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 enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.
That said, we now continue.
Holding the sides of Justin's head gently, I pulled him up from my neck, where he had been lightly licking just below my jaw. He smiled down at me as I pulled him up, and then his face was above mine, and I was staring into those bright blue eyes of his as I pulled his face down, pressing his mouth to mine. His lips were pressing against mine, and I felt a slight shiver rush through me as his tongue slid into my mouth. The tip of it probed against my tongue, rubbing, pressing, and I wrestled mine back against it. As Justin invaded my mouth his body pressed mine into the mattress, both of us still dressed. I could feel his firm chest crushing me gently, and lower down I could feel how hard he was, the firm pipe of his cock grinding against mine. He'd caught my hands and was holding them by the wrists, pulling my arms out to either side of me so that he could sample my mouth at his leisure.
I let out a soft purr of contentment, muffled between us by his tongue and our lips, and Justin pulled back, his mouth wet and pink.
"You didn't like what I was doing to your neck?" he asked in his low, husky voice, the one that really got me going. It wasn't quite a whisper.
"I liked it a lot," I said, leaning up. I couldn't move very far with him on top of me, but did my best, flicking out my tongue to run the tip over his bottom lip. "But you were going awfully fast with that tackle."
"You're right," Justin agreed, letting go of my hands. "Let's go slow."
He kissed me again, lifting up as he did, his lips firm and purposeful on my mouth, and I had to sit up as he moved to keep our mouths connected. He stood slowly, but remained stooped over so that we wouldn't have to stop just yet, and I welcomed his tongue into my mouth again before gently probing mine into his, running it over and through, exploring all of the places he'd touched. He finally pulled back, both of us letting out a little sigh of disappointment, and for a second a thin string of spit connected us before it broke. I snickered, thinking about how enthusiastically messy we could be. Justin wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning at me.
"You look so sexy right now," he whispered. "With your clothes all wrinkled and your hair messed up. I see my spit on your mouth, baby, and it makes me so hot."
"Get undressed, Justin," I said, bending to untie my shoes. "Come to bed."
"In a second," he answered.
As I pulled off my shoes, and then my socks (nobody left their socks on to go to bed outside of a porno movie, unless they were really in a hurry), Justin shut off the lights and lit a few candles on the dresser. They had candles in every room of the house, which I figured was JC's influence. I undid my belt, and then began peeling off my clothes as Justin stood at the foot of the bed and did the same in the flickering half light. Off came the shoes, kicked into a corner, and then he stood on one foot and then the other to pull his socks off. He was undoing his shirt as I pulled off my pants, his chest coming slowly into view with each button, the curved pecs, the small reddish pink nipples with their already hardened tips, the uneven rippling of his abs leading down to his flat stomach, bisected by an almost invisible treasure trail of scattered blond hair.
I pulled myself back on the bed, naked, settling myself against the pillows as he slid his pants down over his long, lean thighs, blushing a little when he grabbed the tops of his briefs with the obvious wet spot on the front as his cock, equally obvious, bulged from within. The candlelight turned him golden as he walked toward me, catching in his hair, highlighting his smoothly rounded shoulders, glowing warmly in the hair on his arms, legs, and the curls of his bush, glistening on the wet head of his jutting cock. With almost feline grace he crawled up the bed toward me, settling down on top of me the same way that we'd been laying before. Now, though, I could feel all his skin sliding against mine, his nipples rubbing against my own, our cocks throbbing together, trapped between us as he began to kiss me again, one hand holding my face and the other running through my hair.
"I love you," Justin whispered as I ran my hands up and down his back, holding him against me, reveling in the feeling of his muscles gliding beneath his skin. "I love you."
"I love you, too," I answered, and Justin froze above me. He pulled back, staring down at me, his face confused as if he hadn't quite heard me.
"You," he began, swallowing as his voice caught in his throat. His eyes were so wide, and still bright blue despite the low light.
"I love you," I repeated, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you, Justin, and I should have said it a while ago."
I did love Justin, and I was sure of it. Maybe it wasn't the same kind of love that I felt for Matt, but it was still romantic love, pure love, the kind that made me want to be with him and give myself to him and make him happy. Maybe love felt different with different people, or maybe it wasn't supposed to be analyzed and rationalized and everything else. And maybe my relationship with Justin wasn't perfect. Maybe I'd spent too much time lately dwelling on the negative, not seeing all the things about him that I fell in love with because I was too busy picking apart every little thing he did that irritated me. Honestly, though, most of our problem was communication, not talking to each other and not being honest with each other, and being honest about my feelings was the best way I could think of to start solving that problem. Maybe me not saying it was part of the reason why Justin always had so many mood swings with me, why he went from hot to cold and back again so fast sometimes that it felt like my head was spinning.
Either way, I was saying it now, and above me I watched Justin's eyes glisten, and knew that it was the right thing to do.
"Chris, please make love to me," Justin whispered, leaning down to kiss me again. His lips were trembling, and I could feel his whole body shivering. Up and down his back goosebumps raised, and I smoothed them down with my hands, holding him and comforting him. He'd needed to hear me say that for so long.
"I will, baby," I whispered, returning his kisses gently, still taking things slow. "I'll take care of you."
Holding Justin's shoulders, feeling the firm muscle shift and yield beneath my fingers, I rolled him gently, settling him back against the pillows. I peeled the sheets back, revealing him to me, and he waited, relaxed except for the throbbing cock resting against his abs, looking up at me with anticipation as he caressed my head and neck with his hands. I held myself above him, off to the side a little, and ran a hand down the side of his body, brushing over his ribs and hip with the back of my fingers. He shivered, making one of his little Justin noises, a low whine of pleasure.
"You're so beautiful, Justin," I whispered.
"So are you," he answered, reaching down. I felt his fingers close around my shaft, squeezing it, and leaned down to kiss him. I wanted him badly, but it was obvious that he wanted me, too. It was my turn to whimper now, my hips moving slowly. "I want you, Chris. I want you inside me."
"I want you, too," I repeated, falling down on top of him.
He let out a loud groan, his hand still wrapped around my cock, squeezing and pulling, and I felt my head leaving a slick trail across his hip. I buried my face in his neck, tasting the warm skin, inhaling the smell of his cologne. He was hot beneath my mouth, and I could feel his pulse. The idea that it was pounding beneath my lips, that his heart was pounding just for me, and because of what I was doing, was an extreme turn on, despite the morbid vampiric overtones. I kissed my way across the ridge of his collarbone, sucking at it, listening to him whimper and mew as he squirmed beneath me. He let go of my cock as I slid down him, kissing my way across the rise of his chest. I found one of his nipples, stiff and ready, and wrapped my mouth around it, forming a tight ring and sucking hard. Justin yelped with pleasure, arching his back and pushing his chest up toward my mouth.
"Yes, yes, please," he begged, one of his hands gripping my shoulder tightly, the other rubbing the back of my head.
I would have liked to spend all night on his chest, to worship the muscle and both of his nipples with my mouth the way they deserved, but I had another, lower goal in mind. As I moved lower, painting my way with my tongue, Justin squirmed and sighed and squealed beneath me. One of his hands was still on the back of my head, and the other was rubbing over my neck and shoulders, his fingertips feathering over me lightly even as they tried to push me gently lower. I licked down the center of his abs, getting closer, nearing the sticky smear of precum that his leaking cock, just below my mouth now, was leaving across him. I zeroed in on that throbbing, leaking pink cap and gave it a couple of tentative licks, just to savor his slightly salty flavor and his springy, meaty texture. The head of his cock was soft, innocent, but also slightly rubbery, giving a little as I pressed my tongue against it. Justin yelped a little louder as I pressed the tip of my tongue against his slit, running through it and spearing up more of his sticky juice.
"Please, please, please," Justin whimpered over and over above me, and when I looked up past his chest I saw that his eyes were closed and his face straining.
Rather than smoothing out, the lines on his face deepened as I swallowed him, sucking him all the way in until my nose was pressed into his pubes, nuzzling against his flexing belly. As much as I could tell he wanted to, Justin was slamming into my throat. Instead he was laying back, panting, and letting me control the speed, remembering what I'd said earlier about wanting to take it slowly. I bobbed slowly, deep throating him for a little bit, then pulling back and just working on the head with my tongue, nursing on it, before bobbing up and down, letting his thick shaft slide in and out of my wet lips. He was still muttering and begging above me, mixing it in with my name, tossing his head back and forth on the pillows, and I reached up with one hand to touch his balls, probing them, then tugging lightly at the sparse hair on them.
Justin's legs came up, his feet brushing my sides, as I reached under him with the other hand and touched his hole. He tensed for just a second when I did, sharply inhaling, and one of his hands left my head. I heard him opening the nightstand, and knew what he was going for as I lightly circled his hole with my fingertip, teasing him as I continued to suck him off and massage his balls. His thighs were on either side of my face, rubbing against my cheeks as he raised his knees, giving me better access as his hand pressed the tube of lube toward me. He shivered as I squeezed a drop onto him, going by feel since I still had his cock in my mouth, and I flicked my tongue over his head to distract him as I began to gently probe him with one, then two, and then three fingers. I slid them in and out, speeding up until they matched the speed I was swallowing him, and I could see sweat start to sheen across his forehead. His whimpers and yelps got louder and faster, sharper and more urgent, and I swallowed him hard, pulling him all the way into my throat, when I felt his balls draw up toward his tightening body.
"Chris, oh, oh God," he yelped, jerking as my plunging fingers massaged his prostate, and I felt his cock throbbing as he shot down my throat, spurting hard as his abs locked in front of me, tightening and flexing.
As soon as it was over he was guiding me up his body, pulling my head and shoulders up through his raised legs, one hand on my neck as the other slid down my side, reaching for my cock. I was still probing and stretching him, but I reached for the condom he'd dropped with the lube with my free hand as I kissed him, pushing my tongue into his eagerly sucking mouth. Justin's other hand slid down to tear the condom open, and then he was struggling to roll it over my cock as I bit and sucked at his neck and his earlobe. I pressed the lube into his hands, and he began to work my cock with them, smearing it over my shaft and head, tugging me toward his tight little opening.
"Please make love to me," he breathed in my ear, his voice breathy and high, and I was happy to oblige, letting him press my head against his hole. "Chris, please, I want you in me, right there, please. I want this. I want your hard cock, please."
"OK," I breathed, pressing against him.
Justin's whole body bucked when I finally pushed inside. His back arched, pushing his chest up into mine, and his hands, gripping my ass now, pulled me forward as I slowly sank, inch by inch, into him. It was hot and warm and tight, and seeing him throw his head back I knew there wasn't anywhere else I'd rather be. His legs hooked around me, his heels rubbing the back of my thighs, and I covered his face with kisses as I slowly moved in and out of him, feeling him clench around me. He let go of my ass and ran his fingers up and down my back, raking over my ribs, almost scratching, lifting his hips up to meet my thrusts. Each time I sank in, my balls smacking against his ass, I felt him clench, trying to hold me.
"Justin, I love you," I whispered, over and over, making sure he knew it, driving my point home.
"Yes, Chris," Justin whimpered. He looked up at me, smiling, and I saw something else flicker in his eyes as he leaned forward. "Fuck me, Chris. Fuck me hard."
"Jesus, Justin," I moaned as he locked his legs around me, shifting somehow to draw me in even deeper. Oh my God, listening to him say that was too much. I started to hammer into him, driving him back into the pillows. Every time I hit bottom, sawing in hard, he grunted, loudly, and dug his fingers into my ass.
"Yeah, Chris, fuck me," he repeated, his voice a husky groan. "Fuck that hard cock into me. Yeah, Yeah!"
"You like that?" I asked, grabbing his legs. I pulled them up, bending him almost in half, planting his ankles on my shoulders. "You want it like that? Huh?"
"Yes, harder," Justin chanted, locking eyes with mine. "Harder, please, fuck me, Chris!"
He wasn't usually like this, but the way he was talking had me out of control, and under me he was twisting his body and flexing, using all that dancing grace in ways I wouldn't have thought of. Between the pleasure, I wondered for a second if he might somehow snap my cock off, but it would be totally worth it. His hands raked up my spine again, the fingertips digging into my back, and he pinched my nipples, twisting them roughly away from my chest as I hammered into him. I felt my body tensing up, but wanted him to feel it, too, and I grabbed his still hard cock, jerking it hard in time to my thrusts. I was moaning his name, and he was shaking his head back and forth, yelping and just muttering, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over, the cords in his neck straining as the sweat from my body dripped onto him to mingle with his own.
"Chris!" Justin practically screamed, grabbing my neck.
He smashed his mouth against mine, sucking hard, as his cock let out a faint spray of cum all over his chest and my hand, splattering widely. His ass clamped down on my cock as his legs jerked, trying to push me away, and I slammed into him again, gasping as I finally let myself fall over the edge. I hadn't cum that hard in years, if ever, and I actually felt myself almost blacking out as I collapsed on top of him. He kissed the side of my head over and over, sucking and licking at my face and neck as I fought to catch my breath, and when I finally found my way to his mouth again, dueling with his tongue, I caught the coppery taste of blood.
"Justin?" I asked, pulling back. His eyes went wide as he grabbed me and rolled me over, my cock still inside him.
"Oh my God," he blurted, reaching over for the tissues. Rather than pulling off of me and starting to clean us up, he began to blot my mouth. "Chris, I'm so sorry! Oh my God, I bit your lip."
"It's ok," I said, running my tongue over the spot. Matt had definitely never done anything like that. "Wow. That was."
"Yeah," Justin sighed, blotting at my mouth again as he smiled at me. "That was wow."
The two of us rested for a second, Justin still on top of me, his skin sliding over mine, slickened with sweat and that little smattering of cum. Kissing me again, he carefully pulled off of me, and cleaned me off with tissues, getting rid of the condom and doing his best to clean up the rest before I gently took care of him, too. He whimpered, sensitive, as I touched his hole, but his eyes told me it was ok, and when it was over he pulled the sheet up and I settled down against his chest, resting my head on him as he ran his hand through my hair. The candles were still burning, but from where I was they didn't seem to be near anything flammable, and neither of us actually wanted to get up to blow them out. Justin's skin was drying now, cool and soft under my cheek, and I planted mostly dry little kisses along his pec as I lay on it. He sighed with contentment.
"Chris, I love you so much," he whispered again.
"I love you, too, Justin," I answered, and closed my eyes.
We fell asleep cradling each other, reveling in each other's skin and smell and just the presence of having the other one near. Each time he breathed in, my head rose on his chest, and when I breathed out, it fluttered across his skin. His heart was beating under my cheek, and his hands cradled me against him as if he didn't want to ever let go. Whatever else was going on between us, the fighting and the tension and everything else, right then it didn't matter. Nothing mattered more than the two of us being together and safe.
When the alarm went off, I woke up in pain, real pain. I yelped, closing my eyes, and Justin sat up immediately.
"Chris?" he asked, touching my back. "Chris, what's wrong?"
"Headache, Justin," I answered through gritted teeth. I'd never felt anything like this before. It was like a fist was squeezing my skull, and I whimpered a little as he rubbed my back.
"Is it a hangover?" Justin asked. I shook my head. "Can I do anything? Do you want me to go wake JC?"
I shook my head again, wincing at the movement.
"For a headache, Justin?" I asked, almost smiling. "What's he going to do?"
"I don't know!" he answered, and I could hear the worry in his tone. "Jesus, Chris, you're so pale. I'm going to call my mom."
"No!" I said sharply, cringing a little from my own tone of voice. It was just a headache, but I wouldn't call Justin's mother if I was bleeding to death and she had the world's last band aid. "Bring me some water, please, baby, and some aspirin."
"OK, ok," Justin said, his voice shaking a little. He scurried away from the bed, and I lay on my side, waiting for him to come back. When he did he dropped to his knees beside the bed and began rubbing my shoulder again. "Chris? Please be ok."
"I'm ok, Justin," I said, squinting my eyes open. I could see from his face that he was on the verge of tears, and the water in the glass shook as he held it out to me, his hand trembling. I swallowed the aspirin and handed him the glass.
"What should I do?" Justin asked, rubbing my hands, holding them between his. "What else do you need?"
"Go take a shower, Justin," I whispered. "Maybe I just need a little more sleep. Go get ready for your interview."
"Are you sure?" he asked. I realized that he'd just run through the house to get the water stark naked, and prayed JC wasn't up yet.
"Yeah," I answered. "I'm just going to lay here, ok?"
By the time Justin got done showering and dressing, leaning over me several times and delicately feeling my forehead to check for a fever, I actually felt a little better, but I still had to convince him to go to his interview.
"No, I'll call and cancel," he said, sitting on the bed, holding my head in his lap. "I'm not leaving you like this."
"No, I'll be fine," I insisted. "It's going away already, and it's too much trouble for you to schedule this stuff. I'll just sleep it off, Justin, and I'll be fine."
He paced the room for a few minutes, busying himself with checking his outfit again, changing his accessories, and retouching his hair. He switched shoes, and was looking at his phone again when I finally insisted.
"Justin! Please go," I said, sitting up even though my skull was throbbing. "It's just a headache. People get them all the time for no reason, and they go away. I'll be fine. Just go to your interview, and I'll get some more sleep, and everything will be ok."
He swallowed, fidgeting with his hands, looking at his nails, and finally nodded.
"I want you to leave your phone on," he instructed, putting it on the nightstand on my side. "Call me if you need anything, please, and I'll come back as soon as it's over. If it doesn't go away, or it gets worse, you call me immediately, ok?"
"OK," I promised. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he answered, leaning down to kiss me. He planted a quick peck on my lips, watched me warily for a minute from the doorway, as if regretting his decision, and then was gone. I closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
When I woke up I could tell it was a lot later, both by the change in sunlight and by the rumble of my stomach. I'd missed breakfast, and hadn't had any coffee, which probably had as much to do with my groggy mindset as the departed headache did. My head felt kind of empty, like it was full of cotton or something, but at least it didn't hurt anymore. I picked up the phone as I walked toward the shower, remembering that Justin had said to keep it with me, and saw a text message telling me that he loved me and that I should call immediately if I needed him. I wondered as I got in the shower if he would answer, or if Johnny or one of the other trusted friends was holding it. For all I knew, his mother was there. When I was showered and dressed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt since I wasn't planning to go anywhere, and went off in search of food.
Instead I found company, hearing voices, male voices, as I approached the music room on my way to the kitchen. I picked out JC's immediately, picking up on his hurt, depressed tone again, but didn't recognize the other. If it wasn't Lance, Joey, or Chris, then it had to be someone new. I paused, waiting and listening.
"Do you have to say it like that?" JC asked. "I thought you wanted to hang out today. I thought we were going to, I don't know, talk or something."
Oh, shit. This wasn't a phone call. This was in person. He was here.
"Jesus Christ, JC, are we back to this again?" JC's ex boyfriend asked. "What is it with you lately? What the hell did you think I came over here for? I know you want it, and I haven't had any since the other day. I'm horny. I need to drop a load."
Oh, and he was eloquent and polite, too. What the hell had JC ever seen in this guy?
"Do you have to make everything sound so ugly?" JC asked sharply. "You make it sound like that's all you care about, just, just getting off."
"Let me repeat myself," Ex boyfriend sighed. "Are we back to this again? What the hell do you want from me, JC? Besides my dick. You want to blow me? I'll let you blow me. You want me to fuck you? I'll be happy to do it all over the house, slam it right up your ass as hard as you want me to. I'll finished getting undressed, and then I'll do whatever you want. We both know that's why you said yes when I called."
Finish getting undressed? Like he was partially undressed right now, and might need to finish? I crept closer to the doorway, fully aware that I was losing all grounds to lecture Justin for eavesdropping. I'd been doing it a hell of a lot lately, too.
"You said you wanted to hang out," JC said weakly.
"Like you don't know what that means?" he asked. "Did you want me to call and say, 'Hey, I'm hard and my wife doesn't get back for another week. You want to suck me off like you did the other day?' Is that what you'd rather I said, because I can do that next time."
"I want you to talk to me like you respect me!" JC burst sharply, pain evident in his tone. Was he crying? "I want you to, I don't know, to at least pretend like you care about me."
"Hey, hey," he said, his voice losing a little of its bite. "I care about you. I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"
Yeah, to get his rocks off. JC wasn't really going to fall for this line of bullshit, was he? I never would have thought that I'd end up rooting for JC, but honestly, he was better than this. He could do a lot better than this asshole.
"Don't touch me," JC said, but it lacked bite. "No, I mean it. Don't. I feel like you don't care about me at all."
"Jesus fucking Christ, JC," he said, his voice raising again. "You want to talk about your feelings now? Now? We've had this discussion. We're two guys who have sex. I need to get off, and you help me out. I'm not here for the rest of this faggy bullshit, JC. I'm not going to hold your hand or kiss your cheek. Save that for your boyfriend, ok?"
JC didn't say anything. I wanted to walk in there and slug this guy. "Faggy bullshit"? Hi, asshole, you just offered to fuck him all over the house, and to let him blow you. Perhaps I wasn't quite clear on all the terms the cool kids were using lately, but I was pretty sure that doing that with the same guy, or really with any guy, for years at a time might possibly qualify as "faggy".
"Oh, that's right, you don't have a boyfriend," he said cruelly. "Your boyfriend's got another boyfriend now, right? Maybe it was all this weepy bullshit, JC. Did you ever think about that?"
"Stop it," JC said softly.
"Are you crying?" he demanded incredulously. "What is wrong with you lately?"
We waited. I hoped JC was reaching for the tissue box.
"Well?" he prodded. Did he get off on this, too, on breaking JC?
"You make me feel like I'm your whore," JC said finally. "You make me feel like the only reason you call is to get off, and the only reason you call me is because it's safe, and I have as much to lose as you do."
"And that's it?" he asked. That didn't move him at all?
"You asked what was wrong with me, and I answered," JC said dully. "Did you want to hear something else? Did you want me to say I love you? I'm not sure if I ever did, but I could say it."
"Jesus, no," he sighed. "That's the last thing I want to hear, more of that faggy bullshit. Let me remind you, once again JC, of the simple facts here. I'm not your limp-wristed, pansy assed faggot dancing boyfriend. I'm not that little fucking twink that you think walks on water. I'm a real man, JC, and real men don't do the shit you do. Real men don't hold hands, or move in together, or any of the rest of this, and that's always going to be the problem between us. I'm a real man, and you're, well, you."
JC didn't say anything, and I wasn't even sure what he could say to that. I wanted to take this guy out to the pool and drown him. No wonder JC came back from seeing him and sat in his room and cried all day. No wonder just talking to him left JC upset and uncertain. Justin was completely right when he said this guy was bad news, and that he wasn't dealing with his own issues. The guy wasn't just in denial, he was hostile about it, and JC was his target. Why would JC keep going back to that, and why on earth would he do it when he had Justin?
Ex boyfriend continued his tirade while I was silently steaming in the hallway.
"I'm glad you understand things, though. You're right. I call you because I need to get off, and I know you won't tell. You're wrong about something, though. I mean, I don't hate you. I don't care about you the way that you want me to, you know, in your little sissy daydreams, but I care about you a little. You're a friend, and I'm a friend to you, too. I let you help me out. I know it's something you want, and I'm willing to let you have it. I'd think you'd be grateful."
He had to be kidding.
"Grateful?" JC asked quietly. "You cost me Justin. Maybe you don't understand it, but I love him, and because of this, this thing that you and I do, I lost him. You want me to be grateful for that?"
"OK, you lost Justin because you told him," he answered. "That's your own fault, not mine. I didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, and I sure as hell didn't make you tell him."
"I don't lie to people I love," JC said. "I'm not you. How's your wife, by the way?"
Good for you, JC. I grinned in the hallway.
"Fuck you," ex boyfriend answered angrily. Apparently JC hit a nerve. "This is too much fucking trouble just for a blowjob. I'm going home to beat off."
"Wait," JC said, his voice broken. He sounded defeated, and I knew that he was about to ask this guy to stay after all. I couldn't let him do that, not with this guy. I stepped into the doorway of the music room.
"No, go home. He doesn't need you," I said loudly, folding my arms. JC's mouth fell open in surprise, but I was equally surprised to see the guy with him, standing in the music room, his shirt undone. The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them, and under other circumstances I probably would have blushed and felt like an idiot. "You're that guy from the Backstreet Boys!"
Kevin's eyes narrowed.
To be continued.