Thieves

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.

Mitch stiffened a little, feeling Keith's hand settle onto his shoulder, the fingers digging in a little, almost painfully. He could tell from the grip and the tone that Keith was pissed, and he probably should be. After all, spending the day shopping and then coming to see the concert wasn't quite part of the plan. At the same time, though, Keith wasn't as far into it as Mitch was, and he couldn't expect Mitch to do everything exactly the way they'd planned it. Keith's fingertips were grinding into his shoulder, and as he started to look up he caught Lance glancing at him from the stage. He smiled, sending Lance the message that everything was fine, and he was ok, and Keith raised his hand off of Mitch's shoulder to wave at Lance at well. Lance smiled back at them, giving a little half wave before Joey said something to him, and he went back to what they were doing as Keith slid into the chair next to Mitch.

"Is he going to worry that I'm over here?" Keith asked quietly.

"Why would he?" Mitch asked, smiling despite the fact that his shoulder was throbbing a little. "You and Wade are the only people I know here who aren't onstage, and, you know, you did take me to the hospital last night. You probably just want to make sure I'm ok, right?"

"Something like that," Keith whispered, smiling as well. Wade had stopped watching them as well, looking at some papers on his lap. They were probably some sort of contract for Justin, something that Wade thought Justin should do that he'd convince him of later. "So, Mitch, I'll repeat my question. What the hell are you doing here?"

"Lance and JC invited me," Mitch answered, watching the stage. The guys were laughing, playing around as they waited for the technicians to readjust something. "Dare I ask what's got you so pissed?"

"Do you need to?" Keith asked. "Why aren't you back at the suite?"

"Wouldn't look right," Mitch answered. "They asked if I wanted to come to the show, and there wasn't any reason why I wouldn't. We're having dinner with the guys as soon as they finish up here."

"How are things going with the guys, by the way?" Mitch asked, standing. He needed to drift off in a second, as they didn't really know each other, according to their cover stories. In another minute or two he would be out of the territory of checking on a guy from last night, and into the kind of territory that raised questions.

"Good," Mitch answered. "I'm in with JC, and I've got Lance. Joey'll go along with whatever Lance wants, so I think I'll be ok. They're nice guys, actually. Really friendly."

"Mitch?" Keith asked quietly.

"Yeah?" Mitch asked, looking up at him.

"Stick with the plan," Keith answered. "This is our ticket out, Mitch. This is it for us. I'll be in touch."

"Later, partner," Mitch said, sighing.

Mitch watched Keith walk away, and thought about what he'd said. "Stick with the plan." It was easy for him to say that, actually, since he was the one who'd thought up the plan. Keith was always the one who thought up the plan, telling Mitch who he should call again, and where they should go. It was always Keith who decided who they were taking pictures of, and who they were going to ask for money from. It was Keith who had come up with this plan, too, but it was Mitch who took all the risks. It was Mitch who had to throw himself in front of a moving car, not Keith. When they'd thought it up, that had seemed sort of ok, but after last night, after actually doing it, Mitch wasn't so sure that Keith actually did have his best interests in mind.

What if it hadn't worked out?

What if Mitch had been seriously hurt, or even worse? What if Lance hadn't braked in time? What if he'd jumped in front of the wrong car? Would Keith have helped him, or would he have just left him in the street, agreed to whatever Wade wanted? Mitch knew, without even thinking about it, that it would have been Wade who voted for them to leave him, and he was starting to think that Keith would have gone along with it. Keith and Mitch had only been a team for a year, and Keith seemed too damned good at what he did, at setting people up, and bringing in the money. Lately Mitch had started to think that maybe there had been another Mitch before him, another guy who did the screwing, and let the pictures get taken, another guy who walked into strange rooms with strange men. The two of them always split the money, but it seemed to Mitch that he did more than Keith. He did all the hard stuff.

Now it was all riding on Mitch again, Keith's fabulous plan that was going to net them millions. Mitch had to get involved with Lance, and it had to be in a way that would leave their meeting completely above suspicion. Who would believe that someone would throw themselves under a van to meet someone else? After he met Lance, Mitch had to gain his trust, and the easiest way was to get involved with him. Neither of them thought it would be a problem. After all, Lance hadn't been with anyone for a while, he was gay, and Mitch was willing. At the bottom of it all, under all the niceness, and the kindness, Lance was a guy, and Mitch had known from his first day on the streets that guys were all the same. They might be nice, they might buy you things, but they always wanted something in return. Lance hadn't asked for it yet, but he would. They always did.

After he had Lance's trust, he was supposed to go through Lance's stuff, and find irrefutable proof that Lance was gay. Letters, a diary, anything like that. If he couldn't find any, he had to get Lance to write some to him. They needed documentation, not just the usual photos, although they would work on those, too, but a body of documents, a body of evidence that Lance wouldn't be able to argue. The more proof they amassed, the more evidence they could find, the more money they could get from Lance in the end. Keith could have probably come up with proof himself, but he was forbidden from using it, from selling it to a magazine, because of his confidentiality agreement. He couldn't sell it anonymously, and anyone he brought it to anyway would want proof that it wasn't faked. There had to be some legitimacy, and what could be more legitimate than Lance's lover, Mitch? They had to get Mitch on the inside, and then Mitch had to get the proof quick, before anyone thought to start looking into him, or to ask him to sign anything.

The two of them could make millions from this if they did it right, millions. All Mitch had to do was get Lance to trust him, and then betray that trust. It sounded so simple when Keith explained it, when he pointed out that Lance would be just like all the other guys before him. He'd want something from Mitch, because they always wanted something, and if he was taking something from Mitch, it was ok for Mitch to take something from him, too.

"Mitch, you ok?" Lance asked, startling him again. It wasn't his day for catching people sneaking up behind him, that was for sure.

"You guys finished?" Mitch asked. He'd been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed Lance hopping down from the stage and walking over. Lance grinned at him.

"Yeah, space cadet," he answered, chuckling.

"Hey, I had a blow to the head yesterday," Mitch said, laughing. "It's not fair to make fun of me. I'm injured."

"My apologies," Lance said gravely, holding out a hand. "Come on. It's time for dinner."

Mitch took his hand, letting Lance pull him up, and then he folded his crutches under his arms, wishing they hadn't walked so much today. His arms were a little sore, but at least his leg didn't hurt so much now. Lance walked along beside him, waiting for him to need help, but not wanting to offer. He knew that Mitch wouldn't take it unless he absolutely had to, so he would just wait for Mitch to need it. They walked carefully along, past the crowd and around the back of the stage, not speaking until they were in the hallway, out of sight of the fans.

"Do you want to eat with the guys?" Lance asked. "Or do you want to eat in one of the rooms? We could eat in the rec room, or one of the dressing rooms."

"Where do you want to eat?" Mitch asked, waiting for Lance to answer. "I mean, I don't mind either way."

"I'd like to eat with the guys," Lance answered. "They're probably going to ask you questions and stuff, though. Are you ok with that?"

"Sure," Mitch answered. "Sure. I'm fine."

Mitch followed Lance down the hall and into a large room. There were a few tables set up at one of the room, covered with food. There was fried chicken, steaming on a platter, and potatoes with gravy. Ears of corn sat in one bowl, and green beans in another. A large salad sat next to a basket of rolls and a platter of sandwiches. Down at one end of the table were plates, napkins, and flatware, and at the other was a tray of cookies and brownies. On a smaller table next to the food tables was a selection of drinks, juice, soda, but no alcohol, which surprised Mitch a little. He had this picture in his head of all rock stars being booze soaked partiers, but this almost looked like a picnic.

The guys looked up from their couches as Lance held the door open for Mitch to pull himself in. Joey was sitting with someone Mitch didn't know, a younger guy who looked a lot like him, and there was an empty couch across from them. Justin and Wade were on a couch together, a couple of plates on the cushions between them, and JC and Chris were each sitting on a couch of their own. Mitch heard noises from the room next door, and assumed that the staff and crew was in there, eating as well. Everyone but Wade smiled when they saw Lance, although the grins appeared to slip a little as they watched Mitch follow him in. Mitch stood tentatively next to Lance, looking around, unsure of where to go or what he was supposed to do. Joey smiled at him reassuringly, and JC nodded at him.

"Everyone, this is my friend, Mitch," Lance said. "He's going to be staying with me for a little while, ok? Mitch, you know JC and Joey from this morning, and I don't know if you remember Wade and Justin from last night. That's Joey's brother, Steve, and Chris was passed out, so you didn't get to meet him, either."

"Hey," Steve said, nodding. He looked around, wondering why everyone else looked so unsettled, and Joey reminded himself to tell Steve later what had happened last night.

"Nice to meet you, finally," Chris said, smiling. He had spent the whole day, more or less, either in bed or watching television on the couch in his suite.

"You, too," Mitch said, smiling. "You look a lot better today. Are you ok? Do you feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Chris answered, surprised by his concern. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm a little broken," Mitch answered, smiling, and Chris grinned at him.

"Come on," Lance said, tapping Mitch on the arm lightly. "Let's get some dinner."

The others resumed their quiet chatter as Mitch and Lance worked their way down the buffet table line, Lance balancing two plates as Mitch quietly answered his questions about what he wanted. Mitch couldn't carry his own, what with the crutches, and Joey, seeing the difficulty, jumped up and walked over, taking one plate from Lance.

"Here, let me help you with that," he said, smiling.

"Thanks," Mitch and Lance said simultaneously.

"Hey, no problem," Joey said, shrugging. "You want some chicken? How about some of the pasta salad? You want some of that?"

As Joey guided Mitch over to the couch Lance leaned down over Justin and Wade.

"You guys already made out in front of him in the van last night," Lance whispered. "You don't have to sit there like you're afraid to look at each other."

"I didn't think he noticed," Justin whispered, blushing a little.

"It would be hard not to," Lance whispered back. "He was hurt, Justin, not blind and deaf."

Lance walked away, chuckling a little, and joined Mitch on the couch by Joey and Steve. He and Joey began talking about the show Joey had taken Justin and Wade to earlier, and what he'd thought of it. Joey asked what they'd done, too, where they'd gone, all the usual stuff for friends who hadn't seen each other all day. Mitch ate quietly, not really wanting to jump into the discussion, and tried to look like he was focused on his food, but he was watching everyone else out of the corner of his eye. JC was watching Mitch closely, his face blank, but when Mitch's eyes finally caught his JC smiled, and it seemed friendly. Chris was glancing at him curiously, but Mitch didn't sense any hostility there, either. Steve seemed friendly enough, and Justin smiled at everyone, but Wade kept glaring at him, and might be a problem.

"So, Mitch, where are you from?" Joey asked, and Lance and Mitch were both aware that everyone kind of paused to listen.

"A little town down south, in Tennessee," Mitch answered. "I don't think you would have heard of it."

"I thought I heard some southern twang in there somewhere," JC said, smiling. "You have a couple southern boys in here, Mitch. You'd be surprised what we've heard of."

"It's called Alcoa," Mitch answered, not lying. What harm could there be in giving that out, and besides, like JC said, you could hear the little bit of twang left in his voice.

"South of Knoxville," Justin said, grinning. "I've never been there, but I know where that is. I'm from Memphis."

"Oh, cool," Mitch said, smiling at him.

"So you guys are like neighbors," Lance said. He knew it was the kind of coincidental bond that Justin would like, and think it was important, and maybe that would make it easier for Mitch to fit in. Justin grinned, looking pleased, but Wade frowned.

"How long are you planning to stay, Mitch?" Wade blurted suddenly, his voice a little hard. Chris's head snapped toward him, catching the edge in his tone.

"I'm not sure," Mitch answered uncertainly. Again, it was true. "I talked to Lance about it, and we haven't exactly decided."

"He's staying until his leg is healed," Lance said, glaring at Wade. What was his problem? He'd been hostile since the first second he'd laid eyes on Mitch, last night, when he was hurt.

"Are you planning to sue us, Mitch?" Wade asked, ignoring Lance. "Or sell your story to the tabloids?"

"What?" Mitch asked, blinking in surprise as Lance jumped up out of his seat.

"What the hell is your problem?" Lance demanded, spilling his plate to the floor as he stood. JC set his aside carefully as he stood up, stepping between them even as Lance was walking toward Wade.

"Lance, sit back down, please," JC said quietly, pleading with his eyes. Lance nodded, his face flushed, and JC turned the other way as Joey stood as well. "Wade, shut up, please."

"I don't have to," Wade began, and Justin put a hand on his arm, his face pinched. He hated fighting, hated seeing his friends argue, and when it came down to Wade against the others, as it sometimes did, he never knew which side to take.

"Shut up," JC repeated, glaring at him.

"Steve, why don't you, um, take Mitch around?" Joey said. "Get him his passes from security, take him out to your seats, grab yourselves some drinks and t-shirts or something from one of the stands, you know? We're going to have to start getting ready soon."

"Yeah, sure," Steve said, understanding immediately. He stood, and guided Mitch toward the door as Mitch looked around uncertainly. Just as they were about to step out, Lance walked over, and followed them into the hall.

"Mitch, don't listen to Wade," Lance said quietly. "You're welcome here. You're my guest, and this is all going to be ok."

"Look, Lance, I don't want to be a problem for you, ok?" Mitch sighed. "I mean, I don't want to come between you and your friends, and if he doesn't want me around, maybe I shouldn't be around."

"I want you around," Lance said. "It doesn't matter what Wade wants. Steve, take care of him, please?"

"Sure," Steve said, shrugging. Lance went back into the room, and Steve turned to Mitch. "So, Mitch, it sounds like you have an interesting little story going. Care to share?"

"It'll take a little while," Mitch said. Everything from Keith said that Steve was safe, and should be treated like a band mate. He usually came with Joey on tour, but wasn't on this one, which was good.

"We have plenty of time," Steve said, smiling. "Let's go get some drinks and find our seats. Ever been to the VIP seating?"

Inside the room, Lance went back to his seat next to Joey, glad to have his friend here. They were all friends, but Joey was his best friend, and would support whatever Lance did. Chris was watching with interest as JC crossed back to his own couch, sitting back down, but still holding the room. Justin looked a little shaky, pale, like he always did when anyone started arguing, and Wade was just glaring back at JC. The tension was thick, like a cloud, swirling through the room, and none of them would be ready to go onstage if they didn't deal with it right now.

"Obviously we all need to have a talk, together," JC said. "If only to keep things like that from happening again."

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Lance barked at Wade, and Chris's eyebrows popped up. Lance never swore, ever.

"Oh, yeah, I'm the one with the fucking problem," Wade snapped, feeling Justin's hand on his arm.

"That's enough," JC said, firmly. "No swearing, please. Now, Wade, whether you like it or not, Mitch is staying with Lance for a while. It's Lance's decision, and I happen to agree with him."

"You what?" Wade asked, stunned. "Are you both stupid?"

"Hey!" Chris yelped. "Wade, that's not necessary."

"I think it is," Wade countered. "Lance, what the hell is this guy doing here? Do you see how much of a problem this could be for us?"

"He's not going to cause any problems," Lance said, bristling at the word "us". "He doesn't even want to be here."

"Then you should let him go!" Wade snapped. "Why the hell is he even here? He's a complete stranger, who we know nothing about, and you're just going to let him run around with us?"

"Baby, please lower your voice," Justin said, his eyes fixed pleadingly on Wade, his voice trembling a little. Wade caught it, and turned to Justin, hugging him with one arm.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry," Wade whispered, kissing Justin on the cheek.

"Justin's not the only one you should be apologizing to," Joey said quietly, handing a bottle of water to Lance. Wade just glared at him.

"As I was saying, Wade, before you interrupted, I think this is the best thing we can do," JC said, crossing his arms. "Like it or not, I think there are a few things you haven't considered. First off, you might think Lance has put us all in jeopardy, but he's not the only one. We're all to blame on this."

"What?" Justin asked.

"He's right," Joey said. "JC and I left you guys at the club, when one of us should have stayed. Chris had too much to drink. Lance was driving when he should have made Keith do it, and Wade, you thought up a coverup that Justin and Lance went along with. We all know this, and we've been all over it, even if we haven't been in the same room together. Everyone in here is to blame for the situation we're in."

Wade didn't say anything, crossing his arms and leaning back against Justin.

"Look, I know that none of you really know Mitch," Lance began.

"Neither do you," Wade said, but a glance from JC silenced him.

"I was saying that, um, Mitch is a nice guy," Lance said. "He didn't really know who we were, until I told him. He doesn't want anything from us, you guys, but I want, um, I want to help him. He doesn't have anything, ok? He's on the streets, and he has nothing, and I want to help him."

"So do I," JC said. "You guys didn't exactly do the right thing last night. You tried, and you did the best you could, but this is our chance to make up for it. Lance wants to help him get back on his feet, and I think we should, too."

"Do we have to have him right here for that?" Wade asked, concerned, as always, about how this might affect Justin. "It's just, it doesn't seem smart to have him running around."

"I think that's the point," Chris said. "We don't want him running around. I'm willing to go with Lance's judgment on this, at least to a point. From, you know, a more skeptical standpoint, we should probably keep Mitch in our good graces. Every minute that's gone by since we hit him and covered it up is just a minute deeper into this we are. The longer we wait, the worse it looks when this comes out. From here on out, our best bet is damage control."

"Chris, he's not going to do anything to us," Lance said, his voice rising a little. "He's not like that."

"I'm not saying that he is," Chris said, holding up his hands. "I'm just saying just in case. That's all, Lance. Just in case. If this is the plan that you and JC want to go with, I'm in, too."

"So am I," Joey said. "He seems like a nice kid, and I think we could give him a break. I also think, more or less, we're obligated to. Not for the reasons you guys are thinking, because he might sue us or something, but because of what happened. We shouldn't just make it right, shouldn't just square it up. We should make it better."

"And he's not a bad guy," JC added. "I've spent the whole day with him and Lance, and I have to go with Lance on this one. He doesn't want anything. He's not after money, guys. He could have cleaned Lance out at the mall today, and he didn't. Maybe we don't know him, yet, but I talked to him this morning. He's got a lot of pain, a lot of hurt, and I think we should help him. It's the right thing to do."

"I think we should, too," Justin said quietly. "Wade, we should let him stay."

"Looks like it's unanimous," Joey said, his eyes ticking around to his bandmates, deliberately not stopping on Wade. He knew that Wade caught it.

"I'm not going to be his friend," Wade said. "I'm not going to like him. I'll go along with this, but I'm not going to like it."

"You don't have to," Lance said, frowning. "Just stay out of the way."

JC sighed, shifting on his couch a little.

"Now that we have the first point settled, there's something else we need to deal with," JC said. It was hard, sometimes, being the group leader, always being the responsible one, but it was his job, even if he didn't like doing it. "We need to patch up the hostilities. Wade, Lance, I know you're a little pissed at each other right now, but we have a show, and a tour, and a job, and we're all friends. Friends get mad at each other sometimes. If the two of you want to ignore each other, that's fine. If you want to talk it out later, that's fine, too, but no more arguing, ok?"

Lance and Wade both looked away, both knowing that JC was right. The choice was made, and they'd all agreed to live with it. If they kept sniping at each other, kept tearing at each other, it was just going to cause trouble for everyone. They'd both deal with their feelings on their own, or with each other, without dragging the entire group into it, because that was the way the guys always dealt with problems. Everything seemingly settled, JC checked his watch and stood, clapping his hands to break the tension.

"Come on, guys," he said, grinning. "Let's go do our stretches, do our warm-ups, get changed, pray, and give the best show of our lives. Right?"

"Right!" they answered together, standing. As they began to walk into the hallway, heading for their warmup area as they heard the crew moving to their places, Chris hung back a little, tugging on JC's sleeve.

"You handled that really well, bud," he said, watching the others walk down the hall, slowing them down so they could whisper.

"I feel like a den mother," JC sighed, shaking his head and Chris patted him on the shoulder.

"At least you didn't make them shake hands and apologize," Chris said, chuckling. "You ok?"

"I guess," JC answered, smiling back at Chris. "I'm not sure about this whole thing, though. It doesn't sit right, but I really do think it's for the best."

"Well, we'll just have to watch and wait, then," Chris said, shrugging.

"Yeah, I guess," JC agreed, nodding. They walked down the hall in silence for a moment, watching their friends ahead of them, already starting to run through the show in their heads, and then Chris spoke again.

"I vote we send Wade back to Australia," Chris said. "Just put him on the next plane out, and send him back to the land of kangaroos."

"I second that," JC said, laughing finally.

When they took the stage, Mitch sat back, enjoying Steve's company, and enjoying the show. He'd never seen a concert before, although he'd seen clips on the television, and videos. It was different in person, though, and he and Steve were right up at the front. They could see the guys up close, and feel their energy, and their enthusiasm. Several times he caught Lance's eye, and once, Lance winked at him, grinning, and he knew everything was ok, knew that he was in. Now that he was past the guys, he just had to get Lance.

He'd do that tonight.

To be continued.