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.
Sorry for the longer than usual gaps between chapters. Things got busy here. Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I've enjoyed hearing from all of you.
So, on with Season 2 of the story.
"A serious talk?" I asked.
"Don't worry, we're not breaking up," he said, hugging me. "Why don't you put on, like, a button down or something, and I'll hop in the shower really quick."
"OK," I said. "Are my pants ok?"
"Yeah, they're fine," he said absently, already tugging off his shirt on his way to the shower. I saw that I wasn't the only one who hadn't had time for a full paint removal this morning, and smiled.
"Nice artwork," I called.
"Don't worry," he said, turning on the shower. "I saved the sheets."
I waited while Josh showered, and then quickly got dressed. I was thumbing the television remote, flipping randomly through the channels while I waited for him. Josh finally emerged from the bedroom, running his hands through his hair to push it back, and leaned down to hug me. I was curious about where we were going, as most of our trips didn't require a dress code, but he wasn't sharing anything, apparently.
"You smell good," I said, licking his neck.
"Thanks," he said, pulling me up off of the couch. "Ready to go?"
"Whenever you are," I answered.
Josh took my hand and led me down the stairs and out to the parking lot, where a limousine was waiting. We climbed in the back, and began to drive through the city. Josh held my hand the whole time while I wondered if the driver had signed a confidentiality agreement. It was an odd thought for me, but I was starting to feel a little watched. If I saw one more picture of myself in the paper, or, god forbid, clipped out and mailed to me, I might not want to leave the apartment again ever.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Somewhere quiet," Josh answered. "I want to talk to you, and I'm tired of the guys coming to the door every time we get a moment together. Lance can apologize to himself for a while, and Justin can talk to Chris or Joey about Brit. I want to talk to you, and only you, right now."
I watched the city roll by, and eventually we pulled up to a stop.
At a cemetery.
"Josh?" I asked, looking out the window.
"Come on," he said, stepping out as the driver opened the door for us. Josh glanced at him. "Come back in about an hour, ok?"
"Certainly, sir," the driver answered, nodding his head.
"Thanks," Josh said, waiting for me to climb out.
I looked around uncertainly. The cemetery was right in the middle of the city, with skyscrapers all around, and was more or less a large lawn. It was almost like an island, and I wondered why on earth I had to put on long sleeves to go to a cemetery. I thought we might be on Wilshire, but wasn't sure. Chris would have to show me around about ten more times before I actually remembered any of the layout of the city.
"Josh, where are we?" I asked.
"Westwood Memorial," he said. "I like to come here to think."
"You come to the cemetery to think?" I asked, watching the limo pull away.
"It's quiet, and no one ever thinks to look for me here," he said. "Let's go for a walk."
"Are we here to see anyone in particular?" I asked, walking alongside him.
"Is there anyone you want to see?" he asked. "I know where all the stones are. Well, not Frank Zappa, because he's unmarked, but I know what part he's in."
I stared at him.
"Josh, this is creepy," I said. "You memorized where all the famous people are buried?"
"Not on purpose," he said, walking along. "I just kind of learned where they are from walking around here so much."
"OK, that's marginally less creepy," I said, still trying to put this all together. "Josh, are you about to tell me you're dying?"
"No," he said, smiling. "I'm sorry. This is just gonna be a little hard for me, so please, let's just walk around, and relax, and then talk, ok?"
"OK," I answered.
We walked up and down the paths, passing a lot of people taking pictures, but they were so intent on the dead celebrities that no one seemed to notice that there was a live one wandering around. It was a rather small cemetery, so it didn't take us long to make our way through the lawn, the private garden, and past the wall crypts, but I saw a lot of memorials for people I recognized. Somewhere in one of the back corners of my mind I knew that this was where Marilyn Monroe was interred, but I hadn't realized that there were so many other famous people in the same cemetery. It was a nice day, kind of sunny, breezy, but not too warm, and there were actually birds other than seagulls flying around the trees. Overall, it was a very calming, peaceful place, and I could understand why Josh might come here.
I just didn't know why we were here now.
Josh stopped at one of the little benches, far away from anyone else, and sat down. He patted the bench beside him, and I sat down as well.
"So," he said, looking at me. Even though we were in public I put a hand over his and squeezed gently before letting go, and he smiled. "It's nice here, isn't it?"
"It's quiet," I said. "And kind of peaceful. Do you come here a lot?"
"Only when I really need to think," he said. "Or when I need to get away from the guys for a while. I walk around here, and I look at all the stones, and it reminds me of what's really important in my life."
"So the guys don't know about this place?" I asked.
"I'm sure they know it exists," Josh answered. "We've driven past, but I don't think they know I come here."
"But you brought me here," I said.
"You're important to me, Jack," Josh said, turning toward me again. I felt myself falling into his eyes. "I love you, Jack. You're like a part of me. Even though we haven't really been together that long, I feel it, and I think you feel it, too."
"You know I do, Josh," I said. "I love you more than I've ever loved anybody. I love you so much it hurts sometimes."
"I know," he sighed. "Because I feel the same way. All the times that I've told you that you make me feel whole, I mean it, Jack, and that's why this is going to be really hard."
"Just say it, Josh," I said, staring at the marker across from us. It was Natalie Wood's, listed as Natalie Wood Wagner, and songs from "Westside Story" began to play in my head to fill the silence between us. "Please just say it, Josh, whatever it is. I don't think I can take any more waiting."
He took a deep breath.
"I have to leave you for a while," he said, pausing after, awaiting my reaction.
"Oh," I said, staring at my hands.
"Just 'oh'?" he asked quietly.
"For now," I said, turning to him. "I mean, I'm sure you're about to go into a really good explanation, because there has to be one, so I guess I'm just going to sit here and wait for it."
"You're amazing," he said. "You trust me that much, don't you?"
"I mean it all those times I say it, Josh," I said. "But I'm not going to be amazing for much longer. Please, just tell me the rest."
"OK," he said. "It's kind of a long story."
"That's ok," I said. "Natalie and I aren't going anywhere."
He glanced across from us, and smiled.
"As I was saying, it's kind of a long story," Josh began again. "I think it started when Chris cornered us, and I admitted to him that we were together. I hadn't realized how much I felt like I was holding off part of myself from everyone until we told Chris. After we told him, it was like there was this weight that was gone, and that's why I decided to tell everyone."
I waited for him to continue, remembering how things had gone when he told the rest of the guys, and Britney, at the barbecue.
"You know what happened at the barbecue," he said, as if reading it from my thoughts. "Lance caught me really, really off guard. I mean, I guess in my head I thought that since I was ok with it, everyone would be, and when Chris was, I just assumed that all the guys would be happy for me, too. When Lance didn't take it well, I wasn't just hurt by that. I was hurt because he would still have been my friend if I hadn't said anything. I thought that maybe it was my fault that Lance was upset by it, because of who I am."
"That's Lance's problem, not yours," I said, adding hastily, "And I think he's trying to get over it."
Josh looked at me again, a frown creasing between his eyebrows.
"I don't care how many times he apologizes, Jack," Josh said. "His actions speak louder than his words."
I looked at my hands again, not wanting to get into another argument over Lance. Josh knew him better than I did, so maybe Josh was right, and I shouldn't just accept whatever Lance said at face value. Still, I kept wanting to.
"Maybe we shouldn't get into that again right now," Josh said, again reading my mind. I wasn't sure if it was uncanny, if he knew me that well, or if my face was just an open book. "What I'm trying to say is that I felt like I was holding a lot inside, like I was closing part of myself off, and then I told the guys, and I felt better. Even if Lance didn't like it, at least we could talk about it. It was out there, and everybody knew who I was."
"OK," I said, because he had paused.
"Sorry, I was just thinking again," he said.
"It's ok," I said. "I think I'm following you so far."
"Good," he said, squeezing my hand again. I wished he could leave it on mine, but knew better. All we needed was for some camera happy tourist to stop by, and sell the picture to that damned gossip column guy. "Since we told the guys, though, I haven't really had a chance to catch my breath, except for the past day or two, and neither have you. There was the fight with Lance, and that whole mess with Justin, and then you and me, and then the cars, and we've just been going one thing after another."
"Jesus, you can say that again," I said. We both giggled a little. "We've had more drama in the past week or so than most people have in the first couple years."
"Yeah, but the past couple days have been quiet, and I've enjoyed it," he said.
"So have I," I said, but then realized I kept interrupting him.
"I hope so," Josh said, smiling at me again, his perfect lips parting to flash his pearly teeth. "But what I was trying to get to was that, since it's been quiet, I've had a lot of time to think. I've had time to think about you, and our relationship, but I've also had time to think about myself, and what's best for me, and what I need to do for myself as a person."
I felt a little flutter of panic in my chest.
"Are you breaking up with me?" I asked.
"No, no, I already told you before we left the house that I'm not breaking up with you," he said, patting my hand again. "I need to get out of here for a while, and I don't want to take you with me."
"Do whatever you need to, then," I said quickly, standing. Josh grabbed my arm.
"Jack, that didn't come out right," he said. I glared down at him, but his face didn't look cruel. He just looked concerned. "Please sit back down, and let me explain. That didn't come out the way I meant it to at all."
"Am I smothering you or something? Are you tired of having me around?" I asked, sitting down.
"No, never that," he said. "See, when we were at that interview yesterday morning the guy was asking us all the usual kind of questions, and we were giving all the usual answers. You know, what we do in our spare time, how we feel about the fans, how happy we are about the album, all that kind of stuff. And then he asked about our families, and I realized I haven't spoken to mine about any of this."
"About me?" I asked.
"Not just about you," he answered. "I haven't told them anything. I've pulled away from them as much as I have from the guys, because I feel like I'm lying when I'm with them. I feel like I have to keep being their Joshua, their brother, their son, and I have to keep being who they expect me to be. I haven't told anyone in my family that I'm gay, Jack. And the not telling them is turning into this wall between us. It makes me not want to go home, and when I do go, I'm moody, and I don't want to talk to them, because I feel like I just keep digging in deeper."
"Are you planning to tell them?" I asked, curious.
"That's what I'm trying to tell you," Josh answered. "I want to go home, and I want to see my family. I want to sit down with them, and I want to tell them everything. I want to tell them about who I am, and who I love. I mean, I told the guys. The guys are my family, too, but this is my real family, Jack. This is my mom and dad, and my brother and sister, and I can't keep lying to them anymore, because when I do I'm lying to myself. I can't ever be the person you deserve to have if I can't be honest with the people I love."
"So you're going to go see them?" I asked.
"Well, they're not all in the same place, so it's going to be a couple trips," he answered. "Tyler's not at school right now, but Heather is still out doing her veterinarian thing, so I thought I'd go see her, and then fly to Chicago to see Tyler and my folks."
"And you want to go alone?" I asked, just to make sure I was getting it all.
"Yes," Josh answered.
I looked at my hands again.
"Not for the reasons you're thinking, Jack," Josh said.
"How do you know what I'm thinking?" I asked. "How do you know I'm even thinking anything?"
"I know you're hurt right now, because I can see it," he said. "I can see it in the way you look at your hands, and the way your shoulders drop a little. I can see it in your eyes, Jack, and I can feel it in my heart."
I felt Josh's fingers, so soft, slide up the sides of my face as he turned my head toward his.
"Jack, I'm not ashamed of you, and I'm not sorry that I love you," he said, letting go. I kept my gaze level. "My family is going to meet you someday, and I hope that, because I love you, they will, too. Jack, I know you don't get on so well with your family, and I hope that someday you'll be a part of mine. You already kind of are, with the guys, but I want you to feel like you belong somewhere, and I want it to be the same place where I belong, because I plan to be with you for the rest of my life."
"Yes, you've said that before," I said, unsure of what else I should say.
"I know," he said. "Jack, I don't know how my family is going to react. I think they're going to be ok with it, I hope they are, but what if they're not? What if they need time to adjust to this? What if they need some time to get used to the idea? I want to talk to them about all of this, and I want them to understand, and I want them to focus on me. If they have questions, I want to answer them. If they're angry, I want them to be angry at me. I don't want them to resent you, or blame you. When I bring you home to meet my family, I want them to be ready to meet you, so that they can welcome you with loving arms."
I giggled a little.
"What?" he asked.
"I'm sorry," I said. "The phrase was just very Norman Rockwell."
He smiled, relieved.
"Do you, you know, understand what I'm trying to tell you, Jack?" Josh asked.
"I think so," I answered. "You want to reconnect with your family, and rebuild that bond, before you tell them the rest. Are you going to tell them about me?"
"Yes," he answered immediately. "I told you, I don't want to lie to them anymore. And I don't want to wait very long before they meet you, either. Just until they're comfortable with the idea."
"Josh, I told you when we first got together to take this all at your own pace," I said, smiling at him.
"Because of your ex-boyfriend," he said.
"Yes, because of Peyton," I said, nodding. "And I meant it. When you're ready to bring me home to mom and dad, I'll be up for it, and I'll wait as long as you want to. No pressure."
Josh smiled, and looked pretty relieved. His shoulders dropped a little, and his face smoothed, his tanned skin stretching again across his high cheekbones, his eyes sparkling. The breeze caught his hair a little, ruffling it, pulling it off of his high, flawless forehead.
"I guess I knew you'd understand if I explained it to you," he said, smiling guilelessly at me. "I was just kind of scared to tell you. I didn't want you to think I was leaving you, or that it was your fault."
"You could have just come right out and said, 'I want to go visit my family,'" I said, shrugging. "We didn't have to go through all this."
"I think we needed to," Josh said. "I'm not like you. You're blunt, but I need to talk things out."
"That's why we're so good together," I said. "Balance."
We sat on the bench in the peace and quiet for a minute.
"You kind of didn't cover something, though," I began.
"What?" Josh asked, staring at me. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out what he hadn't covered.
"What do I do while you're gone?" I asked. "Do you want me to stay here, or should I go home?"
"I kind of thought you were starting to think of here as home," Josh said carefully.
"I do, kind of," I admitted. "I mean, wherever you are is ok with me, but this really is your apartment. I'm still on vacation, and have weeks of it left, but I do have a home of my own, Josh."
"What are you going to do if you go home, though?" Josh asked. "I mean, at least here you have the guys."
"I have friends at home, too, Josh," I said carefully.
"I know, I know," he said. "Jeez, everything I say today comes out wrong. I guess I just kind of thought you'd stay here. Like Joey says, you're part of the family now."
"However dysfunctional it might be," I said. Josh gave me an odd look, his eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that look, Josh. I might be part of the family, but the family definitely belongs on a talk show somewhere."
I meant for it to be funny, but Josh only mustered the weakest of smiles.
"I know we're not perfect, Jack," Josh said. "I mean, look where we are. When we started this, Justin was only fourteen. None of us thought we'd get this far, or ever be this big, and we deal with it in different ways. Chris smokes, and he has the models, wherever we go. Joey eats. He makes jokes about it, and he isn't like obesely huge or anything, but he eats for comfort sometimes. Justin has Britney, and when things get bad, he just immerses himself in her. And Lance has God."
"What about you, Josh?" I asked, afraid of the answer.
He turned to me again, and I saw my fears reflected in his eyes.
"Are you afraid I'm going to say that you're my coping mechanism?" he asked. "Are you afraid that the only reason I love you is because I need an outlet? Because that's not true. I love you for you. For me, I usually just turn back to my music."
It was true. He usually spent at least an hour a day at his keyboard.
"But you're good for me," Josh continued. "And not just me. You're like a little pocket of normal for us, Jack. I need you because I love you, but I also need you because you ground me, and I think you do it for the other guys, too. You've never treated me like you thought I was JC Chasez, superstar, and you know I appreciate that. The guys appreciate the way you treat them, too."
"It goes both ways, Josh," I said. "All I wanted was for your friends to like me."
"I know, because you didn't want me to feel like I had to choose," Josh said. "They probably won't say it, Jack, but I think the guys need you. When we're with you, we feel like people again. Everyone else treats us like a commodity. When we're with other people, we're always on our stage, but when we're with you, we can drop it, and you accept us for who we are. And when we do something together, we get to see everything through your eyes, and it's like this is all new to us again, too. It's too easy to get caught up in the business, and we forget sometimes how lucky we are. Having a friend like you reminds us of where we came from."
"I didn't realize I was so important to all of you," I said.
"Well, you are," Josh said. "But that's only a fraction of why you're important to me. I love you, Jack."
"I love you, too," I said. "So you want me to stay with the guys while you're gone?"
"I want you to do whatever you want to do," Josh said. "I can find you in either place."
"I think I'd like to stay here," I said. "I mean, Carla's forwarding my mail and watering my plants. I'm just starting to get to know Joey, and Chris and I are really starting to get tight. I think Justin's missing Brit, and if you leave, he's going to need someone to pal around with. And I think I might be able to make some progress with Lance. Or at least try to."
"I was hoping you'd stay here," he said. "I feel better knowing you're safe, and with my other family."
We both sighed.
"So, how long are you going to be gone, do you think?" I asked.
"Maybe a week?" he suggested. "I don't know how it's all going to go."
"I guess we'll take it as it comes, then," I said, shrugging. "When were you planning to leave?"
Josh swallowed.
"Tomorrow afternoon," he said.
"Oh," I said, feeling punched in the gut again. I tried to cover it with a smile. "OK, I guess we should get you home and packed, then."
"I know it's sudden, but I don't want to put this off any more," he said.
"OK, Josh," I said, patting his hand. "Whatever you think is best. I'm not going to lie, though. This does hurt some, just because I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you, too," he said.
"You and I spend more time running away from each other," I sighed. We stared at the memorials for a moment or two, listening to a car horn wail somewhere outside the cemetery.
"I know, but this is only temporary," Josh said. We resumed staring at the plaques. "Being that, you know, we're having a deep thoughts moment, is there anything you need to get off your chest?"
I thought for a second about telling him about the mail I'd gotten, but then realized that I could probably solve the whole thing while he was gone. With all the worrying and stress he was under with having to tell his family, it would be wrong to drop this on him, too, I rationalized.
"Just one other question," I said. "Why did I have to change my shirt to come to the cemetery?"
"Oh, you didn't," he answered, standing. I stood as well, and we began walking back to where we'd been dropped off. "You needed to be changed for the rest of the evening."
Hmmmm. Not a lot of sex in these chapters lately. Better do something about that soon. :)