Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.
That said, on with Season 7.
Jack
When I woke up Josh wasn't in bed. I climbed out, looking around, and pulled on a hotel robe as I quietly opened the connecting door to the suite. Josh had his bare back to me, sitting on the couch in the suite in a pair of his boxer briefs, his headphones clapped over his ears as he played the keyboard set out on the coffee table. A notebook was open next to the keyboard, a pen lying on a page covered with lots of words crossed out and scribbled spots. He was probably working on something, but sometimes when he was upset he just played, and if I was sleeping he always put his headphones on, unless we were at home. If we were in the house, he just closed the bedroom door and pounded away on the piano downstairs. I didn't want to bother him if he was in his zone, so I stepped back into the bedroom, closed the door, and picked up the phone.
"Hi, good morning," I said. "Could I get a pot of coffee, a pot of hot water and some tea bags, some honey, a carafe of orange juice, and some fruit? Like some apples and oranges, or bananas or something? Thanks so much."
I wanted to talk to Josh, and a little fruit wouldn't spoil his appetite if we did end up having breakfast with the others in an hour or two. I grabbed him a sleeveless t-shirt from the dresser, smiling at a family picture and a shot of the two of us from our honeymoon, that day we had gone rollerblading around Bowie. Until we went there I always thought the name of the town was "Buoy", like the things that marked boundaries in the water, because that's the way Josh pronounced it, and it wasn't until we got there and I saw the way it was spelled that I realized there really was a Maryland accent after all, and not just a generally southern one. I pulled on shorts and a t-shirt, and washed the sleep from my face in the bathroom, rinsing out with some mouthwash to counter morning breath. Walking to Josh, I dropped the t-shirt into his lap, and leaned down. He smiled up at me, his hands reaching up to take mine, and I kissed him on the forehead.
"Be a good boy and put that on," I said, knowing that he wouldn't want me jerking the door open with him just sitting on the couch in his underwear. My timing was impeccable, and I heard the knock at the door as he pulled off his headphones and tugged the shirt down.
"Thank you," I said, taking the tray from the room service guy and handing him a tip. I turned, and saw that Josh had closed his notebook, clearing a space for the tray on the coffee table.
"What's this?" he asked, smiling as he looked at the tray.
"Your wake up call," I said, sitting down next to him. "Good morning, sweetie."
"Good morning," he said, pulling me in close for a kiss. We kissed softly for a few moments, lips brushing each other, eyes closed. The stubble on both our chins scraped a little, but I was ok with it. I reached for a cup and began to pour myself some coffee as Josh put his tea together, pressing on the bag with his spoon and reaching for the bowls of honey packets and lemon wedges.
"How are you feeling this morning?" I asked, glancing pointedly at the keyboard. He used it a lot when he wasn't upset, too, but I figured that after last night he was probably trying to cope.
"Better," he answered. "I'm still kind of upset, and worried about Justin, but I feel a little better, too, having you here. You scared me last night, Jack."
"I did?" I asked, sipping my coffee. Josh removed an orange from the small basket of fruit, and began to peel it. "What did I do?"
"When you fought with Nick, you scared me," he said, glancing at me. My eyes met his over the top of my cup, and I saw that he still looked sad and tired, even if he did say that he felt better. "I've never seen you angry like that. For a second it was like I didn't even know who you were. You were just, I don't know, so mad, and your face. I've never known you to be like that. I didn't know you could be."
"I've never known myself to be like that, either," I answered. "I mean, even when I was with Basil, and, you know, I had the frying pan, even then I didn't feel like that. I don't remember anything from last night, Josh. I remember seeing Nick, and then I remember Joey pulling me off of him, but I don't remember anything in between."
"Are you ok?" he asked, sectioning his orange onto a plate. His fingers, long and delicate, neatly separated it, arranging the sections into a fan as he peeled them off one by one.
"Yeah, I think so," I answered. "I just, I was so angry when I saw him, and I saw Justin on the floor."
"I know," he said. "I was, too. For a second, though, I was just frozen, like I couldn't think at all."
"Don't worry," I said, smiling, trying to break the mood. "I wasn't thinking, either."
Josh smiled, patting my hand, and began to eat his orange. I watched the first section disappear into his mouth, a little bit of juice glistening on his lip, and realized that I wanted an orange, or Josh's lips. Maybe both. I licked my lips, watching him lick off his fingers, and realized I wanted to push him down onto the couch right there, coffee be damned.
"I'm so glad you were here," Josh said suddenly. "I mean, I don't know what I would have done last night, if I didn't have you here to hold. You mean the world to me, Jack. When I feel like all of this is too much, when I feel like I'm drowning, you're always here for me to hold onto."
"I always will be," I said, taking his hand. I licked his fingers carefully, sucking one into my mouth, and he sighed, watching me with his mouth hanging open a little. His own tongue, pink and soft, darted out to wet his bottom lip.
"Jack," he sighed, watching me as I nursed on his finger, pressing my lips around it, darting my tongue over it. "What are you doing?"
"You don't like it?" I asked, letting his finger slide out of my mouth, kissing the end of it as I dropped his hand back onto his lap.
"I like it fine," he answered, caressing the side of my face with his hand, still holding his tea with the other. I turned my head a little, kissing his palm.
"Josh, I want to tell you something, and I don't really know how," I said, pulling his hand down to hold it in mine. "I'm just going to blurt it out, ok? I'm going to ask Chad not to schedule me any more speaking engagements until the tour is over."
"Jack, I can't ask you to do that," Josh said, squeezing my hand. I knew that he wanted me here, but I also knew that he wanted me to be happy.
"You're not asking me to," I said, shaking my head. "I'm telling you. This is what I want."
"But it means so much to you," Josh said. "You love it so much, I don't want you to give that up."
"I'm not, Josh, not permanently," I said. "I have the one in Boston tomorrow night, and the one in Atlanta next week, and then I don't have any more scheduled. I'll finish those two, and then I won't schedule any more until after the tour. That way I can stay here, with you, and then when I start again, you can come to the speeches with me, and we won't be separated. I know you won't ask me to do this, but you need me, and it's more important to me that I be here for you. My stuff can wait."
"Jack, I'm not going to pretend I'm not happy about this, but," he began again, and I silenced him with a kiss.
"This is what I want, Josh," I said. "I love you, and I want to be with you."
"I love you, too," he said, kissing me again. He pressed his mouth to mine, his eyes closed, and I sucked at his bottom lip, listening to him whimper a little. When we broke apart, his blue eyes were glassy, and his lip glistening and red.
"Wanna shower?" I asked coyly, offering him my best set of bedroom eyes.
"Hell yes," he answered, setting his tea cup down and grabbing my hand. We trotted, giggling, into the bathroom.
Lance
Lance peeked into the bedroom again, checking on Justin, but Justin was still asleep. He looked so peaceful when he wasn't dreaming, so calm, like nothing bad had ever happened to him, or ever would. His eyes were closed, his hair, though short, still a little messy, one arm twisted awkwardly beneath him and the other draped possessively over Junior. Junior looked at Lance, waiting to see if Lance was coming back to bed, his tail thumping a little, but he didn't move from Justin's side. Lance had started the night in his own bed, not sure if Justin would want anyone close to him, but he woke up in the middle of the night, hearing Justin pleading in his sleep, begging Nick not to, please not to do that. Lance walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge, wondering what he should do, and Justin reached out, pulling Lance down. He was still asleep, but he held onto Lance, as if he knew, even in his sleep, that Lance was here for him, and as soon as Lance laid down alongside him, cradling him tightly, Justin's whimpers had subsided.
"It's ok, buddy," Lance whispered to Junior, making a "stay" motion with his hands. "Go back to sleep."
Junior settled his head back down onto Justin's hand, but his eyes stayed hopefully open, and his tail kept wagging. Lance smiled, shaking his head, and backed slowly out of the room, knowing that Justin would probably sleep for another hour or two with the pill in him. Although he had been drinking pretty heavily at one point, Justin had never turned to drugs, for which Lance was thankful, but the downside was that Justin had no resistance to them. One sleeping pill could knock him down for the whole night and most of the next day, which was why they used them so sparingly. Justin didn't like the groggy, drowsy feeling it left in him, but Lance didn't think Justin would have been able to sleep last night without one.
Lance called Chris and Vlada, and then JC and Jack, and after reassuring all of them that he was fine, and everything was quiet, he let them know that Justin was still asleep, and that they probably wouldn't be doing breakfast, because he wanted Justin to get a lot of rest. After he hung up, he thought about taking a shower, but he didn't want to get in and then have Justin wake up alone. He could have left the door open, but then there was the risk that Justin would see him naked. While it wouldn't have bothered Lance much, since the guys had all seen each other naked at some point or other, he was pretty sure it would upset Justin, so he decided to just read, and wait. As soon as he sat down, though, he heard someone knocking softly at the door, tentatively. If he hadn't been in the suite room, he might not have heard it at all, but he decided to answer it anyway, figuring that it must be one of the guys coming to check on them despite his calls. Smiling good naturedly, knowing they meant well, he opened the door, and almost slammed it closed when he found Joey in the hallway.
"What the fuck do you want?" Lance demanded, standing in the doorway. Joey blinked in surprise at his tone and his words, neither of which seemed at home in Lance's mouth. Lance shook his head before Joey could answer, and started to swing the door closed. "Never mind. I don't care what you want. I've already heard everything you have to say."
"Lance, please," Joey said, putting his hand on the door. Lance pushed against it. "I just want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to you," Lance said, pushing on the door with one hand. His face tightened.
How could Joey even come here, show his face anywhere near Justin, after what he'd done to him last night? When they had agreed to go through with the tour, they had all agreed to be here for each other, to remember that they were brothers, and even if Justin had kept his distance from Joey, Lance thought Joey respected that, by giving Justin the space he wanted, and not confronting him about the distance Justin kept between them. Lance had helped Justin by kind of serving as his defensive block, keeping Joey from getting too close until Justin wanted him to, because it was Lance's job to protect him, but he never expected Joey to do something like he'd done last night. Joey might call himself Justin's friend, but a friend would never have done that to him, never would have hurt him again that way.
"Lance, please, I just want to talk to you," Joey said quietly. "I want to explain, and if I have to do it by screaming through the door, I will, but I don't want to. Please, could you pretend that we're still friends? Could you act like you're still my best friend, and that we're just going to talk to each other like we used to?"
Lance didn't answer Joey directly, but he stood aside, holding the door open. As Joey stepped in, Lance glared at him, waiting to see what he would do. Joey looked toward the bedroom door, and started to walk toward it, wanting to check on Justin and see if he was ok, but Lance's voice, steel scraping across concrete, halted him in midstep.
"Stay away from him!" Lance said sharply. In the bedroom, Junior whimpered, and Justin twitched in his sleep. "You've done enough to him. Let him rest, and leave him the hell alone. If you wake him up, I swear, so help me God, Joey."
"I won't wake him, Lance," Joey said, shaking his head. "I don't want to hurt him, I don't. I know you don't believe that, but it's true. Can I sit down?"
"Fine," Lance said, crossing his arms. "Just say whatever it was you came here for."
"Lance, I know you're upset about last night," Joey began, but Lance cut him off.
"Upset? Upset?" Lance snapped, angry, but still keeping his voice low. He didn't want Justin to wake up and find Joey here, not until he had a chance to see how Justin was, and what he was feeling. "You hurt him! He was on the floor, scared, and alone, and he needed his friends, and instead you threatened him. Do you know what it's like to feel like he does? To feel like everyone is looking at you, and everyone knows what happened to you? To be that ashamed of what happened, of something you couldn't stop, something that hurt you so much? You can't tell me you do, or you never would have said that to him."
"Lance, what I said, it wasn't something I wanted to," Joey said miserably. "I just, I knew that it was all he would listen to, and I knew that if I said it, he would listen to me, because he'd believe that I would do it. I came to talk to you because I don't want Justin to feel that way anymore. I don't want him to think that I don't love him, that I'm not here for him. I don't want him to feel uncomfortable around me. I want us all to be brothers again, Lance. I don't want this, this wall, this divide, to stay where it is. We can't keep doing this."
"We're divided because of you," Lance said bitterly. "There's a wall between us because you put it there, the day you came to my house and tried to tell me that Justin was going to hurt me. You did it, the day you asked me to choose who my friends were. You know I wouldn't ever leave one of my friends, Joey, not when they needed me, and a real friend wouldn't have asked me to. That's why we're not together, like we were, because you're not like you were."
"Lance, I never asked you to make that choice," Joey said quietly. "I never asked you to choose. You wrote that part in yourself. I told you I'd still be here for you, still be your friend, no matter what happened. I never asked you to choose."
Lance paused, realizing that Joey was right. Lance was the one who had thrown out the idea that he had to choose. Lance was the one who had divided them, but he had to, because of the way Joey felt, because Joey couldn't trust Justin, and wouldn't see that Justin had changed.
"I had to, because of the way you were acting," Lance said finally. "You didn't ask me to, but you didn't have to. You made it clear."
"And I was wrong, Lance," Joey said. "That's why I wanted to talk to you, and maybe, later, to Justin. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, and that I was wrong. I didn't really see Justin, Lance, didn't really see the way he was, because I didn't want to. That's the truth, Lance, and I realized it last night when I was talking to Chris and Jack. I never forgave Justin, after what he did to you. I never really believed that he was sorry. I thought he was biding his time. I was nice to him again, because you forgave him, but I never really believed that he meant it, because he hurt you so badly."
"But you saw it, Joey," Lance said, shaking his head. "You saw how much it hurt him to see me in that much pain. You saw how sorry he was."
"I saw how sorry he looked, Lance," Joey said. "I saw how sorry he acted, but how many times had we seen Justin act before? How many times? We saw him playing JC, and you, and Britney. How was I supposed to know that time was real? He hurt you, Lance, and I couldn't let that go, even if you did. Maybe that made you a better person than me, I don't know, and I don't really care. I know we agreed to let him stay, and I thought that as long as he left you alone, I'd leave him alone, and it would all be ok. And it looked like he was. I wasn't happy when he, you know, when he moved in on JC, even if they both say that isn't the way it happened, but he wasn't hurting you, so I didn't say anything, and I kept not saying anything. That's what I was trying to stop doing, Lance. Howie hurt you, and I didn't say anything. Justin hurt you to get you away from Howie, and I said something then, but it was too late to help you, and look what it did."
Lance was listening, but he was still a little angry. In the bedroom, Justin still slept, Junior curled against him. Joey continued, the words pouring out of him. This was why he had asked Chris and Jack to leave the night before. He had realized all of this, and wanted to think about it alone, without his friends around. He wanted to think about it in silence, to come to terms with all of it. He had gone to sleep thinking of it, had thought about it when he got up this morning, and had known that he needed to come make amends. He had made a mistake, and it was time to try to fix it.
"After what happened to Justin, I saw what was going on with you two, but you pushed us all out," Joey said. "I saw you two turning in, turning toward each other and away from all of us, and I didn't want to not say anything again. I didn't want to keep quiet this time, and just let something else happen, so I came to see you, but I said the wrong thing. I made a mistake, Lance."
"And what?" Lance asked, crossing his arms again. "You think you can just come now and say sorry, and it'll all just go away? You think it's just going to make everything better?"
"I don't know," Joey answered. "But this is killing us. We're out there every night, and when we're onstage, we are Nsync, but the minute we step off, we break apart again. Justin needs us all, but he doesn't feel like he has me, and neither do you. JC is worried about Justin, and he's not doing well being split up from Jack, too. Chris is so busy worrying about everyone else that he's losing track of himself, and me, Lance, I need my friend back. You're my best friend, and I need you. We all need each other, and we're not together. When we are, we can do anything, but we're not, and some of that is my fault, because I made a mistake, and I'm sorry."
"I don't know if we can go back to the way we were," Lance said quietly, looking away. "We're not the people we used to be, and everything here won't just be hugged away, Joey."
"I know it won't, Lance," Joey said. "I know I fucked up, and that maybe part of the reason it's taking Justin so long to get better is my fault, too, but Lance, even if we can't get back to the way we were, can't we get back to something? Can we still be friends? Can we still hang out, and be around each other, and not feel like we have to have our guard up? That's all I want. I just want to tell Justin I'm sorry, and more than that I want to show you guys I'm sorry, and that I mean it, but I can't do it if you keep me blocked out."
Lance turned away a little, thinking.
"You want us to trust you," Lance said. "You want us to trust you, and believe the things you say, even though you couldn't trust or believe Justin, and you couldn't trust my judgment either. You want us to forgive you, even though it's something you couldn't do. That's what you want?"
"Yes," Joey said miserably, looking at his shoes. "I know I made a mistake, Lance, and I know what it was. If it makes you feel better to keep saying it, fine, do whatever you have to, but I want to make it right. I'm sorry, Lance. I've never lied to you, and you know it. Maybe the things I said haven't always been right, and they haven't always been smart, but they've always been what I thought and believed was true. I'm telling you that I'm sorry, and I'm saying it because I mean it."
"I know you don't lie," Lance said. "I just don't know if this is enough. It might be too late for you to be sorry. It might be too late for you to build that bridge again. I don't know."
"I'm not going to beg," Joey said, standing. He'd tried, but he wasn't going to bang his head against Lance's wall. "I've said what I came here for, and I'm going to go, because it's obvious you still don't want me here, but at least think about it, please? And tell Justin what I said, and that I want to talk to him, too?"
"I'll tell him," Lance said. "But I won't force him into anything. If he doesn't believe me, or he still doesn't want you around, I'm not going to push him, Joey. Not now, and not after what happened last night. I have to protect Justin, and he always has to feel like he's in control of himself, or he'll never get better. If he says no, I want you to leave him alone."
"I just want to help him, Lance," Joey said, walking toward the door. "I just want him to know I'm here."
"I'll tell him, but the rest is going to be up to him," Lance said, crossing his arms.
"What about us?" Joey asked. "What about me and you?"
"We'll see," Lance answered noncommittally. "I have to think about what you said, and we'll see how things go. I can't make any promises, Joey. I don't know how I feel about you. I've been angry at you for a long time, and I've felt betrayed by you, and I don't know if you just saying you're sorry is going to fix it. I just don't know. I guess, you know, I'll see you tonight at sound checks, and we'll see how it goes."
"Sure," Joey said, walking into the hallway. He closed the door behind him and wondered if he'd accomplished anything at all.
Lance sighed, and sat down on the couch. Joey had never lied to him, that much was true, but that also meant Joey hadn't lied when he said he thought Justin was going to hurt him again. Maybe Joey felt differently now, but, as Lance had told him, he'd been angry for so long. Joey had betrayed his friendship, had betrayed them all, by asking Lance to choose between him and Justin. If he really had been Justin's friend, really had been the kind of brother they always talked about being, he would have been there for Justin, too, rather than asking Lance to turn away. Even if it was because of what Justin had done before, Joey should have been the bigger person, should have been able to forgive him. If Lance could, when he was the one who had been hurt, Joey should have been able to, as well.
The way that he was asking Lance now to do for him.
Lance shook his head, confused, and heard Justin whimper in the bedroom. Walking quickly in, he saw Justin clutching Junior tightly, his eyes squeezed closed as he twisted in the sheets. He was still asleep, but Lance could tell that the sleeping pill was wearing off. Justin's peace was broken, and he was dreaming again, trapped in his own private terror.
"No, don't," Justin begged, his head tossing back and forth, his voice high and tight. Tears burst from his closed eyes. "Please, don't, please."
"Justin, shhhh," Lance whispered, running a hand over his forehead.
He brushed his hand back over Justin's hair, smoothing it down, feeling the sweat on Justin's forehead. As Lance touched him, comforting him, Justin calmed a little, and his breathing began to slow down. He let out an occasional whimper, but his face started to smooth out again. Junior looked up at Lance, blinking, and Lance petted him, too, with his other hand. Justin's free hand unclenched from the pillow, and he looked relaxed, his whimpers dying down. Lance wondered what he was dreaming about now, and then heard a soft knocking at the door. He hoped it wouldn't be Joey again, not this soon, and he walked quickly through the suite, not wanting the knocking to wake Justin.
"Chad!" he said, surprised, as he pulled open the door. Chad smiled at him expectantly, his hair carefully messed and then gelled back into place, his shirt tight and his pants somehow tighter. He was wearing a light cologne that Lance found intriguing, if a little strong for daytime. "What's up?"
"It's noon," Chad said, smiling. His smile faltered a little as he looked at Lance's baggy pants and t-shirt, and noticed that Lance didn't seem showered or shaved. "Are we having a casual day?"
"Oh, God, Chad," Lance said, smacking his forehead. "We're supposed to go to lunch, aren't we? I'm sorry I forgot."
"That's, that's ok," Chad said, his face falling. He tried to smile it off, but Lance could see that he was stung, and realized that Chad, being star struck like he usually was, would have been looking forward to this all day.
"Chad, I'm sorry," Lance said, patting his shoulder. "I really am. I just, we had a bad night last night, and I kind of forgot. I haven't even showered yet."
"Is everything ok?" Chad asked, sounding concerned.
"Justin got a little, um, sick at the party," Lance said, uncomfortable with lying, even for a good reason. "He's not up yet, and I kind of, you know, I don't want to leave him alone until I know he's ok."
"Oh my God!" Chad squeaked, clapping his hands over his mouth as his eyes went wide. They were huge and blue above his hands, his eyebrows raised almost comically high. "Is he ok? Did you have to go to the hospital? Are you still going to do the show tonight? What's wrong with him?"
"Chad. Chad!" Lance hissed, not wanting him to wake Justin either. He grabbed Chad's shoulders, startling both of them. "Calm down. He doesn't have to go the hospital, and I think when he wakes up he'll be ok, but I'm not sure. We might have to cancel the show. I just don't know, ok?"
"OK, yeah, ok, I'm sorry," Chad said, nodding. "Maybe we'll have that lunch in a couple days or something? Some other time?"
"Yeah, of course," Lance said, nodding. He wanted to go check on Justin again, to see if Chad had disturbed him. The last thing he wanted was for Justin to start having another nightmare, and then to wake up with Chad in the suite. "We'll see, ok?"
"Yeah, ok," Chad said, nodding. His shoulders were a little slumped, but he seemed ok, so Lance smiled at him, and then closed the door. As he started to cross the suite, heading for the bedroom, he heard a soft tap again. Turning, he opened it, and found Chad dancing nervously from foot to foot, wringing his hands.
"Yeah?" Lance asked, wondering what else he needed.
"I, um, I," Chad began, swallowing. "I wanted to tell you that I, um, I wanted to go to lunch, with, you know, with you, because I, um, I, you know, I like you."
"I like you, too," Lance said obliviously, wondering why Chad felt the need to tell him that. What if Justin needed him?
"No," Chad said, shaking his head. He was blushing now, turning red. "Lance, I, um, I like you, like, I, well, oh hell!"
Before Lance could do anything Chad leaned in and planted his mouth down on Lance's, jerking Lance toward him by the front of his shirt. It was fast, and wet, and a little sloppy, and Lance blinked in surprise, caught completely off guard, before Chad let go of him. Chad was bright red now, and didn't even wait to see what Lance would say or do, turning to dart down the hall as Lance stood in the doorway, his fingers drifting up to wipe off his mouth as he watched Chad go. Chad liked him, obviously, and not just as a friend. What the hell was he supposed to think about that? He closed the door, still feeling that quick pressure on his lips, that feeling that he hadn't known in months, and began to walk toward the bedroom, wondering what he should do.
In the bedroom, Justin closed his eyes, and pretended not to have heard.
To be continued.