Jcs Hitchhiker

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1. 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.

2. 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 been happy to hear from everyone who wrote to ask questions or say how much they liked this so far. This is my first attempt at this sort of writing, so the feedback is appreciated, and I'll keep answering all of you.

And now, back to our story in progress.

JC's Hitchhiker - Part 8

"So, Josh," I began. "I gather you haven't told your friends about me."

Josh turned, pants in hand. His eyes were wide, and he had a look of concern on his face. I had to force myself to keep looking at his eyes because he was also standing there in those clinging, enticing boxer briefs that he loved. They hugged him just tight enough to suggest nudity, and remind me of the smooth lines of his form, but covered just enough to leave a little to the imagination, and I was trying to keep my imagination under control.

"No, I haven't, Jack," he said, sighing. He sat down on the desk, and I sat next to him, allowing him to rest his head on my shoulder. "Is it a problem for you?"

"Josh, of course not," I said, draping an arm across his shoulders. I hugged him tightly to me. "I told you, do what you need to in your own time, and I'll support whatever you want to do."

"I wanted to tell them," he said, keeping his head on my shoulder. I idly stroked his hair, trying to soothe him as he twisted the cargo pants with both hands. "I kept meaning to, and there just never seemed to be a good time."

"Josh, nothing says you have to tell them," I said. "If you're not ready, you're not ready, and I'll be here until you are, unless, you know, you want me to go."

"No!" he said, turning finally and hugging me tightly. He was almost panicking, his face buried against my chest.

"Josh, calm down," I said.

"I don't want you to leave," he said. "I just don't know what to do. I feel like I'm lying to my friends, and I don't want that, but I'm scared of what they're going to say."

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid, Josh," I said. I pulled his head up. His eyes, sparkling sapphires, glistened in a pool of unshed tears. "Josh, look at me. I love you. So do your friends. Do whatever you think is best, and do whatever your heart tells you, but don't do it because you're scared of what someone else will think, not even what you think I might think. OK?"

"OK," he said.

I leaned down a little and kissed him on the forehead.

"Now, if there isn't time for me to take care of Little Josh in here, there definitely isn't time for you to have a breakdown," I said, smiling. "Let's get you dressed, and then go out with your friends and get some dinner. Everything else will happen as it happens."

"Yeah, ok, I'll get dressed," he said, jumping up.

I sat back on the desk and watched him shrug into a pair of cargo pants and a long- sleeved orange t-shirt. As he sat down to pull socks and shoes on, I thought about what had just happened. Clearly Josh was having some issues still, as much as he said he was comfortable with who he was. I didn't want to force the issue, remembering how scared I was to come out to any of my friends at first, feeling instead that my job was just to be here to support him. At the same time, though, my being with him was probably going to force the issue at some point regardless of what he wanted. Josh was walking a narrow rope, and I sincerely hoped that he'd get through without being hurt.

Transferring his wallet into his pocket, Josh turned and hugged me again, pulling me off of the desk and to my feet.

"I love you," he said, crushing me against him. "And I love having you here."

"I love you, and there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be," I said.

Leaning back, I kissed him quickly, just nipping my tongue into his mouth for barely a moment, and then I smoothed his hair back into place. It had gotten a little messy when he was grinding his head against my chest.

"Let's go get some dinner," he said, finally opening the door.

"Sure," I said, following. I wanted very badly to hold his hand, and noticed that he was wringing his hands nervously. "Josh, calm down, please."

"Sorry," he said, looking at his hands as if just now realizing what he was doing.

We walked back into the bubble, and Chris looked up from his magazine and smiled. Justin and Britney were facing each other on the couch, deeply engrossed in some game that involved alternating kissing each other's noses and babbling in baby talk to each other, but they still somehow seemed aware of our return.

"So, where are we going for dinner, kids?" Chris asked.

"I don't know," Josh answered.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"I think Jack should pick, since he's the guest," Britney said.

"Oh, you're so sweet," Justin said, kissing her nose.

"No, you're sweet," Britney said, kissing him back.

"Jack, hurry, while I can still keep food down," Chris said, looking away from them.

"I don't really know anywhere here in town," I said, shrugging. "I mean, where does one go to eat around here?"

Chris laughed, standing.

"You're in LA, Jack," he said, slapping my shoulder, buddy-style. "We can eat anything, anywhere."

"I don't know," I said, shrugging again. I searched my mind for anything I knew about Los Angeles. "How about Planet Hollywood?"

"We haven't eaten there in a while," Josh said, shrugging.

"We'll do the tourist thing, then," Chris said, smiling. "It'll be fun."

"Should we call them?" I asked. Josh and Chris looked at me blankly. "We don't have reservations."

Chris and Josh both laughed this time.

"Jack, you forget who you're with?" Chris asked.

"We don't need reservations," Josh said, his hand on my other shoulder. He squeezed, just once, and then let it drop.

"Yo, lovebirds!" Chris yelled. "Let's go."

He was yelling at Justin and Britney, who jumped up off the couch, but Josh and I glanced at each other, and Chris saw it, his mouth twisting into a little half-smile. I didn't think he saw me notice him, but I sighed inwardly, thinking again of Josh and the potential for his feelings to be hurt.

We decided to take separate cars, because Chris wanted to go to the video store after dinner, and we needed to stop at the studio when we were done eating to get my bags. Justin and Britney offered to let us ride with them, but we didn't want them to have to go out of their way. That was our excuse, anyway. Really we just wanted to be able to hold hands in Josh's Jaguar.

"Very nice automobile," I said, sliding over the leather seats. I felt as if my little Dodge was somewhat inferior by comparison.

"Thanks," he said, putting my hand over his on the gearshift. "Justin told me to buy it."

"So you did?" I asked, giggling. "I never would have taken you for a follower."

"Well, you know, he didn't really have to twist my arm," Josh said, laughing. "I mean, it's a Jag."

"So it is," I agreed.

Josh drove really well. I tried to keep track of where we were, looking at street signs, but eventually I just got caught up in the sights of a big city at night. It was even more exciting if you drove past somewhere famous every once in a while. Josh pointed things out as we went, enjoying my wide-eyed wonder. I really needed to get out more.

"So, what do you want to do while you're here?" he asked. "Is there anything you want to see?"

"Well, I already saw the Hollywood sign," I said. "I was thinking maybe we could see the La Brea tarpits, maybe do a couple of museums, or go to the Beverly Center. I really don't know, Josh."

"You flew all the way out here and all you want to do is go to the Beverly Center?" he asked, laughing.

"Well, I've seen it on TV," I said, shrugging. "I haven't really thought about anywhere I want to go, Josh. I was just thinking about coming out to see you."

I squeezed his hand, and we both sighed. I remembered what Carla said, and started giggling.

"What?" Josh asked, smiling.

I explained what Carla had said, about how we'd spend my whole trip mooning around his house, sighing and having a lot of sex, and we both laughed. I went on to tell him a couple of Carla stories, and told him a little bit about how close she and I were.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to meet her," he said. "We'll have to hang out on the next trip."

"She'd love to," I said. "Your friends are a lot of fun."

"You like them? Really?" he asked, smiling again. "I'm glad."

"Yeah, Chris is really nice, and Britney and Justin are really cute together," I said.

"Yeah, she's actually really good for him," Josh said. "He and I used to be a lot closer, but he started dating her, and then I spent a lot of time pushing everyone away after I met you."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. Did Justin resent me? Had he said something to Josh?

"Don't be," Josh said quickly. "I mean after I first met you. I told you already that I was really confused for a while. Part of that, and working it out, is that I pushed all the guys away. I think it hurt them, and they tried to talk about it a few times, but I never would."

"Is everything ok now?" I asked. I hadn't really sensed any tension.

"Oh, yeah, it's gotten a lot better," Josh said. "Especially these last two weeks. I mean, we're all close enough that they know I was going through something, and I was really depressed for a while, but I'm coming out of it now."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," I said, feeling guilty. All of this could have been avoided if I had stayed in bed that first morning, instead of just leaving the way I did. "Maybe you would have been better off if we hadn't done anything that first night. Maybe I should have left you alone."

"Jack, no, don't ever say that," Josh said. I was staring out the window, suddenly overcome with the thought of the year's worth of pain he had gone through. "Jack, look at me. Look me right in the eyes and tell me what you see there."

Turning, I stared into Josh's sapphire eyes, the cobalt discs of sea and sky that I knew so well even after that brief time. They say that the eyes are the windows of the soul, and I stared into Josh's trying to lose myself, trying to get a hint of what was there and what he might see in me with them.

"I see warmth, and friendship, and trust," I said. "I see all the same things you see when you look at me. And love."

"That's right," Josh said. "Love. And you don't see any hatred, or blame. What happened before is over. It's in the past. What's important now is that we're together. It doesn't matter how we got here. And if you do feel like you have to beat yourself up over it, don't forget to include some for me. I could have called you any time, and I didn't."

Josh moved his hand, taking mine and putting it on the gearshift. He folded his own hand over it, and squeezed. I felt the smoothness of his skin, and the strength of his grip.

"I'm sorry, Josh," I said. "I just feel bad."

"Don't," he said. "I love you. That's all that matters to me."

"Then I guess that's all that matters to me, too," I said. I looked down at our hands and smiled. "Hey, I'm practically driving the Jag."

"Just don't put us in park, and well be fine," he said.

We rode along in easy silence the rest of the way, my hand under his, feeling the car throb and surge as he shifted gears. I never learned how to drive standard, so I just let my hand be moved as he saw fit. As we approached the restaurant, he gently lifted my hand off of the knob and placed it in my lap.

"Photographers," he said simply. I nodded.

As we pulled in at the restaurant I saw Chris standing out front. There was a small crowd of people waiting to get in, but someone had already come out to join Chris as he waited for the rest of us to arrive. Josh handed the car keys to the valet, and then he and Chris waved and let people take pictures while we waited for Justin and Britney. Chris and Josh were very nice, almost as if apologizing because we were about to skip the line, and they walked up and down it shaking hands, posing for pictures with people, and signing things. I stood with the manager, and noticed a man with a large, elaborate camera apparatus snapping pictures of my two friends. I assumed that he was the only actual paparazzo there, because the other people looked pretty touristy.

When Justin and Britney arrived, Britney gave her keys to the valet, and the four of them posed for a minute or two outside the restaurant as enough flashbulbs went off to light a small town baseball diamond. I tried to stay off to the side, but Josh grabbed my arm and pulled me into the midst of them, so that I ended up standing between Josh and Chris. I found the gesture touching, yet amusing, and tried to explain it to Josh as we followed the manager inside.

"Josh, nobody wants a picture of me," I said, smiling.

"I want a picture of you," he said.

"Me, too," Chris said, smirking. "Because you're so, so dreamy."

"Shut up, jerk," I said, playfully smacking his arm. "Seriously, though, nobody knows who I am. Why would they want my picture?"

"We know who you are, because you're our friend, and that's all that's important," Britney said.

"No, you're all that's important," Justin said, pecking her on the forehead.

"Besides," Chris said, drowning out the rest of their routine. "Maybe you'll get to be in 'People' or something."

"But what'll I have to live for after that?" I asked, mock serious.

Josh, Chris, and Britney cracked up. So did Justin, after a second.

Josh explained to me that there was only that one photographer out there because celebrities tended to avoid places like this, but looking around as the manager led us to our table you could see that a lot of people were now having a very exciting dinner, just because my friends had come here to eat. The manager was nice enough to find us a table near the back, away from almost everyone, and offered to keep the tables nearest us empty, so that we could enjoy our meal in relative peace and quiet. To thank him, the guys and Britney offered to hang around for a bit after dinner and autograph anything from the gift shop that people wanted signed, and the manager enthusiastically accepted.

Dinner went well. We ordered appetizers, and managed to stretch out those, dinner, and dessert into a nice, relaxing evening, despite the busy atmosphere around us. None of us had anything to drink stronger than a soda, and they asked me a lot of questions about where I worked, where I'd gone to school, and what I did. Justin, especially, was pretty fascinated with the idea that I worked in an actual high school, and had a lot of odd, funny questions about it.

"Is it true that if you fail gym you can't graduate? Is it really? Do teachers sit around the faculty lounge and talk about everybody? Do they recycle the school lunches for the next day if people don't eat them all? And why do they taste so bad? Is teaching like on 'Boston Public', which the teachers dating students and the guns and stuff?"

I answered as many questions as I could, but I also pelted them with questions, too. I was curious about the places they'd been, and what it was like to be on a stage in front of thousands of people on a daily basis. I was curious, too, about what it had been like to work on the "Mickey Mouse Club", since I remembered watching it, and I was really just generally curious to get to know them as people. I'd heard so much about all of them, and read so many conflicting things, that it was interesting hearing what they thought of it. I was especially amused to hear from Chris that most of the statistics on those long lists of favorites and hobbies were just things their publicists made up.

After dinner, the group stayed true to their promise, and hung around the front of the restaurant signing anything anyone cared to purchase from the gift shop. I bought myself a cap, and the four of them immediately scrawled their names all over it, laughing when I put it on. While they were signing and having pictures taken, one of the waitresses offered to walk me around the restaurant and show me all of the movie memorabilia there, for which I was grateful. She explained that almost everything at their restaurant was authentic, too. At the end of the night, they left generous tips for the manager and staff, although everyone yelled at me when I took my wallet out.

"You're our guest," Britney protested.

"And you're on vacation," Josh added.

"Are you sure you don't mind?" I asked. "Because I can pay it."

"No!" all four of them said at once.

We bid everyone a good night, and Josh and I hopped back in his car, to drive over to the studio to collect my suitcase and bag.

"You know, I'm going to start to feel a little spoiled," I said.

"But I like to spoil you," Josh said, smiling.

"What was that?" I said, dropping my hand into his lap. He jumped a little. "You'd like to despoil me? I think that'll have to wait until we get home."

I gave his package a squeeze, not too hard, and then began to gently rub my hand back and forth over it. I felt his cock growing under my hand, and I began to carefully manipulate it through his pants. Josh shifted in his seat, trying to get more comfortable.

"Wow, Josh," I began, watching him squirm and try to concentrate on his driving. "Are you a stick shift, too?"

"Uh, Jack, uh," he began, fumbling for a response.

"Do you want me to take it out, Josh?" I asked, carefully tugging down his zipper. "Because I want to."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, swallowing.

"You're probably right," I sighed, sliding my fingers carefully into his pants. Reaching through the flap of his boxer briefs, I wrapped my fingers carefully around his cock, feeling the velvet hardness throbbing beneath them. "Maybe I'll just keep my hand inside here, instead. Do you like that?"

Josh's hips jerked as I began a deliberately slow handjob, rubbing and squeezing. It was kind of difficult in the confined space of his cargo pants. The car swerved a little.

"Yeah, Jack," he panted, squirming. His fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white. "Jack, I."

"Yes, Josh?" I asked softly, squeezing again, increasing the pressure and the speed.

"Jack, I'm," he began.

I leaned over, so that my mouth was right next to his ear, my hand working even faster of his smooth, hard shaft.

"Yes, Josh?" I whispered, breathing right into his ear.

The car swerved again, and Josh let out a little yelping cry as his hips jerked. I felt hot wetness spill over my fingers. He struggled visibly to keep his eyes open and on the road.

"Oh," I said, giggling.

"I tried to tell you I was close," he panted, as I pulled my hand out of his pants.

"That's ok," I said. Catlike, I cleaned my fingers. "There's a big wet spot on your pants, though."

"I'll change at the studio," he said. "That was really hot, Jack, but, um, kind of intense. Maybe we shouldn't do that while I'm driving."

"Maybe not," I agreed. "But it sure was fun."

"I love you," Josh sighed.

"I never get tired of hearing that," I said, smiling. "I love you, too."

"Good, because I never get tired of saying it," he said.

We pulled in at the studio, and Josh hastily rearranged his shirt to make sure the front of his pants was covered. We nodded at the security guard as we went through, and Josh explained to me that he was used to the band coming in at odd times to work on stuff, and that he would stay up at the front and not bother us. I followed Josh into his dressing room, where he closed the door and stripped his pants off, and I dropped to my knees in front of him.

"Let's get these dirty clothes off you," I said, jerking his boxer briefs down.

Josh leaned back against the desk as I leaned in and began to lick him clean. I swiped my tongue gently over his balls, and then lapped at his shaft. Despite the fact that he'd just cum seconds before in the car, he was hard again in seconds, and began stroking his hands through my hair as I lapped at his cock, sliding my tongue up and down the shaft and around the head, tickling under the crown. His hands on the back of my head were soft, not pushing, just running through my hair, massaging my skull. Josh sighed as I folded my lips over his head, and slid smoothly down his cock.

"Oh, Jack," he sighed, his head thrown back.

We went on like that for several minutes, me slowly sliding up and down his cock, swallowing it, working my lips and tongue over it, doing all the things I'd already learned that he liked. While I proceeded with my oral worship, varying my speed and techniques, Josh moved one hand around to caress the side of my face. I ran my hands up over his calves, feeling the dark hair there brush my fingers, and I rubbed them over his strong, firm thighs, feeling them flex as he pushed more of his cock into my throat.

I looked up, past his heaving chest straining against his shirt, to his face. His eyes were closed, his mouth open, and his tongue flicked quickly to moisten his silky, perfect lips. His face was smooth, his expression a mixture of lust and pleasure. Hisbreath was rapidly becoming thready, his moans and pants turning into the short, high-pitched whines that I knew so well. His free hand slid back around to grab my hair, almost painfully, and his eyes popped open, staring into mine as he pulled my head forward and shot down my throat.

When he was done, I pulled back, letting him slide out of my mouth and licking him clean again. Before I could say anything, he pulled me up by my head and crushed me against him, grinding his mouth into mine. I groaned around his tongue.

"That was great," he said, pulling back.

"Yeah, let's get some pants onto you," I said, smiling.

Josh quickly got dressed, and then offered to show me around the studio, since I hadn't really seen much of it with Chris earlier. Josh took my hand and led me around the hallways, pointing out the offices and archive rooms. We went past the bubble again, which was dark, and past the kitchenette. I asked Josh why they had dressing rooms here, and he explained that they sometimes had to change before recording, into clothes that wouldn't make noise if they moved. He eventually brought me around to one of the technical rooms, pointing out all of the equipment and explaining what it did.

"Want to see where I was singing today?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, following him through a large steel door in the back of the recording room as he flicked on a light switch.

One wall of the room was a dark panel of glass, which I realized was the one facing the bubble. On the opposite wall, there was another window looking into the room we had just come from, and the microphone still hung from the ceiling.

"This is all pretty cool, Josh, but it's been kind of a long day," I said, yawning. I turned and began to walk toward the door. "Maybe we should head home."

"Are you sure?" Josh asked, suddenly right behind me. I felt his hands slide up my chest from behind, before they slid down to my waist. "I can think of something else we could do."

"Josh, not here," I said, not really resisting as his hands undid my belt, and then the button and zipper on my pants. "Someone might come."

He spun me around and pressed me against the wall, jerking my pants and boxers down as he dropped to his knees in front of me.

"Somebody will cum," he said, smiling. "You!"

Josh leaned forward and swallowed me completely before I could say another word. Eyes closed, I pressed my head back against the wall while running my hands through his hair, as he had with mine. Opening my eyes, leaning my head forward to look down at him, I realized that the black window looking onto the bubble was no longer dark. There was a wedge of light from the hallway, spilling into the bubble as a black silhouette walked slowly toward the window to our room. I looked down, wanting to say something to Josh, who was blissfully unaware as he wrapped his lips around my spit-covered shaft, but I was stricken with panic, and couldn't speak. My head down, looking through my hanging bangs, I watched the shadow step closer, finally close enough for some of the light from our window to spill onto him.

It was Justin.

How's that for a cliffhanger?