless skin of his back. His ass flexed beneath the tight speedo with each step, and it shifted alarmingly every time he moved a leg, threatening to reveal a hint of his ass crack. I reminded myself again that I had a boyfriend sitting in the next apartment, but then also reminded myself that there was no harm in looking at and appreciating the male form, especially when it was formed so well. 

Justin's apartment was set up the same as Josh's, even down to the similar furniture. I followed him over to the entertainment center, where he handed me the remote for the VCR, and explained what channel and what time he needed. 

"I'm just gonna, you know, go dry off," he said, cocking his head toward the bedroom. 

"OK," I said. "This should only be a second." 

I quickly programmed the VCR, wondering if Justin really could be incapable of performing so simple a task. When it was done, I walked over to the bedroom to tell him, and I stopped just before the partially opened door. Justin's blue speedo was crumpled on the floor next to the bed, and the smooth globes of his bare ass were facing me, their pale white contrasting sharply with the tan above and below the line of his suit. His arms, raised, held a towel over his head as he vigorously dried his hair. Glancing to the left in an effort not to look at his ass, I saw that he was facing the mirror over the dresser. The towel covered his face, preventing him from seeing me, and my eyes involuntarily slid down the line of his neck, the crease of his chest, the tightly pulled ladder of his abs, and down to his cock with its candy-pink head, the same shade as his nipples, as it lay on top of his jiggling balls, surrounded by dark amber curls. 

I stepped back immediately, walking quickly back to the VCR. What the hell was wrong with me? My cock was throbbing, and I had to focus on keeping my voice level, and pretending I hadn't seen anything. 

"Justin, I'm all done with this, so I'm going to go back to my book now," I called loudly. 

"Wait a sec!" Justin yelled, walking out of the bedroom with the towel tied around his hips, clinging to him, bulging temptingly in the front. "Can you show me how you did that?" 

"Sure," I said, quickly walking him through the programming menu. I handed him back the remote, and he took it, his fingers sliding over mine just an instant longer than was necessary. 

"Thanks," he said, his dark eyes staring into mine. 

"No problem," I said, quickly sliding out the door. 

Deciding that I really didn't need to spend any time trying to read with Justin swimming laps in the pool next to me, I returned to Josh's living room. I made us a quick lunch, and retrieved him from the studio. 

"Did you have a good time reading?" he asked, pouring dressing onto his salad. 

"Yeah," I said, smiling. "I had to show Justin how to program his VCR, too, but other than that I didn't see anybody." 

"I just showed him how to do that last week," Josh said, laughing and shaking his head. "I can't believe he forgot already." 

"Me either," I said, forcing myself to laugh along with him. 

After lunch, we went out to buy a gas grill, and barbecue supplies. When we came back, Josh called everybody, and invited them to an impromptu cookout down in the courtyard for dinner. Chris and Lance had returned from the airport, and they both enthusiastically accepted, and Justin said he'd be there with Britney. I asked Josh what had brought this on, and he explained that he wanted to talk with all of his friends, all at once, and tell them about us. 

"Are you sure?" I asked, reading the grill assembly instructions. "It's kind of a big step." 

"Yes, I'm sure," Josh said. "It's like Chris said this morning, I want to share my happiness with my friends, so that they can be happy with me. Why? You don't think I should tell them?" 

"I didn't say that," I said, staring blankly at the toolbox Jackie had provided us. We invited her to the cookout as well, but she refused through a cloud of smoke, explaining that tonight was the night she got her tea leaves read. "I've told you all along that it's your decision, and however you want to go about it is fine with me. They're your friends, and you know them better than I do." 

"I know," he said, removing the toolbox and the instructions from me. "I want to share you with them." 

"OK," I said, smiling, shaking my head to clear out any thoughts of Josh sharing me with naked, wet Justin. 

What was wrong with me? And what was wrong with Justin? Was I reading too much into this afternoon? Maybe he had just forgotten to close the door, and all he really needed was to have the VCR programmed. Maybe he was just too surprised to move when he saw us last night in the studio. He could have been in shock, right? But why didn't he say anything to either of us? 

By the time dinner rolled around, we had assembled the grill, and managed to light it without either of us being consumed in a huge gas explosion. Justin and Brit arrived in matching shorts and Hawaiian shirts with a selection of salads from one of the delis nearby, and Chris came with a few liters of soda, a carton of wine coolers, and a twelve pack of beer, the bottles all arranged with ice in an aluminum tub. I marveled at the absurdity of it, looking so much like a prop from a commercial, and watched as Chris joined Josh at the grill, making fun of the bright red "Kiss The Cook" apron Josh had insisted on buying. Justin and Brit were facing each other on the lounge chairs, playing some sort of game that seemed to involve pretending to steal each other's noses, and I ran back up the stairs to Josh's apartment to get the rest of the stuff. I was pouring chips into bowls when I heard a voice behind me. 

"Hello?" someone called. 

"Hi," I said, turning around. It was Lance. 

"Hi there," he said, extending his hand. "I'm Lance, in case you didn't remember. I came up to see if you needed any help." 

"Hi," I said. "I think I'm good with this, but if you could grab the plates, it would be a big help." 

Lance and I carried everything else down, setting it all out on the picnic table with the buns and the condiments. Lance asked me a couple of quick questions about myself, just to refresh himself on who I was, and then Josh called to us that dinner was served. During dinner, we all just kind of sat around, talking and laughing, much as we had the previous evening. Lance told us a little about his trip, and Brit talked about where she'd been all day and how the interviewer kept asking her all of these really hard questions about current events and stuff. I almost aspirated a chip while she said that, and Chris quickly joined me in my coughing fit. 

When we were more or less done eating, and were just picking through the chips and the salads, Josh called for everyone's attention. 

"I know that we've all been talking and hanging out all along tonight, but I kind of asked you guys to come down for a specific, personal reason," Josh began, fidgeting nervously with his apron-matching chef hat. "I know that things have been kind of strained for a while, with us, and that that's mostly my fault. I haven't really been there for you guys, and I haven't let you be there for me, and that's because I was dealing with a lot of stuff, and I didn't think you'd understand." 

Inwardly I applauded Josh's courage, while outwardly I smiled at him. 

"I wanted to get you guys together, even though Joey's still not here, to apologize, and to let you know that I'm past it," Josh said, still twisting that hat. 

"JC, dude, easy on the hat," Chris said. "You're doing fine." 

"Yeah, whatever it is, you can just tell us," Brit said, leaning back against Justin as they shared a lounge. 

Josh took a deep breath. 

"I guess what I wanted to tell you is that I've been kind of doubting myself, and who I was, and that made me doubt all of you as well, but that's over now," Josh said. "I know who I am, and I met someone who helped me, and who still helps me every day, and I love him. It's Jack." 

Everyone looked at me during the collective silence that followed, except Chris, who was watching everyone else. 

"When you say you love Jack, " Lance began quizzically. 

"I mean I love him," Josh said, grabbing my hand and pulling me up to stand next to him. "I love Jack. We're together." 

Lance was glaring at me. 

"Cool," Justin said carefully. "We're happy for you." 

"That's so great!" Brit said, clapping her hands. 

"That isn't great! It's not cool!" Lance yelled, glaring at me. Josh took a step back, his face twisting in pain and confusion. "What did you do to him?" 

 

---