Rebound

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.

That said, we now continue.

Even though we came in on a private plane, landing at a tiny gate on the far end of the airport, we still had to go through the main doors to get out, just like everyone else, and I tried to suppress a grin as Justin and Chris suited up, more or less. Justin had pulled up a hood, covering his hair, and was pulling on a pair of huge sunglasses, as if we weren't inside a building. Chris put on a hat, and was now sporting a blue lensed pair of insectlike wraparounds. Their disguises, if anything, almost made them more conspicuous, especially since it was too warm for both of them to be in long sleeves and hoods, and it wasn't nearly bright enough inside to need shades. That wasn't the only problem though, and both of them looked at me when I snickered as we met a second hulking bodyguard at the gate.

"What?" Justin asked, looking down. "Is my fly open?"

"No, it's just, well, do you guys really need that?" I asked, my hands gesturing at my own head in a vague way.

"What the hell would you know about it?" Chris snapped. I was beginning to wonder if he had anything to say that wasn't dripping with sneering disdain. "Maybe you'd want everyone to know who you were if you were us, but sometimes I like to just get to my car without getting mobbed."

I rolled my eyes. Chris still hadn't given up on the sleazy gold digger angle. Justin frowned, shooting Chris a sternly hostile glare.

"Actually, I was just wondering what the point was," I said icily. "If you're going to wear a disguise to keep people from noticing you, walking through the airport flanked by two giant black guys who look like extras from 'Shaft' kind of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"He's got a point," Justin said, snickering. His grin was big and genuine, the face that launched a thousand fansites. He tagged me on the shoulder, a friendly, buddy tap, and pointed the way for me. I felt oddly let down that he didn't take my hand, but Justin caught it, and his pursed lips let me know he was thinking the same thing.

"Shut up," Chris grumbled, stalking away. It just made me snicker harder, especially when we passed him and he had to hurry to keep in line with us with his short little legs. Maybe I should stop yelling at Justin for needling Chris, since he almost forced us to do it. The bodyguards fell into step on either side of us, and I wondered if they were charged with guarding me, too. Was I an official friend of the band? A "band aid", as I'd heard them called?

I wanted to ask Justin about it, to find out what my official status was, but there was apparently no time at all to even think about it. The five of us went breezing through the front of the airport to the curb, where a car was waiting, and most people didn't even give the group a second glance. I guess people from Florida were probably a little jaded, used to seeing such things, and the tourists probably expected their celebrities to be bigger, and more glamorous. I know I never would have guessed that someone of Justin's status would wander around in regular clothes that weren't all that different from mine, but the past week had taught me that, more or less, Justin was at heart a pretty normal guy who lived in a completely surreal and abnormal world. In the car, another stretch job, both guards got in the front, one of them driving, and Justin pulled me against him in the back, pointing things out as we drove. Chris alternated between disinterested, pointedly ignoring us, and disgusted, making little noises and curling his lip back.

"Where are we going?" I asked. Would I be sitting in some waiting room somewhere, spinning my wheels in some record company reception area?

"My house," Chris answered. "It's the closest one to the airport. The guys should all be there already waiting for us."

Great. Perfect. I wanted to shoot myself now, to get it over with. Justin was doing his best to look completely at ease, but I could see the cracks just under the surface. It was there in the way he held my hand a little tighter when Chris mentioned the others, in the way I felt his arm shaking a little, and in the slightest tremor in his voice when he pointed out that we would be there in a few minutes. His nervousness was feeding mine, all the more so because I didn't know what I was walking into. When I'd met Matt's friends, all the way back at the beginning of our relationship, they'd been curious but friendly, eager to learn about the guy who was making him happy. Justin's friends, at least from what he'd told me and from what Chris had shown, wouldn't be the same way. They would see me as a threat, and as competition for one of their other friends. I didn't want to be an interloper, or unwelcome, but that was apparently the role in which I'd been cast.

I noticed that the houses all looked very expensive as we pulled in, but didn't really have time to think much more than that as Justin and Chris got their bags together and started to climb out. At the same time, I saw a pair of guys, faces made familiar by magazines even if they did all look a little different in person, coming out the front door. Lance and Joey were smiling, Joey's grin wider than Lance's, and they both patted Chris on the shoulder as Justin turned to help me out of the car. I hadn't figured out yet how to gracefully climb out of a limo, although Justin told me later that it was a skill it took some people years to master. They were loudly welcoming Chris back and asking him about his flight, Lance's voice deeper then I ever would have guessed it would be, but they all jerked to a stop as Justin pulled me by the hand out of the car. I smiled tentatively, noticing the curious look on Lance's face, the uncertain smile on Joey's, and the smirk on Chris's. Chris hadn't told any of them Justin was bringing me, the bastard.

"Guys, this is, um, this is my boyfriend," Justin said, squeezing my hand as he tugged me closer to him. "Chris Vanderhall, this is Joey Fatone and Lance Bass."

"Your what?" Lance asked, blinking at Justin as if he hadn't heard him correctly. Joey held out his hand to me, still smiling, although he also looked a little unsettled.

"It's nice to meet you," Joey said, gripping my hand tightly. At least someone was welcoming, or pretending to be. He let go of my hand and patted Justin's shoulder. "And, uh, congratulations. I guess we've missed a couple things. When did this happen?"

"Chris and I just met," Justin said, still smiling, as he held me to his side. Why did I suddenly feel like a large fashion accessory? "But I love him a lot, and he makes me happy."

"He's Justin's knight in shining armor," Chris muttered, starting up the driveway. "Rides him just like a horse."

"Fuck you!" Justin yelped, starting toward him, and I tightened my grip on his arm. He turned to me and I shook my head. Joey watched, interested, but Lance was making a disgusted face, looking back and forth between our linked hands and Chris's back, and then he started to follow Chris up the driveway.

"Let him go," I said, shrugging. "He's just trying to get a rise out of you."

"And you'll get plenty of that from your fuckboy later," Chris tossed back.

Now I wanted to hit him, too, and Justin tensed beside me. I thought it was because he was still getting pissed, but then realized it was because of JC, who had walked out of the doorway and stood in the sunlight, watching us all from behind a pair of tiny oval glasses. I was so completely screwed if this really was my competition. He was, if possible, better looking in person, and I wondered how there could actually be bad pictures of someone who looked like this. What the hell could Justin see in me that he couldn't get from someone who looked like this? Chris and Lance paused, waiting, as JC walked down the driveway toward us, pushing back his mop of brown and gold hair with one hand. Justin sucked in a breath, waiting, and Joey bit his bottom lip, his eyes ticking back and forth between us.

"Welcome back," JC said, looking at Justin. Justin nodded, swallowing, and muttered a soft, "Thanks," as JC turned to me, holding out his hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."

"Chris," I answered, feeling something catch in my throat. This was not at all the scene I thought we'd be having. Justin was rigid next to me, not breathing, and I wondered what he thought was going to happen. "Chris Vanderhall."

"JC Chasez. It's nice to meet you," he said smoothly. Damn it, he had class, too. I reminded myself that he had also cheated on Justin, that he'd broken his heart, but it didn't seem like the guy shaking my hand right now, his face neutral and detached, could ever have done something like that. He turned to Joey. "Are we still having a meeting?"

"Yeah, I think so," Joey answered, looking around. I guess this wasn't the scene he was expecting, either. Why weren't these guys all jumping on Justin and yelling at him like he'd told me they would?

"Could we hurry, please?" JC asked, turning and walking back up the driveway. "I don't really want to be here."

None of us said anything as he walked back into the house, and Justin let out a long, low sigh next to me. I looked at him, trying to catch his eyes to see if he was ok, but he was watching JC's back, or maybe his ass. Once JC was inside, Justin glanced at me, but glanced away quickly when he realized that I'd seen him. Joey took one of Justin's suitcases as I gabbed mine and Justin picked up the other, and our movement seemed to spark Chris and Lance. They turned and started walking toward the house as the limousine pulled away behind us, taking the bodyguards with it.

"That's it?" Chris asked Lance in a low voice. If the rest of us hadn't been so quiet we wouldn't have heard it. "I'd have thought JC would be a little more concerned about other people plowing Justin's ass."

"Do you have to be so vulgar?" Lance asked, shaking his head as they walked into the house. "I'm going to check on JC."

"So, uh, Chris, what do you do?" Joey asked. Justin watched him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure him out.

"I own a bookstore," I answered, the three of us walking up to the front door. "In Boston. It's kind of a coffeeshop, too."

"Cool," Joey said, shrugging.

"Chris didn't tell you guys anything, did he?" Justin asked as we walked inside. Chris had a nice house, but I wasn't sure where we were supposed to go or what we should be doing as we stood in the foyer with our bags.

"Not really," Joey answered. "Neither did your mom the twenty times she called to ask if I knew where you were or if I'd heard from you. He did say that you hurt your hand, though. Are you ok?"

"I had an accident," Justin said, holding his hand out. Joey looked at it carefully. Most of the redness had gone out of it, but the black stitches still looked painful. "I'm supposed to go get it looked at in a couple days."

"They might be able to take the stitches out then," I added. Both of them glanced at me, but none of us seemed to know what to follow that with. I was doubtlessly impressing Joey with my mastery of conversation.

"Let's go," Chris said sharply, coming down the hallway. "JC and Lance are waiting out on the patio. You can wait over there in the living room. Don't steal anything."

"Chris," Justin said, his voice rising again. Why did he keep letting Chris push his buttons, knowing that it was exactly what Chris wanted? I cut him off.

"I wouldn't want anything this cheap," I said dismissively, looking around. Joey put a hand on Chris's shoulder and steered him back down the hall before he could come up with something else to say, and Justin turned to me.

"I don't think we'll be long," he said apologetically. "Are you ok?"

"Don't worry about me," I said, my hands on his shoulders. "Will you be ok? You can handle this, Justin. You can handle them."

"I know I can," he answered. He leaned forward and kissed me. "Because you're here. This'll all be ok, right?"

"Yeah, Justin," I answered. I kissed him again, longer this time, not the little peck he'd just given me, and ran my tongue over his bottom lip. "Everything will be fine, and I'll wait right here for you."

Justin followed them down the hallway, looking back a couple of times as if to reassure himself that I was here, and that I was staying. I tried to read his eyes, but he had a way of making them flat, of closing them off, and he was doing it now. I knew that something was bothering him, something was hurting him, but was it something I did? Or was it just the idea of being back here, and being with his friends? Did he really think they were going to do something to come between he and I? It seemed likely, considering the way that Chris had been acting all along, doing his best to stir up trouble between us. Every time he failed, he blurted something else out, and now, running out of tactics, it appeared that he was just going to settle for flat out hostility.

I wasn't sure how to read the rest of them, though. Joey seemed curious about me, and what was going on. I wasn't sure if he was friendly, but he seemed to be. Even if he wasn't a friend, I didn't think we could count him as an enemy. Lance was harder to read, though. The whole thing seemed to make him really uncomfortable, but it was hard to say just what. Was he uncomfortable because he was worried about the band and his own career? Because his friends were fighting? He'd seemed kind of offended by Chris's language. Maybe that was what was bothering him? I didn't think it could be the whole gay thing, even though I'd read somewhere that Lance was the religious one, because he'd had Justin and JC being gay in front of him for years.

And then there was JC. What was I supposed to think about him? As far as I could see, so far he seemed perfect. He'd even been polite to me, respectful and kind of classy. Hell, Chris seemed more upset that Justin was dating me than JC did. I knew that he had cheated on Justin, more than once, but I was getting the feeling that there was more to the story. I couldn't really ask about it, though, being the new boyfriend and all, and he had seemed a little hurt when he said that he didn't want to be here. And what about Justin's response to him? It was hard to characterize the way Justin had looked at him as he walked away, hard to say if it was angry, bitter, sad, or maybe remorseful. The fact that Justin looked away when he saw me looking, though, that he wouldn't meet my eyes for a second, answered my question in a way that I didn't really want to think about. Did Justin still have feelings for him? How could he not?

I felt like I was in very much over my head here, treading unfamiliar waters. Justin was my only lifeline, but maybe I couldn't trust him, either. Wait, Justin wouldn't hurt me, not on purpose. I was letting Chris get to me even after I'd promised myself not to. Justin needed me to be here for him, to support him and love him and help him feel like his own person, and as I'd realized over the past few days, I needed him. I needed Justin in ways that were hard to admit and hard to articulate, but none of them mattered past the simple fact that I needed him as much as he needed me. We had to be here for each other, like we'd promised we would, and I wouldn't let any of these guys stand in my way.

I spent a while flipping through my book, trying to read it, but found it hard to concentrate. I read the same page six times, not realizing it, and then gave up and just walked around the living room a little. There were pictures of people I didn't know on the walls, who I assumed were Chris's family, but I was also interested to see a few group shots. They were candid pictures, not the posed ones I saw in magazines, and Justin looked very young in a lot of them. There was a really cute one taken on a bus somewhere, with Justin and JC both asleep and leaning against each other, and I felt a little pang go through me as I looked at it. This was what I was competing with. History. Years of things and bonding and in jokes and anecdotes that I hadn't been around for.

I realized that I needed to pee, and Chris, able and helpful host that he'd been, hadn't bothered to point me toward the bathroom. I decided to go find it myself, looking around at the house as I went. He would probably find some way to make a crack about this too, calling me a snoop or something, but I was willing to bet that he'd rather that I went and found a toilet than that I went in the middle of the living room floor. I heard a door somewhere off to my left, and figured that was a good place to start. Maybe I'd find the guys, or a maid or girlfriend or someone who could tell me where I could relieve myself. As I walked down the hall I heard voices, too, so I followed them into the kitchen. It was large and well done, probably expensive, and I saw the guys out back on the patio. There was a sliding glass door half opened, and I could hear them through it. Justin was standing, facing Chris. Lance was sitting on a lounge chair, frowning, and Joey stood behind him, also frowning.

"I told you, it's my life," Justin said. No one had noticed me, so I stayed where I was.

"I can't believe you're disrespecting JC like this!" Chris blurted, angry. "I can't believe you'd just bring your fucking."

"Chris," Lance sighed, shaking his head.

"Stop fucking telling me to watch my fucking language!" Chris snapped at him, and Lance shook his head.

"Why are you such a dick all the time?" Justin asked, his voice raised. "Why do you always have to be such an asshole?"

"I'm trying to open your fucking eyes!" Chris answered. Lance sighed again, and Chris turned back to him. "What?"

"Do you have to scream and curse so much?" Lance asked. "I mean, it's bad enough that Justin wants to bring another one of them around without you making it worse."

One of them? This got better and better.

"You son of a," Justin began, and Joey stepped between him and Lance.

"Lance, that's not cool," Joey said, shaking his head. "Justin and JC are your friends, no matter how you feel about what they're doing. Apologize to him, now, before JC comes back and hears you."

"JC knows how I feel," Lance said. "Hearing it won't make any difference. They're going to hell, and they both know it, and I don't think Justin needs to make it worse for us by bringing more of these people around."

"We're not 'these people'," Justin said, shaking his head. His face was red, and I could tell Lance was starting to get to him, too. "Damn it, Lance."

Joey stopped him again. Even if he was trying to help, I didn't really like the way he kept silencing Justin.

"Lance, if JC hears it, he won't say anything, but it'll hurt him, the same way it's hurting Justin," Joey said. "If they're your friends, you respect them, and save your thoughts for some time when they won't hear."

Everyone was quiet for a minute, glaring at each other, and Lance finally shook his head.

"I won't talk about it again," he said, looking down. That wasn't quite an apology, but I was willing to let it go for now, and apparently Justin was as well. "And I'll be polite to your 'friend', as long as he's here, but that's it."

"That's all I'm asking," Justin said, glaring at him. "Just let me live my life and stay out of my business."

"Your business is our business!" Chris said, jumping back in. "We can't stay out of your business when you throw it in everyone's face, and when it affects the rest of us."

"It doesn't affect the rest of us," Joey said, shaking his head. "Whatever's going on between Justin, JC, and the other Chris is their business. We should stay out of it."

"What?" Chris asked, his voice cracking out it went so high. Justin looked at Joey with reserved surprise. "Are you insane?"

"Are you?" Joey asked. "The future of this group doesn't depend on Justin and JC staying together. JC isn't out here throwing a tantrum, and he's the one that should. If he's not going to mention it, neither should you. Lance is going to leave it alone, and I'm going to leave it alone, and I think you should, too. Justin's back, we've gone over the schedule, and everybody's going to meet all their obligations like adults are supposed to. That's all I'm asking, and that's all we have a right to ask."

"That's bullshit," Chris said, and Lance flinched again. Justin was watching with his arms folded, and I realized that I really, really needed to pee. I was practically dancing in the kitchen, but I wanted to catch the end of this. "JC is your friend, damn it."

"So is Justin," Joey said sharply. "And as a friend, I'm going to let them work things out for themselves without sticking my nose in. Now, can we all shut up for a minute and wait for JC to come back so we can finish going over the rest of this?"

"Fine," Chris said, stalking away to kick a ball into the pool. Justin and Lance looked away in opposite directions, and Joey stood in the middle of his three friends, scratching his head as if trying to figure out what to say next.

I turned to find the bathroom, figuring that there had to be one on the first floor somewhere. If not, I'd go find one on the second floor. As I rounded another corner, passing what looked like an entertainment room and a dining room and another living room (maybe it was a den?), I heard a voice and almost kicked myself. Yeah, I'd found the bathroom, and I'd also found JC. No wonder he wasn't outside with the others. He'd come in for a facilities break.

"I'm sorry," he said. His voice had a little bit of an accent, something I hadn't noticed before, and he sounded upset. "No, I, yeah, I know. I know I'm not supposed to call you at home, I just, no, I'm sorry."

Who could he be talking to?

"No, I didn't want to do that!" JC said, and I could hear him pacing around the bathroom. "You're right. I was stupid. I wasn't thinking at all. I was just upset, ok? I knew it would be hard to see him, but he's, there's this guy with him, and I just wanted to talk to someone, ok? I just, I needed someone, and I thought you might care."

JC sounded on the verge of tears, and when he spoke again, he sounded defeated.

"No, I didn't mean it like that," he sighed. "I'm sorry. I swear I am. Yes, I, yes. I know you care about me. You're right. I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean to bother you. OK. OK, that's fine. No, I won't call you at home again. I know it was stupid. I won't, I promise. OK. Good bye."

I heard the faucet running, and realized that he must be washing his face. I wasn't really sure what to do, as I didn't want to be accused of eavesdropping on top of snooping around the house (never mind that I really had been eavesdropping, although I didn't do it on purpose), so I walked a little further back down the hallway, and then began walking toward the bathroom again, making sure to tap my feet a little loudly, so that he could hear me coming. When I came around the corner, JC was standing in the bathroom, drying his hands on a towel.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, half turning away.

"Huh?" he asked, looking toward me. I hadn't noticed his eyes out in the driveway before. They were blue, like Justin's but had other colors swirled through them, nothing like his at all.

"I, um, I just needed to pee," I said, my hands gesturing uselessly at the air. "I didn't mean to interrupt you."

"No, it's ok," JC said, walking past me. His face was still neutral, and I guessed that he'd dried it on the towel before he started wiping his hands. The tips of his bangs, hanging down in his eyes, were wet, and I realized that he thought I was staring when his eyebrow went up.

"Sorry," I said, blurting the first thought that came into my head. "I just, you know, I've seen a lot of pictures of you, that's all."

He shrugged a little.

"That sounded kind of dumb, didn't it?" I asked. Oh, God, I was babbling. Everything in my head was tumbling out of my mouth. I don't know why he was making me so nervous, but his eyes pinned me, as if he were searching for something, and I squirmed under his gaze. Was he evaluating me? Sizing me up? What?

"I get that all the time," he said. His voice was completely impossible to read. Why couldn't he be hostile, or at least sound threatened? Why was he just staring at me like I was anybody off the street, or worse, like I was nobody? He started to walk down the hall away from me. "The bathroom's all yours."

Great. I had Chris thinking I was a meddling gold digging celebrity chaser, Lance convinced I was another hellbound homosexual sinner, and now I'd left JC thinking that I was some kind of barely articulate moron. All I had left to do was drive Joey away somehow, too, and then Justin wouldn't be able to keep dating me, because he wouldn't have any friends at all left. As I washed my hands I wondered what the hell else could go wrong, and how much longer we'd be here. Even worse, if I was this upset, I couldn't imagine what Justin would be like. As I walked back down the hall I heard Joey.

"He's right there," he said, as I walked down the hallway. I stopped in the kitchen door, and saw Joey, Chris, and Lance staring at me.

"Snooping around?" Chris snapped predictably.

"I had to piss," I answered, watching Lance shake his head. Score another point for me! If I was already off on a bad foot with him, I might as well make it worse by using foul language. "Don't worry, I washed my hands. Where's Justin?"

"Afraid to let him out of your sight?" Chris sneered.

"He's outside on the patio," Joey said, smacking Chris on the arm. Joey pointed at the sliding doors.

"He's talking to his real boyfriend," Chris said, and my fist clenched before I could stop it. Damn it, I didn't want to let him get to me, but he saw it and smirked as I walked over to the door. "Better hurry before they get back together."

"Blow me," I snapped, hearing Lance let out a little noise of distaste, too. When I stepped out onto the patio JC and Justin were at the far end, near the pool.

"You don't have to do that," Justin said. "It's your house, too."

"Look, Justin, I told you, I want you to be happy," JC said, running his hands through his hair. I noticed that raising his arms lifted his t-shirt a little, flashing a little glimpse of tanned stomach, and I noticed Justin glancing down at it. Damn, this was going to be a problem. "I can't stay there with you, though. I can't, I just, I don't want to see the two of you together. I'll go somewhere else, stay here with Chris or something."

"You don't have to do that," Justin said. "Can't we just be friends? Even if we're not together, can't we still be friends?"

"Justin, you don't understand what you're asking me," JC said, shaking his head. "I want you to be happy, and if you're happy with someone else, that's great, but you can't think I want to see it right in front of me like that. I'll go somewhere else."

"No," Justin said, taking his arm lightly, almost caressing it. I felt something surge up inside me seeing that, and started across the patio. Justin looked up in surprise, letting go of JC's arm, but JC's face remained unreadable. "Chris!"

"Am I interrupting?" I asked, pausing now that they'd seen me.

"No," Justin said. "I was just telling JC that you and I are going to stay somewhere else, and he can stay at the house."

"Justin," JC began, jamming his hands in his pockets.

"No, please," Justin said. "We'll figure something out, ok?"

JC sighed.

"Fine," he said, walking away from Justin. He nodded at me as he went by, and walked into the house.

I walked over to Justin, unsure of whether I should touch him or not, but he reached out for me, and wrapped his arms around me, leaning the side of his head against mine.

"That was really mature, Justin," I said, not sure what other word I should use. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," he answered. "I mean, I didn't give him any warning, or tell him I was with somebody now. I guess it was kind of stupid to think we could just all hang out in the same house and it wouldn't upset anyone. I can't just kick him out into the street. I wouldn't do that to him. It does leave us with kind of a problem, though."

"I think I can help with that," Joey said, walking out onto the patio. I started to move away from Justin, but he held me tighter, watching Joey. Joey seemed friendly, though. "You guys could come stay at my house, if you want to, with me and Kelly and Bri."

Justin and I looked at each other, but both of our gazes snapped back to the house when Chris slammed the patio door closed. That was all the answer I needed. If Joey was on our team, I figured consolidating our forces was the best bet.

To be continued.