I know, it's been forever. It's been so long that I am actually going to do a little capsule summary before this chapter - cheesy, but I'm afraid it's probably necessary.
As always, please do not read this if you have some kind of a problem with gay sex. This is just fantasy and has nothing to do with the real-life people used as characters in the story.
Previously in CHANGES: The Backstreet Boys have been apart for nearly a year and come back together for an ill-fated tour of Europe in the fall of 2001. Internal tensions and jealousies rip the group apart, until Howie finally decides to quit the Backstreet Boys. The remaining tour dates are cancelled and the remaining members are left trying to put the pieces back together. Brian and Nick gave their on again and off again relationship another try during the tour, but that too fell apart, and now Nick and Kevin are in and out of a tumultous affair. In the last chapter, Howie agreed to come back into the fold, and Kevin went to California to try and get Nick to return to Florida.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Time heals all wounds, Howie thought to himself before retiring to bed. A.J. and Dani kept saying that at dinner, almost as though they were trying to convince themselves of it. It just didn't seem to apply to Howie's life. Maria was already sleeping, curled up on her side with some feather pillows around the pronounced curves of her body. Howie sat down gingerly on the bed, making his movements as small as possible, and studied his wife. She stirred up emotions in him he didn't know that he could have, and Howie wasn't sure whether or not he liked it. When they'd met, he had been at the peak of his pride. She fed into his vanity and seemed like a perfect match for the glamourous life he wanted to have. But the more he was around her, the more Maria brought out his jealousy, his insecurity, and his anger. Maybe they rushed into getting married. Howie knew things weren't right as soon as he met Maria's family. Why didn't I pay more attention to those feelings in the pit of my stomach?
It seemed like such a frivolous detail at the time. Maria's family was from Costa Rica and they all spoke Spanish with each other. Whenever Howie opened his mouth around them, he felt self-conscious since he hadn't been raised to speak Spanish at home, as though he were only pretending to be Latino, and somehow this was much worse than just being pure white and Anglo from the start. Howie's family in Puerto Rico had always embraced him with open arms, but they were much different people. Maria's family was part of the upper class in a poor country, and they simply didn't treat people the same way. So before he knew it, Howie was showering everybody with money. He'd always wanted people to like him, and being wealthy was the quickest and easiest way to accomplish this. The more he did it, the less he felt that anybody really liked him at all. And before he knew it, Howie had changed from the pragmatist and peace-maker of the Backstreet Boys to the angriest provocateur of them all. His feelings of manipulation and betrayal ran deep. Howie ran his hand over his wife's soft shoulders, wishing that they would wake up together and just be a young married couple, deeply in love, excited about their unborn child. Instead, Howie found himself wondering if the child was just another way of Maria raising her price tag, just another toy in this game with her, and then he hated himself for having those heartless feelings about an innocent baby, his own flesh and blood. He got out of bed and crept silently downstairs to have a drink. It would be another sleepless night.
It was several hours earlier in California, and the late fall weather had brought out strong gusts of wind blowing off the Pacific ocean, rattling the Spanish blinds of the beach front house Kevin had rented out and swirling sand up in his eyes as he walked down to the water. His quick phone conversation with Brian had made it painfully clear that nobody trusted his motives in this whole endeavour. Or at least, that was Brian's point of view as the betrayed cousin and ex-lover... Nick was sitting on a sodden looking, sand-covered blanket, and frowned when Kevin sat beside him, irritated that his peace was being disturbed. "Aren't you cold?" Kevin asked, picking up the nearly empty bottle of brandy Nick had with him and taking a swig from it. "Nah, I feel just fine," the blonde replied. The wind was whipping his hair around his face. He'd smoothed it back when it was wet, but it was getting a natural blow drying, and little strands of it were determined to snap into his eyes. Now that Kevin had mentioned it, Nick was getting a chill, and he gathered together his bare arms and legs and hugged them all close to his body. "Did you close the door when you went outside?" Nick asked. "What?" "I mean because of Frankie. She might go outside and get lost or something." Kevin rolled his eyes and finished off the last of the liquor. "The cat is fine," Kevin said. "We need to talk, though." "About what?" Nick said absently, staring hard at the waves, waiting for the crests to form, sensing the power of the water's weight when it came crashing down on top of itself. He felt like taking another swim.
"Well, everybody wants to know when you are going to be ready to go back to Florida. I mean, this is a lovely vacation and all, but we have serious business to attend to." Nick just stared at the ocean. "I talked to Brian about it today," Kevin continued. He saw Nick flush a bit and almost cringe when he said that name. Kevin stopped cold, sickened at heart. "Brian," he repeated, and Nick dropped his head down, burying his face in between his arms, resting it on his knees. "You still love him, don't you," Kevin said. Nick suddenly shot his head up and stared him in the face. "I will always love Brian," he said defiantly. "If he would take me back..." His voice lost its certainty. "He's not taking you back," Kevin replied. "He found somebody else. Remember?" "I know, I fucked up," Nick said quietly. "You don't have any feelings for me at all, do you?" Kevin asked. He was trying desperately to crush the emotions rising up inside him, but despite himself, there were tears in his eyes. If Nick couldn't love him, nobody could. Nick had seen something in him nobody else had. "How can you ask me that?" Nick cried out angrily, and he shoved Kevin hard. "Why are you torturing me talking about Brian? You know I still love him!" "You self-centered piece of shit," Kevin said heatedly, "I come all the fucking way out here, you won't talk to me, you won't even sleep with me, and now you're giving me this? Where do you get off?" He shoved Nick back. "You called me," Nick said tearfully, "you wanted to be with me!" "I was being nice," Kevin said. "Well fuck you, I'm through with being nice." He got up to walk back to the house. "Where are you going?" "I'm leaving your sorry fat ass here on the beach," Kevin said. "You can take care of yourself for once." He stormed up to the house, slammed the door, and then locked it.
"Baby, what are you thinkin' about?" Brian's soft voice rang out in the dimly lit back den, where he and Misha had been watching a movie on television. "The usual," Misha replied with a little smile, loving the feeling of Brian's hand toying with his spiky hair and massaging his scalp. "Where do we go from here." "I used to sing a song with that title, you know," Brian said with a twinkle in his eyes, and he sang the refrain for his lover. "It just seems like once Nick gets back, you guys will be so busy, working on the new album and all." "We do have studio time still booked," Brian nodded. "But that doesn't mean I'll be there 24 hours a day." "I know. But I can't just give up my business in New York, either." "Well, when were you planning on going back?" "I told you, this coming Monday. I have things to do. I can't just let things sit forever. I might be freelance, but I still have inventory and orders to go through." "Hey, I understand, you don't have to lay out every little last detail for me," Brian said with a strained sort of affection. "I was just hoping you could stay longer." "I won't lie to you, Bri, it's wonderful out here with you. But part of me feels like this is a daydream, and I need to get back to reality." "What is that supposed to mean?" Brian asked. Misha didn't reply at first and Brian kissed him firmly on the lips, drawing back and looking him right in the eyes. "This is real, Mish. It does not get any more real than this." Misha dropped his head, unwilling to share all of his doubts with Brian. "Yeah, we don't know exactly what is going to happen," Brian continued, "but life is like that. You have to go with the flow a little. Right? Yes, my career is a lot more crazy than most people's. But you want to be with me - don't you?" When Misha stayed silent, Brian drew away from him with a prolongued sigh. "You really make me mad sometimes," Brian said. "You know that?"
"Let me in, Kevin," Nick sobbed, banging on the back door. As the effects of the alcohol began to hit him harder and the wind began to pick up again, he huddled on the sand-covered porch, smacking his legs occasionally when he felt a tiny spider bite him. It was dark by that time and there was no response from inside the house. It felt like the whole world hated him. The wind was sharp and it stabbed his side, impaling him with glinting crystals of sand. "I'm sorry," he cried, "please just let me come inside!" Inside the house, Kevin paced back and forth on the smooth floorboards. The wind was picking up off the water and the wooden blinds slapped against the windows fiercely, startling the cat, who dashed under the couch and lurked there, watching the tall brunet as he marched in his self-imposed formation. Why did I come out here? Kevin kept asking himself. What did I expect from Nick? In a matter of minutes, he went from hating Nick to hating himself. It was a typical transformation; a learned habit which was as worn-in and comfortable as an old pair of sneakers. I set myself up for it, and why? Because I'm foolish ... old and stupid ... unloveable. Something is just wrong with me. Kevin hugged his arms to his body; what was so deformed inside of him that made him so unworthy of human affection? Was it something he was born with, or did it become twisted as he grew up? Kevin shuddered slightly with painful emotion and pushed it hard and deep inside, where nobody could see. He went quickly to open the back door for Nick. But when he swung it wide, nobody was there, just a trail of footsteps in the sand.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
"Good morning, sunshine," Dani said, kneeling on the end of the enormous bed and picking up one lifeless foot to tickle its underside. "Don't," A.J. mumbled, burrowing into the feather pillows and jerking his limb away into the safety of his comforter. Dani laughed; A.J. was babyish in the mornings, unkempt looking and smelling less like his cologne and more like his own body. She slid up beside him and squeezed his waist through the blanket. "Alex, you really do have to get up at some point. Remember, we are going to go over to the studio today with Howie and Brian?" "Mmm," A.J. mumbled sullenly, and he turned around very carefully, face hidden, and hugged Dani to him. The stubble on his chin tickled and scraped lightly over Dani's chest, and she shivered and laughed, and then rested her chin on A.J.'s head as his warm breath sent a variety of pleasing sensations through her body. Dani had her own plans for the day, but they were purposely flexible; she really wanted to see A.J. to the studio and be there in case something strange happened. That would hardly be out of the ordinary. For all she knew, they could arrive and find out that Howie had moved to Vietnam and Brian had taken a vow of silence.
"Alex, I don't see you getting up and getting ready," Dani said in a soothing voice. She could sense by his closeness and by his breathing that he had something else on his mind, but she figured it was more erotic to him to take the lead, so a double entendre was the hint she gave. "You smell so sweet, baby," A.J. said, looking up at her with a smile. Sex always took his mind off any other concerns, and was one of his preferred methods of escape. It was especially nice to have it in the context of a low-key relationship as he had with Dani; this fell very much in the same pattern as his long-term relationship with Amanda. The only problem there had come when she decided a friends-who-fuck role wasn't for her any more. A.J. was trying hard not to think about the possibility of Dani one day making the same demands on him. Dani gazed into A.J.'s beautiful brown eyes, framed by angelic lashes and full of desire. He was a chameleon, that was for sure. He swept back her dark hair and kissed her urgently, letting his cock rub up against her thighs, sliding one hand up the back of her underwear to cup her bare ass. "I love you, Alex," Dani said softly, "you make me such a happy girl." A.J. laughed quietly and began to nibble on her neck, loving the little whining noises she made, the feel of her rubbery nipples, aching to be touched, as they made contact with his bare chest. "I love you too baby," he said in his raspy voice, knowing very well how much this turned her on. Getting to the studio that day was a definite; on time was not so sure.
Kevin was deep in an anxiety dream, running through corridors to find somebody he couldn't find, checking doors which were all locked, and feeling all the time that somebody was behind him, about to catch up to him, about to put their hand on his shoulder, a door creaked open... He jerked awake with the sound and it took him a minute to realise that it was actually a seagull's cry; he had fallen asleep outside on the sand, and his skin and hair were paying a bitter price, dried out by the salt air and rough to the touch. Kevin stood up with a groan and shook some of the sand out of his hair and clothes; Nick was lying on his side, still sleeping, one hand gripping on to a clump of dirt as he dreamt. Kevin shook him gently, and Nick rolled over with a very confused expression on his face. "Kev... where-wha...?" He squinted into the sun and sat up. Kevin came and sat beside him and they both stared out at the water. "Funny," Kevin said. "What?" Nick asked dully, without looking at him. "You would think sleeping on the beach is romantic, and refreshing ... I feel like I slept on gravel and like I'm about to shed all of my skin off my body." Nick just stared at Kevin quizzically. The tall man's dark brown hair was sticking up in parts, dirty and bedraggled. His five o'clock shadow was pronounced and his off-white shirt had only spent one night in the wild, but was already well past its prime. Nick began to laugh, and quickly he was laughing so hard that he had to cover his face and look away before his stomach started to ache.
"It's not that funny," Kevin said, poking Nick in the side. "Wait 'til you see what you look like." "You look like a hobo," Nick squeaked out, still doubled over with laughter. "You look like an after school special," Kevin shot back, and he tackled Nick and rolled him over onto his back. They wrestled around for a few minutes and then lay there amused by their mutual ridiculousness. "I think I'm going to go pee in the ocean," Nick said finally, trying to get a reaction out of Kevin. "Savage," Kevin replied evenly, wanting Nick to be the first to laugh again. "Man-beast." This worked; and Nick's face lit up as he let out a loud, insane sounding bray of laughter. When he stopped, Kevin was still lying on him, gazing at him, and Nick wrapped his arms around Kevin and hugged him. He didn't really know what to say, and so he just stared into Kevin's green eyes, which seemed to dance around an entire circuit of feelings. "I'm so sorry about last night," Kevin said finally. "That was really immature of me, shutting you out last night." "No," Nick said quickly, "I shouldn't have said that to you." Said what, Kevin wondered, but he didn't really want to know, so he just smoothed back a stray lock of Nick's blonde hair. "I really do care about you," Kevin said. "Can't we start over?" Nick blinked away tears and nodded. "Should we try to have sex in the ocean?" Kevin said dryly, raising one eyebrow. Nick laughed again, and squeezed Kevin's hand. "Let's just go inside," he said.
Brian walked briskly into the recording studio, in the company of his bodyguard, and nodded cordially at the two secretaries who peered up over their partitions to watch him go by. He felt very unsettled and he just wanted to get back to work. A little time in the studio was just what the doctor ordered. He was the first to arrive, and he began to tinker with an acoustic guitar which he'd asked for, tuning it while his thoughts swam around his mind. What was it that Misha was looking for in life? It certainly didn't seem to be a partner. He couldn't give anything up, could he? He couldn't sacrifice his precious individuality. Brian frowned at the guitar and wound the string he was working on tighter. Sure, it was a lot to ask for, and maybe Misha just didn't think Brian was worth it. It's not like it's nothing for me, either, Brian told himself. I mean, just being in a gay relationship is a huge complication in my life. Then his conscience told him that wasn't exactly Misha's fault. I just don't know what to do now, Brian said to himself, pressing the belly of the guitar up to his ear as he lightly strummed an F chord; sounded good. Do I kill myself trying to make this relationship work? Do I let it go? If Misha is gone, that means what to me? No distraction from ... Nick ... but Misha isn't only a distraction ... right?
Howie came into the still-darkened studio and saw Brian picking out a few notes on an acoustic guitar, obviously deep in thought. Somehow, it was all Howie could do to move toward him and say hello; he felt guilty and unprepared for the emotional intensity of working on writing music together. He didn't realise that guilt was the pervasive emotion Brian was feeling at that time. Brian had just come to the conclusion that the reasons he had to even consider giving up on his relationship with Misha was all too similar to the reason he had for ending his relationship with Nick. It's too difficult; I can't do it any more. What is wrong with me, Brian asked himself. Do I not have enough love in my heart? I left behind the love of my life, because I couldn't give him such a simple thing? I wasn't even willing to try when the going got tough, and here I am again, discarding another wonderful man I have had the privilege of being with. Brian berated himself silently, letting his fingers pluck at the high thin strings and force themselves down over the frets of the guitar, yielding painful red ridges in his fingertips. It was regret and guilt which seemed to dominate all of his bandmates' mental landscapes. A.J. came into the studio still seeming to cringe under the weight of his perceived failings; his untimely and egotistical decisions which almost cost him his nearly lifelong friendship with Howie D. And try as hard as he might, there was also that regret in his heart for Amanda, and guilt that he might be treating Dani in precisely the same manner.
Kevin sat on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and wearing a loosely fitting robe. He sipped a cup of hot coffee and waited for Nick to join him; it had been too long since they had made love, and Kevin wanted everything to be perfect this time. It shouldn't be an expression of anger, or even of uncontrolled passion; Kevin wanted to be good to Nick, and prove to himself as well that he had his emotions under control, and his heart in the right place. "Nick, are you almost done in there?" The water was still running and Kevin heard some noises as Nick shuffled around. "Just a minute," Nick called back, and Kevin set down his cup and rested his hands on either side of his body, scanning his set of long, lean bare legs. Last night was a painful memory, but Kevin felt as though they had reached a crucial juncture in their relationship. Perhaps they had crossed their proverbial Rubicon and now, something real and beautiful could grow out of the sensual appetite they had for one another. While Kevin day-dreamed, Nick tried to quiet his nerves, staring at himself in the mirror. His last night in Florida haunted him; his complete sexual surrender, at the hands of strangers, had gone too far into the darkest part of his psyche, and Nick was afraid of what would happen the next time he had sex. His physical complaints had gone, for the most part, but Nick still felt unsure of his mental state. However, he felt obligated to Kevin, and knew at some level that refusing him again might leave him totally alone. So Nick fed himself cocaine, by large spoonfuls, hoping that the cold, numbing high would cure everything that ailed him.
"You feel better now?" Kevin was asking, wrapping his arms around him. Nick's heart pounded in his chest and he gasped for air, soaring inside, feeling himself running away from his insecurities with the giant strides of an Olympic champion. "Yes, much," Nick said quickly, running a hand through Kevin's still-damp hair. "I want you so much ..." He lost himself in kisses. Kevin's lips were firm but yielded tenderly to Nick's every advance; Kevin's tongue was delicious, toying with his own, licking around Nick's lips and flicking out to tease his ears and neck. Nick was lying in the comfortable bed, his eyes shut, letting Kevin kiss his chest and stomach, playing with Kevin's hair, trembling all over ... he ran further and further away, transported, feeling blessed, like a light was shining on him and he was special. Wonderful. Deserving of pleasure ... or even of worship, such as Kevin was giving him ... "You are beautiful, Nicky," Kevin was saying, still kissing Nick's soft chest, taking in the scent of the soap which had just washed him clean and soft again, moisturising his parched flesh. "I love you, Kevin," Nick said dreamily, "I love you so much..." Kevin paused in his ministrations; his heart seemed to catch in his throat and he looked at Nick sadly. "You don't mean it," Kevin said, looking at his lover's flushed face and glazed expression. He knew Nick was out of his mind. But Kevin held Nick closely and kissed the blonde on the neck, and then he whispered to him, "I'll tell you a secret, though, Nicky. I wish you did."