Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.
That said, on with Season 7.
Jack
I know that Lance didn't mean anything, and didn't realize what he'd said until afterward, but I still could have cheerfully pushed him out of the back of the bus for telling Josh that I made Chad cry again. I felt bad enough about it, but now I was in trouble, too, because Josh and I had a long discussion both of the other times about how I should learn to control my temper, and not make Chad feel so bad about the irritatingly stupid mistakes he kept making. OK, I put the last part in my own words, but that didn't mean it wasn't true.
"I'm sorry, Jack," Lance whispered as he leaned over to take Junior's bag from me when we were getting off the bus.
"Not your fault," I said, not wanting to give him something else to feel bad about. Lance had enough problems, and it really wasn't his fault, anyway. "You're not the one that made him cry. Again."
"Will you guys be ok?" Lance asked, swallowing. He looked over my shoulder, and I knew that Josh was walking toward us. Even if Lance hadn't said anything, I would have known. I don't know if it was smell, or aura, or what, but I always knew if Josh was within ten feet of me.
"Yeah, you know us," I answered. "We're always ok. It's part of our charm."
As if to prove what I'd just said, Josh walked over and took my hand. I could tell that he was still mad, but he didn't look pissed. Instead, he had that "I'm so disappointed" look that let me know I was really in trouble. Justin told me once that when Josh gave him that look he felt like he was dying inside, and I understood completely.
"Are you sure you don't mind if I keep Junior tonight?" Justin asked, holding him. They wore matching hopeful expressions. If Justin had a tail, it would be wagging slowly, like Junior's was in the crook of Justin's arm.
"As long as you bring him back," I answered. Justin looked to Josh, waiting for an answer from him as well.
"It's fine, Justin," Josh said, smiling. "He might be tired from the plane, though."
"I'll be really careful," Justin said solemnly. "I'll take good care if him, and I'll bring him back tomorrow. I'll keep him safe, I promise."
"I know you will," I said, nodding. Junior yawned, suddenly, and Justin did as well, causing Josh and I to both start giggling. Lance put a hand on Justin's arm, holding Junior's bag in his other hand.
"Come on," he said, smiling at Justin. Justin beamed when Lance touched his shoulder, but I don't think either of them realized it. Their relationship was so damned complex that I didn't want to read anything into it, but it was always nice to see that they were good for each other. "Let's get both of you into bed, ok?"
"Yeah," Justin said, yawning again as Junior leaned up to lick his chin.
The four of us piled into the elevator, Joey and Chris having already gone up, and rode in silence. Josh still held my hand, and if you didn't know any better you'd think we were fine. I felt the tension in Josh's long fingers as they wrapped around mine, though, and when I brushed my thumb over the back of his hand, fluttering the golden brown hair there, he didn't rub his thumb on the inside of my palm. I was already thinking of things to say and ways to apologize before the elevator stopped on our floor, and he hadn't even said anything yet. Not only that, but even though I was completely justified in being pissed at Chad, I still wanted to tell Josh I was sorry for yelling at him and making him cry.
We nodded good night to the other two, watching them walk down the hall to their suite. Justin and Lance had two beds in there, but we were never sure how many of them they were actually using. Josh and I had one bed, and I glanced at it to make sure my suitcase was there as we walked in. Josh flicked on a lamp and began checking messages on the room phone as I unzipped my suitcase and looked for the present that I'd gotten him. I didn't want to give it to him until after we talked, but when he hung up the phone he walked into the bathroom, turned on the water, and then sat on the bed and began tugging off his shoes.
"Josh?" I asked quietly, waiting.
"I'm going to take a shower," he said, looking up at me. His eyes, those deep blue pools that I knew so well, were almost blank. There was warmth there, and love, but it didn't seem the same as usual. Maybe I was projecting my own thoughts onto him, thinking that he looked mad because I expected him to be. "I'm all sweaty. Are you coming in with me?"
"Sure," I answered, and began untying my shoes.
"I missed you," Josh said, tugging his t-shirt over his head. I felt my breath catch in my lungs seeing his chest slide into view. His summer tan was fading, but his skin still carried a little hint of his natural brown tone. His abs, as always, were a rippled sculpture below the fan of his pecs. There was a little sprinkling of hair across the top of his breastbone now, but other than that he was still mostly smooth, his skin glowing under the light of the few lamps on, and his nipples, my favorite snack, stiffened in the cold air conditioning of the room. "And I'm glad your talk went well again. Are you still glad you decided to do it?"
"I think so," I answered, shrugging, as I stood to kick my pants off. I picked them up and began folding them without thinking about it, and smiled when I saw Josh doing the same thing with his clothes. "Our house is always going to be spotless, isn't it?"
"My mommy raised me right," he answered, smiling. The other guys made fun of him sometimes for his teeth, which overlapped a little, and I knew he was self conscious about them, both because he'd told me and because in pictures he almost never showed them when he smiled, but I thought they gave him character. It was also the kind of flaw that made his good looks less intimidating for us ordinary people. "What kind of people was it this time?"
"College kids," I answered, grinning. "They were so energetic, and they actually had a packed room. There were people standing against the walls in the back just to hear what I had to say. I met with the campus gay group, who organized it, before talking, and they were all just so excited, Josh. It was kind of like seeing myself at that age, when I was still out and proud and loud."
"You still are," he laughed, running a hand through my hair as he waited in his boxer briefs for me to finish getting undressed. I was wearing a few more layers than he was, as the guys tended to change into grubby casuals after the shows, knowing that they were just going to come home to peel them off for a shower.
"Who would have thought I'd turn back into an activist," I sighed, shaking my head. Some days it seemed like my life had come so far back around full circle that it scared me. Last time I had been this happy, and active, and had someone who loved me, I'd ended up taking a long fall, one that ended with me being the quiet person Josh fell in love with, who had lived alone and liked it. Was I obsessing so much about Chad because I was expecting all of this to come crashing down around me? "I'm sorry I missed the show last night."
"Don't worry about it," Josh said, shrugging. I know it wasn't supposed to be sexual, but I was hard just watching the play of his muscles under his skin. "I know you're at every one you can, and you made it to more of the rehearsals than some of the crew did."
"Yeah, I guess I did," I said, chuckling. The mood between the two of us was very quiet, and it should have been comfortable, but I was just antsy, waiting for that other shoe to drop. As Josh began walking toward the bathroom, I decided I couldn't wait any longer. "Josh, say something, please. I can't take this, this talking around it."
Josh's shoulders slumped when I said this, and he stopped, looking back over his shoulder.
"What do you want me to say, Jack?" he asked quietly. He didn't sound angry, just tired. "I mean, honestly. Do you want me to yell at you, tell you I can't believe you did it again? Would it make any difference?"
"Josh, I really am sorry," I said, wringing my hands helplessly. "I mean, I was pissed, but I didn't mean to make him cry."
"I'm sure you didn't," Josh said, turning around and crossing his arms over his bare chest. "But I bet you talked to Chad while you were pissed off, and I bet you were rude as hell to him, and nasty. I've heard you when you get upset, Jack, and your tongue is a little sharper than you think it is."
I wanted to snap at him, to say something really nasty, but could you do that when he was right?
"Josh, he screwed up my flight again," I began, trotting right into the same argument we'd had the last time this happened.
"Yeah, and if you want to follow up with him on that, there's an appropriate time and place, Jack," Josh said, sighing.
"Andrew mentioned something like that," I said, frowning.
"I'm sure he did," Josh said, smiling a little. "That's why I wanted to keep him as your traveling guard. At least I know Andrew will give it to you straight when I'm not there."
"Josh, it still doesn't change the fact that Chad is incompetent," I said, crossing my arms now, too. "I mean, I'll apologize to him for the way I handled it, but that's a symptom. His behavior is the cause."
"So is yours," Josh said, a little hint of irritation finally creeping into his voice. "I know you don't like him, and maybe I should have listened harder when you said you didn't want to hire him, but you don't have to ride him so hard all the time. He's doing the best he can, and instead of working with him, you're happy just to butt heads."
"Josh, why is this so important to you?" I asked, walking across the room to him. I wasn't angry. I just really wanted to know.
"I wanted to give him a chance, Jack," Josh said finally. "I mean, you talk about the kids you see, and how much they remind you of yourself. Well, Chad reminds me of myself. He's kind of geeky, and a little shy, and I remember when I was like that, too. I'm not saying we should let him take it easy because I like him. I expect him to work hard. He just needs a chance to shine, and I thought we could help him with that, but instead you just growl at him all the time."
"I wouldn't growl so much if he would stop sniffing around my tree," I said, frowning again. "I mean, sure, you like him, but I get the feeling that he likes you a little too much, you know?"
"And you don't trust me?" Josh asked, reaching out to touch my necklace, as if to remind me of what it stood for. The two of them were as much a symbol of our love as our wedding bands, and really, they meant more. My wedding band had never saved my life.
"You know that's a stupid question," I said, running my hand up his arm, brushing over his warm skin. "I trust you plenty. I just don't trust him. Every time he screws up, I end up missing you, or not getting to spend as much time with you, and I don't like it, Josh."
"Jack, are you listening to yourself?" he asked, staring into my eyes. I saw my face, and my dark green eyes, reflected in his blue ones, and realized what was wrong with him. He didn't look sad or mad. He looked drained. "You think Chad's plotting to keep us apart? Do you realize how paranoid that sounds?"
I had to smile with him. When he said it out loud like that, it did sound kind of stupid.
"I'm sorry, baby," I said. "I guess I'm just jumping at shadows all the time."
"It's ok," he said, hugging me. I was aware of his bare chest pressed against mine, and realized as he squeezed me tightly that his heart was beating in time with my own. "Do you think you could try to be a little nicer to him? For me?"
"Josh," I began, not sure of what else I was going to say. He let go of me, stepping back.
"Fine, Jack, if you have to win every argument, we can just fire him and be done with it," Josh said, his voice flat. He shook his head, turning toward the bathroom.
"Josh, wait," I said, taking his arm. "Please, Josh, I love you. Just tell me what's wrong."
"I'm just tired, Jack," he answered. "Really tired. Being on tour is hard. Why do you think we're all sleepy all the time? I'm exhausted, and with you out doing your thing, and me doing mine, I barely get to see you as it is. I don't want to spend the time I do have with you arguing about Chad, ok? If you don't want him around, we can just let him go, and give him a really nice severance package, before he ends up suing us for the hostile work environment you're busy creating. I don't really care either way. I just, I don't have the energy to deal with this, ok? Not with the tour, and Justin, and Lance, and everything else. It's just too much on top of everything, and if this is the point I have to give on, then fine, ok, I give."
I swallowed, looking away. I hadn't realized how much this was bothering Josh, because I'd been too selfish and immature. I knew that Josh wouldn't ever do anything with Chad, and that he would be more than capable of rebuffing any advances that came his way, but I still just couldn't let this alone, because I was thinking of myself. I saw it from Josh's point of view suddenly, thinking about how hard he was working, and how he couldn't even fully enjoy his downtime because of the way I was acting. I hugged him again, squeezing tightly, and felt him hugging me back.
"I'm sorry, Josh," I said, my mouth muffled against his shoulder. "I'll try to get along with him, ok? I'll give him another chance."
"Jack, I'm not trying to guilt you into this," he sighed, but I shook my head.
"You're not, not any more than I just guilted you into saying we could fire him," I said. "OK?"
"OK," Josh answered, still holding me. Everything would have been a lot easier later if I'd just fired Chad then, when we had the chance. I held my hand in the middle of Josh's back, and began to guide him toward the bathroom.
"Come on," I said, stepping out of my boxers. I slid my hand down his back and under the waistband of his boxer briefs, resting it on his firm, tight ass. "Let's get you into the shower, and then into bed."
Lance
"Do you think he has to go out again?" Justin asked, staring down at Junior. Junior sat on the floor in front of him, staring back up at Justin with equal solemnity.
"You put down a pad in the bathroom, right?" Lance asked, yawning. Junior was housebroken, but since he spent so much time in hotels, Jack had also taught him to go to the bathroom on puppy training pads if he needed to.
"Yeah," Justin answered, standing. He began to walk toward the bedroom, and turned back at the door to pat his leg. "Come on."
It took Lance a second to realize Justin was talking to the dog. Twenty pounds of terrier mutt dutifully trotted into the bedroom, and Lance followed. Justin had stripped down to a t-shirt and pair of shorts, his usual bedtime attire, but as he turned down the sheets on his bed he gave Lance no indication of which bed he wanted him in.
"Justin, I'm going to bed, too," Lance prompted, waiting. He pulled off his shirt, stripping down to the boxers he slept in, but Justin still hadn't said anything, so Lance figured he was probably supposed to sleep in his own bed tonight. He checked to make sure the nightlight was plugged in near the door, since Justin couldn't sleep in a fully dark room, where he couldn't see who might be near him, and flicked off the lamp between the beds. "Good night, Justin."
"Lance?" Justin asked, staring at his own bed uncertainly. "Can I sleep in your bed?"
"Of course you can," Lance answered, sliding over. Justin climbed carefully into bed, spooning himself against Lance's front, and after he pulled the sheet back up he patted the blanket, to let Junior know it was ok to get up on the bed. As the dog turned around and around in a little circle, Lance wondered if Justin needed to talk. He wasn't shaking, and his breathing was even as his dense back pressed against Lance's bare chest. Justin wasn't a particularly brawny guy, not like a body builder or something, but his body always seemed kind of solid. "Are you still upset about, you know, earlier?"
"No, not really," Justin answered, relaxing a little as he felt Lance's hand settle onto his shoulder. He wiggled back a little, so that he was against Lance, and pulled Lance's arm down across his chest. "I just, I don't want to sleep in my bed."
"Is something wrong with it?" Lance asked. Justin's tone was hard to place. He and Lance had an agreement that if Justin wanted to be held, or just didn't want to sleep alone, he would ask Lance without making up an excuse. "We could have a different one brought in."
"No, it's just, I don't know," Justin sputtered. He sounded confused, and even a little afraid. "I had a, a bad dream, last night. I don't want to sleep in that bed."
"I'm sorry, Justin," Lance said. He couldn't believe that Justin had a nightmare, and he'd slept through it. That had never happened before. "Why didn't you wake me? Was it, are you ok?"
"I don't want to talk about it!" Justin said sharply, his voice cracking. Lance and Junior both jumped a little, and Justin grabbed Lance's arm before he could pull it out from around him. "I'm sorry, Lance, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."
"Justin, it's ok," Lance said. He'd been there for all of Justin's bad dreams, and everything else, and he figured Justin was well entitled to an occasional outburst. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Just don't think about it, and go to sleep, ok?"
"OK," Justin agreed, squeezing his eyes closed. "Thank you, Lance."
"You're welcome," Lance said absently, squeezing him. "Good night."
"Night," Justin whispered, already drifting toward sleep. He was exhausted from the show, his adrenaline high finally fading.
Justin fell asleep with Junior nestled against him on one side and Lance holding him tightly on the other, a cocoon of warmth and safety. He felt himself falling down into unconsciousness, and offered a last prayer, as he did every night, for a blank, dreamless sleep. Lance, holding him, was awake a little longer, listening to Justin's even breathing and Junior's light snoring, wondering if Justin was ok. He'd told Lance every other dream he had, every bad thing that woke him, and Lance did the same when he had one of his own less frequent nightmares, although he censored out any parts that he thought would upset Justin. What could have been so bad about the dream last night that Justin wouldn't tell him about it? And why was Justin so scared of it?
Jack
I didn't really need a shower, but Josh did, so I made sure this one was all about him. As we stepped into the bathroom I looked around, to memorize where everything was, and then flicked off the lights.
"Jack?" he asked.
"Shhh," I said, taking his hand pulling him toward the stall. I stopped when we hit the bathmat, and knelt to peel his boxer briefs down, hooking my fingers beneath the waistband and tugging them gently down to his feet.
"You know if you have the lights off, I'm probably just going to fall asleep," he said softly, and I could hear the smile. I stood, still holding his hand, and kissed him on the cheek.
"I'll just have to find some way to keep you awake," I said, pulling the doors open. The suite also had a sunken tub, but we could save that for tomorrow night, when we were both more awake.
Josh sighed as the spray hit him, and I felt around for the loofa and gel, getting it really sudsy before I began to gently scrub his chest with it. Both of us liked really hot showers, so the air was filled with steam, and I was as much washing him as I was caressing him. Josh, sighing loudly and contentedly, stood in the stream, moving wherever I put him, and I could tell as I kissed him over and over in the darkness that his eyes were closed. He was nice and relaxed, and really that was my main goal. We could fool around a little, but we'd fallen into a pattern of saving that for the morning. As I finished his chest I took one of his arms, pulling it away from his body a little, and carefully washed it, going by feel.
"You're losing weight," I said, switching to the other one.
"It always happens on tour," he said. His voice was almost purring as I continued to wash him, dropping down to my knees to get his legs. I knew his cock was right there somewhere, but wasn't ready for it just yet. "We get so busy, and we're working so hard, I don't always remember to eat, and we just burn everything off, anyway."
"We're going to have to fatten you up some, then," I said from the floor of the shower, my hand so very close to his inner thigh. I finished his other leg and felt around for the washcloth, wanting something I could get more of a grip with.
"I'll be ok," he sighed as I stood. "Jack, this feels so nice."
"You know what's going to feel even better?" I asked, lathering up the washcloth.
"What?" he answered, his hands resting on my shoulders. My mouth was right next to his ear, and I could feel his eyelashes brushing my cheek.
"Washing the rest of you," I whispered, reaching out to carefully fold his balls into the washcloth. He gasped, his hips lurching toward me as his head tilted back, and I guided him to the back wall of the shower as I gently massaged his large, full sack. I felt his cock throbbing against my wrist, and his hands dropped from my shoulders as he sighed and whimpered.
I slid the soapy, slick washcloth up his cock, holding it tightly, but not squeezing, and heard him suck in his breath again. I slid it carefully up and down the shaft, under the pretense of washing, and carefully ran my other hand over his head, not wanting to get any soap in his hole. His hips were rolling slowly toward me, almost mimicking some of the choreography they used to have, and he let out a half groan, half whimper each time they moved. I was quiet, so his breathing and the sound of the shower were the only noises in the pitch dark bathroom, other than us kissing. When I leaned in to kiss him on the lips, still working his cock with both hands, his hands slid up my chest to grab my face, holding it while he pushed his tongue inside, rolling it through every crevice of my mouth. I broke our kiss and leaned down to fasten my mouth over his adam's apple, burying my head beneath his chin, and felt it vibrate as he continued to moan. I let go of his cock, sliding my hands back up his arms, and gently pulled his hands away from my face.
"I'd say that part's clean enough for now," I whispered, and took his shoulders, turning him toward the spray. "Duck your head under."
Josh did as I told him, pliant beneath my gently caressing hands, and let the shower beat down on his head as I reached for the shampoo. The other nozzle was spraying me right in the middle of the back, but I ignored it as I brought my hands up to Josh's hair. I loved to wash it, and found it endlessly fascinating to run my fingers through, wet or dry. With the lights off it was a little more difficult to make sure I wasn't getting any shampoo in his eyes, but I tried not to use a lot, and to be really careful. I had to be careful with Josh's hair anyway, since it was long enough to tangle, unlike my shorter hair, which you could just kind of smash shampoo onto and scrub away at. As I worked my fingers carefully over his head, massaging his scalp, he continued to sigh with contentment, and I got to soak up the feeling of just being close to him and giving him pleasure.
"Rinse," I said, and he ducked under again. Back when we were in the apartment complex in LA Chris had always said we had too much sex in the shower, since he could hear the water pipes in his apartment below us, but we both enjoyed it too much to quit. We'd gotten a lot better about not ripping down the curtains, though. I repeated the head wash with his conditioner, wanting his hair to be soft and smooth. I'd had my hair longer after my kidnapping, but got tired of having to put so much crap in it to keep it under control, and had cut it all off again. Josh, on the other hand, was in love with hair products, which meant washing it was a several step process, involving at least two of everything. After I finished the second wash and conditioning, with different ones, I turned him back toward the wall, placing his hands against it so he would understand he needed to lean.
"Now your back," I said, reaching into the bottom of the tub for the washcloth again.
I washed across his soft, rounded shoulders, and down the V shape of his back. The darkness was kind of sensual, but I really also kind of wanted to see him. Then again, I'd looked at Josh so many times that I knew every curve, every freckle, and could play it all behind my eyes any time I wanted to. We both had a rule that we wouldn't masturbate while we were separated, so that it would be good when we were together, but some nights, thinking about his lithe, tanned body, all those muscles and that skin, it was really hard not to. I did his legs as well, the backs of them now, and did his feet as best I could. Standing, I heard him sigh again as I slid the washcloth into his crack, scrubbing gently even though I was sure he was spotlessly clean. I pressed forward, massaging his perineum, and heard his breath catch sharply before I pulled my hand back.
"Like that?" I asked, running the washcloth up and down his crack again.
"Yeah," he sighed.
I grinned in the darkness, soaping up my finger. Before he could say anything else, I pushed it inside of him, curling it to hit his prostate. He yelped, bucking against the wall, and I reached around with my other hand, holding the soapy washcloth, and wrapped it around his cock again. Moving both hands in unison, I massaged his prostate as I continued jerking him off, and he shuddered against the wall, his hips jerking back and forth between my hands. He fought to catch his breath, managing to squeak out my name before he broke into a series of yelps, and I felt his ass squeezing my fingers as he shot all over the wall of the shower. He lolled helplessly against me as I turned him toward the shower spray, hosing him off, and when I decided we were both rinsed enough I reached out and shut the water off.
We stepped out of the shower, and I handed him a towel by feel. As I was reaching out for the light switch I felt his hand on my arm.
"No, no light," he whispered, pulling me against him. Our bodies, both wet, slid against each other as he ran the huge towel up and down us both, and he tilted my head up, jamming his tongue into my mouth. "That was amazing, Jack."
"I just want to make sure you get a good night's sleep," I whispered, feeling his lips on my cheek. He ran his tongue up the curve of my ear as he wrapped a hand around my cock, which was throbbing and hard between us, my head leaking everywhere.
"What about you?" Josh asked, running his fingers lightly up and down my shaft. I felt his hard nipples brushing my chest, and his mouth slid from my ear down to my neck, to kiss and nibble at it as I rolled my head to the side. "It feels like you need taking care of."
"I can wait 'til morning," I sighed. "We'll enjoy it more when we're both awake."
"OK," he sighed, letting go of me.
He took my hand, and I pulled open the bathroom door, both of us squinting in the light from the bedroom lamps. His face was flushed, his wet hair pushed back casually, and everything else was just as I saw it in my mind, or with my hands. A little bit of water still glittered on both of us, but we were dry enough to climb into bed. He flicked off the lamps, and then wrapped himself around me, pulling me back against him, and I settled into the warm cradle of his arms, feeling him sigh against my neck.
"I missed you," he said again.
"I'm here now," I answered.
Our rings clinked against each other as I settled my hands over his.
To be continued.