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 enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.

Back to the story in progress.

Justin

Nick must have been on fire for a piece of me, because he didn't waste any time starting in on the plan. On the one hand, I guess I should have applauded his commitment, but I couldn't really seem to get excited about it. Not only did every move that brought him closer to success also bring him closer to my ass, but I was already starting to think that this plan was a horrible idea. It hadn't worked in the movie, and even if it did work, it would leave a lot of people hurt. There had to be a better way, but I couldn't think of one, and Lance wasn't going to leave Howie unless something catastrophic happened. I had to prove to Lance that Howie didn't really love him, and I had to do it fast. I couldn't let Howie keep hurting him, not when I'd already let it go on for so long.

I almost told Jack and Josh the morning I took them to breakfast. It was the morning after I convinced Nick to go along with this, before he had time to get started on it, and I could have headed the entire thing off right then, probably. All I had to do was say something, right then, and everything would have turned out differently. I woke up that morning next to Nick's prone form, feeling a little tired from fucking him three times throughout the night, after he'd eaten my ass. I'd barely slept at all, but he'd just been so turned on by the entire plan, and so hot for me, that he kept getting me hard again every time I thought I was done. If I was tired, I'd be surprised if he could walk. As I stood in the shower, letting the hot water pound down on me and wash away the sweat from my body and the lube dried in my pubic hair, I found out I was wrong.

Grinning, Nick peeled back the shower curtain and stepped inside. Like me, Nick spent a lot of time in the gym, and he had a fantastic body, although it wasn't as cut as mine. He was stockier than me, though, his muscles built on bulkier lines, and his arms a little thicker. Spending as much time naked together as we did, it was hard not to compare our bodies, and I had already noted a while ago that my dick was longer, although his was thicker. Still, as he pulled the curtain closed again without a word, the scene in the shower began to resemble something from a porno, with two tan, blond, buff guys, both half hard, sharing the tub. Nick grabbed the shower gel off of the shelf and squirted it onto my chest, handing me the bottle as his hands began to slide all over me, lathering me up.

Nick's hands massaged my chest, sliding over my pecs, as he grinned at me and I did the same to him, watching the contrast of the white suds on his tanned skin. His fingers found my nipples and began to squeeze them as I ran my fingers in circles around his chest. Nick's touch was firm and insistent, while mine was just sort of playful. I was actually trying to wash him, but as Nick's fingers slid down my abs, tracing the lines, running a little circle around my navel, I realized he was trying to get me worked up again. When his hand collided with my throbbing prick, it was obvious that what he was trying was definitely working, and he grinned, wrapping his soapy hand around my dick as I leaned back on the wall of the shower, grinning.

"Don't you ever get enough?" I asked, the first words we had said to each other this morning.

"No," Nick answered simply. He was such a whore, but as I felt his expert hands sliding up and down my shaft I realized that at least he was good at it.

"Nick, I'm kind of, you know, a little tired from last night," I said, not stopping him, but not sure if I'd even be able to cum again. Then again, I was young, and sure I'd be able to squeeze something out. His hands felt too good as he slowly slid them up and down my shaft, tugging at my balls a little, gently caressing and massaging my pink cockhead.

"I know, but I'm so thirsty," he said, dropping to his knees. I looked down at Nick, his eyes wide and so blue and his hair matted down to his head by the water dripping down his face, and watched his reddish lips drop open. His tongue flicked out and began to lap at my cockhead, running around the ridge where it met my shaft and sliding up over my slit. "So I thought I'd get started on the plan today while you guys are out getting your tux fittings done."

"OK," I panted, my hands on Nick's shoulders, squeezing his firm cannonballs. "What are you, unh, that's good, what are you gonna do?"

"Invite him over to talk," Nick said, letting me slide out of his mouth. "I worked out this whole speech while you were fucking me that second time last night about how we need to get along for JC and Jack's wedding, and how the strain is bad for our group, too. Then we'll just see where things go from there."

Only Nick would plan his day while his arms were tied to the bedposts and his legs were on someone's shoulders. He sucked my dick back into his throat, working his tongue over it, picking up speed as I urgently gripped his shoulders, staring down at him. Nick was so cocky with everyone else that it always made me even hotter to put him on his knees.

"That's, that's great," I panted. Nick pulled off again.

"The blowjob, or the plan?" Nick asked, lapping at the head again like a little kid with a big lollipop.

"Both," I said, grabbing the back of his head and jerking him forward. "Now get back on it."

After Nick finished sucking me off, he took special care to wash my ass, trying to stick his finger in before I explained that there wouldn't be any more free samples. He could look, but not touch. Sliding out of the shower, I got dressed while Nick went, naked, to go watch television and call Howie.

"That couch isn't drip dry," I called playfully, heading out the door.

"Good thing you are!" Nick yelled back.

I felt a little of my playful mood fading as I went to go get Josh and Jack. I'd left things with both of them on such strained terms the other night, and I didn't want things to be like that anymore. I didn't want to keep sinking back to the way I'd been, and that meant I needed to come clean with Josh, and tell him everything. I couldn't keep pushing him away. He was my best friend, and I needed him. Not only that, but I couldn't take the way that Josh looked at me anymore. I thought I would be ok with him being hurt, because he'd hurt me. I didn't like to hurt him, but I could deal with that look, could see that in his eyes. I couldn't deal with the way he'd looked at me the other night, though. Hurt was one thing, but when he'd looked at me then, all I'd seen was disappointment. Josh had made me feel so small, like I was nothing, and I couldn't have him look at me like that again. If Josh didn't believe in me, I didn't believe in myself.

It hurt a little when I went over there and saw them packing together, smiling at each other. It hurt a little when I saw the wedding plans all laid out, too, but I had to deal with that. I couldn't keep throwing Josh's choice back in his face, not if I really wanted him to be happy. Instead, I just had to swallow this, even if it felt like swallowing a mouthful of thumbtacks. By the time breakfast was over, and I'd said everything I needed to, I could tell that things were finally going to be ok between Josh and I again. It wouldn't be easy, but all Josh really did want to do was make sure I was happy, too. I could tell it made Jack feel a lot better, too, even if he didn't say so. Jack and I understood each other, and we shared the common goal of Josh's happiness. I had told Jack when he was in the hospital that I didn't want to be his enemy, but I hadn't really followed through on my promise to be his friend, and I needed to work on that, too. I really had been an asshole since Jack came back, even if no one else wanted to come right out and say it.

The entire morning I had been thinking about Jack, and the other bond that we shared. Last time Lance had been hurt, only Jack had known, and had to figure it out himself. Now, only I knew, and had the same problem. Jack had come right to me, but I couldn't go right to Howie. Howie wouldn't stop just because I told him to. If anything, it might make him more angry, and he might do something else to Lance, something worse. I'd been thinking back to all those movies I watched when we were on tour and I couldn't sleep, and remembered that sometimes they broke bones, or burned them with cigarettes, or beat them with hangers or something. I didn't want that to happen to Lance. I thought a lot about telling Jack, and asking for his help, because I knew he would be able to keep it discreet, and not drag everyone in where Lance didn't want everyone to go, but then I thought about the shape Jack was in right now, too. He kept pretending that he was back to normal, and everything was fine, but around the edges you could see the strain peeking through. When he asked, I still almost told him, but at the last second I thought about how stressed he was already, with the wedding, and the trip to his parents, and his recovery, and I didn't want to add this in. I decided to wait until they got back, and see how things had gone, before saying anything else.

Our tuxedo fitting went sort of well, in that nobody directly fought with each other. Lance stayed as far from me as possible, and Joey kind of huddled near him, tossing me dirty looks every once in a while. He was still pissed about the bathroom thing. I realize now that fucking Nick in the bathroom was kind of stupid, a spur of the moment lust sort of thing, but it really pissed me off getting yelled at by everyone at once. Maybe I didn't handle it so maturely, but for starters I had more than a few beers in me, and everyone didn't have to treat me like I was a little kid. Chris didn't seem mad at me, but he didn't really talk to me, either. He just watched while the tailors pinned and marked us, and that Lisann woman asked me questions I didn't know the answers to.

"When is Carla, the maid of honor, flying in?" Lisann asked me, as I stood before the mirror with my arms out.

"I'm not really sure," I answered, looking around. Lance ignored me, reading a magazine in the corner as he waited in his tux to be appraised. Chris was in the changing room, getting his on, and Joey raised an eyebrow at me from his chair next to Lance.

"Justin, I need to schedule her an appointment," Lisann said, shaking her head. She was a nice lady, but so tense. "Jack and Joshua were very clear that you were going to handle these things in their absence. You are, after all, the best man."

"Not a very good one," Joey muttered, and Lance looked away.

"Excuse me?" I asked, turning around. Lisann waited patiently, seeming not to notice the trouble brewing.

"You heard me," Joey said, staring at me. He wasn't quite angry, but it was definitely a scowl. "You haven't done shit for this wedding, unless aggravating the grooms counts."

"Look, what is your problem, man?" I snapped, pissed. I knew I hadn't done anything, but what right did he have to bring it up. "Josh and Jack left me in charge, and I'm just trying to do the stuff Jack left on his list."

"I'm surprised they want you to do anything," Joey sneered. "Hey, Lisann, you wanna see the biggest obstacle to the happy marriage? He's right there in front of the mirror."

"Knock it off," Chris said, stepping out of the changing room before I could say anything. It was just as well. I was pissed, but I also felt my eyes stinging. "Whatever goes on between Jack, JC, and Justin stays between them, because it's personal. All we need to know is that right now Justin is in charge. Lisann, Carla flies in three days before the wedding, in the afternoon."

"Thank you," Lisann said, writing it down with a gold golf pencil. "When does Tyler fly in?"

"Same day, roughly the same time," Chris answered. I nodded to him as Joey sat in his chair, fuming but cowed for now. Tyler, Josh's brother, was coming in as a groomsman because we were uneven, and Jack and Josh both were having mini-hissies about the altar looking asymmetrical. Heather, Josh's sister, had already said something graceful to keep them from thinking they needed to put her in, too, because she would just unbalance everything again.

"Why don't we put them down for the morning after they arrive, then?" Lisann suggested. "There isn't anything else on the schedule for that time."

"Sure," I answered, remembering that I was supposed to be in charge.

The tailor motioned for me to get down, and waved Lance over. Lance moved across the room slowly, giving me a wide berth, and I tried to stay as far from him as possible without it being obvious. I think Joey caught some of it, because he looked back and forth between us with a thoughtful scowl on his face. I set mine carefully. If he wanted to know what was going on, he could ask Lance. Chris, picking a string off of his sleeve, missed the entire thing, but I took his arm and led him aside. He carefully removed his arm from my hand.

"Yes, Justin?" he asked. I had thought that after what Chris just said that he would be nicer to me, but his tone was a little cold, and he was looking at me warily, like you look at a dog that might bite.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for what you said to Joey," I began quietly. Chris cut me off.

"I didn't say it for you, Justin," he said, setting his shoulders back. "I happen to agree with Joey on this one. When Jack came back, you told me you wanted JC to be happy, but you haven't been acting like it. I've made excuses for you, Justin, and I've tried to be understanding, but I'm tired of reaching a hand out to you and having it slapped away. What you did the other night was stupid, Justin, and the way you acted afterward was even worse. I thought you changed, and I don't like being proven wrong. JC and Jack left you in charge, so I'll support that, but that's all."

"I guess, I guess I understand," I said, turning away so he wouldn't see the tears standing in my eyes. I thought Chris was on my side, but I'd even driven him away, and now I couldn't turn to him to help with Lance, either. "I need to go take this off."

"Don't pull the pins out!" the tailor called as I hurried into the changing room.

After everyone was measured and pinned we dismissed the rest of the guys, and Lisann and I went over a few minor things that Jack had left for me to do. I kept careful notes of everything I authorized, so that Jack would be able to jump right back into this when the two of them got back. I wanted to call them, just to hear Josh's voice, but I realized that would be intruding on their trip, and they probably needed the time alone away from all of us. Honestly, Lisann could have made all of these decisions without me, she had everything so well under control, but she needed an official word, and that was me. She thanked me, gave me a stack of reply cards, neatly bound with ribbon, for Jack to enter into his records, and confirmed the menu confirmation in the ballroom for the day after tomorrow. We would be doing it in the morning, in place of breakfast, and after we finished that, Lisann thanked me, and headed off, chatting away on her cell phone with the florist.

When I got back to the bungalow I checked the window, and saw Howie sitting on the couch and Nick sitting across from him in one of the chairs, sprawled in it. Howie was looking kind of casual in shorts and a t-shirt, and Nick had dressed the part for his role in this, wearing only a pair of loose white cotton athletic shorts. I was willing to bet he had nothing on under them, and noticed as well that they were cut high enough that Howie had to have gotten a few peeks at the equipment each time Nick shifted. The waist dipped rather low as well, leaving Nick more or less naked with all of the tanned muscular perfection of his body on display. I hated to say it, because Lance was my friend, but on a purely physical level there was no competition between the two of them. Lance was a pale, fragile picture of shame, and Nick exuded the promise of sex, the kind of sex that you knew would be hot and dirty and really good. I saw them stand, reaching out to shake hands, and cursed Nick for not leaving the window open as I ran to the bushes across from the door, hiding behind a tree like a criminal. The door opened, and Howie stood in the doorframe, Nick right next to him, practically nude, right up in his space.

"I'm glad we, you know, worked some of this out," Howie said uncertainly, his face just inches from Nick's golden chest.

"Me, too," Nick purred. He dropped his index finger to Howie's chest, both of them watching it. Nick ran it up and down the crease between Howie's pecs for a second, and then trailed it softly over to draw a lazy circle around his nipple, which stiffened visibly under the fabric. "I so want us to be friends, Howie. Close friends."

"I, I do, too," Howie said, swallowing, as they both stared at Nick's dancing finger. Howie's mouth hung open, and Nick brought the finger up, lifting the point of Howie's chin with it so that they were looking into each other's eyes.

"You know," Nick began softly. "Justin has plans tonight, and I'll be here all alone. If you want to keep having this talk, come on over. I'll show you what kind of a friend I can be."

"I, uh, I," Howie stuttered, staring into Nick's eyes as Nick's tongue slipped out, coyly, to wet his bottom lip. Howie blinked. "I have to go. Lance will be home soon. Good bye, Nick."

"Bye, Howie," Nick said, lifting his arm to lean on the doorway. With his free hand he idly scratched his stomach, drawing attention to his abs. Howie looked back, once, and hurried down the sidewalk as if running from a fire. I stepped out from behind the tree. "Hey there."

"Hi," I said, walking quickly into the bungalow, not touching him. I felt vaguely dirty as I went to the refrigerator for a drink of water. "Looks like things went well."

"That was almost too easy," Nick said, grinning. "I always knew he was fucking hot for me. I caught him looking at me all the time, even before he told us he was gay, and I never stopped him. You know how it is, Justin. If someone wants you, there's no harm in stringing them along. Besides, this is kind of fun. I'll get to fuck Howie blind, and then I'll get you. Everybody wins."

Yeah, everybody but Lance.

"Do me a favor?" Nick asked, smirking at me.

"Yeah?" I asked, wondering what it would be.

"Have plans tonight," Nick answered. I nodded, and he stepped out of the shorts, standing naked in front of me, half hard. "I'm gonna go get dressed, and then I thought maybe we could lay out by the pool, and then have dinner. Unless you have other plans?"

"No, that's a great idea," I said, faking enthusiasm and looking away as he ambled into the bedroom, his ass shaking. I knew he wanted, even expected, me to follow him in there and ravage him, but at that moment I didn't want anything to do with him. I felt disgusted with Nick, and with myself.

Nick and I went down to the pool, lounging around. He ordered a few drinks, and I ordered a couple of diet sodas. So far Nick hadn't commented on my sudden abstention from alcohol, but I was sure he'd noticed. After all, it was the kind of thing that I would notice. We watched the other guests at the resort go by, knowing that when they checked out at the end of this weekend no one would be checking in. Josh and Jack, although really it was just Josh, had rented out every suite, every room, for the wedding guests and the wedding staff. Typically one or both of us would be trolling for company, lining up someone or a few people for later, but tonight I wasn't in the mood and Nick was saving himself for Howie. As it began to get dark, we headed in to the dining room for dinner.

"So, what are you going to do tonight?" Nick asked, stirring his cocktail while we waited for our dinner to come.

"I dunno," I answered, shrugging. "I have some mail to go through, some stuff from my agent."

"Cool," Nick said, grinning. "I know what I'm going to do tonight. Howie."

I felt a little sick to my stomach hearing him say it like that, using that tone. I knew that Nick wouldn't mind this part of the plan, knew that he'd be completely ok with the trouble it would cause, but I didn't expect him to enjoy it so much.

"How can you say it like that?" I asked, staring at him. Nick glanced up at me, his eyebrows raised quizzically. "You know that this is going to hurt Lance."

"So do you," Nick said, shrugging. "And you're the one who put me up to it. I wouldn't be doing this if not for you."

"Oh, so this is all my fault?" I asked.

"Don't get defensive," Nick said. "It doesn't suit you. And yes, Justin, this is all your fault. This is your plan."

He looked so smug sitting across from me, knowing that he was right, and I wanted to slap him suddenly. Even as I thought it, though, I thought of Howie slapping Lance, and I felt sick inside again. Was this what had happened to the two of them? Had they been arguing, and Howie just wanted to slap him? If he did it once, did he find it easier the next time? I vowed that I would never go down that road, that I would never lash out at someone in anger again. I was sorry, suddenly, for that long ago day when we had first met Jack, when he had only been officially with Josh for a few weeks, and I had punched Lance in the nose. I had never apologized for doing that, and no one had ever expected me to, because we all thought, at the time, that Lance deserved it. He hadn't deserved what I did to him after that, but I'd apologized for that over and over. Now, though, I just found myself thinking of that sunny afternoon, and how we'd all forgotten it in light of everything that had come after. Was it possible that everything that had happened since then could be traced back to that one punch, thrown in anger, that I thought was justified?

"Hey!" Nick said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. "Hey, earth to Justin. What is wrong with you?"

"I was just thinking," I said, shaking my head. "I know that this is my plan, and my idea, but, Jesus, Nick, do you have to sound so excited about it? Don't you feel bad at all?"

"No," Nick answered, shaking his head. I saw his mouth twist down in anger, real anger, maybe for the first time I'd ever seen it. "I told you, Justin, I don't feel bad about stuff like that, and I don't let other people make me feel bad about it, either. Besides, it's a two way street. Howie can say no, so whatever he does is his fault, not mine."

I stared at him. What had I ever seen in Nick, really? Had there ever been anything besides a pretty face and a hot body?

"Besides," Nick continued, smiling at the waitress as she set our plates down. "I kind of do have to be excited, Justin. I mean, after all, I am trying to get Howie to go for me, and depression just isn't attractive. If it was, you'd have landed JC a while ago."

I stared at Nick, unable to believe he'd actually said that. He knew how I felt about Josh, and knew how much it hurt me not to have him. Watching him nonchalantly dig into his dinner, cutting up his big, bloody hunk of steak, I convinced myself that Nick wasn't really saying it to be mean. He was just upset, just unsettled about what I had said about feeling bad. That was all. Nick was my friend, and he would never say anything to deliberately hurt me. He might not care about other people, not really, but Nick cared about me. Friends didn't hurt each other. I decided to ignore his comment and go back to my dinner, but the two of us didn't really talk for the rest of the meal. When it was over, Nick walked with me out to the patio by the pool.

"I'm gonna go back and get ready now, ok?" he said, grinning. "Do you have your phone?"

"Yeah," I said, shrugging.

"Good," Nick said, patting my shoulder. "I don't want you spoiling the mood, so I'll call you when it's safe to come back to the bungalow, ok?"

"Sure," I said, wondering again why I hadn't been able to think of a better plan. Maybe it wasn't too late to go tell the guys. They might not believe me at first, but they'd come around. We could go to Lance together, and all talk to him, and if he would just pull up his shirt he could show the guys the bruises. "You know, Nick, maybe we don't have to do this. Maybe there's another way to break them up."

Nick smiled at me.

"Justin, you don't really want me to stop," he said. "And besides, I don't really want to. I want to see just how tight Howie really is."

Nick walked away, and I sat down and began going through my paperwork, taking it out of my bag and reading it over the by light of the table lamp. Even though I tried to lose myself in it, I was aware of the time passing, and found it more and more difficult to think about this stuff and not to think about what was going on at my cabin. At one point I looked up and saw Chris and Vlada over at the bar. I nodded at them, and Chris looked away, his mouth tight, but Vlada raised her hand in a wave. I waved back, and went back to my letters and contracts, wishing again that I knew how to make up for my behavior with my friends. I thought, once again, that helping Lance was the way to help me, too. If I saved him, everyone would forgive me. Everyone would finally forget what I'd done, and I could start forgetting it, too.

Giving up, I pushed everything back into my bag, and sadly left the patio. I didn't look back to see if Chris and Vlada were still there, or if they were watching me leave. I had to know if the plan was working. I had to see if Nick really was as good as he said he was, and I found half of me perversely wishing that Howie would reject him. Sure, Nick would be pissed, and I would have to think of something else, but at least we wouldn't be doing this. Hidden in the shadows, I peered into the living room, noticing that Nick had left the blinds open. He'd probably done it on purpose. After all, I'd told him that they needed to get caught, so why bother closing the curtains?

Howie's chair was facing me, and his arms were flung out, his fingers digging into the sides. His shirt was open, all of the buttons undone and the halves thrown open, and his pants were bunched up down around his ankles. Sweat ran down his chest, darkening the patch of black hair between his well-developed, heaving pecs, and his dark brown nipples were standing up, waiting to be chewed on. Howie's eyes were closed, his head thrown back, and his mouth was hanging open. In front of him, Nick knelt on the floor between Howie's spread legs, one of his hands caressing up and down Howie's strong calf. Nick's head bobbed rapidly in Howie's lap, and I could see Nick's clothes scattered around him on the floor. His other hand was out of sight somewhere below his head, vanishing between Howie's shaking legs, and I realized that I knew what Nick was doing as I watched his upper arm flex. His fingers were working at Howie's ass, and after Howie came, Nick would go right into fucking him.

I turned away from the window and began to walk, not paying attention to where I was going, just wanting to walk away, and not have to witness any more of what was going on in my bungalow. Hey, at least the plan was working. I sat on the beach, up above the tide line, watching the waves crash in front of me, looking at the stars and the moon. Finally my phone beeped, and I saw a text message from Nick.

"Lassie Come Home."

Oh, he was clever. I walked back up to the cottage, and heard the shower running as I stepped inside. The main room had a thick smell of sweat and sex, and I opened the windows before stripping down to my briefs. I ducked into the bathroom as quietly as possible to brush my teeth, and then crawled into bed, curling up and pulling the sheet over me. Nick climbed in soon, and I could tell without looking that he was naked. He touched my shoulder.

"Hey, Justin, you were right," Nick whispered. "Howie was fucking tight, just the way I like it. Just the way that you're going to be."

"Great," I said. "I'm happy for you."

Nick chuckled, running his fingers up and down my spine. I pulled away from him, and heard him laugh softly again.

"Don't be like that, Justin," Nick said. "Lance'll get over it, and if he doesn't, well, maybe the two of us can help him get over Howie. I bet Lance would love being on the bottom, huh? I bet he'd like being in between the two of us, you in one end and me in the other, and then when we finished up we could switch."

I promised myself that I would never let Nick get anywhere near Lance.

"Nick, I'm tired," I sighed. "And I have a headache. I'm glad you had a good time with Howie, but please, let's just go to sleep, ok?"

"OK," Nick said, rolling away from me. "Just remember, Justin, I'm only doing this for you."

If you didn't know him, you might think Nick meant that he was doing a favor for a friend, that he was doing this to help me, but I knew better. When Nick said he was doing this for me, he meant it literally. Nick was already counting the minutes until he got to fuck me, and as I lay in the bed next to him, listening to him sigh contentedly before he settled in to sleep, I realized that I was completely repulsed by him. Nick was utterly without morals, or guilt, or any of the other things that made us human, and I didn't want him anywhere near me.

To be continued.