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". This is my first attempt at this sort of writing, so the feedback on the first installment was appreciated.
And now, back to our story in progress.
JC's Hitchhiker - Part 2
Neither one of us seemed to know what to say to each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, or what he'd been thinking for months. Hell, I wasn't even sure what I'd been thinking, and I had rushed out of the hotel room before I could figure it out.
"So," I began, noticing that he still had the same cheekbones, the same sky blue eyes, that same slender, sexy build.
"So," he answered, exuding a soft smell of good cologne.
Oh yeah, we were off to a great start.
"Oh my God, do you know who you are?" Racquelle gushed in all her breathless teenaged enthusiasm. I'd kind of forgotten she was in the room.
"Gee, I hope so," Josh answered, smiling.
"Racquelle, this is my friend, Mr. Chasez," I began.
"Oh my God, you're friends with my librarian!" Racquelle burst, splintering the calm, quiet of the library.
"Racquelle, I know you're excited," I began softly, in my best attempt at finding an educational, developmental way to say, "Shut up!"
Josh took her arm.
"Racquelle? That's such a pretty name," he began, as she stared at his arm in goggle-eyed excitement. I could just see her thinking, "Oh my God, JC's touching me!" You don't know the half of it, Racquelle. "I can see you're pretty excited, but I've come kind of a long way to talk to Mr. Springer here. Would it be ok if I came out and talked to you when I was done? Or maybe signed something for you? You seem really nice, and I wouldn't want to miss a chance to talk to you a little more."
"I'll be right there at that desk!" she said, pointing. She hurried over to the front desk as Josh stepped into my office and closed the door.
"You handled that really well," I said. We moved toward each other in a kind of awkward little attempt at a hug, but then just shook hands. He still had that smooth yet firm grip. I remembered well the feeling of his hand sliding over my skin. "Um, do you want to sit down?"
"Sure," he said, settling into a chair as I sat back down at mine. "So."
"So," I said, looking at him.
My office is kind of small, so having two people in it with the door closed was almost claustrophobic, especially if one of the people was the world-famous JC. I hadn't really been affected by that sense of "Oh my God" celebrity when I'd met him, but that had been such a whirlwind two days that, as I said, I hadn't really thought about anything. As I looked at him, leaning comfortably back in his chair but looking right into my eyes in that unwavering way he had, I felt the same sparks of lust, and quickly pushed them aside.
"It's nice to see you," I began awkwardly. "Kind of a surprise."
"Well, you know, you left so quickly I didn't even get to say goodbye," he said, a quick flash of hurt crossing his features. Just as quickly his face settled back into that cute, relaxed yet playful look.
"Didn't get a chance to call, either," I pointed out. It came out a little harsher than I'd intended. "I'm sorry, that sounded bitchy."
"Well, are you mad that I didn't call?" he asked, leaning forward. I found myself unconsciously leaning forward, too, just to get closer. "Because I wasn't exactly overjoyed when I woke up, and you weren't there."
I sighed.
"Josh, I don't know how I feel, ok?" I said, leaning back in my chair. "I don't know how you feel, either, but it's obvious we have some talking to do. This isn't the place to do it, though."
"Yeah, I guess," he agreed. "Do you want me to leave?"
I didn't. I also didn't want him to think I wasn't happy to see him, or that I was mad that he'd come.
"Listen, Josh, this is the last period of the day," I said. "Why don't you let me finish up here, and then we can go somewhere and sit down and just talk, ok?"
"OK," he said, standing up. "What do you want me to do?"
"Do?" I asked, standing as well.
"I'll get bored just sitting here in your office," he said, smiling. "What can I do to help out around here?"
"You want to work in the library?" I asked incredulously, smiling and chuckling a little.
His eyes sparkled as he grinned back at me.
"Sure do," he answered. "I want to work in the library, right now."
"You asked for it," I said, not quite believing that a member of N'Sync had come all the way here to see me and to put in a shift working at a high school library. I opened my door, unconscious of the fact that we were both grinning like idiots. "Racquelle? Mr. Chasez is going to help out around here this period. Do you think he could help you go through the stacks?"
"You're gonna help me?" Racquelle asked, again seeming on the verge of hyperventilating. It would have been funny if I didn't think we'd have to send her to the nurse.
"That's what Mr. Springer says," Josh answered, smiling at her.
Racquelle grabbed his arm and began pulling him across the library.
"We're going through the shelves right now to put the books back in order before the summer. It all goes by the decimal system thing, and I'll show you how it works," Racquelle babbled, leading him to the shelves and tossing in another, "Oh my God!"
I watched for a second, wondering how long Josh would go along with this.
"Oh wow, you know Mr. Springer? Does he know the rest of the band?" Racquelle asked.
"Oh, yeah, he knows all of them," Josh answered, smiling at me.
Racquelle stared at me in wonder. Suddenly I was, without doubt, the coolest librarian in the school district, if not the state.
"I'll just be in here if you guys need me," I said, stepping back into my office.
I went back to the boring administrative paperwork that I'd been working on, but kept an ear toward my open door, listening to Racquelle keep up a steady stream of chatter and questions as she and JC worked their way around the library. Listening to them, I gained a new respect for Josh. Even though he was a major celebrity, and she was a high school library assistant, he never once talked down to her. He answered all of her questions, and even managed to work in a few of his own, to ask her about school, what else she did, what her goals were, and just to be a generally nice, down to earth guy. Before I knew it, the period was almost over, and the two of them had moved back to the front desk.
I closed up my office, shutting off the lights and locking the door, and joined them at the desk.
"JC, do you think you could sign my notebook for me?" Racquelle asked, much calmer than she had been.
"I would love to," Josh said, taking it from her. "As a matter of fact, I have an even better idea. When the bell rings, why don't you go get four of your friends, and bring them back here, and I'll sign whatever you guys want."
"JC, you're in a high school," I pointed out, "and we're not set up for riot control."
"I won't tell anybody, I swear!" Racquelle promised. "I won't even tell them why we're coming here! I promise! Please Mr. Singer?"
"Please, Mr. Singer?" Josh echoed.
"OK," I said, throwing up my hands. "But only four friends, and then you guys go straight home, ok?"
"OK, I promise!" Raquelle promised, flying out of the library as the bell rang.
Against all possible odds she returned with only four friends, and no one else noticed that anything special was going on. After all, the library isn't really a happening place. Josh very calmly held off five teenaged girls, and signed whatever they produced for him, writing whatever message they wanted. When the warning bell for the busses rang, the five of them flew out of the library, backpacks clutched to their chests.
"That was really sweet," I said, walking toward the windows. "Once the busses leave we can head out."
"OK," he said.
Josh settled back into a chair and watched as I closed all the windows and lowered all the blinds. I shut off the lights, gathered my things, and then we walked out to my car. He had taken a cab from the airport, rather than a limo, and had only brought a small bag. I mentally reviewed the contents of my apartment.
"You ok with eating out? I'm not really sure what kind of dinner I can throw together, other than stuff from a box," I said.
"Sure," he said, looking out the window.
We drove in silence for a few minutes, and suddenly I felt the need to fill it.
"I want to apologize," I began. "I was wrong about you, and I've misjudged you. Over the past months I've built up in my head that you were just this, I don't know, big time prick celebrity, and I realized this afternoon that I was wrong."
He looked thoughtful for a minute. I wasn't sure if I had hurt him or not, but I figured honesty would probably be the best policy.
"I appreciate that," he began, and then sighed. "We have a lot to talk about, Jack. I think we should get some food first."
"OK," I agreed. "There's a little quite place up the road here, and I can get us seats toward the back, in case you're worried about people seeing you."
"Thanks," he answered. "I'd kind of like for us to have some uninterrupted time."
I nodded my head, and he went back to looking out the window. After another minute or two, he shifted in his seat, and somehow his hand settled onto my knee. I looked at him, and saw that he had stopped looking out the window, and was staring at me with this open, kind of wistful expression.
"I missed you, Jack," Josh said.
"I missed you, too, Josh," I said, turning the car. "This is us."
Josh followed me into the restaurant. I was walking kind of fast, because I was starting to feel a little disoriented. How could he miss me, but not call for months? And then just show up, and drop his hand onto my knee like it was his? Part of me wanted to knock his hand away, and the rest of me wanted to move it further up my leg. After we were seated, and had ordered, we stared at each other again, and then looked away, twirling our drinks with our straws or playing with our napkins.
Yes, we'd mastered the concept of "awkward silence".
Leaning forward, I asked, "So, how did you find me?"
"It wasn't all that difficult," Josh said, smiling and leaning forward as well. "I mean, you left your name and your phone number, and it's not like I don't have a lot of resources at my disposal."
"Good point," I said, readying myself. "I guess you get to ask a question now."
"Why'd you leave like that?" he asked, brows knitted together. It had never occurred to me that I might have hurt him.
"Good question," I said, stalling, and leaning back in my chair. "It's hard to answer that. I mean, the whole thing happened so fast, and it was like I just got plucked out of my life and dropped into yours. I felt kind of overwhelmed."
He didn't say anything.
"I also felt kind of ashamed," I added.
Josh reached across the table and took my hand.
"Ashamed? Why? Because of who you are?" he asked, his face etched with lines of concern.
"Oh, Jesus, no," I answered. "I'm years past that. I wasn't ashamed because I'm gay. I was ashamed because of what I thought you were thinking. I mean, I just met you, and we form this immediate friendship, and then I get you drunk and take complete advantage of you. What kind of a friend does that?"
"You know, Jack, I wouldn't say that you got me drunk," Josh began. " I don't remember you pouring any drinks into my mouth. And I wouldn't say you took advantage of me, either. As I remember, everybody got something out of it."
"But still, you know, I'm not the kind of guy who just meets people and has sex with them," I said. "And I was worried that you thought I was. And then I was worried that you were, so I just got up and left. I'm not looking for a one night stand, and I really thought I had just blown the whole thing."
His mouth twitched, but he held the giggles in.
"No pun intended," I said, smiling.
"Jack, that's not what I thought," he began.
"Then why didn't you call?" I demanded. "I waited for months. Every time I came home and the answering machine was blinking I thought it might be you. I waited for you, and you never called, and I didn't know what else to think. For all I knew you were leaving a string of guys behind you on that tour. I thought there was a guy like me in every town, and how do you think that made me feel?"
"Oh, Jack," Josh said, looking down. He looked back up into my eyes, ignoring the anger there. "I'm sorry. I don't know if you believe that, but I am. I didn't decide not to call because of you. I didn't call you because of me."
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
"Jack, there isn't a string of other guys before or after you," Josh began, breathing deeply. "As a matter of fact, there aren't any other guys, besides you. You're the only one."
I gaped at him.
"Wait, Josh, you never."
"Never," he answered. "Not with another guy."
We paused for a minute, as the waiter returned with our meals. I was still processing Josh's revelation, and it gave him a minute or two to collect himself.
"Jack, you're the only guy I've ever slept with, ever," he began. "And that's why I didn't call you."
"OK," I said, looking at my food.
"No, not ok," Josh said. "You deserve a better answer than that. This is kind of hard for me, but it's part of why I'm here. See, my whole life I felt like something was missing. You said that you've been ok with yourself for years, but I haven't been. I've had this emptiness, this hole, and I've tried and tried to fill it. I have friends, and my family, and even girlfriends, but none of it has ever been what I needed."
"But Josh, in the field you work in, you must have met another gay guy before," I said, enthralled. I had my hand on his now, trying to comfort him. "You've probably even been hit on before. It can't have just been me."
"You're right," he smiled. "It wasn't just you, but it wouldn't have been anyone else but you. Everyone else I meet wants something. They need something from me. When you're on tour, you're going all the time, and when you're not working or rehearsing you're trying to sleep, and get ready for the next show. When Chris and I saw you, sitting out by your car, we convinced the driver to stop because helping someone is what you're supposed to do. But then you got on the bus, and I started talking to you, and you were like a breath of fresh air."
"Me?" I said. "Josh, I've been called many things, but never that."
"No," he said, gripping my hand. "It's true. You said that you felt like you got dropped into my life? Well, I felt like I was pulled into yours. You were this bright, happy, amazing special person, and you didn't want anything, and you seemed so comfortable with yourself, and it was like looking into a window at everything I always wanted. You were like this little slice of reality, and it didn't matter to you who we were. You made a friend of me, and it was really for me, and I wanted to hold onto that as long as I could."
"So you invited me to the concert, and to go out," I said, comprehending.
"Yes!" he said. "It was like I was drowning, and you were the life preserver. I didn't know who I was, and there you were. And then, when we got back, and, you know, it was the most amazing experience of my life. We fell asleep and I knew who I was. I knew how I was different, and I knew what that hole had always been. And then I woke up, and you were gone."
We both sighed. I looked down at the tabletop, where my right hand was still holding his left.
"Josh, I can't be your life preserver," I said, even though it was like chewing glass. "I can't be that for anyone. It's not healthy, and it's not fair to you or me."
"I know," he answered. "And that's why I didn't call. I couldn't do that to someone else, couldn't love someone else, until I knew how I felt about me. I've done a lot of work these past few months, but I've also done a lot of thinking. I've thought about our time together, and about how it made me feel, and I've compared it with my whole life, and I know who I am now, and that's why I called you. Because I feel like now I can see myself as your equal, without needing you to be anything for me other than who you are."
"But, Josh, me?" I asked. "Not to play low self esteem or anything, because, you know, I'm more than a little cute and I have great abs, for a librarian, but out of all the people in the world you want me? You could have anybody."
He took my hand in both of his.
"But I don't want anybody," he said. "I came because I want you."
"Oh," I said, squeezing his hand. My heart was fluttering like a hummingbird on speed.
"Jack?" he asked, looking again into my eyes. I stared again into his blue eyes, the color of sea and sky, and again tried to read what I saw there. I saw warmth, and caring. I saw a beautiful young man who was even more beautiful on the inside, and I saw that it was me he wanted, just me.
"Josh, yeah, um, I'm, you know, I'm ok with that," I said, looking up. "Apology for not calling accepted, based on damn good reasons."
We ate for a while, just making small talk as the conversation we'd just had sank in. We talked about how work was going for me, and how the rest of the tour had gone for him. They were getting ready to go back into the studio, but were taking a little break so the members of the group could pursue other projects for a little while before they did. We worked our way around to the important stuff again when dessert came.
"So, what do we do now?" Josh asked, stirring his coffee.
"I think I'd like to just take it a little more slowly," I said. "I mean, those two days were great, but wow, they were quick. Tomorrow's a Friday, so why don't I go to work, and maybe you could stay here for the weekend?"
"I'd like that," he answered. "We could hang out, get to know each other, you know, stuff like that."
"Are you staying at a hotel?" I asked.
"Well, I didn't check in anywhere yet," he answered.
"Oh, good, because you can stay at my place, and save a little money," I said, and then blushed when I realized who I was talking to.
"I was kind of hoping I could stay with you," he said, smiling and cocking an eyebrow suggestively.
"In the guestroom," I added. His eyebrow dropped comically, with his jaw. "Hey, I said take it slow. I have a three date minimum, JC."
He thought about it for a minute.
"OK, I can respect that," he said. "I think I'd kind of like to take it slow, too. Maybe we could even have a little romance this time."
"Rather than the romance that mixed drinks provide?" I asked, laughing.
"Yeah, something like that," he answered.
After we paid our bill, we drove back to my apartment. I live in a small building, with only four apartments, and they're pretty generously sized. I had a spare room because I was between apartment mates, but had decided to go without one for a while. I was enjoying having my own space.
I showed Josh around the apartment, and we set his bag in his room before settling down in the living room to watch Thursday night television.
"Jack?"
"Yes, Josh?"
"Is it moving too fast to ask to come sit by you?" he asked, totally serious.
"No, no it's not," I answered, patting the couch next to me.
Josh settled down on the couch, and then turned a little, pulling me toward him. I ended up leaning against him, my back to his firm chest, with a bowl of popcorn in my lap. We watched television for a couple hours, cuddling and talking. Every time he reached over me for popcorn I was aware of all the muscles in his chest moving, and for the first twenty minutes I was pretty aware of how happy he was to see me, but that faded to a warm lump after a while. A sizeable lump, still, but just a lump, and my own erection from being so close to him eventually faded as well.
Luckily mine had been hidden beneath the popcorn bowl.
When the last show was over, and the evening news was starting, I yawned, stretched, and pulled myself off of the couch.
"OK, Josh, it's time for me to turn in," I said.
"Do I get a goodnight kiss?" he asked, looking completely comfortable sprawled across my couch.
"I think that can be arranged," I said, leaning down.
I kissed him, softly, on the lips, feeling the smooth texture of his mouth rub across mine.
"Maybe two," I said, leaning back in.
The five o'clock shadow of stubble on my chin rubbed maddeningly on his little strip of beard as I felt his tongue just nip a little into my mouth. I opened wider, welcoming it, as he gently pressed his tongue against mine, and then he groaned into my mouth. The vibration was exquisite. His hands moved from my shoulders down my back, and I felt my knees wobbling, as if I might collapse on top of him as I held his head in my hands, running my fingers down his strong jawline. We broke, coming up for air, and I stood.
"Wow," I said. "Time for bed."
"You sure?" he asked, looking pointedly at my tented crotch. Oooops, no popcorn bowl to cover it with.
"Yeah, I'm sure," I said, laughing. His pants were looking pretty full suddenly as well. "Good night, Josh."
"Good night, Jack," he answered.
Hours later, after lying in bed steely hard and staring at the ceiling, I finally fell asleep.
When I woke up in the morning, I quickly showered and got ready for school. I found the spare key, and wrote Josh a quick note explaining when I'd be back and that he could use the key if he wanted to go out anywhere. I taped the key to it, and then snuck quietly into his room, to put it somewhere that he'd be sure to see it. Looking around, I spotted his wallet on the dresser, so I picked it up to put the note under it, and noticed another note folded up in it already. Now, before you say anything, I know it's wrong to go through someone else's things. I understand that it's immoral, and an invasion of privacy, but I was curious, so I pulled the other note out and opened it.
"Oh, my," I whispered.
It was the note I'd written when I left him in the hotel room. The creases were worn in, the edges were fraying, and the writing was a little smudged. I realized that he'd been carrying it around with him all this time. How many times had he taken it out to read it? How many times had he unfolded it, and thought of me?
"Oh, Josh," I said, looking over at him asleep in my guest bed. His eyes were closed, and he was breathing softly, his hair tousled. One muscled arm and a bare shoulder peeked out of the top of the sheet. "Josh, I hope we know what we're doing."
I thought about him all day at school. What were we doing? Was either one of us ready for a relationship? I was happy enough being alone, and he had never been with anyone. Plus there was the distance thing, and the fame thing, and so many other things. I was so busy thinking about all of this that I almost didn't noticed that the maximum number of students were signed into the library every period throughout the day. I was wondering if that many people really needed a quiet place to study before I realized that the girls must have leaked a little. Oh well. At the end of the day, I packed all my stuff up, and left the school, leaving several disappointed students in my wake.
Driving home, I thought about Josh. I really, really wanted to see him, to talk to him, to touch him. Unlocking my door, I was ready for almost anything.
Except what I found.
The end for now. Sorry there isn't any sex this time, but hey, I've gotten the hang of that cliffhanger thing.