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've enjoyed hearing from all of you.
So, on with Season 2 of the story.
Josh stepped away from the door, holding it open, and Lance shuffled inside. His head was down, his shoulders slumped, and he walked as if he expected one of us to smack him. Josh didn't offer him a chair, but it was just as well, since Lance was giving off an overwhelmingly uncomfortable vibe. His eyes darted all around the living room, over the furniture, up and down the walls, anywhere but at the two of us, and he continued shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"You had something to say?" Josh barked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I wanted to come talk to both of you," Lance began quietly, staring at his shoes.
This was obviously painful for him, and Josh was determined not to make it any easier. I couldn't decide which one to side with.
"Why don't you look at us if you're going to talk to us?" Josh asked nastily. "You didn't have any problems looking at us any other time."
Lance looked at me. I tried to keep my face neutral.
"My face is over here," Josh pointed out.
Lance finally looked at him.
"I wanted to come and, um, I wanted to apologize to you," Lance began weakly. His voice lacked the authority it usually carried, but it was also missing every other tone as well. I realized that he sounded almost rehearsed. "I wanted to apologize to both of you, for the, um, for the, you know, the pain I caused."
"Which time?" Josh asked, his voice icy.
"What?" Lance asked, his eyes widening.
"Which time are you apologizing for?" Josh asked, stepping toward him. "Is it for the first time? Because when I talked to you about it you said it was ok, so maybe you're apologizing for the other time. You know, after I talked to you, but you attacked Jack anyway. Is that what you're apologizing for? For pretending you were ok with it, and pretending to be my friend again, and then attacking my boyfriend behind my back?"
"I," Lance began, his jaw flapping. I don't think, after all of Josh's tears, Lance ever expected this level of hostility.
"Josh, you're not even letting him talk," I pointed out. It was exactly the wrong thing to do.
He spun toward me, his blue eyes frosty snowballs boring into me.
"Why should I?" he demanded. "Haven't we heard enough from Lance?"
"We haven't heard anything from him, yet," I answered, crossing my arms as well. I looked past Josh. "Lance, please just tell us whatever it was you came up here to say."
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for all of it," he said, mumbling quickly through the words. "I had no business saying anything to either of you because I wasn't being a good friend to you and I don't have any business judging you on things that I don't really know anything about and I'm very sorry for hurting you both."
Josh and I both stared at him. He was still shifting from foot to foot, and the toneless jumble of words didn't exactly reek of sincerity.
"Is that all you had to say?" Josh asked, his voice still frostily civil.
"I, yeah, I guess," Lance said, shrugging.
"Fine," Josh said, opening the door again. "Thanks for stopping by."
Lance and I both stared at Josh, and then Lance shuffled toward the door.
"I guess I'll go," Lance said, walking out.
I followed him through the door, and Josh slammed it behind me.
"Lance," I called. He stopped, and turned toward me. His whole face drooped, and he just looked completely defeated. "Lance, I can't make excuses for Josh. He's angry and hurt, but I appreciate that you tried."
"Yeah, whatever," he sighed, turning away.
When I walked back into the apartment, Josh was leaning on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, glaring at the door, waiting for me.
"Happy? We listened," he snapped at me.
"What the fuck, Josh?" I asked, snapping right back.
"What?" he asked.
"That was rude," I said. "He came up to apologize. The least you could have done was listen."
"Why?" he asked again.
"Josh, he drove around just like everyone else when you were lost," I said. "He made calls, and he even came up here to talk to me, and try to reassure me, and this is how you treat him for it?"
"I wouldn't even have been out there if not for him!" Josh barked.
"Don't blame Lance for that," I said. "It was him, and you, and me, and Justin, and all the rest of this shit. It wasn't just Lance, and you know it."
"Why are you making excuses for him?" Josh asked.
"Why aren't you?" I countered. "Before I even came here you told me about how close you guys are, and how you're practically a family, and how you're all brothers. Is this really the way you want to treat your brother, Josh?"
"He hurt me," Josh said sullenly. "He hurt us both."
"Quick, hurt him back," I snapped sarcastically. "That'll solve the problem."
We glared at each other, neither wanting to give any ground, but both aware that we didn't want to get into a fight. Before either of us could say anything, we were interrupted by knocking at the door.
"What the fuck?" Josh barked, stalking past me to get the door. He jerked it open, revealing Joey standing with two bottles. "Joey?"
"Hi, guys," he said brightly. "Bad time?"
"No," I answered as Josh blurted, "Yes."
We glared at each other again, Josh holding the door in a white knuckled grip and me with my arms still crossed sulkingly over my chest. We might as well have had a sign over our heads that read, "Catfight in Progress". Joey held out the bottles.
"Here, put these in your fridge," he said. "Then finish bickering, then kiss and make up, and then come outside and meet us in the parking lot. Justin says they're holding a table for us at Spago, so I figure we better hurry and grab some lunch before you two break up again."
"We're not breaking up, dick," Josh said, glaring at Joey now instead of me.
"Give me those," I snapped, pulling the bottles out of Joey's hands. Walking to the fridge, I glanced down at the labels. "Joey, why are you giving us champagne?"
"You'll see," he said, stepping back. "I'll leave you to your rumble now."
"We'll be out in a minute," Josh snapped, shutting the door in Joey's face. He turned back to me. "I don't want to leave if we're still fighting, Jack. I don't want you to still be mad at me."
"I'm not mad, just disappointed," I sighed weightily. It had always worked when my mother said it. Josh walked over and hugged me.
"How about if I agree to think about Lance's apology?" he asked. "Is that ok?"
"Sure, Josh," I said, hugging him back. "Let's go get some lunch."
"Not so fast," he said, refusing to let go of me. "We were instructed to kiss and make up."
"How could I have forgotten?" I asked, smirking.
Josh kissed me, just once, but deeply, one of his famous sloppy wet kisses, lips everywhere, tongue almost strangling me. I loved it. We practically skipped down to the parking lot, hand in hand, where the other four guys were waiting for us. Lance was standing off to the side with his hands in his pockets, and Justin and Chris looked up guiltily from the huddle they were in with Joey. I realized Joey must have been talking about us, but smiled anyway.
"We're ready for lunch!" Josh chirped.
"You've got spit on your chin," Joey said, giggling and pointing at me.
"Do not," I said quickly, wiping it away with the back of my hand as I grinned.
"Fucking honeymooners," Chris muttered, snickering.
We ended up taking two cars, as no one had a vehicle big enough to seat six. When we got to Spago, we stopped at the front of the restaurant so that the guys could have some pictures taken, and Josh again pulled me into a group shot. I was starting to feel a little like a mascot, but no one seemed to mind, so I tried not to let it bother me. I realized, too, that they were all in full-out public relations mode. Everyone was smiling, even Lance, whose entire demeanor had shifted when he got out of the car. If you weren't on the inside, you would think that everything was perfect, and the division between what I knew and what I saw bothered me through all of lunch.
"Jack, you ok?" Josh whispered, leaning over.
"Yeah, I'm fine, why?" I asked, shaking my head.
"You just seemed a little out of it for a minute," he said, taking my hand for the briefest second before letting go.
"Sorry," I said, whishing he could hold on. I felt out of my depth. "I guess I'm just distracted."
And I was. Everyone in the restaurant knew the guys. Everyone was watching and people, famous people, people I'd seen on television, were waving or stopping by our table to say hi. The guys sent drinks to other tables, and drinks were sent to us. Josh offered to take me around to introduce me to anyone I wanted to meet, but I really just wanted to have a quiet lunch, and stop feeling like everyone was looking at us. It didn't help at all that we were seated almost in the center of the restaurant. After lunch, there was another flurry of picture snapping as we left, and then Josh and I piled into Justin's car, with Lance.
I knew that Josh didn't want to sit with Lance, and I didn't want to have a repeat of any of the arguments, so I sat in the back with Lance while Josh sat in the front, staring out the window. As soon as we were away from the restaurant Lance relaxed back into his former moody state, slumping against the side of the door, physically turning away from me, not saying anything. Josh wouldn't even turn around the look at me, and I watched Justin's eyes bounce all over the car in the rearview mirror. There was so much tension in the car I was finding it hard to breathe.
"I thought we were going straight home," Josh blurted suddenly.
"Oh, I, um, I wanted to stop by the studio for a second," Justin said. It sounded a little forced, but nothing in the car sounded natural. "I didn't think you'd mind."
"No, no, I don't mind," Josh said, shrugging.
Justin slammed his car into a parking space, and jumped out, promising to be right back. Josh jumped out to follow him, leaving Lance and I in the car.
"So," I said, watching them both walk away.
Lance didn't say anything.
"Lance, I'm sorry Josh didn't want to listen to you earlier," I said.
"Leave me alone, Jack, please," Lance said pitifully. He still wouldn't look at me. "I don't want to talk to you. Please."
Wait a minute. Did Lance just ask me not to talk to him? Did he actually almost beg me not to?
"Lance, are you ok?" I asked. "I mean, I realize you and I don't really get along, but I can see that something is bothering you. Are you really ok?"
Lance finally turned toward me, His face was conflicted, still looking morose, but also sort of hopeful. His eyes searched mine, looking for something, maybe for a harsh word, or some sign of a trick. Before he could say anything, though, Justin and Josh reappeared, pulling their doors open. They both had bundles of mail in their hands.
"Hey," Justin said.
"Hi," Josh said, smiling at me. "Miss me?"
"Sure did," I answered, as Lance turned away again.
We drove back to the apartment building in silence. When we pulled in, Joey's car was parked, but he and Chris were nowhere in sight. As we got out of the car, Lance pulled Justin aside.
"Can I, um, can I talk to you?" Lance asked quietly.
"Sure," Justin said, smirking. "I'll talk to you guys tomorrow."
I thought it was a little early for him to be saying good night, being that we were barely in the middle of the afternoon, but didn't really want to question whether or not he had plans. I was still feeling a little dazed by lunch, and just wanted some time alone with Josh. Josh unlocked the door, and we walked in, but both paused as we saw a large box, wrapped in gold paper, sitting on the table.
"What the hell?" Josh asked as we approached it.
"Could be a bomb," I said suspiciously.
We found a plain gold card on top, and I had a sudden shuddering worry that it would be from the same person who had sent me the other card, the one with all of the news clippings in it. The box would be full of clippings, or dead kittens, or something. Before I could think to tell Josh not to open it he was reading it, and putting my fears to rest.
"Dear Josh and Jack," Josh began. "We know the past few days have been really rough on you, and we want to do what we can to help you get past it. Please go to your refrigerator now, and take out the champagne Joey brought you earlier. There's a bottle for each of you. Please open them, and start drinking. When you get halfway through the bottle, open the box, and have fun. Your friends, Justin, Chris, and Joey."
Josh looked at me, and we both began laughing.
"Please get drunk and then open this box?" I asked, doubled over. "What the hell is that?"
"I don't know, but they mean well," Josh said. "Should we open it?"
"I don't know," I answered. "Maybe we should follow directions."
"We could just shake it a little," Josh suggested, following me to the refrigerator.
"Here, get this open," I said, handing him a bottle. "How fast can you drink one of these?"
Josh looked at it thoughtfully.
"Let's find out," he said, smiling.
Within minutes the corks had been popped, and we were both guzzling champagne, straight out of the bottles, like a pair of high-class winos. Every time we looked at each other we cracked up laughing again, but we finally consumed half of our respective bottles. Carrying the box to the coffee table, we sat together on the couch and tore the paper open, and then removed the lid.
"Oh my," Josh said.
A paper sign on top of the box read, "Official Nsync Fun and Kinky Lovin' Kit".
"Will you guys be selling these through the fan club?" I asked, pulling a string of glow in the dark condoms from the box.
"I doubt it," Josh said, removing a dog collar.
Neither one of us wanted to wear it, so we tossed it aside with the condoms. The box was a virtual treasure trove of odd sexual toys. I wondered how and when the guys had found time to put this together, and then prayed that no tabloids had photographed them at the stores they would have had to go to in order to purchase this stuff. We tossed aside a couple of porn videos, and several dirty magazines, as we pawed through the box like kids at Christmas time, giggling and throwing packages of edible underwear at each other. We were both giddy, and kept drinking our champagne as we marveled at each new surprise.
"Here," I said, putting a police officer's hat on Josh. "Now you look cute."
"What about you?" he asked, frowning.
"I get to be the fire chief," I said, pulling a bright red plastic helmet from the box. "Want to check my hose, Officer Josh?"
"Maybe after I give you a pat down," he answered, tickling me.
"Police brutality!" I shrieked as we collapsed in giggles.
I handed Josh a pair of padded handcuffs, figuring they went more with his hat than mine, and he set them aside, reaching past me to pull out a large pair of fuzzy dice.
"What are those?" I asked.
"Love dice," Josh answered, throwing them. "Oh, look, it says 'Kiss Nipple'. I better do what they say."
I giggled again as he pulled my shirt over my head, and then put the fire helmet back on as I sat next to him, topless. Josh abruptly stopped giggling, and was just staring at me, wide eyed.
"What?" I asked, straightening my hat.
"You're just so beautiful," he said, leaning in.
I thought he was going to kiss me, but, as instructed, he kissed my nipple. He wrapped his lips in a tight circle around it, pulling the nub into his mouth. He swirled his tongue over it, and pulled at it with his teeth. I felt his soft beard sliding over my chest, and his nose brushing my pec. I reached into the box, and pulled out the first thing I found.
"What's that?" he asked, turning his head.
"Lickable massage oil," I answered, twisting off the cap. "Chocolate flavor."
He nuzzled his face against my hand as I rubbed a little into his jawline. I leaned in, and ran my tongue up the side of his face in one long lick. My fire chief hat fell to the floor, but neither one of us moved to pick it up.
"Is it good?" Josh sighed.
"Yummy," I said, unbuttoning his shirt. I smeared some of it onto his chest. "Let's try it here, too."
I licked up and down his chest like a hungry kitten at a bowl of milk, washing my tongue over his skin. Chocolate flavored Josh was even better than regular Josh, especially mixed with champagne. I smeared and licked Josh for a while, and he found a tube of strawberry flavor in the box, and returned the favor.
"What else is in here?" I asked, trying to find a way to get us out of our pants, too.
"I dunno," Josh said, tossing aside a whip and a riding crop. Neither one of us was into really painful sex. "Blindfold?"
"We've done that, remember?" I reminded him, and he tossed that aside as well.
"There's these," he said, pulling out a couple jars. He sat them on the coffee table, and pulled out two more. "Wanna paint?"
I looked at the red, green, blue, and yellow non-toxic Body Finger Paints and grinned.
"Yeah!" I giggled. "Lose the pants!"
We both jumped up, still drinking, and shimmied out of our pants, and then out of our underwear, too. I grabbed two jars, and Josh grabbed two, and we took them into the bedroom, suddenly both oddly serious. We sat across from each other on the bed and twisted the lids off.
"Paint something on me," I said.
"Close your eyes," he whispered, dipping two fingers into the red jar.
I closed my eyes and leaned back, feeling his wet fingers trace over my chest. When Josh told me to open them, I did, and looked down to see a glistening red heart.
"That's your heart," he said. "I love it, like I love you."
"My turn," I said, dipping into the blue.
Josh closed his eyes, and I drew a quick cat head on his chest, with little whiskers and pointed ears, and wrote the word, "Meow" across his collar bone. When I was done he looked down at it and giggled.
"What's it mean?" he asked, smiling.
"It's a kitty cat, because I can't draw, but I love you," I said.
"I love you, too," he said, playfully streaking my nose with a fingerful of green.
"Two can play at that game!" I giggled, running blue through his hair.
"Hey!" he yelped, grabbing for the red.
Josh smacked a red handprint onto my shoulder, and then I was reaching for the yellow, and suddenly we were wrestling in the bed, laughing and rolling around. We kept grabbing the paint jars, and were hurling and smearing colors across each other's body like over-sugared toddlers at an arts and crafts lesson. Through it all, our hard cocks slid over each other's bodies, picking up paint and leaving trails of their own, crossing the trails left by our hands and arms. We were drunk, we were covered in paint, and we were ready to get it on.
Josh fumbled into the nightstand drawer for condoms, and slid one on. Straddling him, I began to ride him as his hands traced new designs over me, a sunshine here, a smiley face there. I stared down at him, my own fingers drawing across him in equally random patterns. A spiral, a flower, a fish, all simple designs, because I wasn't very artistic. The two of us were smeared with paint, and it was all over the sheets, but I continued to ride Josh as he slowly bucked beneath me, his hands gripping, rubbing, and caressing. I began to play with his nipples, which left them painted as well, and felt his hands sliding up my back, leaving trails.
"I love you," he said, thrusting up into me.
I looked down at him, down into his wide blue eyes. His mouth hung partly open, and his face was covered with smears and streaks, running across his tanned skin and up into his hair. His high cheekbones bore the visible path of my love, and his perfect lips cut through the landscape of my painted touches. He was beautiful.
"You're beautiful," I panted. "And I love you."
We went on like that for a while, me slowly sliding up and down his pole, and him pressing his hands onto my hips, guiding me. Our champagne bottles rolled off the bed, forgotten, but they were mostly empty, and we had long since writhed through the spilled paint from the jars, smearing it everywhere across the bed and each other. Josh and I both began breathing harder, and moving faster together, and one of his hands wrapped around my cock, jerking me as I rode him. When I came, shooting glistening ropes across Josh's chest, he came as well, pushing hard up into me, almost throwing me off.
He grabbed a tissue to take care of the condom, but other than that we didn't clean up, falling asleep amid the drying remains of our evening of fun.
I woke up in the morning to the sunlight slanting across Josh's rainbow-hued body. The paint had dried on both of us, transforming the familiar lines of ourselves into something soft, and somehow alien. I slid out of bed, not bothering to put on my boxers, and went to the kitchen for a drink, thinking about how the sheets were probably ruined, but that we could get a really good price for them on e-bay if we wanted to recoup some of the cost. The again, the paint might come out. The label on the jar said that it was water soluble.
I poured a glass of water, cursing the fact that hangovers existed, and noticed the pile of mail on the table. Idly flipping through it, I saw an envelope addressed to me. Pulling it out, I felt my blood run cold, and I almost dropped the glass.
All that was on the bright yellow greeting card envelope was my name, but I immediately recognized the slanting, block handwriting. It was the same writing as had been on the newspaper clippings. And there was no postmark.
Someone had brought it to the studio, and left it for me.
Someone who knew who I was.
There, D, I wrote a chapter where they branched out and played with kinky love toys. Happy now? :)
More to come soon.