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.
This season would not have happened if not for a discussion I had with Clive, who is generous enough to cohost this story on his site. Stop and tell him hello at www.authorclive.co.uk
That said, back to the show.
Justin
We were frozen in the alleyway, staring at the phone as if we expected Jack himself to rise up out of the cement and answer it. I was rubbing my shoulder with one hand, wondering if I'd managed to dislocate it, and Josh was still holding his phone. He looked up at me, his eyes impossibly wide, huge as a matter of fact, and I realized he was graying out on me, was about to pass out in a dirty alley behind a club. I stepped over the phone and grabbed him as he slumped against me.
"Josh!" I said sharply, clutching him and trying to keep him on his feet. His head lolled against me, and we knocked over a garbage can as we collided with the wall of the club. I was a little off balance, but I kept us both from dropping to the ground. I tapped lightly at the side of his face. "Josh! Josh, stay with me here, Josh!"
He blinked, dropping his phone. It clattered to the ground, landing next to Jack's, which had finally stopped ringing.
"Josh? Are you with me?" I asked, tilting his face up. He was pale, so pale, and his skin was clammy. Could someone die from shock? I wondered if I should call an ambulance for him, but then his eyelids fluttered open. "Josh?"
Josh's sapphire blue eyes, usually so warm and sparkling with energy, were now filled with panic. He glanced at me, blinking rapidly, and then looked down at the phones. When he looked up, his eyes were watering, tears threatening to spill down his cheeks.
"Justin? Justin, oh my God, that's Jack's phone, Justin," he began babbling, his hands clutching at my shirt, bunching it up as he gripped me. "Justin, oh my God, where is he? Why is his phone here? Justin, where's my Jack?"
"Josh, calm down," I said, trying to be soothing. It was hard with my own voice shaking. "Please, just calm down."
I folded Josh against me. It was easy, since I'm a little taller than he is, to tuck his head under mine, and press him up against me. His shoulders shook as sobs racked his whole body, and I held him tightly because I couldn't think of anything else to do. I felt like someone had pulled a rug out from under me, like the sugarbowl or the salt and pepper shakers must feel when a magician does that trick where they jerk the tablecloth out from under everything and nothing falls over. I'd tried that trick when I was little, and it hadn't worked. My mom had freaked out, much like Josh was freaking out now, although this was a little more severe than some salt and pepper spilled onto the floor.
"Josh, I know it looks bad, but this will all make sense, I know it will," I said, holding him. "Josh, I know you're scared, and it's ok to be scared right now. I'm scared, too, but Josh, we can't help Jack like this. Maybe he just dropped the phone out here."
"What was he doing out here, Justin?" Josh asked, tears streaming down his face. At least my words seemed to be having some effect. "Why was he out here in the alley?"
"I don't know, Josh, I don't know," I answered honestly. "But maybe someone inside will."
I had tugged up the bottom of my shirt, and was using it to blot at Josh's eyes. He glanced down at my stomach, and then back to the ground, at the pair of telephones lying there, abandoned. Wait, why was I thinking that? They weren't abandoned, nothing so permanent. They were just dropped. That was all. I bent down to scoop them up, making sure that Josh was propped up on the wall. He seemed to be back, seemed to be able to stand on his own, but I figured better safe than sorry. Josh watched me. I knew it was just a trick of my mind, but his eyes seemed enormous somehow, filling his entire face, like those weird Precious Moments statues that Britney was always buying for her little sister.
"Are you sure we should touch that?" he asked as I tucked Jack's phone into my pocket, next to mine. "Maybe the police should see it."
"Did it sound like the police were planning to help us, Josh?" I snapped. His face crumpled, and I realized what I'd done. Rushing over, I hugged him again as fresh tears began to roll down his cheeks. "Josh, oh, Josh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that, didn't mean for it to come out like that. I guess I'm just upset, too. I didn't mean to snap at you."
"It's ok, Justin," he said finally. I felt his fingers brush over my abs as he grabbed the bottom of my shirt, blotting at his face again. "I'm just scared."
"I know," I said, putting his phone in his pants pocket. He let go of my shirt, and I looked again into his face. "Are you ready to go inside?"
"Yeah, I think so," Josh said, standing finally. "Thank you, Justin. Thank you for being here with me."
"Thanks for letting me," I said.
Josh would never have forgiven me without Jack. We needed to find him, we had to. I owed him, owed him my friends, owed him for returning me to my family. I owed him for saving Lance from me, and for saving me from myself. And I owed him for making Josh happy, for making my best friend feel complete in a way that none of us had been able to. So much had changed since Jack had come into all of our lives, and I was afraid to think of what would change if he left.
Josh and I walked around to the front of the club and knocked. The manager personally came to let us in, and led us to the first floor, where the employees idled lazily. Several of them looked at us curiously, and I knew they recognized us. I was hoping that they'd recognize Jack, too.
"Everyone who worked last night is here," the manager said, taking an empty chair. "Do you want to sit down? Or maybe something to drink?"
"No, thanks," I said, reaching into my shirt pocket for the envelopes. I pulled them out and laid them down on the table. "I want to thank you all for coming out. I know that you're all off during the day, and you guys need to, you know, sleep or work other jobs or something. I just want to say right now that even if none of you can help us, you being here means more to us than you know, and I'll leave these right here for you. It's the least we can do."
"What can we do?" a young blond girl asked. I blinked, trying to place her, and realized she was the girl who carried around a tray full of shots. She looked different in daylight, without so much makeup. Actually, she was kind of hot, but that wasn't really what I was supposed to be thinking about right then. "How can we help you?"
Josh stepped up next to me.
"You, um, you probably all know me, or know who we are," he said, smiling. "I want to second what Justin said. You guys all being here really means a lot."
"Getting paid so much extra really helps," a big guy, one of the bouncers, said, grinning. One of the other bouncers snickered along with him, and the bartender sitting next to them smacked his arm.
"It's ok," I said. "At least he's honest. Like I said, you guys all get paid whether you help us or not."
"So please, please help us if you can," Josh said, his voice shaking again. I saw all of the girls give that wincing expression of sympathy that only girls seem to have perfected, and figured getting the female sympathy vote couldn't hurt us any. Josh held up the picture of Jack, and then gave it to the guy sitting closest to him, motioning for him to pass it around. "This is a picture of my boyfriend, my husband, Jack. We can't find him, and we need your help."
I pushed Josh into a chair, and put my hand on his shoulder. He looked up at me gratefully as he collected himself.
"Last night we were here. You might remember seeing us," I said, and saw several of them nodding. "We were with Jack, too. Does anyone remember seeing him?"
Several of them nodded, and a couple raised their hands, as if unsure of how they were expected to respond to my question. I smiled, and several of them smiled back, especially the girls. Hey, at least we had their attention.
"Jack left the club sometime last night," I said. "We think it was right around one o'clock, maybe a little later. We don't know where he went, or why, and he didn't come back to the hotel last night. Josh and I are really worried about him, and we're wondering if maybe anyone saw him go, or saw him talking to anyone, or anything."
The staff all looked around at each other.
"Where was he in here the last time you saw him?" one of the bartenders from the first floor asked. "I mean, I remember grabbing him a couple beers, because he left huge tips, but I don't think I saw him after midnight."
"He told Josh he was going to the bathroom," I said. "But he didn't come back."
"We know he was in the alley outside," Josh said, looking around. He pointed. "The one on that side. We found his phone out there."
"Does he smoke?" the shot girl asked.
"No," Josh answered as I answered, "Yes."
"He only smokes sometimes," Josh clarified defensively.
"Hey, I don't mean to pry," the shot girl said, smiling. "I'm just asking because there's a door on that side, in the bathroom hallway, that goes out to the alley. A lot of people go out there to smoke, and then come back around to the front."
"Which one of you was on the door last night?" the bartender who had spoken before asked, looking at the cluster of bouncers.
"Us," one of them said, while another raised his hand.
"Well?" the shot girl asked, shrugging at them. "Do you remember him coming back in?"
"Nope," the first one answered.
"Nope, the only time he came in was with you two, when your limo dropped you off," the other bouncer answered.
"Did anyone actually see him go out the side door?" I asked. "Maybe he was with someone?"
Nobody had seen Jack leave. Considering how many people had been in the club, I was surprised they remembered as much as they had, but they probably wouldn't even have remembered that if Jack hadn't been with the two of us. After everyone racked their brains for a little while longer we decided it was kind of futile. Josh and I thanked everyone for helping, and signed a few things for people who asked. I left our number at the hotel, asking all of them to please call if they thought of anything else, or if they heard anything tonight while they were working again. As we left, the manager asked if we could please not connect the club to this if it turned out to be something serious, which he hoped it wasn't, and I told him that we understood, and promised to keep the club's name out of the papers if it came to that.
Josh was quiet on our way back to the hotel, and I was at a loss as to what else we could do. We had gone every place we could think of, had checked everywhere. As we rode across town, Josh called Carla, and carefully explained everything to her, trying not to panic her. I was amazed that he could manage to hold himself together, but realized that Carla would probably be as panicked and afraid as Josh was. She and Jack had a bond that we'd all seen when she came out to visit a few weeks ago. When he finally said goodbye, promising to call her if he heard anything, he looked at me with heartbroken eyes.
"Carla hasn't heard from him, either," Josh said quietly. "Justin, I don't know what to do."
"Me either," I admitted weakly. "I'm out of ideas, Josh. I don't know who else to call. I don't know what else we can do."
I gave the car keys to the valet, and we checked again for messages at the front desk. Once again, there were none from Jack. All of the guys had called, though, asking if we needed them to come out and to please call them as soon as we knew anything. They were all willing to drop everything to fly out here, but I didn't know how having five of us here to worry, six since Howie would doubtlessly come with Lance, would be any better than just having two. We went upstairs, to check Josh's room, but Jack hadn't been back yet, and neither one of us wanted to stay there and order room service, so we went downstairs to the restaurant.
I was worried about Josh, worried on a deep, fundamental level. Jack was his whole world, his life, his heart. I worried about Josh's stability and his sanity, worried about what would happen to him if whatever had happened to Jack turned out to be something bad, as it was starting to look like it would be. I shuddered inside thinking about Jack in trouble, but somehow it was easier to consider if I thought about it in terms of Josh, and what would happen to him. Looking across the table at him, I was struck by how fragile Josh looked, how frail. I had never seen him like this before, and wasn't sure of how to pull him out of it.
"Are the gentlemen ready to order?" the waitress asked, smiling at us.
"Can I have a diet coke, and a water for him," I said, glancing at the menu.
"No," Josh said, shaking his head. "What kind of beer do you have?"
Oh, this was a bad sign. Josh ordered a beer, and the waitress left to give us time to look over the menus.
"Josh, are you sure you want a beer?" I asked. I probably shouldn't let him drink if he was already upset. Alcohol is, after all, a depressant. I learned that much during my brief trip through the first part of high school.
"Look, Justin, I don't need a speech right now, ok?" Josh said. When he looked up at me, his face was blank, completely blank. I realized he had a public face on, because we were in the restaurant, and that it must be the only way he was keeping himself together. Maybe we should have eaten in the room after all. "Justin, I just, I want to take the edge off a little, ok? I'll only have one, maybe two. I promise, I'm not about to get drunk in a hotel lobby with you, ok?"
He sounded so defeated, so worn out, that I really couldn't argue. Josh had held my hand through enough fights with Britney, and with some of the truly scary girls I had dated before I got together with her. If he wanted to have a beer or two while he worried about his boyfriend, who was I to stop him? When the waitress came back, neither of us had looked at the menus.
"Is there a special?" I asked.
"We have several chef's selections tonight," she began, but I cut her off.
"Please just bring us each one?" I asked. She looked as if she was about to say something else. "I don't care which one. Surprise us. Pick the one you like the most, or the most expensive one, or whatever. Please? We're having a bad day."
She smiled.
"I understand, guys," she said. "Why don't I just bring you guys my favorite, ok?"
"Thanks," I said. As she started to walk away Josh looked up from his beer and added a belated thanks of his own. He stared into his glass again (only Josh would order a light beer, in a bottle, and then pour it into a glass; we needed to butch him up a little), and then looked up at me.
"Justin, what are we gonna do?" he asked quietly.
I smiled, trying my best to look reassuring.
"We're gonna do what I always do when I can't call you with my problems," I said, grinning. I squeezed his had, trying so hard to project that light-hearted, hey, everything's going to be ok attitude. I don't know how well I was doing, but Josh looked at least a little mollified. "We're gonna call Chris."
Josh smiled, and produced a weak chuckle. It was a start. I dialed Chris, who must have been actually checking the caller ID for once. I never looked at mine.
"Talk to me, Curly," Chris said.
"Is this a good time?" I asked. "Are you still in meetings?"
"Justin, it's later here, remember?" Chris explained. "What happened today?"
I outlined our whole day for Chris, explaining everywhere we had gone and everyone we had talked to. I don't think Chris had known about the police and that weird forty-eight hour rule, either, because he seemed surprised. I guess when I thought about it, it made sense, but on the other hand it was still a stupidly frustrating rule. Josh watched me intently the entire time I was talking to Chris, adding in little comments when I left out something he deemed important.
"So what do we do?" I asked finally, having come to the end of our stories for the day.
"I want you guys to stay there tonight," Chris said. "I'm going to ask Johnny to find some private investigators, and I'll see what I can do about getting out there tonight or tomorrow afternoon. It's probably going to be tomorrow. Are you ok with that?"
Josh was staring at me across the table.
"What's he saying?" Josh whispered.
"He's saying that he's going to find us a private investigator," I said, not bothering to whisper. "See, Josh, Chris'll help us. It'll be ok."
"He's sitting right across from you, isn't he?" Chris asked.
"Yeah," I answered.
"Get up and go to the bathroom," Chris said. "Tell him you'll be right back."
I stood, and Josh looked up at me.
"I have to go to the bathroom," I said woodenly. Josh nodded, not noticing. "I'll be right back."
"OK," Josh said, staring into his beer again. "Hurry."
"Yeah, ok, Josh," I said, patting him on the shoulder as I walked past. When I was out of the dining room I spotted a little couch off to the side, in an alcove, and I sat down, figuring that it was private enough. "OK, he's still in the dining room. What's up?"
"Justin, I'm telling you this because you're smart, and I think you can handle it," Chris said. "You know that something's seriously wrong, right?"
I swallowed. I hadn't wanted to admit it, had tried not to all day, but he was right.
"Yeah, yeah I do," I said, holding my forehead with one of my hands. I leaned forward, willing the room to stop spinning.
"Justin, I don't want to scare you, but I think one of you has to have your eyes open," Chris said. "I think Jack's in some deep shit, Justin, and I'm worried. I'm wrapping up things here as fast as I can, so I can get out there, but Justin, I think, um, I think we have to start maybe, you know, preparing ourselves."
"Preparing ourselves for what, Chris?" I asked, my voice sounding hollow and flat even to me. I didn't want to think it, as if me being the one to say it would somehow make it happen. If Chris said it, it wouldn't be my fault. "For what, Chris?"
"Justin, you found his phone under a dumpster," Chris said. He sounded strained. I'd heard Chris angry sometimes, but I'd never, ever heard him sound like this. Chris sounded scared, and he wasn't allowed to sound that way. He was supposed to be my rock, damn it, just like I was for Josh. None of us were allowed to have any cracks, or we'd all crumble. "We haven't heard from him in hours. You were supposed to fly out today. Justin, wherever Jack is, he's not ok. The longer it goes without us hearing from him, the worse the chances are. You're smart, Justin. You know this."
"Chris, this can't be happening," I said, walking into the bathroom. No one was there. "This can't happen, Chris, this doesn't happen to people like us! It doesn't!"
I realized that I was starting to cry, and I punched the wall in frustration, yelping as I hurt my hand. I put the phone down on the counter and ran water in the sink, splashing my face, before turning it to cold and sticking my hand under the faucet.
"Justin? Justin, damn it!" I heard Chris yelling. I picked the phone back up. "Justin!"
"Chris!" I said sharply, holding the phone away from my head a little as I kept my other hand under the faucet. I noticed that the water in the sink was a little pinkish, and realized that I had skinned one of my knuckles open. I really needed to stop hitting things, Lance, walls, whatever, when I was angry. My hands wouldn't be able to take it forever. "Chris, I'm sorry, I just needed to put the phone down for a minute."
"Justin, I didn't mean to upset you," he said. "I just think you need to be ready, in case you guys get bad news before I get there. How is Josh holding up?"
"Not well," I answered. "He's in the dining room right now with a beer, probably a second one. He's been having these crying fits all day, and when we found the phone he kind of, I don't know, almost passed out on me. I know how he felt, because I felt a little dizzy, too, but, you know, I had to take care of him."
"That's what I need you to keep doing, Justin," Chris said. I knew I needed to take care of Josh, but it helped to know that Chris trusted me to do it. "I need you to keep being there for him, ok? And then when I get out there, we'll get this all worked out. Can you do that for me, Justin?"
"Yeah," I answered, turning off the water. I flexed my hand tentatively. It didn't seem broken, but was on the same arm that I'd slammed into the dumpster. Good thing it wasn't my writing hand, because the whole thing would probably be stiff tomorrow. "I'm gonna head back to the dining room, ok? I'll call you if anything changes, and I'll leave my phone on if you want to call me."
"OK," Chris said. "Be strong, bro, and remember that I love you both. We're all going to get through this, ok?"
"OK," I said. "Bye."
When I got back to the dining room, our food had come, and Josh was picking at his, staring down at it glumly as if he'd wanted something else. It was really good, but, like breakfast, I had to more or less badger him into eating it. After dinner, we couldn't really think of anything to do, so he came to my room and we ordered a movie. I don't remember what it was, because I spent more of the movie watching Josh, trying to keep an eye on him and figure out what else I could do for him. By the time the end credits rolled, he had started yawning again, and I realized that the day had completely tired him out. We still hadn't caught up on sleep from last night, and being in such an emotional state all day must have been pretty draining for him. I sent him across the hall to his room and wished him a good night, and then stripped down to my briefs.
Checking in the bathroom mirror, I saw that my shoulder was already starting to bruise. I hadn't realized that I slammed into the dumpster quite that hard. My hand was a little swollen as well, and I looked at the huge whirlpool tub, wondering if I should take a long, hot soak in it before bed. It might help keep me from waking up so sore in the morning. I was just about to start running the water, and thinking about calling Britney since she'd left me a message earlier, when I heard a knock on my door.
"Just a second," I called, grabbing one of the hotel bathrobes. I slipped it on and opened the door to find Josh in the hallway, looking ready to cry in a black beater and boxer briefs. He smelled pretty strongly of alcohol, and I kicked myself for not thinking to clean out the minibar in his suite. "Josh?"
"Justin, I can't sleep," he said, starting to tear up. "I can't fall asleep, and I thought maybe another couple of drinks would help, but Justin, I'm so scared right now, and I can't fall asleep."
He began to sob and I pulled him against me. Back in the early days, when I had been homesick or scared, far away from everyone I knew, especially when we were in Europe, Josh had let me stay in his bed sometimes. He never told the guys about it, and always either woke me up or just carried me over to my own bed, so that the rest of the guys never knew, but he had helped me get through a lot of nights when I was lonely and scared, too.
"Josh, do you want me to come over?" I asked. He nodded against my chest. "OK. Why don't you wait here, on my couch, and I'll put some clothes on, ok?"
"OK," Josh answered. "Thank you."
"No problem," I said, remembering the way we had woken up this morning. I pushed that thought right out of my mind as I slipped out of the robe and pulled on a pair of running shorts and a beater.
I followed Josh back across the hall, and he settled in to the large bed. I settled in on the other side, wondering if I should do anything, if I should talk to him, or if it was just enough for him that I was here. The bed was large enough that we weren't touching, but then Josh slid across the mattress toward me.
"Justin, will you, could you hold onto me? Please?" Josh asked.
"Sure, Josh, sure," I answered, spooning myself against his back.
We fell asleep like that, Josh sobbing softly as he pressed himself back against me, me fighting to keep my cock down as my body responded to the feeling of a warm body pressed against it. The last thing I wanted Josh to feel was that. I didn't want him to be uncomfortable, but as he lay against me I couldn't help but notice how smooth and soft his skin was under my arms, or how his breathing pressed his firm back against my chest on every inhale. His legs were a little tangled with mine, our calves sliding over each other, the backs of his strong thighs resting on mine. If I hadn't been so tired I would have gotten up to go into the bathroom and jerk off again, but instead I just fell asleep.
I woke up in the bed alone when I heard Josh scream out in the suite room. There weren't any words, just a loud, wounded yelp, and I jumped out of the bed and ran in, to find him on his knees, sobbing, next to the table. I dropped down beside him and grabbed his shoulders, trying to clear my head and figure out what was going on.
"Josh? Josh, talk to me!" I demanded, letting a sharp tone slide into my voice to get his attention.
Sobbing incoherently, he pressed a crumpled bundle of paper into my hand. Curious, I unfolded it, and felt my stomach drop out from under me. Two items fell out of the paper, and I felt my eyes tearing as I read the typed note.
"JC - This has all been a mistake. We never should have done this, and I can't keep going any more. I'm sorry if this hurts you, but please don't try to find me. I need to go away, and put my life back together."
I looked at the floor. The two things that had fallen out of the note were the key card to this hotel room, and Jack's silver ring, his wedding ring from Josh.
The only sound in the room was Josh's racking, painful crying.
More to come soon.