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.

"Didn't mean to what, Justin?" I asked, standing by the door after I closed it behind me. He looked away, and I almost exploded. I managed to keep from screaming at him, but my voice was hard, and I saw him tense. "God damn it Justin, will you talk to me?"

"What do you want me to say?" Justin asked, his eyes wide. He sat up, facing me on the bed, but I didn't know if he wanted me to come sit by him or not, so I stayed by the door.

"I want you to talk to me," I said, my voice lower but still angry. "I want you to say something, anything, rather than the way you've been treating me. I can't deal with this, Justin. I can't deal with you shoving me away, and not talking to me. I can deal with you being mad at me, and with you arguing and being a spoiled brat, and all the other things that you do that piss me off, but I can't deal with this. You hurt me, Justin. You're hurting me right now, and if you can't see that, if all you're going to do is sit there and stare at me and not say anything, then I'm leaving. I've had it, Justin. I can't do this."

I jerked the door open, feeling my eyes sting, not wanting to cry in front of him. He'd hurt me enough already, and I wasn't going to let him see it. I meant it when I said I'd had enough. As much as I wanted answers, as much as I wanted to know what had broken between us, and as much as I still loved him, seeing him just laying on the bed like that, staring at me with his big blue eyes, blurting out an apology almost like a reflex when it was me who should be apologizing, I couldn't take any more. I was done.

"Chris," he said softly as I crossed the hall, walking into the room where my bags were. I had no idea where I was going, but it was away from him, and that might be enough. Maybe the bodyguard could drive me somewhere, or I could call a cab. Maybe I could go to a hotel.

Or I could actually go home.

"Chris," Justin said again, closer now. He must have been following me. I stopped in the doorway of the other room, listening to the sound of my name, to the way it rolled out of his mouth. I loved him so much, more than I thought I would, but I didn't know if it was enough. "Chris, wait, please."

"Why?" I asked, turning around. He looked confused, like he hadn't expected the question, and I saw, finally, that he was hurting, too. I wanted it to be too late, wanted to not notice him being in pain so that I wouldn't give him a chance to hurt me again, but I couldn't do it. I had to listen.

"Because, I," Justin stammered, tongue tied. "Because I care about you. I don't want to lose you, not like this."

"Then tell me what's wrong," I said, shaking my head. "Don't just tell me you care about me. Show me."

"Chris, I didn't mean to hurt you," he said quietly, turning away again. "It's just, I."

"Stop, Justin," I said, shaking my head again. "Stop making excuses, and stop turning away. You scared the hell out of me last night. I waited, and I called the studio. I didn't know where you were! You weren't returning any calls, and I didn't know what was going on, or if something, if something."

My voice choked off to a halt, and I turned away, my eyes watering again. I couldn't say it out loud, not last night, and not now. I couldn't give the idea that much strength, or it might overwhelm me. Justin's hand settled onto my shoulder, squeezing it, and when spoke his voice was shaking, too.

"Chris, you thought, you thought I," he said, and I nodded, letting the few tears drop onto my cheeks as he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around me from behind. "I'm sorry, Chris, I'm so sorry. I didn't think about that. I didn't think about Matt, and what you might be scared of."

As soon as he said that, I felt things harden in me again, and I froze as he stood with his arms around me. Suddenly my tears were gone, and he must have felt the change in me.

"No, you didn't," I said. "You didn't stop at all to think about me worrying, or to return my calls, because what I think always comes in second with you. Everything always comes in second with you, Justin, right behind what you think and what you want. You're selfish, and I'm tired of pretending not to see it."

Justin let go of me, stepping back.

"And what?" he asked, his voice getting hard, masking the surprised hurt I could pick out underneath. This is how it feels, Justin. I didn't want to think that, but I couldn't help it. I didn't want to hurt him, but, paradoxically, I did. "You've just been holding it in all along? You've been biting your tongue?"

"Yeah, I have," I answered, facing him. I could see that he was getting defensive, that he was taking on his haughty popstar demeanor, but it was too late to put that on. I already knew that there were cracks underneath. "It's not like I haven't tried to talk to you. It's not like I haven't tried to talk about the way it makes me feel when you close me off from things, or when you shove me out the side door or pull away from me because you're worried about who's going to see me with you."

"You knew it would be like that if we were together," Justin said, gritting his teeth. "You knew that there would be places you couldn't go, and things you couldn't do, and you said it was ok, and that you understood."

"Because you promised me it wouldn't be like this," I said, walking back into the bedroom I'd moved into. I didn't really need anything in there, other than to pace. Justin stood in the doorway, crossing his arms and watching me above a pouting bottom lip. "Before we came here, you promised that you would never treat me like that, and when we argued about it, when you finally let me talk about it because I couldn't take it anymore, you promised again. You promised that even if you acted that way with other people, you would never do it with me, and you haven't kept that promise. You told me that you were scared, and that you were sorry, and everything else, but I'm tried of it, Justin. I'm tired of you hurting me and then telling me you're sorry afterward. I'm tired of always being told to take a back seat and that I don't understand and that things are so hard for you."

"Like things here have been so hard for you," he said. "You're the one who wanted to come with me."

"You begged me!" I snapped, my hands clenching into fists. I remembered the way Justin had told me that the guys were all out to get him, that everyone was against him, and how I'd come here and slowly found out for myself that things weren't quite that way. I wasn't about to let him paint me in the same light. "You told me how hurt you were, and how scared you were, and how you couldn't do anything on your own and needed me, and against all my fears and my better judgment I came with you! And then, even though I knew it was a stupid idea, I moved back into this house with you, because it was what you wanted! It's always about what you want, Justin, and I've just gone along!"

"Why?" he demanded, getting angry as well. "If it was so hard for you, and such a pain in the ass, and everything was so terrible, why did you do it? Why did you come alone for any of this? Why the hell did you wait so long to say anything if it was bothering you this much?"

"Because I love you!" I answered, almost screaming the words. "I did it because I love you, and I wanted to do what was best for you. I wanted you to be happy, and I wanted to do whatever I could to make sure that came true, but I'm not going to do it if it costs me this much. I can't always be the one who breaks on things, and gives things up. I feel like all I do in this relationship is give, and give, and that all you do is take and ask for more. I've tried to pretend all along that things are different, but I'm not you, Justin. I can't pretend that everything is ok and make myself believe it."

"But you still love me," he sighed, shaking his head. "Even after all of that."

"Yes," I answered without hesitating. "I love you, and I try to accept things because of it. I didn't want to fall in love with you, and you know it. I was scared to death of falling for you, and I kept trying not to let myself, but I did anyway. I've put up with everything and bent over backwards and bit my tongue so hard I thought it might fall off because I love you, and the way you treat me, the things you keep doing to me, even if you apologize for them afterward, well, I'm not sure that you really love me back."

Justin turned away, unwilling to meet my eyes. His shoulders dropped, and he looked at the floor.

"I'm not sure if I really love you, either," he sighed finally. He walked across the hall slowly to his room, and I watched his back.

"Oh," I said finally, not following him. He stood at the window in his room, with his back to be, and I stood in the doorway.

Justin wasn't sure if he loved me. After everything we'd been through, after he'd thrown himself at me until I couldn't help but respond, he wasn't sure if he loved me. After he promised not to hurt me, he wasn't sure.

"Did you ever?" I asked. "Did you care about me at all? Or did you just need someone, so you grabbed me because I was available? Were you so scared to be alone, to not have someone around you all the time, that you decided to act like you loved me because I was the first guy who came along?"

"No," Justin said, shaking his head. He turned around, his face looking not just sad but also long somehow. It was so odd to see his mouth and his eyebrows and everything else turned down that it looked like someone had just grabbed his face and stretched it. "It wasn't like that, not in the beginning. I was so alone, and I just wanted to reach out to someone, and you reached back. I talked and you listened. And it wasn't because you're someone we pay, or someone who needed something. You listened because you wanted to hear what I was saying, and you wanted to help me, and the more I got of that, the more I wanted it. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."

"For someone who doesn't mean to hurt me, you're doing a great job with it," I said.

"I know," he agreed, not arguing for once. "I didn't mean to. I just, I got scared. I started to really fall for you. What I felt for JC, the way I loved him, I never thought I would feel that way about someone else, and I did for you. I felt connected to you, and I cared about you, and it scared me. When I fell in love with JC, I already knew him, I already knew everything about him, but you, you were this mystery. You fascinated me. The more I learned about you, the more I knew you, the more I wanted to know. I wanted to be close to you. I wanted to know what you looked like when you were asleep, and what you liked to eat in the middle of the night when you got out of bed, and I wanted to know what it was like to be loved by you. I wanted to know what it was like to be with you, and it was, it was amazing."

"So you were infatuated with me," I said, sitting on the bed. Justin walked over and sat next to me, and without thinking we took each other's hand.

"It wasn't just that," Justin said, shaking his head. "It felt like I loved you. It really did."

"But?" I asked, curious. How could it feel like loving me but not actually be loving me? If he told me that he loved me, but wasn't in love with me, I was going to slap him.

"But you scared me," Justin answered, squeezing my hand. "All the things that I was intrigued by, that attracted me, that made you so different and exciting, they scared me, too. You weren't JC. I kept expecting you to be like him, but things he got pissed off about didn't faze you. Things that he was used to and ignored sent you into those brooding pouting fits that you like to pretend you don't have. I always felt, from that first night when you locked yourself in the bedroom after I said the wrong thing, like I was on eggshells around you, and sometimes it just, it was too much."

I should have listened to JC, I realized. JC tried to tell me why Justin acted the way he did, why he was so skittish and unpredictable sometimes. JC really had been trying to be my friend, and I wasn't smart enough to take his advice because I was too worried that he was trying to play with my head or scheme to get Justin back.

"But we talked about that," I said, shaking my head. "We talked about me not doing that."

"Yeah, but like you said, actions speak louder than words," Justin said. "I mean, even if we talked about it, it kept happening. And look at what you just said. You and I talked about what I wasn't supposed to do, too, and every time you brought it up again, I realized that I was still doing it. I couldn't keep my promises. Why should I think you were going to keep yours?"

Under any other circumstances, I might feel a little thrill at hearing Justin admit that I was right, and that he actually had done something wrong. Now just wasn't the time, though.

"I guess I can see that," I said finally. "If you couldn't trust yourself, I guess it would be kind of hard to trust me."

"And there was the Matt thing," Justin said offhandedly.

"The Matt thing?" I asked.

"The way you loved him," Justin answered. "I never felt anything like that. It was like, I never knew you could really love someone that much. I thought it was kind of like one of those things that you read about in stories or see on TV. I didn't think love like that was real, because I never had it. You were still mourning for him, even though years had gone by. You still loved him that much, and you didn't feel that way about me. I know that you told me that, but I thought that you would. I thought that maybe it would just happen, but I could tell you didn't love me that way. You don't love me that way now, do you?"

"I love you, Justin," I said, but I also remembered what I'd told Michelle on the phone. "But you're right. It's not the same way. Losing him almost killed me. Losing you hurts, but you're right. It's not the same."

"At least it's something," Justin said, giving a small, pained smile. "I kept thinking, though, the whole time, that I wasn't good enough. I kept trying to figure it out, but it made me feel so, I don't know, so inadequate. I know you said not to compare us, but I couldn't help it."

"Neither could I," I said, and his head snapped toward me. "Not with you and Matt. I couldn't help comparing myself to JC. I couldn't figure out why you were with me instead of him. I mean, every time I looked at him, all I could think was that he was perfect, and I was just, you know, me."

"He's not perfect," Justin said.

"I know," I said, shrugging. "But I thought he was, and I couldn't figure out what you would see in me that you couldn't get from him."

"Don't sell yourself short," Justin said, squeezing my hand. "I guess we were both undermining ourselves all along. We didn't need anyone else to say anything, or do it for us, because we were doing just fine on our own."

It felt really weird to just be talking about it like this, to calmly dissect our relationship and discuss our breakup, if that's what we were doing, like it was something we'd seen on television, but I couldn't be angry at him, and now that he wasn't shutting me out, he didn't seem angry with me.

"So what happened?" I asked. "What happened yesterday?"

"I did something really stupid," Justin answered quietly. "JC and I were working on a song, on that stupid medley that all the other guys want to do, and it kept not going together. We couldn't bridge it, we couldn't get it to flow right, and we were just getting more and more pissed off. We were sweating and arguing and smacking the equipment, you know, pulling that shit that you call my spoiled popstar act, and then we got it. We tried something else, and it all flowed together, and I just got that rush, that old rush that I used to get, that feeling when everything's there and you're there with it and you're just in that zone. JC was smiling, and I was smiling, and it all just felt so natural. It felt like old times, like things used to, and I gave him a hug, and then I, well, I just wasn't thinking, and I kissed him."

I don't know what reaction Justin was expecting, but I bet it wasn't laughter. I couldn't help it. Here I'd come upstairs, throwing open the door and forcing him to talk to me, so that I could tell him that I kissed JC, and he'd just done the same thing yesterday. He stared at me, his mouth hanging open, as if he thought I'd just gone completely insane.

"Chris?" he asked. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," I answered, my giggles tapering off. "Yeah, I'm ok. It's just, um, I came upstairs tonight to talk to you because I kind of did the same thing."

"You kissed JC?" Justin asked, his eyes narrowing. "When?"

"About a half hour ago," I answered. Justin started to get up, but I squeezed his hand. "He left already. He only came because I called him. He said that you told him to leave."

"I did," Justin answered, nodding. He was taking the news of my betrayal a lot better than I thought he would, but it's not like he could really fly off the handle when I could point at him and go, "You did it first." He knew what I was going to ask. "When I kissed JC, it only lasted for a second, and he pulled back immediately. He told me that he was sorry, and that he couldn't do that to you, and I just went off on him. I couldn't help it. He was talking about not wanting to hurt you, and I wanted to know why he hadn't thought about that when he did it to me. I mean, he barely knows you. You guys are friends, but he was supposed to be in love with me, and it didn't slow him down at all."

"Justin, he never meant to hurt you," I said. "He and I talked about it. He just made a dumb mistake, and yeah, it hurt you, but he didn't want that."

"He tried to tell me that," Justin said, nodding. "I didn't want to listen to him, though. That's why I ended up in Boston. I didn't want to hear what he said, so I ran away, and then I met you."

"And look how well that turned out," I said, smirking.

"Chris," Justin began, but I wasn't sure what he could say.

"Justin, I'm not saying it's a bad thing," I said, shaking my head. "I keep telling you I love you, and I mean it, but look at our relationship. It's not perfect. We barely communicate, and when we do, half the time it's to scream at each other. If we're not fighting with each other, it's the two of us against someone else, and if it's not that, then we're fucking. And that's just from my side. I don't know what you're thinking, but I know you're not sure if you even love me."

"It's not like that," Justin argued, shaking his head. "I mean, yeah, we have all those problems, and yeah, they're both our fault, but I, well, I think I love you. It feels like I love you."

"And JC?" I asked.

"It feels like I love him, too," Justin said sadly, looking away. "After I screamed at him yesterday, after I told him to leave, I felt like, I wasn't sure if I really wanted him to leave at all."

"What do you want, Justin?" I asked. My voice was soft, not pushing him. "What do you want to do about us? Do you want to stay with me? Do you want to be with JC again?"

He let go of my hand and wiped at his eyes. I could see that he was in pain, and I could feel it, too, inside. This wasn't as easy for me as it seemed, but we couldn't run away from it anymore. It might be the only time in our entire relationship that Justin and I had been completely honest with each other. Neither one of us had an agenda right now, except to just tell each other the truth.

"What about you?" Justin asked. "You'd walk away?"

"If it's what you want," I answered. "I love you, but I'm not going to make you stay with me because you feel bad about hurting me. I love you enough to let you make your own choice."

"But I don't want to," he said, shaking his head. "That's why I couldn't talk to you. That's why I had to get out of the house, to go drive around and to see my mom and everything else. I don't want to choose. I don't know if I love JC enough to want to go back to him. I still care about him, but he hurt me so badly, even if he didn't mean to. And you, I love you, too. You take care of me. You treat me like a real person, but you and I, we have so many problems, and I'm not sure if it's worth all of them to stay together. I don't, I just, I don't know what to do. I need to think about it, and figure things out."

"Then I'm going to make you do that," I said, standing. Justin watched me, his eyes wide.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I'm leaving, Justin," I said. "I'm leaving in the morning. I'll get another ticket, and I'm going to go home."

"You're leaving me?" Justin asked, his voice tight.

"I'm leaving Florida," I clarified. I knelt by the bed, taking his hands in mine. "I love you, but you need to decide. You need to take responsibility for your own actions and your own choices. I love you, and if you say the word, I'll come running straight back here. I'll be on the first plane if you call me and tell me that you need me."

"I can tell you that now," Justin blurted quickly, but I shook my head.

"No, you can't," I argued gently. "You still love JC, and you love me, and as much as it hurts you, you can't have us both. When you're sure, call me."

"And if I never call?" Justin whispered, his bright blue eyes right in front of mine. "If I'm sure, and it's not you?"

"Then I'll be home," I answered, shrugging. "And I'll already be on the way to getting over you."

"You make it sound so easy," Justin said sadly. "Like it'll just be this walk in the park, or, I guess for you, the Commons."

I smiled at his cleverness. At least he hadn't said it would be a stroll through the Big Dig.

"It sounds easy," I agreed. "But it won't be. Losing you, if I do, is going to hurt like hell."

I kissed him on the forehead, feeling him lean into it. His skin was soft, and his hair smelled like sunshine, like autumn leaves that had been outside. I leaned down and kissed his lips, gently, pressing mine against them, and then I let go of his hands.

"Good night, Justin," I said, walking away.

"Chris?" he asked from behind me. "How did it happen? How'd you kiss JC?"

"It just happened," I answered, turning around so he'd be able to see I was telling the truth. "When you walked right by without even talking to me, I started crying. I didn't want to, but it just hurt so much that you weren't talking to me, and all of a sudden he was there. He was handing me tissues, and trying to be my friend, and for just a second, there was something there. He was trying to hug me, to make me feel better, and when we leaned in I just kind of kissed him."

"He's really been getting around," Justin said softly, and I wondered if he knew that Kevin had been here.

"He didn't want to hurt you, Justin," I repeated. "As soon as we did it I realized I couldn't hurt you like that, and he said the same thing. It just happened, and we were both sorry."

We were both quiet, and when Justin finally spoke, he did it without looking at me.

"Apology accepted," he whispered quietly. "Good night, Chris."

"Good night, Justin," I repeated. We closed our doors, him in the bedroom and me in the room across the hall.

When I woke up in the morning, I was sure that I was doing the right thing. I couldn't stay here not knowing if I was the one he really wanted. I already had enough doubts, and now understanding that there were actual reasons for them, that they meant something, I wouldn't be able to do it. If he and I went through the motions, if we tried to force this to work, we'd end up hating each other. We'd end up like JC and Kevin, taking something that was good at the beginning and running it right into the ground. I didn't want that to happen to us. I'd rather have a good memory than a bad breakup, and it apparently wasn't just me who felt that way. Justin hadn't tried very hard, if at all, to talk me out of it. As much as he didn't want to choose, he knew this was the right thing to do, too.

I was a little saddened to see that he'd only left me a note, but not really surprised. Justin avoided things that were painful. If something hurt him, he ran away, no matter how selfish it was.

"Chris, I love you, too. I don't know right now what I want, but I understand why you want to leave. You don't want to be the second choice, and I don't want to do that to you. I don't want to do something that would take anything, any of the spark that makes you who you are, away from you, because that would hurt us both. You know why I'm not here, why I couldn't be. We said goodbye last night. I hope, whatever happens, that it's not for the last time. No matter what else, friends can love each other, too. -Justin."

I folded the note up carefully and put it in my carry on bag, thinking about calling Justin, but deciding not to. If this was the goodbye he wanted, then I could respect it. I thought I might need to call a cab, though, but then I heard the piano in the music room. Walking down the hall, I discovered JC. He heard me in the doorway, and when he turned he looked sadly at me.

"Hey," I said, shrugging.

"Good morning," he answered. "Are you ok?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly, shrugging. "What are you doing here? Are you moving back in?"

"No," JC answered, shaking his head. "I'm going to stay with Chris for the time being. Justin called me this morning, and told me what the two of you decided. I understand, and I'm sorry, Chris. I never meant to hurt Justin, and I didn't want to hurt you, either."

"No wonder we both ended up kissing you," I said, shaking my head. "Think you can give me a ride to the airport?"

"Yeah," he answered, standing. "I'm not going to move back in unless he tells me to. You're right about him needing to make a choice, and as much as I hope it'll be me, I'm not going to try to force it, either. I promise, Chris. I respect what you're doing, and, as for Justin, maybe it's time he grew up a little."

"Maybe it is," I agreed. It was funny how I always took Justin's promises with a grain of salt, waiting to see when he would break them, but I felt like JC's were written in stone. I remembered again how I'd thought for just a second that I'd met him first, but things hadn't worked out that way.

We gathered up my luggage and carried it to the garage, loading it into JC's Jag. The ever present bodyguard waited in another car, and JC waited until we were in his with the doors closed and the windows up to speak again.

"I have to tell you something else, Chris," he said quietly. "I'm not going to pursue Justin. I'm not going to ask him out, or move back into the house, or anything else. But if he calls me, if he decides that he wants me back, I'm not going to say no."

"I understand," I said, nodding.

We drove off to meet my plane.

To be concluded.