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.
That said, on with the show.
Josh practically pulled my arm from the socket dragging me by the hand out of the studio. He didn't say anything until we were in the car, when he pounded the steering wheel in frustration.
"Those assholes!" he said, hitting the wheel again. "They had no right to do that to you, no right!"
I watched him for a moment, unsure of whether I should say anything. Josh turned to me, and I saw that his eyes were wet.
"Jack, I'm sorry," he said, taking my hand. "I'm so sorry they did that to you. I didn't know."
"Josh, there's nothing for you to apologize for," I said, shrugging. "You didn't know they were going to do that."
"But they had no right to ask you to do that without asking me," he said. "They don't know you. They don't know anything about you. They had no right to just assume you're going to hurt us somehow."
"No one knows me anymore," I said, looking away.
"What do you mean by that?" Josh asked. I didn't answer. "Jack, what did you mean?"
I sighed.
"No one knows me, Josh, but everyone keeps talking about me," I said, turning back to him. "It's like I've become a non-person. All those stories, and that stuff on TV, they keep talking about JC's boyfriend, like I'm your Jag or something. It's like overnight I don't exist anymore."
Josh pulled me against him, laying my head on his shoulder.
"Jack, I didn't know you felt that way," he said, stroking my hair. "Did I, did I do something, or say something? Or did one of the guys?"
"No, Josh, no, it wasn't you," I said. "Like you said in there, you treat me like an equal. You always have, and the guys have, too. But to everyone else, it's like I'm an accessory, or a hanger on, or something. I just feel kind of lost right now."
Josh pulled my face up, and kissed me softly on the lips. I stared into his bright blue eyes, and saw only love and concern as he stared back at me.
"It's only because people don't know you," Josh said. "That's all. Besides, it doesn't matter what everyone else thinks. It's too easy to get caught up in all of this, Jack, too easy to spend all your time worrying about what people think about you and what they're saying on TV. None of it matters. I love you, and you love me, and that's all that matters to me."
"I love you, too, Josh," I said, leaning in to kiss him again. We held it a little longer this time, my hand carefully stroking the side of his face, as I felt his tongue dart into my mouth and then out again. Abruptly I became aware of the gearshift poking me uncomfortably in the stomach, and I broke the kiss, pulling away. "Maybe we should go get some dinner."
"Good idea," he said. "I need to call the guys when we get back, too. We have to be back in the studio tomorrow."
"I thought you guys could pick your own times for work?" I asked, as he started the car.
"Well, we can, but we haven't been in there in a couple weeks," Josh said, reminding me. "We're paying to rent all this studio time, so we need to use it, and I'm doing more producing on this album, too, so I can't really slack off too much."
"Yeah, you guys have been kind of distracted these past couple weeks, huh?" I agreed, smiling. Inside I knew it was my fault, at least partially.
"I don't regret it for a second," Josh said, putting my hand under his on the gearshift again. Oh yeah, I had missed this car. "Should we invite anyone else? Lance maybe?"
"Lance already has plans," I said, grinning.
"With who?" Josh asked, noticing the mirthful expression on my face. "Spill, Jack! I have ways of making you talk!"
"You have ways of making me spill, too," I said, grinning even wider as he turned bright red. "As long as you don't say anything to Lance, he's out with a friend. Howie, from the Backstreet Boys."
"What?" Josh asked, staring at me. "When did they become friends?"
"I don't know, but Lance seemed pretty excited about it," I said. "He was blushing, even."
"Wait a minute," Josh said, glancing at me again. "It's not like, you know, a date, is it?"
"Lance didn't say it was, but he looked kind of excited," I answered, shrugging. "Is Howie, you know, batting for our team?"
"I don't know," Josh said, shrugging. "If he is, well, good for Lance."
We had a quiet dinner. The restaurant wasn't what I would have picked, filled as it was with agents and stars and the like, but Josh figured the best place for us to get an uninterrupted meal would be one where we were part of the crowd, and, of course, he was right. Our entrance and trip to our table, predictably enough, set off a flurry of discussions, but most people smiled at us, and we were surprised halfway through the meal with a bottle of wine that Sharon Stone sent over.
"I didn't know you knew her," I said, as we returned to our table after walking over briefly to thank her and say hello. She seemed a lot nicer in person than I had always thought she would be.
"I don't," Josh said, shrugging. "Apparently we're Hollywood's favorite newlyweds."
"Just what I dreamed of being when I was a little boy," I said, clapping my hands and grinning.
"You said you got a call from your mother," Josh began carefully. "Everything ok?"
"As much as it ever is," I answered, sighing. "She's upset because people at the club saw us on TV last night, and I didn't even think to call her to tell her I'd be coming out, or that I was dating a celebrity."
"Wait, I thought you were out to your family," Josh said, that tiny cute frown line appearing between his eyebrows.
"Oh, I am, but you don't really think they tell their friends about it, do you?" I said, laughing. "It's not biggie. She'll get over it."
"You sure you're ok with it?" Josh asked, taking my hand.
"Josh, on the mother scale, this was a light shower," I said. "Not even worth a thunderstorm warning."
"If you're sure," he said, returning his hand to his silverware. "My mom called, too. She wanted to tell you that they're very proud of us, and they love us both. She wants you to call her, when you get time."
I chuckled dryly, shaking my head.
"What?" Josh asked, smiling as the waiter brought our dessert.
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "It's just a weird contrast between your parents and mine. My mom is all like, 'Oh, dear, what are we going to put in the Christmas cards?' and yours is like, 'Gee, I guess if you love each other, it's ok. Go have sex in the boathouse.'"
"My mom knew we were out in the boathouse all those times?" he blurted loudly, jaw hanging open.
"Good God, Josh, she's a grown woman," I said, giggling. "How do you think she got three kids?"
"Maybe I should call my mom later, too," Josh said, blushing.
"You're so cute when you're embarrassed," I said, returning my attention to my dessert. I though there was cheesecake buried in it somewhere, under all the flowers and oddly shaped pieces of chocolate protruding from it.
"Hey, Jack, I need to talk to you about something else, too," Josh began carefully. I looked up and saw that his face looked very serious. "We can wait until later, if you want."
"No, now is fine," I said, still trying to figure out how to actually reach my dessert beneath the protective cage of garnish. Maybe this was how everyone stayed so thin out here. "What's up?"
"Remember what you were saying earlier, about how nobody really knows you?" he asked. I nodded. "Maybe we should give an interview. Or a couple, like a television and a print."
"Josh, I don't know," I began. "I mean, I already feel like too many people are looking at me, and I'm kind of a private person."
"I know, but just think about it for a second," Josh said quickly, taking my hand. "I think it might be good if we just kind of spelled everything out for people. It might educate some people, or open their minds a little, and it would show people that you're not just this, like, boy toy who follows me around."
I thought about it for a second.
"Josh, I can see the good points to that, but remember when Ellen and Anne Heche started going around telling everyone how happy they were, and how great it was to be lesbians, and suddenly they were everywhere?" I asked. Josh kind of shrugged and nodded. "I don't want us to become poster children, Josh. I don't mind being gay, but I don't want it to be all that people see when they look at me, and I don't want that to happen to you, either. I mean, already it's like, Justin is the cute one, and Lance is the serious one, and you, now you're the gay one. Is that what you want?"
"No, not really," Josh said, looking down for a second. "But what I was thinking was we do this, just one time, and that's it. We make it clear that yes, we know people want to know, and that's why we're talking, but that this is our private life, and we'd like for it to be left that way."
"That sounds kind of like it might work," I said, thinking it over. I didn't really believe that people would leave us alone after that, but maybe it would serve to remove some of the suddenly glaring spotlight I felt like we were under. I also didn't point out that it might be a little difficult saying we wanted our private life left alone after we'd thrown it out on camera for all the world to see. "This is your kind of thing. How do we go about setting something like this up?"
Josh smiled, looking relieved.
"Out in the car I have a list from our publicists," Josh began. "It's all the people who have contacted the label, and who they work for. I think we should go through it and decide who we want to talk to."
"OK, that sounds fine," I said. Maybe this really all would work out. I stared down at my dessert. "Hey Josh?"
"Yeah?" he asked, looking up again.
"How the hell do I get to my cheesecake?"
We both laughed, and the seriousness of the moment passed. We finished dinner and headed home, back to the apartments. No one was in the courtyard as always, and the lights were off in most of the apartments, except for Justin's, where I could see the flicker of a television. There was a note stuck to our door, from Joey and Chris.
"J Squared: We fixed your table. Are out clubbing. Call if you want to join us."
"You want to go out?" Josh asked, unlocking the door. I wasn't sure why we bothered to lock it, since no one could get past the gates but us, and Jackie gave out the spare keys with abandon.
"I'd rather just stay in," I said.
As promised, the table was in great shape, as long as you didn't get down and check the underside. There was a post it note stuck to the top.
"No Sex on Table."
"They're funny," Josh said, grinning, as he pulled his phone out.
"Oh, are they?" I asked, giggling as I turned on one of the lamps.
There were post it notes all over the room, in both Joey and Chris's handwriting. "No Sex on Counter." "Sex on Couch OK." "No Sex on Coffeetable." "No Sex on TV (unless is on Spice Channel)." There was even one stuck in the middle of the floor: "Sex on Carpet OK - Ouch! Rugburn!" I laughed softly as I walked through the apartment, pulling them down from every surface in every room. They must have used an entire pad, and I was already wondering what we were going to do to get back at them while Josh called everyone's apartments to tell them they had to be back at the studio at nine in the morning.
"Tell Chris we'll run at seven," I said, stripping down to my undershirt and boxers. I settled onto the couch and began to look through the stack of papers Josh had handed me, marking with a pen the ones I thought sounded promising. "Rikki Lake called? Jesus, Josh, we want an interview, not a makeover."
"You're mean," Josh giggled. As I watched, his face changed, the soft, laughing curves sliding into hard planes. I knew who he was calling now. "Hello, Justin. We have to be at the studio at nine tomorrow morning, ready to work. Goodbye. What? Well, come after you drop her off at the airport, then. Goodbye, Justin."
"That was a little harsh," I said, watching him hang up the telephone. "You ok?"
"I'm fine," he said, settling in next to me on the couch. I leaned back against him, and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. "I'm sorry. I just, I get upset when I talk to him. I'm still angry, and I don't like to think about it."
"Then let's think about something else," I said, setting the papers aside and reaching for the television remote control. "We haven't just had a quiet night with the TV in a while."
"You're right," Josh sighed. "Tell you what. Find something to watch, and I'll get us drinks, and make some popcorn."
Josh and I settled in on the couch for a quiet night of cuddling, feeding each other popcorn, and watching television. We had wildly different taste in shows, but still managed to find something for both of us to watch, and we managed to avoid the news on every channel. We also called his mother, passing the phone back and forth between the two of us as we talked to her. Karen mainly just wanted to touch base, see how we were bearing up under the new strain, and let us know that we could come out to the house any time if we needed to get away, even if only one of us could make it. I thanked her, and promised to think about it, while again thinking of the marked differences between my real family and the one who had apparently completely adopted me.
When Josh started to yawn I figured we were done watching the television and shut it off, over his protests that he really wasn't that tired, and he had only closed his eyes for a second. We cleaned up our snack mess, brushed our teeth side by side in the bathroom, and climbed into bed. Josh snuggled up against me, my back spooned to his front, and both of us sighed as we realized that we could hear Justin and Britney's bed hitting the wall again.
"Just a second," I said, sliding out of bed again.
I padded barefoot in my boxers through the living room to the stereo and switched it on, just quiet enough to cover their noise, but not loud enough to keep us from falling asleep. Glancing out the window over the stereo, I saw Lance down in the courtyard, standing in front of his door and looking at a narrow piece of paper in his hands. I thought about opening the door to ask if he was ok, but then he opened his door and went inside. I decided to ask him tomorrow as I walked back to the bedroom.
"Good idea," Josh said, holding the sheet up for me as I slid back into bed, pressing my bare shoulders against his warm, rounded chest. He kissed my shoulder, and then the back of my neck, his little beard scraping across my skin, contrasting with the silken feeling of his smooth, wet lips.
"Worked every time in college," I smiled, leaning into him as I felt his hands brushing lightly up and down my sides, playing over my skin. "That feels good, Josh."
"How good?" he purred softly, his head on my shoulder, his lips brushing over my neck. His hands continued to roam over my body, feather light, just brushing over my skin with enough pressure to offer the promise of something possible, but not delivering yet.
"Keep it up and I'll show you," I answered. I may have been sleepy ten minutes ago, but my whole body was waking up under his smooth touch.
Josh laughed softly against me, his breath puffing out over my neck, his abs crunching against my back. His hands were sliding over me everywhere at once, not stopping long enough to pinch or press or squeeze, just long enough to brush over my nerves, lightly tickling over me, setting my entire body on fire as I pressed back against him. I felt his steely hard shaft throbbing against my ass, and deliberately ground back against him. He groaned, and his fingers and hands began to slide over me with more urgency, brushing over the curves of my pecks, running up and down my abs, fluttering over my arms, sliding down my sides, brushing over my nipples.
I felt his fingers dip below the waistband of my boxers, brushing over the top of my ass, before his hands slid together around the front of my pelvis. He wrapped both hands around my cock, which was hard and wet in his fists, and he began to slowly jerk me off from behind, stroking smoothly up and down my shaft as he kissed my neck and shoulders over and over. I groaned, pressing against him, feeling his chest and arms moving against my back as his hands continued to pump me, their movement hindered by my boxers. Josh let go of my cock and began to slide my boxers down with both hands, his body sliding beneath the sheet as he pulled the cotton down my legs. As he sank down, his tongue darted out, and ran down the length of my spine from my neck to the small of my back.
"Josh," I sighed, my eyes closed. "Why do we even bother wearing clothes to bed?"
"I don't know," he answered from beneath the sheets. I felt his hands on my hips, gently rolling me onto my back. "They just get in the way."
I felt his hands sliding up over my legs, pulling them apart a little, and then his tongue washed over my cock, from base to head. I thought he'd take it into his mouth, like he usually did when he was down there, but his tongue slid right off the end of my cock and began climbing my belly, running the length of my abdomen up the crease that all guys with any definition have down the center of them. His head burst out from under the sheet, his hair a mess, as his tongue lapped up over my neck, and then his mouth settled onto mine as he again wrapped both of his soft, strong hands around my cock, moving them in two directions at once. My moans were muffled, covered by his lips and tongue, and I realized that he had also shucked his boxer briefs when I felt his hard cock rubbing against my thigh, the head dripping a little, leaving sticky wet kisses near my hip.
"You like that?" he asked, his chest resting on mine, the firm pressure of his muscles pushing me down into the bed. "You like that, Jack?"
"Hell yes," I panted, twisting back against the mattress beneath him, lost in the feeling of his hands on my cock mixed with his mouth on my neck and his chest and arms flexing against me as his hands continued working. It was like a vicious cycle of sensation, each feeding into the next, and we were both starting to sweat a little, our bodies rubbing and sliding over each other.
"Just checking," he answered, laughing softly against my neck as he finally released one of his hands, reaching over toward the nightstand, fishing around in that drawer I knew so well. I don't think we'd even put anything in any of the other drawers, which was probably a sad waste of space.
My hands were running up and down Josh's back, scratching lightly, as he tore open the condom wrapper, and then, to my surprise, he began rolling it down over me.
"Josh?" I asked, as he began to lube up my latex covered shaft.
"I want you inside me," he growled, crawling up my body to straddle me.
I felt his firm, strong thighs slide down on either side of mine, and then Josh grabbed my cock again, pressing it against him. I tried not to move, letting him be in control, and after a moment of gentle pressure, I felt my head slide inside, past the tight ring of muscle. Above me, Josh bit his lower lip, his body trembling a little as he strained to slowly lower himself onto me, his face a mix of pleasure and discomfort. I ran my hands up and down his sides, stroking lightly over his skin, as he stared down at me. Wincing slightly, he lowered himself all the way down, and I felt myself resting warmly inside him. He smiled down at me, resting on top of me, catching his breath as he relaxed around me.
Slowly, exquisitely slowly, he began to flex, and I saw his thighs bunch as he lifted himself up a little, and then slowly slid back down. His whole torso, stretched above me, seemed to undulate as he slowly rose and fell, wincing a little sometimes, but his face began to smooth out as a flush bloomed softly over his features. As he continued his slow gyration above me, I realized that he was moving in time to the music on the stereo, and I smiled as I lay below him, my hands tucked behind my head, his hands resting on my chest. Josh looked down at me, saw my grin, and smiled as well. His body was covered in a light sheen of sweat, and it began to bead and collect on his chest.
Leaning up, I brought my mouth to Josh's pecs as I pulled myself to a sitting position. He shifted a little, but continued his slow dance as he straddled me, my cock sliding in and out of him as the exquisite friction of his tight ass drove me wild beneath him. I began to lick and suck at his chest, swiping up his salty sweat with my tongue, and he moaned and sighed above me, throwing his head back and tangling his hands in my hair, pulling me against him. I bit and sucked at his nipples, and then at his chest again, scraping my teeth over his warm skin, feeling the muscles of his chest flex and press against my face. I felt his heart beating through the skin, and could feel the vibration of his groans and whimpers of pleasure through my lips as it radiated out from his chest. Josh grabbed my hair painfully, yanking my head back roughly so that he could bring his mouth down to mine, tilting his head down as he rode above me and jamming his tongue into my throat.
Our headboard was now slapping the wall as well, since we'd forgotten to return the blanket that we had draped over it a few weeks ago. I didn't care if Justin and Britney heard us, but I hoped it wasn't bothering Chris. Then again, there had been a post it on the headboard that said, "Sex on Bed OK." If Chris was going to protest, he'd had his chance and blown it.
Speaking of blowing it, I realized that I was getting kind of close, and that I hadn't done anything to help Josh out yet, while he'd so far taken excellent care of me. I felt his cock throbbing and dancing between us as the two of us remained pressed together, and then I let go of him, slowly, and let myself drop back down onto the mattress. Josh looked down at me through glassy, half-closed eyes, his face a smooth mask of pleasure, squinting on every thrust in a kind of surprised happiness as my cock hit his prostate, that place inside him that was guaranteed to send waves of warmth cascading through his nerve endings. His cock smacked against my belly as he continued his dance above me, faster now, his own breathing picking up as trickles of sweat began to run down the valley between his pecks. His nipples were hard and pointed, and his face was going rosy above me, flushed and straining. I wrapped my hands around his cock and began to slowly stroke him in tempo with his riding, and my own hips began to buck lightly as I thrust back beneath him.
His cock throbbed in my hands, the spongy head wet with precum leaking from his slit, and I swirled it over the top, feeling it surge and jump beneath my fingers with every heartbeat. He began to sigh and whimper louder now, his breathing becoming sharp and high pitched. Inside him, I felt myself getting close to, and I began to stroke his cock faster, more roughly, as I felt myself pushing toward the edge.
"Jack, Jack," he panted, staring down at me, letting out little mewing whimpering noises like a kitten.
"Oh, God, Josh, you're so tight," I panted. "I'm so close, baby, so close."
With a sudden, sharp cry, he yelped above me and began to shoot glistening, ropy arcs of cum across my chest and stomach, his cock jerking in my hands as he tossed his head back, his eyes closed. As his orgasm washed over him, his ass clamped tight around my cock, all but crushing me, and I blasted up into him, throwing my own head back into the pillows. Panting my name, he collapsed on top of me in a tangle of wet, sweaty limbs and straining muscles, and I let him rest against me for a minute before carefully sliding out of him. I reached for the tissues, and he pulled them out of my hands.
"No, let me," he whispered as I lay, spent, below him.
I felt his hands crawling and sliding over me, and then heard the tissues dropping to the floor in a soft fall of crumpled paper. Josh slid off of me, finally, snuggling up against my back, and began to kiss my shoulders and the back of my neck again.
"I love you, Josh," I whispered, pressing back against him as he pulled the sheet back up over us.
"I love you, too," he answered, his breathing falling into sync with mine.
We drifted off to sleep, cradled against each other.
Downstairs, in his apartment, Lance was stripping out of his clothes, getting ready for bed. He had taken to sleeping in the other bedroom, since he came back from the clinic, and had moved most of his things from one room to the other. He couldn't sleep in there, no matter how tired he was, because every time he closed his eyes all he could see were the other things that had happened in that room.
Emptying his pockets, he paused to look again at the pair of pictures on the little strip that Howie had given him. Howie had taken the top half, which showed Lance looking more surprised when Howie had first poked him, and that left Lance with the last two pictures. He and Howie filled the frame, their faces screaming masks of laughter, Lance twisted oddly as he tried to push Howie away. Staring at the pictures, Lance realized that he looked happy, really happy in them. His face didn't look pale, or strained. There weren't any dark circles under his eyes, which were squinting with laughter, and his head was thrown back in complete abandon.
Staring at the picture, Lance thought again about the evening he had just enjoyed, yes, enjoyed, with Howie, replaying the entire thing in his mind. Every time he thought of Howie's face, he experienced again those little shivers, those feelings of warmth. He felt like Howie was the first person in weeks who just treated him like a person. More than that, Howie had treated him like a friend. Howie had seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with Lance, and had made Lance feel like he might actually have something to offer to another person, like he might actually be worth knowing, and Lance hadn't felt that way in a long time. For just tonight, for the briefest few hours, Lance had felt like the hole, the gnawing and painful hole at his center, had been filled.
Staring down at the picture, he thought of how flat Howie looked in it, how less vibrant than the real Howie. The picture didn't catch the sparkle in Howie's brown eyes, or the glint of his smile. The picture didn't hold the smell of his cologne, or the warm feel of his hands. Lance remembered how Howie had invited him to his room, and wondered why Howie had done so. He wondered what Howie had wanted, and then realized that he knew. Lance knew exactly what Howie had wanted. What could anyone want from Lance, but that one thing? He would have gone into Howie's room, and then Howie would have told him that he had seen him looking. Howie would have told him that he knew what Lance was, and what Lance wanted. Howie would have pushed him down to his knees, and then he would have unbuckled his belt, because that's all that Lance was good for, and it was all he deserved. The warm glow would have gone out of Howie's eyes, replaced by cold contempt as Howie used him, and then threw him away.
Lance realized he couldn't go to the movies with Howie tomorrow. He couldn't go anywhere with Howie. He would rather have this one memory, this one perfect evening, this one recollection to cradle to his chest. He grabbed the phone, suddenly realizing that he was crying, that tears were streaming down his cheeks, and picked it up to dial Howie's number. Another voice in his head stopped him. He wasn't sure whose voice it was, or where it had come from, but it insisted that Howie wouldn't treat him that way. Not Howie. Not the person who had ridden the ferris wheel just to make him happy, or held his hand on the roller coaster. Howie wouldn't do that to him, he couldn't.
His hand shaking, Lance dropped the phone on the nightstand, next to the little strip of pictures. His eyes ticked back and forth between the two, between the telephone and the photographs, between calling and not calling. Reaching out with his shaking hand, watching it flutter, he realized that his whole body was shaking, and he flicked off the light.
He crawled into bed, curling up into a little ball, clutching his pillow to him, but it was a long time before he fell asleep.
That's all for now. Once again, no cliffhangers. :)