Forever

So, last week, I sat down and started writing a story. It was the first time in my life I did any sort of creative writing that didn't involve a homework assignment from school. I had no intentions to publish it. It was just something I felt like doing. However, my good friend Rachel, author of Escape' and Choices', told me I should share. And so, I am sharing with my fellow readers of Nifty. Hope you all enjoy it.

Some of the stories I follow when I can are: Escape' & Choices', Separate Lives', Brian & Me', and recently Kevin & Justin'. If you get time, I really recommend em. They're the authors I tend to admire the most.

A note of advice: if you're looking for a lot of sex, look elsewhere. While there may be some sex going on, it will be later in the story. I can't really say when because the story seems to just evolve on it's own. I don't really set the pace.

Feel free to e-mail comments. Constructive criticism will be appreciated. I will try to answer, although it will be a little iffy depending on my schedule. I have more parts to the story than what is being posted here. If I get enough interest, I will continue to post them. Otherwise, I will horde them all for myself and not share anymore.

DISCLAIMER ---------- This story is completely in the mind of the author and is not intended to reflect the actual personalities or sexualities of the Backstreet Boys. If any member of BSB is gay, it's their life and their business, not mine. Don't read this story if you're too young in your corner of the world. Don't read this story if it's illegal in your corner of the world. No hamsters were filmed during the filming of this movie, etc. etc. etc.

Forever -------

Prologue

The rhythmic hum of the windshield wipers and the steady beat of rain against the car were the only sounds around me. The rainfall had been increasing since it began about half an hour before.

It seemed so strange to me that it was raining in January. I had grown up in the northern plains of the western U.S., a few hundred miles east of the Rocky Mountains. It had long been a joke in my hometown that there were truly only two seasons in the year: winter and August. Snow in July was far more common than rain in January.

"I guess I'd better get used to this," I thought to myself.

I had been on the road for three days now. I was on the last leg of my cross-country journey from my most recent home in Denver, CO to my new home near Tampa, FL. I was due to start a new job there the following Monday, which gave me another few days to get to town and get settled in. I had left Gainesville an hour before, having taken a chance to stop there and party with a few old college friends.

I was surprised at how fast traffic was moving down I-75, given how hard the rain was coming down. I had been pretty disgusted when it started, thinking that traffic would slow down and I'd be stuck on the freeway even longer. The fact that no one even seemed bothered by the rain was great, as it meant that I could still make it to Tampa in a decent time. Plus, I loved to speed, anyway. What can I say? The Grand Prix was super-charged and made to go fast.

I was probably lucky that I had been a little extra cautious in leaving extra space between my car and the one in front of me. The brake lights on that car suddenly lit up. I quickly hit my brakes, also, as I could tell the car in front was coming to a stop. I felt the car start to slide a bit on the wet pavement. Fortunately, the ABS on the Grand Prix helped keep me under some control.

Unfortunately for me, the bus behind me didn't have that luxury, as a sharp lurch and the scream of tearing metal proved an instant later.

Chapter 1

The first thing I noticed was the light. It was the kind of warm glow that you might see just before the sun comes up in the Rockies on a crystal clear August morning. Soft and warm and relaxing, coming through my closed eye lids.

The second thing I noticed was pain. Everywhere on my body. I felt a deep throbbing pain all over, as though some cosmic being had decided it'd be fun to stick my body in a large vice grip and start squeezing the plates together.

"Unnnnhhhh," I moaned, as I tried to open my eyes.

Through the haze of pain, I could feel someone touching my hand. I lifted one eyelid, trying to adjust to the brightness in the room. I tried to lift my arm up to shield my eyes, but learned that was a huge mistake pretty fast. Sharp, stabbing pains are such great teachers.

I slowly blinked my eyes, trying to clear out the haze so I could see who was in the room with me. It felt like my eyelids were the only part of me that I could move, and even they were protesting the action pretty sharply.

My eyes finally decided they could stand the light, and I looked to my right to see who had latched on to my hand. To my surprise, it was my mother.

Great!' I thought. What else can go wrong?'

I guess I should back up and explain a few things. My name is Dylan. Dylan Jacob Weston, actually. I'm 26, stand pretty tall at about 6'5", and weigh in around 200#. My usually-brown hair was currently dyed black with the tips bleached out and cut in a short, messy spike (think Lance from `NSync with a multi-colored bottle job). My eyes change color from green to blue to stormy grey, depending on my mood. I've been told I'm cute, but it was friends who told me that, and they could've just been lying to spare my feelings. Friends'll do that, ya know.

I have known I was gay for as long as I could remember. However, given that the average population of my hometown was smaller than the line at a Denver McDonald's during lunch rush, and most of that population viewed Billy Graham as "too liberal", I had pretty much avoided the idea while growing up. Where most boys experience the "gay phase" during puberty, I went through a "straight phase". I like to think of those as the dark years. Fortunately, I got past `em.

1999 had been a pretty shitty year for me. I had finally come out to my parents in July, shortly before my older brother walked down the aisle. I figured it'd be less difficult for them to deal with if they had a happy occasion like Jeremy's wedding to distract them a bit. I don't think I've ever been quite so wrong before in my life.

Spending twelve days together while all the wedding "festivities" were going on was pretty much hell on earth, not only for me but also for my parents. Whereas I thought they'd be too happy for Jeremy to get very upset with me, they decided that his wedding was a perfect reminder of everything I would never give them. You know, the daughter-in-law, 2.5 grandkids, and a nice house with a white picket fence and a spare bedroom for them to stay in. I think they realized that wasn't likely to happen anymore. At least, not like they pictured it, anyway.

Once the wedding was done, I returned to my life in Denver, vowing to stay away from any and all family issues until my parents had left the cave they were living in. Have you ever noticed that the universe rarely cooperates when you make plans?

Grandma lost her battle with cancer in September. It was particularly hard on me, as I had spent most of my vacation time the last five years visiting her in Phoenix. I was probably the closest to her of anyone in the family at that point. She was one of the first people I ever came out to, and, unlike her son and daughter-in-law, didn't resent me for something I couldn't control. She was one of the wisest people I've ever known. She also smoked like a chimney for 55 of her 69 years. It finally caught up to her.

So, I was once again faced with several days in close quarters with my parents, this time along with the stress of a funeral to really rub things raw. The funeral trip ended with a pretty huge shouting match between my Dad and I. Push came to shove and I walked out, slamming the door and getting in my car to return to Denver. I hadn't spoken to them since.

My job sucked. Corporate crap had left me bouncing around from project to project most of the year, never getting to just settle in and enjoy anything. I dreaded getting up every day. I made pretty decent money as a programmer, but money can only get you so excited at getting up at 5:00am day in and day out for that rush hour commute.

And then there was my social life. Or total lack of a social life. I hadn't been on a date in two years. I knew very few gay guys, and those I did know were better at being women than most of the women I knew. That wasn't really for me. Unfortunately, that whole concept of meeting people through other people kind of fizzled since most of my pals were straight and I was the one token gay man that they all knew.

As the year drew to a close, I decided it was time for a change. You know, new year, fresh start, that kinda thing. I was sick of whining about my problems and decided that I needed to get up and do something about them. As much as I enjoyed Denver, I needed to get out and see the world. So, I started to look around for new work and a new life.

I eventually settled on Florida. I'd always thought it would be kinda cool to live on the coast after the near-desert climates of my childhood. And, since I was something of a space geek, I thought it would be fun to live near Kennedy Space Center so I could catch a shuttle launch or two. And, way deep inside, I had a silly, childish, secret reason for wanting to go there: I was a major fan of the Backstreet Boys.

I had enjoyed their music since Quit Playing Games' had been released. But, my real interest didn't begin until I first heard I Want It That Way' on TRL. I bought `Millenium' the next day, and I can honestly say I'd listened to it at least once a day ever since. I'd even had a chance to catch them live in concert in October. It bummed me out, cause Kevin was hurt due to a snowboarding accident so I didn't get to see much of him, but it was an awesome concert anyway. After it was over, I just decided that maybe Florida would be an.interesting place to check into.

I fell into a job just before Christmas, giving me the holidays to pack up my life in Denver and get moved down to sunny Florida. Since my new company was paying to move all of my stuff down, I decided it'd be fun to drive across the country, as I had never really seen much east of the Mississippi. So, I sent my stuff with the movers, packed up my car with my plants, my computer, and some clothes, and headed off for my new life.

Which brings me back to my current situation.

I just stared at my mother's face. My shock at seeing her must have been showing, cause she winced a little and withdrew back into her chair.

"What happened?" I asked her, my voice scratchy. My throat was so dry.

"You were in an accident on the freeway. Pretty bad, actually, something like 25 cars piled up in all," she responded, as she rose to pour some water for me from a pitcher sitting on the bedside table.

She held the glass up for me to drink out of, wiping my chin for me after some of the water dribbled down. I wondered what had happened that she was once again acting like my mother.

"What are you doing here, Mom?"

"You've been unconscious for three days, Dylan. After they got you out of the car and brought you here, they contacted your father and I to let us know what happened. I got here yesterday."

"Where is here?"

"You're in the hospital in Tampa."

"I don't remember much. Just a lot of screeching brakes and crunching metal. I think the airbag blew, too. How bad was it?" I asked, although I knew from the pain in my body that I'd been knocked around pretty hard.

"Dylan, your car was totaled. The bus driving behind you was driving too close. When you hit the brakes, the bus slammed into you, pushing you into the car in front of you, then up over it. Your car rolled over on top of that one, then fell into the other traffic lane and got swiped by another car there. Your car is basically what caused the pile-up. It took them hours to cut you out. You have a pretty serious concussion, several broken ribs, a broken arm, and bruises over basically all of your body. You had some internal bleeding from the rib injury, but they managed to get that taken care of with surgery."

"Well, that'd explain why I feel like shit, huh?" I tried to joke. I could tell she was pretty upset, no matter what had happened between us before. She tried to crack a smile, although it didn't last.

"Yeah, that's pretty much why," she said.

"Mom, don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here? We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

Mom let out a long sigh.

"I know, Dylan. But as much as I disapprove of your.being.that way."

"Gay, Mom. You can say it. You disapprove of your son being gay."

"Fine, yes, as much as I disapprove of you being GAY," she stressed, staring in my eyes to let me see her disapproval, "you're still my son. I couldn't very well just let you sit in the hospital by yourself."

I decided that now wasn't really the time to deal with this.again. I was tired and hurting, and I didn't have the patience to argue with her about it anymore. I knew once I was out and on my feet, we'd start fighting again, and she'd go home to Dad and wonder how it was that I was her son. But, for now, I figured a truce could be called.

I took a moment to look around the room, trying to gather my thoughts. It wasn't bad, as hospitals go. I had somehow managed to get a single room, which was cool. It'd be my luck to get a roommate who believed that TV programming had reached its peak with Jerry Springer and WWF Smackdown.

The sun was shining in through a large window on the opposite wall. That kind of helped explain why my eyes hurt from the brightness, I guess. I took a deep breath, trying to come up with a more stable topic for us.

"How many others were hurt?" I asked.

I was especially concerned about those on the bus. Even though the bus had been the cause of my injuries, and subsequently this fun trip down family lane, I knew that buses weren't exactly models of safety when it came to accidents. About their only good feature was the fact that they were huge, which really didn't do much to protect the people inside if they came to a sudden grinding halt because they ran into a car. Say, for instance, MY car. I hoped they weren't hurt too badly.

"Most everyone involved got off with pretty minor injuries. Luckily, there weren't any fatalities. Yours actually ended up being about the worst because you were hit several times before the cars settled. According to the news, the driver of the bus got cut up pretty badly when the spoiler from your trunk went through his windshield. I think one of the guys on the bus broke a leg, and a few others have concussions. They were taken to a different hospital, so I haven't heard much beyond what's on the news."

"Yeah, I guess this would be a news-making story, wouldn't it? I can see the headlines: `Chump From Colorado Causes 25-car Pileup'." I hadn't really thought about the press. I'd never been involved in anything that could even vaguely be considered newsworthy, so it wasn't something that I spent much time pondering.

"Yeah, you're famous, although not for the reason you think." She said this with a strange look on her face, almost like she couldn't decide whether she should laugh or be sick.

"Ok, I'm afraid you're gonna have to explain that one to me, Ma."

"Well, the bus that rear-ended you was carrying a local band, one that is pretty popular, I guess. The guys who were injured are part of the band, so the news has kept the story going."

The first thing I thought was "Backstreet Boys". The next thing I thought was "yeah, right! Dream on, dumbass!"

"Lemme guess, I'm being played as the evil tourist who doesn't have a clue how to drive and permanently scarred the favored sons of the Tampa music scene?" She chuckled at my joke.

"No, actually, you're being portrayed as the evil tourist who doesn't have a clue how to drive and permanently scarred the favored sons of the Orlando music scene. And it goes beyond Orlando," she said with what could only be described as an evil smirk on her face. It was nice that she could joke at a time like this!

"Oh, God. Please please please tell me that it wasn't the Backstreet Boys!" I groaned, playing along with her. Unfortunately, she decided to stop playing along and got a slightly serious expression on her face.

"Um..well." she mumbled as she looked away.

"I was rear-ended by the Backstreet Boys?!?!"

Chapter 2

It was dark in the room when I woke up. Someone had been kind enough to shut off the TV. I had been watching the news, trying to see if there was any information about the accident. Although I wouldn't admit it, I was actually trying to see if there was any news on the BSB. Unfortunately, the powers-that-be for the hospital had apparently decided that cable was an unnecessary luxury for hospital patients, so I couldn't check MTV and had to settle for local news.

I still couldn't believe that it had been their bus that had hit me. After Mom told me, I just kind of sat there, trying to absorb it. I couldn't figure out why they were in their bus in the first place. As my admiration for them had grown, I'd started to follow more of their activities via their website. I knew that they were no longer on tour. I guessed that maybe they'd had a public appearance of some kind.

Mom had left around 6:00 that evening, saying she'd be back to check on me in the morning. The tension that had seemed to fade a bit was coming back, and I could tell it was making her uncomfortable. Actually, I was kind of glad to see her go, as it cut down on my stress levels, too, and gave me time to relax.

I lay in bed, thinking. I couldn't get back to sleep. Although the nurses had been kind enough to drug me up, it was starting to wear off. The dull ache in my body was keeping me awake. I think even my bruises had bruises, as the old saying goes.

I was really bummed about my car. I had only bought it a few months before. Brand new, shiny and black and full o' juice. Now it was a mangled heap of metal, sitting in someone's junkyard. Mom had felt it necessary to show me the pictures. I nearly cried at seeing my baby all crushed.

I was also kind of bummed about my plants. I had started keeping houseplants a few years before and discovered a very slight green thumb. I was actually kinda proud that I could keep them alive and flourishing. Also, a number of them had belonged to my grandmother, so they were kind of a special reminder of her.

I was just glad that I had stuck with my plan not to bring my cats on the roadtrip with me. They would've been crushed during the accident. I had raised one since her birth nine years ago, and the other was another gift I received when Gram passed on. I would've hated to lose them, even if I was in major danger of becoming yet another stereotype: lonely old spinster with cats.

My mind eventually drifted back to Backstreet. I was still in awe, I guess, that they had hit me. I had long since admitted to myself that I had something of a crush on a few of them. Especially Kevin. He just struck a chord in me, every time I saw him.

It wasn't just the fact that he was incredibly handsome. I think I had read somewhere that he was voted People' magazine's sexiest pop star for 1999, so I knew I wasn't alone in my estimation of his beauty. I also loved his voice, or what I got to hear of it. I was wishing that he'd been able to put a solo on Millenium' like Nick had done. It would've been cool to hear him do a number alone.

I think the thing that always grabbed me the most was his eyes. They were just.piercing. I've often heard "Eyes are the windows to the soul". With him, I can believe that it's true.

Although they had been one of the (albeit foolish) reasons that I'd moved to Florida, I had never seriously entertained the illusion that I would get to meet the BSB. I had nothing to do with the music business, I didn't live in Orlando, and I really had no reason to believe we had much in common that would bring us together in life. Well, except for scuba diving. I'd read that Nick was into diving. Since I was a certified diver, myself, I guess there was a very vague chance of a meeting him through that.

And now, I had met them, on only my second day in Florida. Unfortunately, I hadn't exactly gotten a chance to introduce myself and fall at Kevin's feet. Nor was it likely that I'd just bump into them in the hall since they were undoubtedly being treated in Orlando. VIP treatment, I'm sure.

I let out a long sigh, which caused a knife of pain to shoot through my chest. I reached for the side of the bed and pressed the call button. A few moments later, I saw the door ease open.

"What can I do for you?" she asked. In the light from the hall, I could see a slight smile on her face.

Lindsay was the night nurse and was, in a word, gorgeous. She had that exotic beauty that many women of Latin American descent had. Deep, dark brown eyes, long thick hair, and a smile that could rival the full moon on a dark country night. When she laughed, she resembled Jennifer Lopez when she played in that movie `Selena'.

"I'm really hurting, and it's keeping me from sleeping. Is there any thing you can do to help?" I tried to keep the whiny tone from my voice, but I was really feeling like shit at this point, so it was tough.

She stared at my face for a minute, then checked her watch.

"I think it's probably close enough to time for your normal medication. Let me go check with a doctor, and I'll be right back."

"Thanks."

"No problem, hon."

Chapter 3

"Oh, Kevin. I've wanted this for such a long time!"

He didn't say anything, just wrapped me up tighter in his strong arms. I had never felt so safe, so loved. It was a wonderful feeling.

I looked up into his eyes. Those eyes that I loved so much. I leaned closer and started to kiss him, lightly at first, then with more passion.

"Mmmmm, Kevin," I sighed.

"Dylan."

That was odd. Why did Kevin sound like my mother?!?!?

"Dylan, wake up!"

I jerked out of my dream and nearly sat up until my ribs reminded me that it wasn't a good idea. I looked over and saw Mom staring at me. She looked like someone had just fed her a plate full of bugs.

"What?" I asked, wondering about the look of distaste she had.

"You were calling to someone named Kevin," she filled me in. I could tell from her tone that she was less than impressed. So much for staying in neutral territory with her today.

"Sorry, Mom," I apologized. Normally, I wouldn't think of apologizing just for dreaming of a man, especially one as hot as Kevin, but I knew that it would only lead to more discussions about my being gay, more heated moral commentary. I was just lucky that Mom hadn't started playing the religion card, yet.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. I started to realize that the pain in my body had faded slightly. I guess that was either a sign that I was recovering or a sign that they were doing wonders with modern drugs. I was really hoping for the former, as I wasn't sure if I had enough insurance for the latter. Insurance.

"Oh my God! What day is it?" I exclaimed.

"It's Sunday. Why?"

"Why?!?!?! Mom, I'm supposed to start my new job tomorrow. I haven't told anyone there about this. And I don't have insurance without a job!"

I was becoming a little panicked. I had finally managed to get my debt to a manageable level. Like most college kids, I had discovered the joys of credit cards early in my college career. Unfortunately, I also discovered the agonies of the bills. Now that I'd managed to get most of them paid off, I didn't really want to get saddled with a couple hundred thousand dollars in medical expenses.

"Just calm down, Dylan. I'm sure that you're covered by your car's insurance if nothing else. Give me the information, and I'll contact your new boss and let them know what's happened. You can talk to them tomorrow and see what the deal is with the insurance. I'm sure they'll understand."

I had to give her credit. She was really trying to make me feel better. It was nice to have her be my mother again, instead of my judge. I wondered how come we couldn't act like this when I wasn't in the hospital.

I told her how to contact my boss, and she left to use the phone in the hall. She wanted to call Dad, too, and I think she knew that I didn't really want to deal with him now. I knew she wouldn't get through to the boss on a Sunday, but I figured she would at least leave a message for them to call me at the hospital on Monday.

I let my mind wander, thinking how this really wasn't how I had expected to begin my "exciting new life" in Florida. Laid up in a hospital, barely able to move, and trying to tiptoe around a mother who was uncomfortable with my life.

My mental zoning was interrupted by a knock at the door. Since I knew Mom would just walk in, I figured it must be one of the staff.

"Come in," I yelled, not sure if I could be heard through the heavy hospital door.

It slowly started to open. I couldn't figure out why it was so slow until I realized it was one of those automated doors, the kind that open when you press a button on the wall. It occurred to me that I should've realized a hospital would be equipped with them. But why would someone on staff use the automatic door?

The foot that came through the door was wrapped in a cast, along with the rest of the leg attached to it. With my angle to the door, I couldn't see who it was, but I could see that they had a full leg cast on and were in a wheelchair. Then they came around the corner. Or should I say `he' came around the corner.

Chapter 4

"Hi," he said with a smile on his face.

"Um.hi yourself," I replied. My voice decided to regress to age 13 at that moment, cracking and scratching like I'd just started puberty. I blushed because I sounded like an idiot.

"My name's Nick. Nick Carter."

"Yeah.I know. Nick from the BSB."

I stared at him. I couldn't help it. I mean, it was Nick Carter! World famous singer. Nintendo playing machine. And a cute young man with a helluva smile.

"Um.hello?!?!" he said, waving his hand in front of him to get my attention.

I blushed again. I was so embarrassed. I had always promised myself that if I ever met someone famous, I wouldn't be an ass about it. I guess that was a promise getting broken here.

"Sorry. Guess I'm still a little dazed from the accident," I lied. Better a little white lie than admit to him I was starstruck, although I had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew that.

"That's ok. It's not surprising. From what I've been told, you took a pretty good blow to the head. Not to mention the rest of your bod!" he said with a chuckle. I started to laugh, too, and it helped me to relax.

"Don't take this the wrong way, man. I mean, it's really cool to meet you, but what are you doing here?" I knew it was kinda rude to just ask that straight out, but I couldn't really help it. I wanted to know, and I'd never been all that shy before.

"Well, I wanted to check up on you, see how you were doing. Our manager has been giving us updates on everyone as he heard them on the news, and the latest was that you were awake. Since it was basically our bus that took you out, I figured it would be nice of us to come see you."

"Oh. That's cool, I guess," I said, not sure how to respond.

"So, how are you doing?" he asked with that shiny smile of his.

"I've been better," I quipped, "but I'm probably lucky to be here at all. It's not often people get hit by a bus and live to tell `bout it, I guess."

"Yeah, that was pretty frickin' crazy for a bit. B-Rok and I were in the back playin' some Nintendo when all of a sudden, there's this huge bang, the bus crashes to a stop, and B and I go flying."

"Gotta suck, man. I take it that you were the one that Mom said broke the leg?" I said with a sarcastic tone and a smirk.

"Yeah, smartass, I was the one! Brian racked his head against the wall and cracked his wrist pretty good. AJ and Howie managed to pretty much get away clean cause they were bunked down. Kevin got pretty beat up since he was up front on the couch, but the doc says he'll be good to go in a few days, too."

"Wow, sounds like you guys had a fun end to the trip, huh?"

He chuckled at me again. I smiled, then dropped it when something occurred to me.

"Nick, you said `it would be nice of US to come'?" He smiled at my question.

"Yeah, `us'. The other guys are meeting me here in a few."

"ALL of the guys?" I was getting nervous again. `Please, please, please, not Kevin. I'd be way too embarrassed to meet him wearing a hospital gown!' I thought.

"Well, Brian's chillin' at home cause he's still not feeling too great. And Kevin's hanging there with him. So, no, not all the guys. AJ and Howie are on their way, though."

I let out the breath that I had been holding. I realized that I must have been pretty obvious cause I looked up and caught Nick giving me a strange glance with those blue eyes of his.

"You all right, man?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine. Great, in fact. How often do I get to meet one of my favorite singers?" I tried to blow off my tension with a little humor. Nick seemed to like that, as he returned my smile.

The room got quiet for a minute. I looked over at Nick and our eyes met. I just sat there staring at him as he stared at me. Finally, he cleared his throat, causing me to jerk away.

"Sorry, Nick. I guess I'm a bit nervous at meeting someone so famous."

"It's ok, Dylan. It happens a lot. Just try to remember that I put my pants on one leg at a time, just like you do. The only difference is that someone else usually picks which ones I'm gonna wear!"

I laughed at that, maybe a little too hard. The image of Nick putting on pants was more than I needed to deal with right then. Luckily, Mom chose that moment to walk back in the room.

"Dylan, your boss wasn't in, of course, so I left a message and," she broke off as she noticed Nick, "Oh, sorry. I didn't realize you had company."

"That's ok. Mom, I want you to meet Nick Carter. Nick, this is my mother, Janie Weston." I introduced the two of them, and Nick shook Mom's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Weston. I was just here checking up on Dylan."

"Oh, do you know him?" I could tell what she was thinking by the look in her face. I have no idea why she'd think I already had a gay lover here. I hadn't even moved in, yet, for cryin' out loud! I just hoped that Nick didn't realize that my mother was assuming he was gay.

"Not really. But since our bus was the one that ran over him a few days ago, I figured it'd be nice to stop in and say hello," Nick flashed one of his smiles at her as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Nick's a member of the Backstreet Boys, Mom."

"Well, I kind of figured that one out, Dylan, but thanks for explaining it to me." It was difficult for me to tell if she was being sarcastic or not. Her expression had become closed since she'd assumed Nick "knew" me.

I think Nick sensed the tension between Mom and I, as he kind of shifted in his wheelchair. He appeared to want to say something, but before he could, there was another knock at the door. Mom walked over and opened it.

"Hi, is this Dylan Weston's room?" I heard a vaguely familiar voice ask.

"Yes. Come in," Mom invited my other guests in. It was AJ & Howie, of course. I realized that AJ was the one who had talked to Mom. That was why the voice had seemed familiar.

We went through introductions and exchanged some polite chit chat, much as Nick and I had earlier. They explained a bit about themselves to Mom. It seemed that most of it was standard PR stuff, as I'd read it in various places since becoming a fan. During the course of our talk, I learned that they had put in a special appearance at the University of Florida in Gainesville, which explained why they were on the bus the other day.

Once I'd relaxed, I really enjoyed talking to them. Especially Nick. He and I hit it off really well, for some reason. We talked about diving a little, and where good places were to go. I hadn't been diving in quite a while, and I needed to take some brush up courses, so Nick recommended a good dive shop. While we were talking, I remembered one other thing.

"How is your driver, by the way?" I asked. He was the only one that Nick hadn't told me about.

"He's doin' good. He got cut up pretty good, but the docs say that he's cool otherwise," AJ answered. I was relieved that he hadn't been more seriously injured.

"Glad to hear it. I had been a little concerned when Mom told me what'd happened to him."

"Yeah, we were all pretty relieved, too. Jackson's a good man, been our driver for a while now, so it woulda been pretty shitty if he'd gotten really screwed." AJ paused for a second and looked at Mom. I think he was embarrassed at swearing in front of her. I thought that was strange, considering what I'd read about AJ and his `wild ways'. It was my first reminder that you shouldn't always believe what you read.

The nurse chose that moment to come in to give me my medication. I was surprised that it was already time for another drugging. Time had flown by as I was talking to the guys.

"Well, we're gonna head out, man. It was nice to meet you," Howie said softly.

"Believe me, it was my pleasure," I smiled back.

"Oh, we know. But, it's polite to say it anyway," Nick smirked. I was beginning to like his sense of humor a lot. Smartass, just like me.

"Thanks for stopping by, guys. It really was a pleasure to meet you. I've admired you for a long time," I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't seem to shut up. Luckily, AJ caught on quick.

"Glad we could make your day better, dude. Catch ya later."

Howie held the door while AJ wheeled Nick into the hall. I could hear Nick backseat driving on AJ as the door slowly shut.

Chapter 5

The next several days seemed to drag by. I was never one to enjoy sitting around that much, and the enforced rest was driving me crazy. What was worse was that I was beginning to believe that TV had in fact reached its peak in Jerry Springer.

Mom came by and spent time with me every day. I was surprised that she was able to be off of work for so long, but she told me that she'd arranged it with her boss. I figured she must have gone over her boss' head, actually, as Kelly tended to be a controlling bitch.

The tension between us was noticeable, and got worse as the days went by. I was irritable from having to stay put, and she was irritable from having to put up with me. We managed to avoid the moralizing and arguments, but I knew it wouldn't last much longer.

Fortunately, the movers arrived in Tampa on Wednesday. Mom went to my new apartment to meet them. I was about half scared to see what she did with my stuff while she was there, but I knew that it was better than having her sit here and stew about my corrupt lifestyle.

I hadn't seen or heard from any of the Backstreet Boys since Sunday. I'll admit that I was bummed, although I knew that I should have expected it. They were busy men, and I was just some guy who was unfortunate enough to get in their way one rainy day. By Wednesday, I had given up on ever meeting them again.

I lay in bed on Wednesday night, unable to sleep. The doctor had said I was improving rapidly. The bruises on my body had started to heal, and my head no longer felt like the percussion section of the Florida State marching band was conducting practice there. About my biggest problem was that my left arm was itching like mad inside the cast. The doc had told me that he wanted to keep me an extra day, just to be sure there were no side effects from the concussion. If all went well, I would be able to leave and go home on Friday.

The unfortunate thing about getting better was that my medication had been toned down. No more happy pills to knock me out, which is why I was laying in bed, wide awake, when there was a knock at the door.

I was surprised to hear it, actually. I knew that it was after visiting hours, so I didn't expect to have anyone stop by. Besides, Mom was the only one I knew in Tampa, which significantly limited the visitor possibilities.

"Come in," I called out, trying not to be too loud. Since official visiting hours were over, I didn't figure my mystery guest wanted me alerting the staff to his (or her?) presence by screaming across the room.

The door cracked open and a head peaked in. It was difficult to see who it was, as the light coming in from the hall cast a shadow over his face in the room.

"Dylan?" I heard a whisper.

"Yeah?" I whispered back, suddenly wondering why we were whispering.

"Can I come in?" Again, a whisper.

"Sure," I said in full voice. I could tell I startled my guest cause he jerked a little, then walked in the room.

I reached over to the control and flicked on the little overhead light above my bed. When I looked up, I couldn't help but gasp as I stared into a pair of familiar green eyes.

Chapter 6

"Hi. I hope I didn't wake you. I'm"

"Kevin. Richardson. Yeah, I know who you are, man," I interrupted him. I immediately realized I was being rude. My experience with Nick had helped me get more comfortable with the whole celebrity thing, but this was more than just a celebrity. This was Kevin.

I shook my head as I realized I was staring. I offered my hand to him.

"Sorry, forgot my manners for a sec. I'm Dylan, Kevin. It's nice to meet you." I was amazed that I was able to keep the tremor out of my voice.

"It's nice to meet you, too. And don't sweat the manners. It's a pretty common reaction to us." As he said this he smiled, but I could tell he was disappointed at my reaction. I got the feeling that he was disturbed by people's reactions to his fame.

"Yeah, I know it is, but that doesn't make it any better," I said with a grin. I was already starting to relax around him. He had a manner about him that just made me feel at ease.

"No, probably not," he agreed with a smile of his own.

"What brings you here, man? And at this hour? Were you afraid if you came during normal hours that the nurses would be chasing you around the bed?" I again resorted to cracking jokes, hoping to show him that I was getting over his fame. He chuckled at my lame attempt at humor.

"Nah, man, not at all. We've been busy the last couple of days dealing with all the stuff from the accident, so I haven't been able to get here before now," he said as he eased into the chair at the side of my bed. I could tell by how slow he moved that he was still feeling a little sore.

"It was nice of you to come, but you shouldn't feel like you have to. I know you guys are pretty busy, and there's no reason for you to spend time comin' to Tampa to see me."

His eyes seemed to cloud over. Had I offended him?

"We're never that busy. Besides, we're kinda responsible for you bein' here."

"Kev, it was an accident, man. It isn't BSB's fault that I'm in here. You shouldn't feel responsible at all," I said. It occurred to me that I'd called him `Kev'. I hoped I wasn't being too forward. Or too obvious.

"Well, responsible or not, I wanted to stop by and see how you were feeling. Nick told me that he and AJ and Howie had visited you the other day. He also told me that you were new to Florida and didn't really know anyone here. So, I figured you wouldn't mind a visitor."

"I do `preciate it. The only visitor I've had that doesn't actually work in the hospital is my mother, and she's not exactly a relaxing visit," I said with a sigh. I hadn't intended to say that, and I hoped he'd missed the tone in my voice. I guess I should've known better.

"Don't you and your mom get along?" he asked.

I paused for a minute, staring towards the window. Someone had closed the curtains, but there was a small stream of moonlight coming in through a crack near the side. For some reason, that shaft of light fascinated me.

My silence must've made Kevin uncomfortable, as I heard him shift in his chair. I turned to look at him and caught him staring at me.

"I'm sorry, Dylan. That was a pretty personal question to be asking, considerin' we just met 10 minutes ago," he said softly.

"No, Kevin, it's cool. I just.drifted for a minute is all." I paused, trying to figure out what to say. "The fact is that until pretty recently, Mom and I had a great relationship. We talked or e- mailed every day, enjoyed each other's company when we were together, and always looked forward to our next visit together. But, some things happened this last year that kind of put a crack in our relationship the size of the Grand Canyon. Before the accident, we hadn't actually spoken in several months."

I hadn't realized before that moment how much the distance between Mom and I was affecting me. I had just moved across the country to a city where I knew no one and nothing, and I had no family to lean on, no one to look to for support. It suddenly sank in just how big a step I had taken. I felt a tear in my eye and quickly looked back to the window, blinking to clear it out.

`God, he's gonna think I'm such a loser,' I thought.

"Sorry to hear that, Dylan. And sorry for butting in," his quiet voice broke in on my thoughts.

"You weren't butting in. It was a logical question to ask. So," I cleared my throat and shifted in my bed, attempting to ease the tension that suddenly filled the room, "how is Brian feeling now? Nick had said the other day he was still hurtin' from the accident."

Kevin told me about Brian and that he was doing better. He also let me know that the driver had been released today, which for some reason made me feel good. At least someone was escaping the bonds of hospital prison.

We talked for a while longer, eventually moving past the earlier stress I had caused.

I began to realize as our talk went on how little I truly knew him, despite the time surfing web sites for information about him and the guys, despite reading magazine and newspaper interviews about them, despite watching hours of MTV just to catch a glimpse of news on them. I had always figured that my image of him was probably 90% fantasy, but it still felt strange to be confronted with that fact to my face.

He filled me in a little bit on life as a Boy. I could tell from the look in his eyes that he really loved it, despite some of the obvious pitfalls. I was surprised when he mentioned that it wasn't his family that he missed the most when he was travelling. That always seemed to be a standard answer in interviews I'd read.

"My family and I get to see each other several times a year, which is probably about as often as most guys my age see theirs. It bothers some of the younger guys more, especially Nick. He doesn't get to see his bro and sisters as much as he'd like. My friends are really the other guys and some of the people on the crew. What I miss the most is actually my house. Having roots, being able to come home to the same bed day after day, always knowing where things are. I've lived in the same house for two years, and I'm lucky if I've spent more than a few weeks there. And when I do come home, it's always to an empty place."

His voice had a note of sadness in it. I knew he loved the performing, making music and practicing his talent, entertaining people. I had never really considered how tough it must be not to have a familiar home to stay in, to always be "wandering" from place to place. And, perhaps, how lonely it could be, even surrounded by millions of adoring fans.

We moved on from the BSB. I didn't want to seem to be interested in him only for that, and he seemed glad to avoid it for the most part.

We began to talk about our different lives. I told him about mine, about growing up in various places around the west before my family settled in rural nowhere when I was 11. He told me about living in Kentucky. It seemed that, in many ways, there wasn't that much difference between the places where we grew up, despite the thousands of miles geographic distance.

I filled him in on my new job and how excited I was to get started with my new life. I didn't really get into the things that had happened the last year that had led me to seek out this new life, 2000 miles from my old one. I really didn't want to put too much of a burden on the casual friendship we seemed to be developing.

As our talk continued, I came to a realization that probably should've been obvious to me already. He wasn't the man I had fantasized about, the hot pop star that I had developed a crush on.

He was more. Listening to his soft voice as he talked about his life was drawing me in, bringing me dangerously close to falling for him. I knew I was in treading on thin ice with him, whether he actually realized anything or not. I knew he was probably straight, and even if he wasn't, he wasn't likely to come out to me any time soon. So, I decided it'd be better not to fall for him. As usual, the universe had other plans.

We must have been talking too loud, because I suddenly heard a light knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, the person on the other side pushed the door open and came into my room.

"Dylan, it's after midnight. You know you're not supposed to have visitors this late!" Lindsay, the night nurse, scolded me.

I knew she wasn't all that serious, as I could see the laughter in her eyes. She and I had had a few late night talks the last couple of evenings, so she knew that I was feeling a little lonely. I don't think she really begrudged me the visitor. Unfortunately, Kevin didn't know that and quickly stood.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said quietly, always the polite gentleman. "It was really my fault. I just showed up to see how he was doing. I didn't intend to stay so late."

Actually, I stopped to think about it and realized that we had been talking for over two hours now. I had no idea so much time had passed.

Lindsay cracked a smile at Kevin, letting him know that his presence was ok. She had a way of putting at people at ease with just a look. I supposed that was good in her profession.

"It's ok. I was only giving Dylan a hard time. You're welcome to visit as long as you don't get too noisy."

"No, actually I really should get going. It's a long drive back to Orlando, and I've got to be up early tomorrow," he said as he turned to me. "We're meeting with our management team. I haven't been seen much in public since the accident, so rumors are flyin' that I'm on death's door or something. We're supposed to plan a press conference so we can let all the `worried'," I detected a note of sarcasm here, "people out there that we're cool."

Apparently, his mention of managers and press threw Lindsay for a minute. She stopped to stare at him with a puzzled look on her face. A moment later, I saw recognition dawning on her face just before she gasped. I could see Kevin cringe a little bit, so I tried to calm her down.

"Lindsay," I said in my calmest tone, "this is Kevin Richardson. Kevin, this is the woman responsible for withholding my meds every night to torture me, Lindsay Sailor. Kevin was involved in the accident which brought me into your life, Lindsay."

My little joke gave Lindsay a moment to compose herself. Her professional manner asserted itself, and she stuck out her hand to shake his. He gladly accepted it and gave it a gentle shake. I was afraid for a second that she wouldn't let go, but fortunately she remained calm now.

`Crisis averted,' I thought with a little smirk.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Richardson. I've heard a lot about you from my younger sister. She's a big fan."

"It's always nice to hear about fans," Kevin said graciously.

He started to move towards the door. I could tell he was ready to go. Part of me was sad to have that happen, but I knew it was pretty much inevitable. Life was moving on, and so I was stuck moving with it. He turned to me just before he left.

"It was nice to meet you, Dylan. I enjoyed talking with you," he said in that quiet tone of his. I loved the sound of his voice and regretted that I wouldn't hear it anymore.

"Believe me, Kevin, the pleasure was all mine. I've admired your work for a long time now. It was nice to get a chance to know a little something about the man behind the music," I said, knowing how cheesy it sounded yet saying it anyway.

"Good night," he said as he turned to open the door.

"'Night," I replied softly as he walked out the door and out of my life.

Chapter 7

I collapsed onto the couch and let out a large sigh.

`Alone at last,' I thought to myself.

I had just returned from dropping Mom off at the airport. She had finally decided that I was ok to be by myself. Amazing, 26 years old, and I can actually take care of myself. Who'd have thought?

But, I guess I can't gripe too much. She had come all this way to see me, in spite of the problems we'd had and in spite of her current feelings about me. Unfortunately, those feelings always seemed to intrude between us, no matter how yard we tried to avoid them.

I had gotten out of the hospital on Friday morning, as promised. I was never so happy to feel sunshine on my face as I was at that moment. I took a second to just enjoy the feeling, realizing, perhaps for the first time, just how lucky I had really been. By all accounts, that bus could easily have killed me.

But, it hadn't. I had survived the experience more or less intact. Not only that, but one of my dreams had come true. I had been given the chance to meet the BSB. Well, most of them. I never did get to meet Brian, but that was ok. While he always seemed to be a nice enough person, he was never one that I really dreamed of meeting. There was always just something that kept me at more of a distance from him as a fan.

Mom was there with a rental car. I had learned the previous day that the Firm, who managed Backstreet, was covering the medical costs for me. I had been pretty surprised, but couldn't really bring myself to object too much. I had also discovered on Thursday that my health coverage wouldn't start until my first day in the office, and my auto insurance company wouldn't cover me in Florida. They didn't cover Florida due to the `natural disaster' factor here. Whatever.

So, when the guy from the Firm called and said they'd cover me since their driver, Jackson, had been following too close for the conditions, I really couldn't raise an objection. As it was, I was going to be saddled with getting a new car, as well as the usual costs of setting up a new household. So I just let them shoulder the medical burden. I figured that the revenue that BSB alone poured into their management more than allowed for it.

Mom and I had returned to my new place. I was pleasantly surprised to see that she had made the movers arrange the furniture for the most part. It was a workable arrangement, at least until I was feeling able to do it myself. I was also pleased to see that she hadn't unpacked any of my things. I wasn't really comfortable having her poking through my stuff.

We spent the next few days slowly settling in. I unpacked the few necessities that I needed for the bathroom and kitchen. I left the trivial things in boxes, figuring I would deal with those when I wasn't so easily tired. I also figured it'd be easier to pound nails for pictures and such when I could actually use my left hand.

I had spoken with my boss again this morning and let her know that I'd probably be in on Wednesday. As it was only Monday, I figured that would give me enough time to recuperate from Mother's visit to be ready to face the working world. She said that was fine, to take whatever time I needed. I could tell I was going to like working for her, as she had a nicely relaxed attitude. Other managers in my profession tend to stress easily over trivial things, making my life and the lives of my colleagues living hell. Fortunately, she didn't appear to be such a person.

Mom and I had finally had the inevitable argument this afternoon. I was lucky it took so long to arrive, as she was due to fly out tonight. Otherwise, we'd have been stuck with each other even longer, and I know that we'd eventually shatter our relationship beyond repair, as had already happened with my father.

I couldn't understand what was wrong between us. I had been raised Catholic, currently non-practicing, at Mom's direction in a fairly conservative environment. Yes, I was gay, but there wasn't anything I could do to change that, was there? I had spent years agonizing over this, wishing I could change, wishing I could be what I knew my mother and father wanted me to be.

But, thanks to a good friend in college, I finally came to realize that there wasn't anything wrong with me. I admitted to myself that there was nothing I could do to change what I was, and I'd be much better off just accepting who I was and moving on. Now, if only I could get my folks to understand that.

Unfortunately, things didn't work out like that. They were raised in a generation where being gay meant you were a happy person, and a faggot was a bundle of sticks used as kindling in old England. They refused to accept that I was this way by nature and not by choice. I was almost insulted that they'd believe I'd be dumb enough to choose to be alienated by society on purpose.

They were stubborn people. I should know cause I'd inherited it from both of them, and so I was twice as stubborn as either one. I refused to give in. They refused to give in. And here we were.

I closed my eyes as I lay on the couch, going over the events of the last two weeks. I had left my home of four years in Denver, moved across the country to a totally foreign place, been in a near-fatal collision, met my musical idols, and once again lost a major battle with prejudice. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically.

I drifted back to my meeting with Kevin, reviewing every word and phrase that he had said in my mind. I hadn't heard from any of them since his visit, so I had once again resigned myself to the fact that we were just ships passing in the night, not destined to meet again.

In a strange way, I was angry with them. Meeting them had basically shattered all illusions that I had about them. I even felt a little guilty that I'd harbored fantasies about them, some of which were of a decidedly personal nature. If I'd never met them, at least I'd have been spared that guilt, and I could still enjoy my fantasies in peace.

But, then again, if I hadn't met them, I wouldn't have had the privilege of seeing what nice men they were. Nick, the fun-loving goof, AJ with a style all his own, Howie with his warm smile and open manner, Kevin.

Well, anyway, I had met them, they'd touched my life, and then they'd moved on. So much the better, I guess. Eventually, they'd have discovered that I was gay. While I doubted that they'd hold it against me to my face, I didn't want to have to deal with the loss if they decided that they couldn't be friends with me, whether for the personal reasons or the public ones. I'd lost "friends" before when I came out. I didn't really enjoy the experience and had no desire to repeat it.

I slowly lifted my still sore body from the couch and made my way to the bedroom. My wonderful, comfy bed was waiting for me, as was one of my cats. They'd arrived today, as well, right in the middle of my argument with mom. I'd had a friend of mine ship them to me once I arrived. It was the arrival of the shipping guy that interrupted us, actually. I'd been having good luck with timely interruptions lately.

I did my usual night stuff, brushing the teeth and checking over my various wounds. I eased out of my clothes, trying to avoid moving in the wrong places in the wrong ways. I had a habit of catching my t- shirt on my earrings, especially the hoop at the top of my right ear, so I was extra careful not to do that. My ears were uninjured up to this point, and I wanted to keep them that way.

I slid between my satin sheets, enjoying the smooth feel against my skin. My cat decided I need a good night kiss, so she came up to lay on the pillow next to my face and give my goatee a lick. I really hated when she licked my hair, but I let her this time. For about half a second, anyway. Once she realized that I wasn't interested anymore, she picked herself up, turned around, and planted her ass right in front of my face. That pleasant image went with me into sleep.

Chapter 8

The ringing of the phone tore me away from the computer screen.

"System development, this is Dylan," I said in a professional and authoritative tone.

"Hey, cutie, how's it goin'?" Lindsay's voice carried to me through the line. I smiled when I heard it.

"Good, dollface, how `bout you?" I replied, trying to match her way-too-perky tone. She knew it bugged me when she was so damn chipper in the morning and was purposefully rubbing it into me. My attempt at subtle teasing wasn't lost on her, and she chuckled.

"I'm doing good. I just got in from a shift, actually. I'm about to head to bed, but I wanted to call and see if we were still on for dinner tonight."

"Yeah, as far as I know we are. Mexican, right?"

"You bet, baby. I know you've been dying to get a taste of somethin' hot!" she said with a laugh. The lack of Mexican, my favorite food, had somehow become a topic of conversation recently. She'd decided it was time to get me to shut up, so she was taking me out tonight.

"Oh, yeah, you know it," I said with a smile. "I'll see you around 7:00 at your place, then?"

"Sounds perfect. I'm off tonight, so I won't have to go in until tomorrow."

"Great, see ya then!"

"Later, baby!" She giggled a little as she hung up the phone. I hung up the phone and removed my headset, shaking my head at her silliness and smiling at my own good fortune.

In the month since I'd been released from the hospital, Lindsay and I had formed a pretty tight friendship. My last night there, she had come in to say goodbye, and we'd ended up talking for quite a while. I'd mentioned that I was gay somewhere in the conversation, and she really wanted to know a lot about how I handled it.

After I got out, she'd made it her mission to help me settle down in my new life. It turned out she was my age, which surprised me in some ways. I always thought medical pro's had more school time than that. We talked on the phone at least every other day, hit the occasional dance club, and just generally got to know each other.

Last night, we had gotten into some of the details of the last year. She was a sympathetic ear that I found I needed. After we'd talked a lot of it through, I felt a lot better. She couldn't replace what had gone missing, but she sure was something good that I really needed.

Amazingly enough, we had also discussed BSB and my thoughts and feelings about them. I had rarely talked about the guys with anyone else. I guess I was a little embarrassed to be known as a 26 year old who loved "boybands". But, she was pretty understanding, and only gave me shit every other visit instead of every visit. She also knew that, no matter what else I may have said, deep down I was disappointed that none of the guys had called me. She knew that I had entertained the faint hope of becoming friends with them.

I took a minute to glance at my cubicle wall. Lindsay had thought it would be incredibly amusing to purchase a BSB calendar for my wall as a `cubicle warming' present. I think she thought I wouldn't put it up. But, I did, just to be a little silly. I even brought her in one day to see the office and check out the calendar. She got a good chuckle out of it, anyway. And I got to stare at Kevin whenever I wanted. What sweet torture.

One other person who hadn't called recently was my mother. I guess that last argument had once again severed the fragile ties that had bound us while I was in the hospital. I let out a sigh at the loss, then shook myself off. I refused to get drug down by the problems with my family yet again.

The day flew by. I was still settling into my job, so there was so much to learn and so many things to do. I loved my new position. I was in a group of about 10 people, so I'd had a chance to meet a few new faces. Most weren't too much older than me, and all were very open and friendly and a little on the goofy side. All in all, the prospects were looking good.

I pulled up to Lindsay's house just before 7:00. I was gonna be an ass and just honk the horn at her, but I figured she'd probably just ignore me until I came to the door, anyway. Why waste my time?

I had also picked up a new car since leaving the hospital. I'd gone with a Grand Prix again, this time a 2000 instead of a '99, but otherwise the same. I'd loved the GTP I had before, so I went with that again. Supercharged engines rule. Watch out, freeway drivers!

I knocked on the door and waited. I could hear Lindsay moving around inside. Actually, it sounded like she'd fallen down the stairs for a second. Then I realized it was probably just Joey, her retriever, bounding to the door to greet me. He was very friendly, as most retrievers were. I could hear him scratching at the door, and Lindsay telling him to settle down as she released the lock and pulled the door open.

"Hey, you," she said, flashing me that brilliant smile of hers.

"Hi, yoursOOOF," I stumbled back as Joey decided to say hello in a very up close and friendly way. Even though I was so much taller, he still managed to get a lick or two into my face. He was full-grown and could easily reach to my chest when he stood on his hind legs.

"Joey, get down," Lindsay said, trying to grab him. She was having trouble getting him down since he was so big and she was laughing so hard.

"Ok, Joey, I love you, too, now get down, buddy!" I was laughing almost as hard as she was. I grabbed his front paws and pushed him down, getting another couple of licks on my face from the obviously excited dog.

Seeing him reminded me of something else I was currently missing in life: a dog. I'd had dogs for most of my life, but I didn't feel that an apartment was a good place for one. I figured a dog needed a yard, no matter how big or small they were. So, I was waiting until I got out of my apartment and into a house of my own.

"You ready to go, Linds?" I asked as she pulled Joey back in the house.

"Yeah, just hang a second while I put him out in back," she replied.

"I'll be at the car, ok?"

"Gotcha. Out in a sec."

I turned from the porch and headed back to my car. My only regret was not getting a convertible. Unfortunately, the designers at Pontiac had never made the Grand Prix into a convertible, so I had to settle for a sunroof if I wanted the rest of the package.

I leaned against the car and took a deep breath. I was already loving the Florida weather. Of course, it was only February, so I hadn't really experienced the bad humidity I was told they got later in the summer. But, I figured no place was 100% perfect, so I knew I'd live through it.

Lindsay came running out, locking the door behind her before skipping down the sidewalk like a 10 year old girl. I just laughed at her, knowing she was doing it to bug me. She liked to play with me that way.

We hopped in and cruised down to the restaurant, windows open and music blaring. This was my favorite way to drive, mainly because I loved to sing along and I figured having the music blast spared anyone else from listening to me. I'm sure I made quite a sight jamming to some GNR or the Crue, but I really didn't care much. I always had fun doing it.

This time, the music was more tame than my 80's hairspray heavy metal' as it was dubbed by one of my college pals. Justin Timberlake was telling us I Want You Back', and we were both singing along. Lindsay always claimed that she knew the boybands because of her younger sister, but I think she was a closet fan herself.

We got to the restaurant and got a table on the patio. Again, I found myself loving the warm weather there. I was told that most people native to the area didn't consider it all that warm, but considering it was now 10 degrees where I had been living before, the 65 degree day was a vast improvement.

I looked around for a waiter, thirsty for a margarita. I saw four people in what appeared to be uniforms, so I assumed that one of them would probably be the lucky one to wait on us. There were three cute young guys and a young woman. I already knew which one would be ours, but I decided to wait and see if I was correct.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the young woman asked politely. I just chuckled for a minute, earning me a strange look from both Linds and the woman waiting on us.

"I'll have a margarita, please. Gold if you've got it," I ordered, noticing that she didn't write it down.

"I'll have the same, actually," Lindsay supplied. This surprised me, as she normally didn't drink much. She must've noticed my expression, as she said, "I'm not working tonight, so I can have a drink." Made sense to me.

Our waitress walked away, and Lindsay turned to talk to me.

"What was with the chuckling?" she asked, wondering what I'd found funny about the woman asking for our drink order.

"Nothing. I just found it funny that, out of the four waiters out here, I ended up at the table with the one female waitress. That ALWAYS happens when I go out. I never get the cute guys. Must have some bad karma to work off or somethin'," I filled her in.

"Yeah, I guess that is kinda funny now that you mention it," she added with a chuckle.

Our waitress came back a few minutes later, carrying our two margaritas. I should've asked her how big they were before I ordered. It looked like they used a 10-gallon aquarium to serve the things in. Lindsay and I could've probably shared one and still gotten a nice buzz goin'. But, too late now, so I figured I'd better suffer through it.

The waitress, her name was Sheila according to her tag, left again with our food orders, and Lindsay and I settled back for a little relaxation. She told me how her day went, or her night since she worked the night shift. I filled her in on my job, too.

"Did you hear anything new from your parents?" I could tell she was hesitant to ask, but also curious to know.

"Nothing at all. I'm beginning to think that I never will. I decided today, though, that I've gotta quit letting it get me down. Nothing I can say or do now will help the situation, so I'll let them come to me when they decide to do it."

"That's probably for the best. No sense in letting them ruin your life by not being a part of it. After all, you've got me to keep you occupied!" Her face lit up with a smile, trying to move us away from the serious topic.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said with an answering smirk. "It's just too bad you've got the wrong equipment to keep me truly occupied!"

That got a huge laugh out of her. I think the margaritas were kicking in for both of us cause we were soon giggling like a couple o' school kids or something.

Suddenly, something caught her eye behind me. She straightened in her seat and let the laugh die, although she still had the smile on her face. I was still giggling a bit, so I didn't notice her stillness until I felt the hand on my shoulder.

Chapter 9

Call it fate. Call it kismet. Call it sheer dumb luck. Personally, I was favoring sheer dumb luck. I knew who it was before I even turned around, just from the evil glint in Lindsay's eyes.

I turned around, and I was right.

"Hi, Kevin," I said, still smiling from my earlier giggle fit.

"Hey, Dylan, how're you doing? You look a lot better than the last time I saw ya," he said in that soft, southern drawl of his. Oh boy.

"I'm fine, man, how've you been?"

"Great. Busy, of course, but still doing good."

I heard someone clear their throat, and I finally clued into the fact that someone else was with Kevin. I looked just behind him and saw Brian standing there with a slightly annoyed look on his face.

"Oh, sorry, Bri," Kevin apologized for excluding him. "Brian Littrell, this is Dylan Weston. He was in that accident with us a few weeks ago. Dylan, this, obviously, is my cousin, Brian."

"Yeah, right, I remember Nick and Kev talking about meeting you. How's it going?" he asked, apparently as much a gentleman as his cousin.

"Um.fine, man," I replied a little shakily. Nick and Kevin talked about me?

"Well, we didn't mean to disturb you guys. I just saw you here when we walked in and thought I'd say hello," Kevin said. There almost seemed a sadness in his tone as he said it. Lindsay decided to be really helpful.

"Not a problem, Kevin. You're always welcome. In fact, would you and Brian like to join us? We've got the room for you," she said. I could hear the laughter in her tone and knew it was directed at me. She was enjoying my sudden shyness. I could've kicked her.

"Um.," Kevin said, looking over his shoulder at Brian. I had slumped back into my chair, so Brian was behind Kevin from my angle. I couldn't see what his expression was. Apparently he didn't mind, as Kevin said, "that'd be great. Thanks!"

Kevin turned to the hostess, who had been patiently waiting for them while they said hello, and let her know that they'd be joining us. The hostess seemed ok with it and motioned to Sheila so she realized there'd be more of us.

Kevin and Brian pulled up chairs, Kevin on my right, Brian on my left. Sheila returned to get their drink orders. I was a little surprised that they both ordered beer. I must've been a little obvious because Kevin started laughing.

"Yeah, Dylan, we do drink alcohol. Remember, you shouldn't always believe the public image," he said with a smile. I blushed. I seemed to do that a lot when Kevin was around. I attempted to salvage a little dignity by turning to Brian.

"So, Brian, are you feeling better? No side affects from the accident?" I asked.

"Nope, not a one. My wrist hurt pretty bad for a few weeks, but it's finally pretty much back to normal."

"Cool, glad to hear it," I said.

"Kevin, what about you?" Lindsay decided to be helpful again. I really was wanting to kick her, but instead I turned to Kevin, only to see him looking at me already.

"I'm doing good, too," he replied, turning away to look at her.

"Glad to hear it. I'm sure your fans are glad nothing was permanently damaged," she said with a smile and lifted her margarita.

Sheila chose that moment to return with the beer for Kevin and Brian. She asked if she should hold our meals until theirs were finished. I looked a question at Lindsay, and she just nodded. I told Sheila to go ahead and throw ours under the lamp until the other meals were done.

As Sheila walked away, Lindsay raised her glass again.

"A toast. To new friends. And hopefully having them become good friends." I was really getting tired of her helpful nature, and that smirk on her face. But, there wasn't much I could do until we were alone and I could dump the body, so I went along with her plotting.

After taking a drink, I turned to Brian, trying to keep from staring too much at his cousin.

"What brings you all the way down to Tampa for dinner? Isn't it a little far just for some Mexican?" Kevin jumped in before Brian could answer.

"Actually, I asked him to come down with me. See, I talked to Lindsay the other day, and," I cut him off and raised an eyebrow as I looked in her direction. She at least had the decency to blush a little before her natural smirk came back.

"Oh, you talked to Lindsay, huh? Please, Lindsay, tell me that after all my hard work convincing Mr. Richardson, here, that he shouldn't feel in the least guilty about me, you didn't call him up and lay the trip on him anyway."

She just smiled at that and pointed over to Kevin. I turned to look at him, and he was blushing. Actually blushing. I was a little surprised.

"Well, actually, I.um.I called her at the hospital. I was looking for you. I wanted to see if you were settling in ok. She mentioned you were coming here for dinner tonight, so I thought I'd surprise you. I hadn't actually planned on joining you, just saying hello, so I asked Brian along to keep me company," he said with a little smile, only glancing my way a little. I think he was actually embarrassed that he'd sought me out. Personally, I thought my heart was going to explode from the thrill of it.

`Calm down, Dylan, don't read anything into this,' I thought to myself, trying to contain my excitement. I turned to look at Brian, trying to keep from showing Kevin how happy I was that he thought of me.

It appeared, however, that Brian didn't share my joy. Actually, he looked like he was a little ticked that Kevin had done that. I wondered why, but I figured that it really wasn't my concern at the moment. I turned back to Kevin.

"Well, I appreciate you thinkin' of me, man. As you can see, I'm settling in nicely. Linds here has taken pretty decent care of me since I moved in," I said with a glance and a big smile at Lindsay. I took another drink of my margarita, trying to calm down my nerves a little. She just looked at me with a big shit-eating grin on her face. Oh, yeah, she was definitely gonna get it when we got home. On second thought, maybe I'd just toss her in the bay on the way by.

We all continued our talk. Brian told us a little about himself, and we gradually exchanged stories of our lives. I started to feel a little more comfortable around him, although there was still something I couldn't quite place about him that made me feel.twitchy. If I didn't know better, I'd almost say he disapproved of me somehow. But we barely knew each other, what was there to disapprove of?

Chapter 10

Surgeon General's Warning: Alcohol has been known to impair the ability to control flirting behavior. Those who don't wish to scream "I'm gay" to everyone at the table should refrain from having more than one Gold margarita during dinner, particularly when the object of unrequited affection is sitting right there.

I don't think I could really recite many details of the remainder of dinner, even if my life depended on it. I finished my first fish- tank-sized margarita just as our food arrived. Rather than do the intelligent thing and quit while I was ahead, I went ahead and ordered another one. After all, it was only to help me relax around the guys, right?

I remember I spent a lot of time talking to Kevin. Or, rather, listening to Kevin talk and imagining what it would be like to wake up to that voice every morning. There were a number of times I caught myself staring and had to turn away. If I kept it up, there wouldn't be any blood feeding my brain as it would all be in my cheeks and ears from all the blushing. Fortunately, Kevin didn't seem to mind all that much, as he was usually staring back while he talked.

Brian, on the other hand, did mind. Every time I pulled myself away from Kevin's eyes, I caught him staring at me. I didn't really know him well enough to read him, but the vibe of disapproval I was feeling from him only grew as the evening went on. Finally, he'd apparently had enough.

"Kevin, it's about time for us to go. It's already 10:30, and we've got meetings tomorrow to finalize the last minute details for the tour," he said as he set down his beer.

The tour. Kevin had mentioned some time that night, although I'll be damned if I could remember when, that they were starting another tour in a few days. I had forgotten. Or maybe blocked it out on purpose.

"Huh?" Kevin seemed confused as he turned to Brian. "Oh, yeah.um, you're right. We should probably take off. Can we walk you guys out?" he asked as he looked at me.

"That'd be cool. It's about time for us to head home, too. My bed's a'callin' me," I said, hoping I didn't sound as buzzed as I felt, knowing that odds were pretty good that I did.

We all stood and walked out through the restaurant to the front steps. The evening had cooled a little, something we hadn't noticed on the patio before. I saw Lindsay begin to shiver, so I put an arm across her shoulders to warm her up.

I looked up at Kevin and noticed a slight frown on his face. I put on a smile, trying to convey that nothing was going on between Lindsay and I. I think the look in my eyes and the smile on my face probably better conveyed `I want to rip off all your clothes with my teeth, Kevin,' but I was too buzzin' to really care.

I reached out with my other hand to Brian. He took it, almost reluctantly, and gave it a slow shake.

"Good night, Brian. It was great to meet you," I said, trying my best to put aside the strange feelings I'd been getting from him.

"Yeah, great to meet you, too," he responded in a tone that made me think of snowdrifts on the Colorado Rockies. I shrugged it off, again, mostly because of the tequila, I think. I turned to Kevin and offered him my hand, also.

"Kevin, great to see you again. I really enjoyed the evening," I said, slowly shaking his hand. I got a little daring and held on to his hand longer than I should have, squeezing it gently and stroking a finger across his wrist where they touched. I felt a small tremor pass through his skin under my fingertip.

"Yeah, Dylan. I had a cool time, myself. Maybe we can do it again some," he began, but Brian interrupted him.

"Come on, Kev. We're running late. Nice meeting y'all. Bye," he said in a rush as he grabbed Kevin's arm and yanked him away.

I turned to Lindsay and said, with a smirk on my face, "Ya know, I don't think he likes me very much."

"Gee, ya think?" she responded with a slap on my arm. "What gave you the first clue?"

I just laughed at her as we turned to find my car. Lindsay had stopped drinking after just one, so she was fine to drive home. She'd been dying to test out the acceleration on the Grand Prix since I got it anyway, so now was her chance. Lucky for me, I was too drunk to notice how close this car came to joining my last car in the junkyard.

I decided to just crash at her place. It wasn't huge, but Joey usually let me sleep in `his' queen-sized bed in the spare room, provided I didn't take up too much space. So, it was all good as we cruised home listening to.the Backstreet Boys.

I woke up to wet, sloppy kisses all over my face. Normally, this might not bother me, too much. Unfortunately, this morning the face on the other end of the kissing was long and hairy and belonged to a rather hefty two-year-old golden retriever. With a very scratchy tongue.

I loved Joey. Really, I did. But, after last night's binge drinking and this morning's tongue bath, I was beginning to wish someone had fixed his parents long before his birth.

"Ugh, Joey-dog, go! Let me die in peace!"

Somehow, this actually convinced him to jump down. I'd have to remember the technique in the future.

I turned to check the clock on the night table. I'd mentioned to Lindsay more than once how silly it seemed to put a clock in this room, considering that it's only occupant usually didn't much care what time it was. I figured I probably wasn't the only one who had gotten the joy of sharing Joey's bed, although I use the term `sharing' pretty loosely. Joey's idea of sharing was allowing you to lay on your side on the edge of the bed while he sprawled across the rest of it.

The clock read 9:30. I lay back and groaned. I felt like crap, and I knew Lindsay would be only too glad to rub it in. So, I decided to hibernate in here as long as Joey would let me. Knowing him, it wouldn't be very long.

I let my mind drift back to the previous night. Had I imagined Kevin's reaction to me? Was it all just an alcohol-induced wishful dream? It was so hard to think clearly.

I decided at that moment that I really needed to drink more. Yeah, normally on a hangover I'd make the opposite decision. But dammit my alcohol tolerance was non-existent these days. A few shots of tequila in a margarita should NOT have screwed me up this bad.

I finally gave up trying to sleep, deciding that facing Lindsay's smartass comments was better than hanging around in bed, reliving what an idiot I'd made of myself. At least I'd remembered to leave my boxers on when I went to bed. Normally, I sleep in the nude. I could just imagine someone's reaction when they walk in on me sleeping with a golden retriever in the nude. I shuddered at that thought.

I pulled on my t-shirt as I stumbled downstairs. I found Lindsay curled up on the back porch, reading the morning paper. Saturday papers had never been all that exciting to me, so I just walked out and flopped onto the small couch she had there.

"Mornin', sunshine!" she said with a smirk.

I just grunted in reply. She was too damn chipper in the mornings.

"Looks like somebody's not feelin' too good today. Funny, you were feeling no pain last night," she chuckled. I was glad she was having so much fun at my expense.

"God, don't remind me. I wish I could just forget last night. I was such an idiot. If they didn't know I was gay before, last night was like wavin' a big rainbow flag in front of their face while sporting a `hell yeah I'm gay' t-shirt to boot."

That got a full laugh out of her. I just looked at her, disgusted at my so-called friend having so much fun at my expense. She eventually calmed down.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't THAT bad. Rainbow flag waving, maybe, but no t-shirt. I don't think the people at the next table figured it out for at least an hour or so," she said with that smile.

That's it. Next time I get the chance, she's goin' in the bay. Better yet, far, far out in the gulf. No more dickin' around.

"I'm so glad I could provide amusement for you, dearest. You realize, of course, that any chance I had of being friends with those guys just went out the door last night? I practically threw myself at Kevin!"

"You sure as hell did. But did you also notice that he wasn't runnin' away too fast?" She said this with a little twinkle in her eye.

"Huh? Whaddya mean?" I asked, hoping she meant what I thought she meant but a little afraid to get the hope too high.

"Dylan, you may've been flirting pretty heavy with him, but he was flirting right back. The guy likes you. I know it!" I sat back and thought about last night again. Was it real? Did I imagine it?

"Well, whatever. I guess it doesn't matter. They can't get in touch with me, anyway. Brian yanked Kevin away before I could exchange numbers with him," I said with a little sigh, not noticing the little glint in her devilish eyes.

I stood back up, deciding that it was time for me to get home and get my day going. I was dying for a shower, not to mention my toothbrush. Besides, their royal highnesses, otherwise known as my cats, were probably screeching loud enough to wake the neighbors because I wasn't home to feed `em yet.

"I'm gonna take off, lady. I'm in need of some hot water on my body."

"Oooooh, such a temptin' picture," she giggled. I really did hate that perky shit in the morning.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep your hormones in check! You've already seen as much of MY bod as you're ever gonna see! I'm outta here!"

"Bye, honey. Have a nice day!" ARGH!!!

I ran upstairs and threw on my clothes from last night. At least we hadn't been in a smoky bar. I don't think I could've handled that smell on my clothes with a hangover.

I headed back downstairs and peeked back out on the porch.

"You workin' tonight?" I asked.

"Yep. I'm on at 10:00."

"Ok, I'll catch up tomorrow sometime, then. Laters!"

"Bye-bye, sweetie!" she called back as I headed for the front door. I grabbed my keys from the table next to the door, said goodbye to Joey, who had decided to park next to the door, then headed on my way home.

Chapter 11

The shrill ringing of the phone jerked me from my peaceful nap.

"Hello?" I mumbled as I put the receiver to my ear. No response. "Hello?!?!"

I finally woke up enough to realize I was talking into the ear piece and listening to the microphone. I quickly switched the phone around.

"Hello?" I said again. Surprisingly enough, I got an answer this time.

"Dylan? Did I wake y'all up?"

Oh God. Kevin.

"Um, yeah, kind of. Just trying to get some sleep to catch up from last night," I rather lamely tried to explain. After all it was, I looked at the clock, after 4:00 on a sunny Saturday afternoon, and I was in bed.

"Sorry, man. I can let ya go if you want."

"NO!" I shouted before I realized it. "I mean, no, that's ok. I don't mind at all." I'm such an idiot!

"Oh, cool. I can't talk long anyway. I just wanted to see if you'd be interested in doing anything tonight. Dinner again, maybe? Just you and me this time?"

Was he asking me out? Oh God, should I say yes? Is he interested? Does he just want to be friends? WHAT?!?!?!

"Um, actually, I'm kind of tired of eating out. I've been doing it all week." I trailed off.

"Oh.ok." He sounded a little disappointed. I decided to just take a chance.

"But, if you'd be interested, we could grill up some steaks at my place," I said, trying not to sound as desperate as I really was.

"Hey, that sounds great! I'll throw in some beer, and we can just hang out." He sounded pretty excited. "When should I get there?"

"Any time you want. If you're early, we can just wait on the steaks until we're hungry."

"Sounds cool, man. I'm finishing up a meeting here, but I should be done in about 30 minutes. I'll head down after that."

"Ok. I'll be around." I gave him directions to my house, then I heard someone calling his name in the background.

"Dylan, man, gotta bail. I'll see you in a few, ok?"

"Sure, Kev, sounds good," I said. My mind had finally focused on something strange about our conversation. "Kevin, wait. How did you get my number? I'm not listed."

"Duh, man. Lindsay. How d'ya think?"

"Oh. Right." It made perfect sense. Lindsay not only invited the man of my dreams to eat dinner with us last night, but she also was kind enough to give him my number. All without telling me.

I didn't know if I should give her my first six children in payment .or throw her in the shark tank at Sea World in Orlando and see how many were man-eaters!

"Listen, I'm running late. I'll catch you later!" and then he was gone. I sat there a second with the phone against my ear. I couldn't believe it. Kevin Richardson was coming to my house for dinner.

What had I gotten myself into?