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've enjoyed hearing from all of you, especially those of you like Natalie, Mike, Jeremy, Neil, Sara, Josh, Eric, Dane, Domita, Ray, and Brad, who have written almost continuously to offer support, questions, commentary, feedback, and just to chat. Even if you've only written once, it has still bolstered me greatly to hear from you, and it's because of all of you that I'm still writing this.
So, without further ado, back to the story in progress.
I pulled my hands out of Josh's, feeling his go limp as he began to sob. Standing, I walked away from the couch. He tugged at my pant leg, grabbing blindly at me, and I jerked away from him.
"Jack!" he cried, an anguished bark. "Please don't walk away from me! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you, I'm sorry."
Josh's voice trailed off as he slumped into the couch, pressing his face into the back, his body shaking as he cried. I stopped halfway to the bedroom. What was I going to do? Leave again? If I walked away this time, there wouldn't be anyone to pull me back. I'd be walking away from the first man I'd allowed to love me in years, and it would destroy us both. Love was worth fighting for.
I turned back, and walked back to the couch, sitting next to Josh. I put a hand on his shoulder, and then gathered him against me, feeling his wet tears through the shirt on my chest.
"It's ok, Josh, it'll be ok," I soothed, holding him. I didn't want to know what had happened, didn't need to know, but he needed to let it out. "Tell me what happened, Josh, please, just let it out."
He looked up at me, still crying, but not with those great, body wrenching sobs any longer. He gripped my hand tightly in both of his as I used my other one to stroke his forehead and the side of his face.
"You don't really want to hear it, do you?" he asked.
"Well, no, not really," I admitted. "I don't want to hear, but I need to hear it, as much as you need to let it out. We have to be honest with each other, Josh."
He sniffled, collecting himself. Keeping my hands locked in his, he began to speak, his voice cracking.
"When you ran up the stairs yesterday, I got in my car, and I just drove," he began. "I wasn't watching where I was going, or how fast I was going. I was upset, and I was just driving, and thinking about how I'd hurt you, and thrown you away. I was thinking about how I'm a bad person, and how I don't deserve to have anyone love me, because I just hurt them."
"That's not true, Josh," I said, pulling him closer to me. "That's not the truth at all."
"But it was," he said. "I threw you away like garbage, like you didn't mean anything to me, and I realized that I was trash. All I wanted was to forget everything, and then I saw this bar. I think it was in the valley."
No wonder we hadn't been able to find him. Chris told me that nobody ever, ever went to the valley.
"It was little, and dark, and there were men there, a lot of men," he said. "It had a triangle on the front, so I knew what kind of bar it was, and I went in, because I didn't care anymore. I didn't want anyone to love me, I just wanted to let someone use me."
"Oh, Josh," I said, rocking slowly back and forth as I held on to him. The thought of him in this terrible place, some dark bar, in the state he had been in, was killing me, every word pounding into me like a nail, stabbing at me like a pack of crows with razor sharp beaks.
"I went in, and I sat at the bar, and I just started drinking," he continued, his voice fading into an alarmingly toneless whisper. "I drank, and drank, and people bought me drinks, and I just kept taking them. There was this music playing, and I got tired of drinking, and I went to dance. There were all these guys on the dance floor, old guys and young guys, and they started dancing with me, and they started touching me. They put their hands on me, all over me, and I let them, and some of them kissed me, and their mouths were dirty, and I let them do that, too."
"Josh, it wasn't your fault," I said, trying to push the images away. "You were upset, and you were drinking. You didn't know what you were doing. It's not your fault."
"But I liked it!" he screamed, and I froze as he continued to scream it all out, until his voice cracked again, and he collapsed against me. "I liked it! They had their dirty hands all over me and I liked it! And then I ran. I ran and got in the car, and drove back here, and I remember coming through the gate, and then I remember looking out the window and seeing you."
"And I'm still here, Josh," I said, swallowing my own tears. "I'm still here."
"But they had their hands on me, and I liked it," he whimpered into my chest. "I'm so ashamed."
"Josh, no," I said, grabbing the sides of his head. I pulled his face up, level with mine, and looked into his eyes. "Josh, you have nothing to be ashamed of, not now, and not ever. None of it was your fault."
"How can you even look at me?" he asked, trying to turn his head away. I kept it locked in my hands, not letting him break the contact.
"Because I love you, Joshua," I said. "I don't care what you did yesterday, or what I did. None of it matters. We're here now, and I love you."
I let go of his face, and he collapsed against me again. I leaned back into the couch and let him cry himself out against me. While he did, nestled against me, I thought about what he'd just told me, and tried to decide how I should feel. I was a little jealous, and a little hurt, but mostly I was concerned, because he seemed so upset about it. Really all he'd done was go dancing, and dance with some guys, and let them kiss him. While it didn't leave me wildly ecstatic to hear it, it wasn't really that bad as cheating went, and he wasn't really in his right mind when it happened. He was so upset now that I was sure it wouldn't happen again, but I needed to make him understand that I wasn't as hurt as he thought I'd be. I had to help him realize that I understood why he did it, and that I didn't want him to beat himself up over it.
Josh leaned off of me and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, and then pressed back against me, pressing his head against my chest and wrapping his arms around me, pulling him closer. My hands slid up his torso, feeling the muscles jump, feeling them shift beneath his warm, smooth skin. I felt his bare shoulders, rounded knots of tanned muscle, bunch beneath my hands as he pulled me even closer to him, and I ran my fingers up and down the curve of his spine, feeling his shoulder blades moving like wings beneath the silken skin of his back. Running them down, I felt the small of his back begin to curve outward again as my hands moved toward his waist, and the hard muscled curves of his ass, pressing out the fabric of his jeans.
Josh's hands slid up my chest to cup my face and turn it toward his, and I felt his mouth on mine. The little strip of his beard tickled over my chin as his wet lips pressed against mine, their smooth texture mirroring my own, his tongue dipping across both ever so quickly, almost as if it hadn't been there at all. My hands were still on his ass, pulling his pelvis against mine as his invading tongue penetrated my mouth, and I felt his hard cock grinding against my own, pressing into me through our pants.
"Touch me, Jack," he whispered, pulling his mouth off of mine with a small sucking noise. I caught his bottom lip between my teeth and tugged gently before letting it go. "Put your hands on me. Make me forget."
"Are you sure, Josh?" I asked. Two minutes ago he was in tears, and now he was in heat.
"Love me, Jack," he whispered, his eyes locked on mine. I stared into the sapphire pools, thinking of the sky, and the sea, and the way the color could conceal the depth in both. I stared deeply into Josh as he stared into me. "Love me."
I did more than love him. Running my hands all over him, sliding them across his smooth curves, feeling the muscles jump and shift, and the short, soft hairs on his body slide under my palms, I worshipped him. I showed him with the brush of a thumb over a nipple, or the caress of a hand over the side of his face, the slide of my fingers through his hair, just how much I loved him. With every soft touch, every whisper of my skin against his, I showed Josh everything in my heart, every feeling kept behind the doors in my soul. I poured myself into him, and he drank it like a desert nomad at an oasis, pressing against me, throwing his head back and surrendering to everything. He was warm and pliant in my hands, lolling against me like a rag doll.
Groaning, eyes closed, Josh shifted, turning in my arms so that he was straddling me on the couch, his firmly muscled thighs stretching tight the denim legs of his jeans as they slid down on either side of mine. My hands cupped his ass for a moment as he ground his hard cock against mine, pressing against me as he writhed atop me, his hands on my shoulders, eyes closed, head thrown back. It was like he was dancing to music that only he could hear, a sexual rhythm counter pointed with his sighs of pleasure. My hands slid up his back again and began kneading the spot where his traps met his shoulders, working at the base of his neck as he ground against me. For a second all I could do was watch him as he rode me on the couch, his eyes closed, face peaceful, his head thrown back in total abandonment. His tanned, muscled chest was a study in sepia, his skin graham cracker and sand, the curving rise of his pecs capped with chocolate brown nipples.
Still massaging his shoulders, I leaned forward as I pulled him toward me, pressing my lips to the hollow of his throat. My mouth slid over, feeling the tendons and cords of his neck, and I felt his pulse throb beneath my kissing, parted lips, and I nipped lightly with my teeth, just barely scraping them over his smooth, fresh skin. I felt his neck vibrate beneath my mouth as he groaned in pleasure, and his hands slid off of my shoulders to catch in my hair as he continued his slow gyration astride me. I kissed and sucked at his neck, moving from one side to the other, passing over his adam's apple, swiping my tongue down the line of his jaw, tracing it up toward his ear. My head dropped down, tracing his collar bones, moving up to where his neck met his shoulders, responding to his sighs and whimpers as he continued to thrust his hard cock against mine. My hands grabbed at his shoulders, bending him backward as my chin and lips slid down the sloping curve of his pecs, until my mouth fastened onto his nipple.
Pressing my lips into a firm circle over it, I sucked hard as I swiped my tongue over the tip. Drawing back from it, I inhaled, pulling air over the wet skin as Josh stiffened and sighed in surprised bliss.
"Bite it," he whispered, pulling my head against him, pressing my face to his firm chest.
I felt his heart beating beneath my lips as he writhed against me, and then I fastened my mouth, vampiric, over his nipple again, my teeth grabbing the swollen tip and pulling. He winced, but tugged my head closer, and ground his pelvis into mine even faster. As my head drifted across his chest to the other nipple, my teeth scraping over his pectorals, my hands drifted down to his legs again, feeling them stretching, flexing against his pants, and I grabbed them as I stood, quickly. Josh wrapped his arms around my neck, hooked his legs around my waist, and pressed his mouth into mine as I carried him into the bedroom.
I dropped Josh onto the bed and stood, looking down at him for a second as his half- lidded, glassy eyes stared back at me. There's something extremely sexy about seeing a well-muscled man in nothing but a pair of blue jeans, seeing the way the well-worn fabric clings to him just enough to hint at what's underneath but not give an outright show of it, noting the contrast between the tone and texture of his skin and the roughly casual fabric. Jeans on the right guy just radiate sexuality, and Josh was definitely one of those guys.
As I kicked off my shoes, and tugged at my socks, Josh leaned up into a kneeling position on the bed, and one of his hands snaked down to cup the crotch of his pants. He ground against his own hand, maintaining the gyrating pulse of thrusting movement he'd had on the couch, and as I tugged my shirt off he popped the top button on his jeans, slid the zipper down, and tugged the fabric aside. Jamming his hand into the opening as I threw my shirt aside and began removing my own pants, he brought his throbbing cock out, jerking it furiously. I pulled my pants down and kicked them aside, and stepped toward the bed. Josh's hips jerked toward me as he fisted his dripping cock, his hand sliding easily over it with a wet, slapping sound.
"Take it, Jack," he hissed through his gritted teeth.
Josh was leaning back on one hand, all of his muscles knitted and protruding, his chest flexing and his abs crunching into bas relief with every breath, as his hand continued to slide over his prick. Dropping onto the bed, I pushed his hand aside as I swallowed him, tasting the salty traces of his precum and sweat, feeling the firm spongy head of his cock slide past my lips and over my tongue. He leaned even further back on that one arm, so that his cock was stabbing almost straight upward as his hips thrust urgently against my mouth, and with his free hand he grabbed my hair and began to jerk my head up and down on his cock as he thrust it into my face. It was a little more take charge and forceful than he usually was, but I just relaxed my jaw and went with the flow, washing my tongue around his head and shaft as he pulled out of me, and just holding on as he pushed all the way back in. He jerked my head back and forth as vigorously as he rolled his hips upward, pushing into me, and I could see the veins in both his arms standing out as he gripped my hair tightly.
He didn't last very long, having already been pretty worked up before we even got to the bedroom, and I heard him yelp as his hand pushed my head all the way down, almost chocking me. I could think of worse ways to go. Still gripping my hair, he pulled me off of his cock, and I let it slide out of my mouth. It jerked again before my face, seeming almost to flex, the head swelling slightly, and a fat drop of cum spilled from the slit. I flicked out my tongue, licking it off before it could go to waste, and swallowed. Josh, staring down at me as he still leaned back on that one hand, pulled me up by my hair, sinking back into the bed as he did so, until my face was level with his. His tongue pushed into my mouth, seeking himself, as my hard cock ground and throbbed against his steely wet prick. The feeling of his jeans scraping on my bare legs was extremely erotic, and I groaned into his mouth as I lay atop him, pressing him down into the mattress.
"Jack," Josh whispered, pulling my head back so that he could stare into my eyes again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Are you sure?" I asked. He'd never done that before, with me or anyone else. "Josh, don't do it because you're sorry."
"It's not that," he whispered. "I love you, and I want you to take me. Make me yours, Jack."
He kissed whatever parts of me he could reach as I leaned over him to get into the nightstand. I leaned back, and he slid up the bed, so that his head was in the pillows. His eyes were enormous as I grabbed his jeans and tugged them down with his boxer briefs. He lay back beneath me, his exquisite body sprawled on the thin blanket, breathing fast and looking a little apprehensive, his eyes enormous blue pools, widening even more as I brought my lubed fingers down to his hole. He drew in a sharp breath as they brushed over his virginity, and I thought maybe he wasn't as ready as he thought. I began to pull my hand away, but he grabbed my arm and held it there.
"Do it, Jack," he urged. "Do it."
I was as gentle as I could be with my fingers, going very slowly, watching him tense and trying to soothe him through it. I tried to distract him with kisses, telling him I loved him as his sighs were punctuated by the occasional whimper. When I thought he was ready, I kissed him again.
"How do you want to do this?" I asked, trying to make sure he was comfortable.
"I want to see you," he answered, staring up at me.
"OK, Josh," I said, lifting his legs. "I'll go slow, but if you're uncomfortable, please tell me."
"I love you," he said, kissing me. "Only you."
I pressed against him, urging him to relax, keeping the pressure firm, but not forceful. All of his muscles, which I spent so many hours admiring, were tensed, and I ran my hands over him soothingly. My chest was pressed against his, and I felt his heart fluttering beneath mine as his body arched up against me. He let out a high pitched sigh, almost a yelp, as I finally pushed inside, and I froze, kissing him, as his hands gripped at my ass, pulling me closer. His face was tightly scrunched, and his teeth were gritted, but he was trying very hard to relax, and I showered compliments on him, telling him he was beautiful, and that I loved him.
We lay like that for a minute, my cock just inside of him, motionless, as I waited for him to relax and guide me. His hands, gripping my ass as tightly as the handles on a roller coaster, pulled me forward ever so slightly, and I slid in a little more as he groaned again.
"Are you ok?" I breathed into his ear.
"Hurts a little," he admitted. "But it's ok. Just go slow."
"Sure, baby, sure," I whispered. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he said, pulling me forward. "Love me, Jack. Love me."
His sighs continued as I began to move very slowly in him, gently thrusting back and forth, not all the way, but working toward it as he stretched and relaxed. I continued to watch his face, not wanting to hurt him, but wanting this so badly. He wanted to prove that he loved me, and while I didn't think it was necessary, I didn't want to reject him when he was giving me so much of himself. He'd had me like this, but this was his first time, and I understood how special that could be, especially for someone like Josh, someone who was a romantic at heart, and really did believe in true love and soul mates. I wanted this to be beautiful and special for him, and I wanted him to feel like he was in control, so I let his hands guide me with their gentle pressure, and I watched his face for a guide.
I gripped his chest, tracing lazy circles around his nipples with my thumbs, brushing the tips now and again. Leaning down, I showered him with kisses, painting them wetly over his face, his chin, his neck. I continued raining compliments on him as well, and I watched as his face smoothed, and lost some of its strained tightness as I continued to thrust slowly against him. Almost imperceptibly at first he began to move back against me, rotating his hips in time to mine, tugging at me with his hands as he let his fear and nervousness drain away. He began to kiss me back as he relaxed more, opening wider, and I watched his face twist in surprised pleasure as I finally hit his prostate, his eyes popping open.
"Oh," he breathed softly, head tilted back toward the ceiling.
I smiled and hit it again, changing my angle a little to make sure I was jabbing it with my cock on every thrust as his hips jerked beneath me. I felt his calves and feet brushing over my legs, and each time I thrust in I watched his entire body smooth out as he arched backward into the bed, his muscles flowing over each other as he threw his head back, moaning and sighing. He chanted my name over and over, like a mantra, and we fell into an easy, yet urgent, rhythm. I picked up speed as he arched himself up beneath me to meet every thrust, and he raked his hands up and down my back as I speared forward into him. He gripped and pulled at me, urging me forward, pulling me down into him.
His cock was hard again beneath me, grinding against my abs as I worked against him, sliding easily between our sweaty, slick torsos. With one hand I held his shoulder in a vice grip, using it to push and pull, and I let the other drift down, wrapping my fingers around him. I began to quickly jerk him in time to my thrusts, and he writhed and bucked wildly beneath me. Screaming my name, he bit my shoulder, the fingers of one hand raking up my back as the other pulled my ass against him, and he threw his head back, his entire body tightening as come shot out of his cock, splattering us both.
He yelped again, his entire body convulsing, and I came harder than I ever had in my life, pushing all the way forward, spearing him beneath me like a butterfly on a pin. I groaned his name, crushing myself against him as my own hips jerked involuntarily against his. Collapsing on top of him, I tried to catch my breath, panting hard, even as he panted hard beneath me, our heartbeats mingling inside our sweating, heaving chests. I kissed him, and then licked the side of his face, relishing the salty taste of his sweat. I started to pull out of him, but he grabbed me, and locked his legs around mine.
"No," he panted into my ear. "I want you to stay in me."
"I love you, Josh," I sighed into his ear. "Was it good?"
"The best," he said, nibbling at the side of my neck. "You're the best."
We drifted off to sleep for a little while, without even realizing it, me completely spent atop his smooth, muscled body, him clenching beneath me to keep me in place. We woke up an hour or so later when the phone rang. I rolled off of Josh, finally, as he reached for it, and I grabbed some tissues to tidy myself up as he answered.
"It's Chris," he said. "He says him and Joey bought some steaks, and he wants to know if we want to eat dinner with them."
"Sure," I answered. "If you want to."
"Sure, we'd love to," Josh told Chris. "Yeah, I know you only asked us so you could use our grill. Yeah, call them, too. We'll be down in, um?"
"An hour or so," I supplied, looking us both over. We needed to hit the shower before we went anywhere.
"Yeah, an hour," Josh agreed into the phone. "OK. Bye."
He hung up the phone, and I kissed him again.
"What was that for?" he asked, holding the side of my face.
"For saying it was our grill," I answered.
"It is," Josh replied, smiling. "It's ours, because we bought it together. I love you, Jack."
"I love you, too," I said. "Let's hit the shower."
Josh and I showered together, as we were in the habit of doing. We didn't talk, not really needing to, and we washed each other, as we usually did. I did his hair, he did my back, and I carefully washed the burns on his arms. When we finished, we dried each other off as well, and went to the bedroom to dress together. We were both being very affectionate, which slowed us down, because we kept stopping to hug, or just run a hand over each other.
"How do you feel?" I asked. "Are you, you know, ok?"
"A little sore," he admitted. "But it's ok. I love you."
"I love you, too, Josh," I said, sitting next to him on the bed as we pulled our shoes on. "Are you ok with the other stuff?"
"Are you?" he asked, turning toward me. His face was a mix of hope and fear.
"Of course I am," I said. "I told you, it doesn't matter to me, Josh. Don't think about it any more, ok?"
"OK," he said, kissing me on the forehead. "Maybe we should take that pasta salad down."
"Good idea," I said, going to the refrigerator for it.
We left the apartment, holding hands as we walked downstairs where Chris and Joey had already started the grill. They'd already started the beer, too, with several bottles resting in that metal tub Chris had brought to the last barbecue. Hopefully this one would go better. As we walked over, Joey handed me a beer.
"Oh, no, I don't like beer," I demurred.
"You do now!" Joey exclaimed, smacking me on the back. "Can't have steak without beer!"
"OK, sure," I said, taking it. His enthusiasm was infectious.
"Jack," Joey began, draping an arm over my shoulders and leading me toward the grill. "Have you ever grilled a steak before?"
"No, mostly just chicken," I said, shrugging.
"We got a lot to teach you," Joey said.
Joey took me under his wing at the grill, offering pointers and telling me about Labor Day barbecues with his family and learning the fine points of grilling from his grandfather. I dutifully tried to follow his advice, nodding when I thought it was appropriate, listening carefully to discussions on color and texture of the meat, and knowing when to turn it or when to poke it with a fork. It was very much like one of those television shows where the father stands out by the barbecue pit with the son, splitting beers with him, and having one of those male bonding moments. It was also completely outside of my own experience. My family wasn't the cookout type, and I didn't have a lot of straight male friends.
"This salad looks good," Chris said, peeking under the foil.
"It's been sitting all afternoon," Josh said, sipping his water. He passed on the beer, explaining that his stomach still wasn't settled from last night. "We made it for lunch, but never ate it."
"Why not?" Joey asked.
Josh and I both stammered and turned red, looking at each other and looking away. Joey laughed loudly and smacked me on the back, almost pitching me face forward into the grill.
"Jesus, you two," Chris said, shaking his head but smiling. "It's like a honeymoon or something."
Josh and I smiled at each other, and I blew him a kiss from the grill. Joey finally pronounced the steaks ready, and I blithely agreed, so we all settled in at the table, Josh and Chris setting the newspaper aside as Joey and I plopped a steak onto everyone's plate.
"No word from Justin?" I asked.
"Or Lance," Chris added, shaking his head.
"Speaking of, did you see Lance in the paper?" Joey asked, pointing.
"No," I said, taking it from Chris.
Joey directed me to the entertainment section, where I found a short article mentioning Lance and Britney's trip to the emergency room. The article was accurate, or at least accurate to our story, detailing Lance's tennis accident and the fact that Britney drove him. It mentioned that neither of them could be reached for comment, and that Lance's management had not yet issued a statement on whether this would affect the recording of the next album.
"I hadn't thought of that," I said. "Will it?"
"Probably not," Chris said. "His nose isn't broken. They just packed it to stop the bleeding."
"That's not the only place where we made the paper," Joey said. "Turn to the gossip column."
I did as I was told, and followed the trail of steak juice his finger left down the page. When I read what he was pointing at, a chill washed over me.
"Jack?" Josh asked, leaning forward. "Jack, are you ok?"
"This is about you, Josh," I said slowly. "Someone knows about you."
Maybe they should just stop having barbecues. None of them end well. More to come soon!