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.
Justin and I were slowly unfolding clothes, putting them on hangers and placing them in drawers, when we heard the stereo start up downstairs. It wasn't too loud, some kind of electronic dancing music that immediately made me think of being stuck in a rave somewhere. Justin perked up immediately when he heard it, and tugged at my arm, trying to drag me downstairs. I dropped the shirt I was holding and followed, since I didn't really have a choice. It was either go downstairs with Justin, or stay up here and unpack alone, so I followed him quickly as he bounded down the steps, almost running. I didn't know where the stereo was actually located, but Justin had shown me that, like at Johnny's, it was wired through every room, and it was blasting in the kitchen as Justin skittered to a stop in the doorway and gave me a second to catch up with him.
In the kitchen, it was obvious that JC had no idea we were in the house, so he must have parked in the driveway without opening the garage and seeing Justin's car. In the middle of their kitchen was a large counter island, and JC had stacked several bags of groceries on top of it. Now, as the music pounded in the kitchen, he was putting them away, with cabinets and the refrigerator door hanging open as he danced around the island. It wasn't a synchronized dance with steps and hand movements, like they would do onstage, but was instead a happily excited free form dancing, lots of hips and lots of leg, but not so much with the hands, since they were full. JC was shaking his head along to the beat, humming softly along to the wordless music as his curls shook, and I wondered if it was something he had written himself. Justin had mentioned that JC dabbled in electronica, and had put a little bit of it into some of the songs on "Celebrity".
"Hey," Justin said from the doorway, having to raise his voice to be heard over the music.
JC's head popped up, his blue eyes wide in surprise, and his bare feet slid out from under him. He dropped behind the island like he fell through a trapdoor, one arm flying out to try to catch himself as a jar of peanut butter went bouncing across the floor. Maybe he wasn't gracefully perfect at everything after all. Justin ran over, and I followed, stopping to tap the music off on the wall console by the door.
"Are you ok?" Justin asked, standing above him. I walked around the other side of the island, and JC blinked up at us, rubbing the back of his head as Justin and I both held hands out to him. We were both giggling, but trying not to, and JC grinned sheepishly.
"Yeah, I, uh, I guess I got the wind knocked out of me," he said, still rubbing his head. His grip on my hand was firm, but his hands were soft, like Justin's. His fingers were longer, more delicate, and I could feel the difference as he let go of both of us. "I didn't realize you guys were here."
"We were upstairs unpacking," Justin said.
"In the bedroom," I added, and cringed inside. Damn it, JC already had me on the defensive. If I couldn't feel at least equal to him when he'd just fallen on his ass on the floor, this was never going to work. His smile slipped a little when I said that, though, and Justin caught it.
"I hope you don't mind," Justin began plaintively. "I mean, all my stuff was in there already, and."
"No, it's no problem," JC said brusquely, turning away. "I better finish getting these put away, before the cold stuff goes bad."
Yeah, because the milk might spoil in those ten extra minutes that he might waste making small talk.
"Are you sure?" Justin asked, reaching out to touch his shoulder. JC, as if sensing it, moved away to put something in a cabinet. "You don't mind?"
"No, of course not," he said, shaking his head. Neither of us could see his face, but his voice was flat and emotionless. "This is your home, and you're welcome to any part of it. I didn't invite you back to half the house, Justin."
"OK," Justin said, glancing at me. He looked a little sad, but honestly, what could he have expected? I didn't think JC would be wildly enthusiastic knowing that Justin and I were sharing the same bad, and even though he was obviously upset I had to give him some points for trying to be nice about it. "I think I'm going to go call some people, let them know I'm back here, instead of at Joey's, in case anyone needs to reach me. JC, thanks again for inviting us back. It's really nice to be back in my own house, with, you know, the two people who are most important to me."
"You're welcome, again," JC said, shrugging. He was looking down at the groceries, not making eye contact with either of us as he went about putting them away and the two of us stood watching him like it was somehow entertaining. "I wish you'd stop thanking me, though. It's still your house, and you have every right to be here."
"I know," Justin said, nodding. "But you didn't have to stay."
And he could still leave if things were really that uncomfortable for him, but I felt as if pointing that out might be counterproductive. JC turned, his eyes probing Justin's face, his expression, as always, maddeningly hard to read.
"I, you're welcome," he said finally, and turned back to the groceries. Justin looked at me, and I turned, starting out of the kitchen as he followed.
"I'm going to go to the music room and make those calls, ok?" he asked, and I nodded, even though I was wondering why he couldn't make them from the bedroom. As if reading my mind, he answered the question I didn't ask. "I don't want my mother to hear you in the background, because it will just piss her off. I don't really want to get into it with her, you know? I just want to tell her I'm here and then get off the phone, since she still hasn't apologized."
I wanted to ask him if he really thought there was any possibility of a short phone call with his mother, but if this was what he wanted, then fine. I would go back upstairs, and he could come find me when he was done.
"I'll be up unpacking if you need me," I said, shrugging, as if it didn't bother me in the least. It shouldn't have, really. I mean, I know he has a right to privacy, and that I didn't need to hear every word he said or to have him in sight at all times, but knowing that he was more or less hiding me from her left me feeling the same way I had the other day when he asked me to go out the side door at Johnny's house, so no one would notice me. Not only was I bothered by that feeling again, by the sudden shove off to the side, but I was also bothered by the way that he did it so casually, as if it wasn't worth a second thought, or it never occurred to him that I might feel this way. I guess I could point out that he was at a disadvantage since I hadn't told him, but part of me also thought he should have noticed on his own.
Maybe Joey was right, and Justin really did always put his own needs first and get what he wanted before he worried about anyone else. Or maybe I was just being stupid. I mean, it was only a phone call, right? I didn't really get any time to think about it, although in my case that would probably be more like brooding over it, because the second I picked up the shirt I had dropped on the bed to go downstairs I heard a tap at the open door. When I looked up JC was there, waiting politely in the hallway for me to invite him in.
"Hey," I said, looking up. He showed no sign of moving. "Come on in. Did you need something?"
"No, not really," he said, stepping inside. He leaned on the wall by the door, his hands in the pockets of his fashionably faded jeans. I wondered how many times a day he changed his clothes, as he now had shirt sleeves, rather than the arm baring top he'd been wearing at Joey's. "I just wanted to talk to you, you know, say hi and stuff."
"Hi," I said, giving him a small smile. I dropped the folded shirt into a drawer, and suddenly realized that I was filling the dresser he had just emptied. I stood up, realizing that we could either keep tapdancing around this, or try to be a little mature about it. "This is really awkward, JC."
"I know," he said, nodding. "I don't want you and I to feel weird about each other, but I don't know if we can really avoid it, can we?"
"I don't think so," I sighed, shaking my head. "I mean, seriously, it's not like you and I would have been friends if not for, you know."
"Yeah, I know," he said. "I was just thinking that we could try to clear the air between us a little, maybe make the best of this? I know how important Justin is to you, and he is to me, too. I never meant for him to be unhappy."
"But you can't have thought that cheating on him would make him happy," I blurted. He flinched, and I realized I'd done it again. He was here trying to help make the best of an awkwardly tense situation, and I was making it worse by opening my mouth before actually thinking about the words spilling out of it. "JC, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that, but you've just, what you did to Justin hurt him so much, and when I met him, he was miserable. I know that you're hurting, too, but you did that to him, and knowing that makes me a little hostile toward you, I guess. I'm sorry, though. I have no right, really, to bring that up. It's between you and Justin, and I had no business talking about it."
"I know what I did, Chris," he said sadly, looking down. "Ignoring it won't change what I did to Justin, and to what we had."
He turned away, his face pinched, finally looking less cute, less than perfect. I'd finally managed to put a chink in his armor, but this wasn't the way that I wanted to do it. I didn't mean to hurt him, or to rub Justin and I as a couple in his face.
"JC," I began, meaning to apologize again, but he turned, his face clearing. The little beard strip would have looked strange on anyone else, but on him it somehow looked ok.
"This isn't why I came in here, and it's not going to do either of us any good to dwell on it," he said, shaking his head. He spread his hands, holding them out toward me, and gave me a small, toothless smile. "How long are you staying? I don't mean both of you, I mean you. How long are you staying down here?"
"Justin and I didn't really pick a time," I said, shrugging. "It won't be more than a week or two, though. I have to get back to the store at some point. I'm sure I'll be back after I check in at home, though."
"And you'll stay here when you're in town," JC said. It was a statement, not a question. "At least for now, this is Justin's home and mine, too, and I want you to be welcome here. I don't want you to feel awkward, so, like I said, I wanted to clear the air between us, and I guess I'll start by telling you I'm sorry for something I said to you before."
Wait, wasn't I supposed to be apologizing?
"You haven't said anything bad," I said, confused. "You've been, like, super polite. I'm the one who keeps saying stupid things. What do you have to apologize for?"
"What I said about your watch," he said, his eyes fixing on my wrist for a second. I was just starting to get used to the watch being there, since it was only a little heavier than my old one. "The other day I said that I had one just like it, from Justin, and I realized later that, I don't know, that you probably took that the wrong way."
"How do you think I took it?" I asked curiously.
"If I were you, I would have taken it as a slam, and that's not how I meant it," JC said. "I wasn't saying it like I had him first, and I had a watch already, and everything else. I wasn't trying to stake a claim, or to make it sound like you were a replacement for me. Honestly it just kind of popped into my head and fell out of my mouth, and I wanted you to know that. I didn't mean anything bad by it."
"Well, thank you, JC," I said. I wasn't sure I trusted him completely, since I still didn't know for certain why he had invited Justin back no matter what he said, so there was no point in letting him know that what he suspected really was more or less what I'd thought.
"I think, um, I'll let you just get settled in, then," he said, smiling a little wider now. "If you need anything, and Justin isn't around, feel free to ask me. And, you know, please, make yourself at home."
"Thanks again, JC," I said, going back to my suitcase. He started to walk away, and I realized I needed to know something else, just for my own peace of mind. "Hey, if I do need you, which bedroom are you staying in?"
His mouth tightened a little. I couldn't say for sure why I was asking, honestly. I didn't want to track Justin's movements through the house to see how close to JC he was, or think about whether or not JC could hear us in the middle of the night, but part of me just wanted to know. Maybe I was just trying to get settled in, to learn the lay of the land, as they say. Either way, the look cleared JC's face almost as quickly as it had appeared, and he pointed down the hall.
"I'm the first room at the top of the stairs," he answered. "Just knock if you need anything, ok?"
"Yeah, thanks," I said, nodding. "I will."
I heard JC walking back down the hall to his room, followed by the sound of his door closing and then the beginning of soft, jazzy music. His door was several rooms away from ours, two bedroom suites, to be exact, so he must have had it on pretty loud for me to hear it. I started to wonder if something might be bothering him, but then figured that I already knew the answer to that. Whatever he said about wanting Justin to be happy, it still had to be hard for him to have me here, too. I didn't want to force the issue by going to talk to him, so I figured if he was going to deal with it himself behind closed doors, the least I could do would be to respect that.
On the other hand, the music was interesting, and a nice change from all the pop, R and B, and techno that Justin always listened to. After a minute or two of fiddling with the wall panel by the door, I figured out how to get it playing in here, too, and let the soft, smoky sound roll through the room. It was relaxing, even if I didn't listen to a lot of jazz, and I had to admit that JC's taste in this, as apparently in everything else, was excellent. I found myself almost dancing as I finished unpacking, a short chore since I had only brought a few weeks worth of clothing, anyway. I closed up my empty suitcase, slid it under the bed, and looked at Justin's bags, wondering if I should finish those. Glancing at the clock, I realized that he had been downstairs for quite a while, which must mean that he was still on the phone.
On the phone with his mother.
Shit.
I switched off the music, and almost but didn't quite race down the stairs to find Justin. I could already hear him as I hurried toward the music room, knowing that I should have stayed with him. If he didn't want her to hear me, I could have just sat on the couch and been quiet. I walked in at my usual place, the part where Justin was browbeaten and close to tears, pacing and dancing at the same time, holding the phone to his ear in a white knuckled grip.
"No, Mama, JC asked! He did ask! I'm not lying," Justin insisted, shaking his head. He'd been almost shouting, and his voice suddenly dropped to that soft, pleading tone. "I don't lie to you. You know that. I'm not doing this to hurt JC or get back at him or anything else. I just, I wanted to come home. That's all. I just wanted to come home."
He sat down on one of the couches, holding his face with one hand while he held the phone with the other. He ran a hand over his hair over and over, as if trying to comfort himself, and I walked into the room, seeing that he needed me to hold him. I walked up behind him and put my hands on his shoulders, rubbing lightly, more just caressing them than anything else, and he tilted his head back. His bright blue eyes widened at seeing me, and a look of gratitude swept across his face, smoothing out the lines, drying his eyes before he could start to cry again. His body seemed to unlock as I touched him, his shoulders settling as the tension rolled out of him. His mother was still talking, yammering away in his ear, and I could hear her tone, but not her words. She was all wound up again, as she always seemed to be, haranguing and harassing and probably threatening, doing all the things she did to try to grind him down, but when Justin spoke again his voice was firmer, more sure, and I knew it was because of me. He needed me and my support.
I felt a swell of pride hearing him speak up to her again, and just as quickly I felt something else, a nagging little stab of doubt as I remembered what JC and Joey had both implied, about how Justin always needed someone. I ignored that thought and kept rubbing his shoulders.
"No, I don't want you to come over, and I mean that," he said. "Are you ready to accept me? Are you ready to admit who I am, and treat Chris and JC with respect? And I don't mean the way you used to, the smile and the snide talk behind everyone's back when you have me alone. I mean for real, the way you would treat a friend. Then I guess not. I don't want you here if you're just going to cause trouble, and I mean that, mama. I'll tell the guards not to let you in, and it'll be really ugly, really bad publicity."
Oh, he was smart, my Justin. His mother might not like being told she couldn't come over and browbeat him, but she wouldn't do it if she knew he was going to make a scene that might make the papers. She was too invested in Justin's career for that, and he knew it. I smiled, and he leaned his head back, smiling up at me. It was a small smile, no teeth, but I could tell he felt a little better. I kept rubbing his shoulders, getting a little firmer, kneading the base of his neck, massaging his traps.
"Maybe next week," Justin said. I could barely hear Lynn now, and figured she was calming a little. "But I won't come without Chris. I meant what I said to you the other day. Yes we can go out to eat with him! I do it all the time. You don't have to say it like that, and really, we have so many people with us all the time, no one will notice. No, stop that, please. This is who I am, and if you can't treat me and the people I love the way I'm asking you to, then I don't think you can still be part of my life. I love you, mama. Goodbye."
He was standing as he hung up the phone, and I dropped my hands as he walked around the couch. Letting the phone slide into his pocket, he wrapped his arms around me, resting his head on my shoulder as he closed his eyes. As strong as he'd sounded on the phone with his mother during those last few minutes, he was shaking now, trembling with release, and he sighed as I slid my arms up his back, holding him tightly. He wasn't crying, which was good, and we rocked back and forth a little as he just breathed deeply, sniffing at my hair as he nuzzled at the side of my neck. I could feel his heart thumping, and I did my best to comfort him with my touch, feathering my fingertips up and down the sides of his face, running my hands down his arms and in circles around his back, moving my head a little, too, as he nuzzled me.
"It's ok, baby," I whispered, my mouth close to his ear. "I'm here if you need me."
"Thanks," he whispered, still not opening his eyes. His hands tightened around my shoulders suddenly, pulling me tightly against him, pressing the fronts of our bodies together from our shoulders all the way down to our knees. Justin thrived on touch, and I knew that he was recharging himself, drawing the kind of support that he needed.
"Do you need to talk?" I asked. "You don't have to."
"Why does she make everything so ugly?" Justin asked. He tugged me toward the couch with his body, and I followed, sitting down next to him. He pushed me down into the cushions, and I settled back as he drew his legs up under him and laid his head on my chest. It was something I would have expected from a much younger person, but I'd noticed a while ago that Justin seemed to have missed out on his childhood. Either that, or he was stuck in it.
"What do you mean, Justin?" I asked, stroking his hair. His weight was comfortable and warm on my lap, and glancing at the clock I realized that it was getting pretty late. Just once I wanted us to have a quiet day, one we could fall asleep at the end of rather than collapsing in emotional or physical exhaustion.
"She makes everything sound wrong, like it's all dirty or something," he answered, curling against me. He let out a little sigh as I traced my finger along the curve of his ear, and rubbed his face against my chest like a puppy before sitting up a little, so that he could look into my eyes. "She said that I brought you back here, that I wanted to come back home, so that I could rub you in JC's face. She said that I only did it because I wanted to punish him, to get back at him for cheating on me again. That's not why I wanted to come here."
"I know, baby, I know," I soothed, holding him. I knew that Justin wouldn't do that deliberately, anyway, because that wasn't the kind of person he was, but I wondered now if she might be right, and he might be doing it subconsciously.
"I wouldn't ever hurt JC that way," he said, staring at me plaintively. Yeah, he'd never hurt JC that way. Never mind that he would never put me in that position, or that he had promised me that was exactly what he wasn't trying to do. No, the important thing that I, as his slightly worried boyfriend, needed to understand was that he would never hurt JC that way, because JC's needs were so important to me. Oops, there was that jealousy thing again. "She doesn't even like him, you know, not really, and now all of a sudden she's like, 'Oh, you two have been through so much together, how can you do this to him?' It's like she's sharing lines with Chris. She's probably just worried I'll piss him off, and the band will break up. That's all they're ever worried about."
He'd said that before we left Boston, but now that I'd been here and seen the rest of the guys, I had to admit that Justin's viewpoint was pretty biased. Yes, as Joey had explained, they did all worry about the band and their careers, but I'd seen a more than fair amount of concern for Justin, too. He was just blinded to it, as caught up in his own needs and concerns as he said they were. The only one who had really acted like he said they would, bullying and manipulative, was Chris, and even his aggression was directed more at me than it was at Justin. I was the threat, and the real problem here, and kneeing him in the nuts probably hadn't done a damn thing to boost his confidence in me. Justin, as much as he accused all the rest of them of doing the same thing, only saw a lot of things from his point of view.
"They seem to be worried about a little more than that," I pointed out. "I mean, JC wants you to be happy, Joey wanted to make sure you're ok, and Lance wanted to come hang out just to be around you and smooth things over."
"Yeah, but that's the reason why," he argued, shaking his head. I thought it was pretty diplomatic of him not to mention that I'd deliberately left Chris out.
"That and because they're your friends," I said, not quite sharply. Justin stiffened a little, and then turned and stretched out on the couch so that his head was in my lap, pointed up at me with his eyes closed. He looked so angelic, somehow innocent and sexy at the same time.
"I don't want to talk about them anymore, ok?" he whispered.
"OK," I said, smoothing his hair down again. Even with whatever little bit of product he was glopping on it his hair was still soft. "So what else did your mother want? It sounded like you were talking about getting together at the end, there."
"She wants me to have lunch," he answered. "Next week, maybe. She says we need to talk, and that she misses me, but I told her I'm not going without you."
"Justin, I don't want to be in between the two of you," I said quickly, even though it was the same thing I always said. "Your family is too important to risk causing a big rift because of me."
"You were going to stop talking to your family," he pointed out. "Over Matt."
"Yeah, but," I began, and then ran out of words. I would have cut off my family because I knew I was going to spend the rest of my life with Matt. Or, as it turned out, the rest of his life. My hand paused on Justin's head as I swallowed a huge lump in my throat, wondering why Matt was always like an open wound, just below the surface and waiting to be poked. Justin looked up at me, concerned, and I realized I needed to say something. "That was, I was trying to make them understand who I was."
"That's what I'm trying to do," Justin said, pursing those pink lips. "I mean, she knows who I am, but I've never really forced her to accept it and come to terms with it. I think one of the reasons that JC and I weren't stronger as a couple is that I went to too many lunches without him, and let her draw that line. He said he was ok with it, but, I don't know, I think she divided us, and I don't want that to happen with me and you. I want to be firm with her, so that you and I don't end up like JC and I did."
I gave him a little nod, unsure of what else to say. He'd surprised me this morning when I realized that he'd been doing a lot of thinking about our relationship, and considering it on a much deeper level than I thought he had, and now he was surprising me again in the same way. I never thought Justin was stupid, or anything like that, but his surface personality seemed to mask the idea that there was a serious, intelligent mind behind the blue eyes and the pretty smile and all those flashy photo opportunity clothes and cars and friends. In a lot of ways, he was a lot more mature than other guys his age, but in others he seemed to be lagging behind, and I knew that the combination of those factors was one of the things that attracted me to him.
He startled me out of my thoughts by taking my hand and clasping it to his chest. His other arm was thrown out behind him, over his head, and my other hand was still petting his hair as he smiled up at me from my lap. I smiled back down at him, and his face went serious for a second again.
"I'm sorry I brought up Matt," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"It's ok," I said, shrugging. "I, just, it's hard to explain."
"I know," he said, nodding. "I know, and you don't have to. I didn't mean for it to hurt you, if it did."
"You didn't hurt me," I said, shaking my head. I was staring down into his eyes again, almost falling into them, and I wanted to lean down and kiss him. I didn't know if I was that flexible, but I started to anyway, and his tongue slid out a little to wet his bottom lip.
"I love you, Chris," he whispered, staring up at me, his face smooth and expectant, his mouth open just a little.
I felt an answer, the answer I knew he was waiting to hear someday, welling up in my throat, and I started to say it, started to draw in the breath. Right then, at that moment, nothing else mattered, none of the rest of this. I didn't care if I was too old or he was too young or he was using me or I was betraying Matt or any of the rest of it. I just wanted to tell him that I did love him, right then, even if it wasn't enough, or we were doomed, or he was just using me to replace JC. Right then, none of that made a difference, and I just wanted to tell him how I felt at that moment, consequences be damned.
Movement in the doorway stopped me.
I looked up quickly to see JC standing in the hallway, starting to step away. Justin's eyes, following mine, widened, and he sat up quickly, the top of his head almost colliding with mine.
"JC!" I said, too surprised, too sharply.
"Sorry," he said, stepping away. He looked uncomfortable, less than poised again, like he had upstairs when he and I were talking. "I just, I."
"What's up?" Justin asked, now sitting up next to me. We were still holding hands.
"Nothing," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you."
"Did you need something?" I asked gently. He wasn't just thrown off balance. The look on his face was genuine hurt. It really did pain him to see Justin with someone else, and I remembered Joey asking me if I'd thought about what us being here together would do to JC. I tried to console myself with the thought that I wouldn't be here if he hadn't hurt Justin, but somehow that didn't comfort me when I saw his narrow blue eyes glistening in his twisted, pinched face.
"I knew that Justin was on the phone with Lynn," JC began haltingly, almost stuttering. "And I just, I thought I'd come check and make sure everything was ok."
"I'm fine. I don't need you to check on me," Justin answered, squeezing my hand. His voice was firm and almost harsh, but not angry. Still, there was a current there that I didn't like. "Chris is here, and I'm ok. Chris is taking care of me."
"Good, that's good," JC said quickly, his voice so low I almost didn't hear him. He turned away. "I didn't mean to bother you."
He walked away quickly down the hall as Justin and I stayed on the couch, still holding hands, watching the empty doorway as the sound of JC's receding steps carried through the hallway.
"It's been a long day," Justin sighed. I felt his stitches, a little rough, against my palm. "Why don't we head to bed?"
"Sure," I answered, shrugging. I didn't know what else to say, and the moment we'd been about to have before was gone.
To be continued.
Side note: Thanks, everyone, who voted for me in the BBSA's. Your support, acceptance, and enjoyment of this story is always welcome, appreciated, and often surprising to me. I also guess it means a lot more people than I thought are reading this.