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.
OK, disclaimer over. Back to the show.
I woke up just before the alarm, but Josh was already out of bed. I slid out from between the sheets and got dressed, and poked my head into the other bedroom, where I saw Josh seated at his mixing boards. He had the headphones on, so I couldn't hear what he was working on, but he was working intently, sitting on the chair barefoot in his boxer briefs and a black beater. I crept up behind him and dropped my hands to his shoulders, kneading the spot where his neck met them. He rolled his head back and smiled up at me.
"Hi," he said, sliding the headphones off of his ears.
"Good morning," I said, leaning down to kiss him. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Good," he answered, blushing a little. "You running?"
"Yeah," I answered. "I thought maybe Chris and I could stop by the bakery and grab some muffins when we go past. You want?"
"Sure," he answered. "I'll go turn on the coffee maker. I love you."
"I love you, too," I replied, walking out toward the door.
I passed the table on my way out, noticing that Josh hadn't touched it. In the morning light, it looked pretty bad. The fruit bowl was still in the middle of the carpet, and there were oranges everywhere. There was clothing everywhere, too, and I grinned, remembering how much Josh had paid for those outfits, and how much trouble we'd gone to picking them out. Two of the chairs were still standing, but two were lying on their sides, where our falling bodies had knocked them over. Both legs had snapped off of the left side of the table, and it had come down right on top of an orange, which was dried in an attractive spatter across the carpet. I frowned. If Josh was going to let it wait, then I could, too, and I walked past the wreckage and out the door.
As I came around the side of the walkway, heading for the stairs, I saw that Chris was already walking last night's lucky girl out to the parking area. Unlike his usual companions, who more or less strutted out to their cabs, this one was doing a definite walk of shame, with a hat and sunglasses on, and her head down. As a cab beeped out front she scurried from the archway, keeping her head down, and I caught a flash of sequins and leather pants as she vanished from sight. I tried to figure out where I'd seen her, and it clicked as Chris walked over to me, and we began stretching.
"Morning," he said, bending.
"Chris, was that Christina Auguilera?" I asked, pretty sure that it was.
"I'm not saying nothing," Chris answered, grinning.
"Nothing about what?" Joey asked, stepping out of his apartment in boxers and a t-shirt to go get his mail.
"About Chris's genie in a bottle," I answered, giggling.
Joey's face scrunched up.
"Eyyyyew, Chris!" he said, shaking his head. "She's scary. Someone needs to feed her."
"Oh, I fed her something," Chris said, standing, puffing his chest out with his hands on his hips.
"You're disgusting," I said, smiling as I stood. "That was beyond an overshare. Living with you guys is like being locked in a frathouse."
Joey laughed as he walked over to the mailboxes.
"Oh, I'm disgusting?" Chris laughed. "What the hell was going on upstairs last night? I was going to come up and check on you, to see if you were both alive."
"Nothing," I said, blushing. I could feel my face burning. "Can I ask you a completely non-related favor? Do you have any tools?"
"For what?" Chris asked, cocking his head to one side.
"We, um, kind of broke our table," I began, blushing even more.
"Is that what that was?" Chris burst, clapping his hands over his mouth as he began to shriek with laughter.
"What did I miss?" Joey yelped, hurrying over and jumping up and down. "Tell me! Tell me!"
"Jack and JC had sex on their table last night and broke it!" Chris yelped, as the two of them collapsed in braying guffaws of laughter.
"I hate you both," I said, grinning against my will, my face so hot it felt like it might melt. "Chris, let's go."
"Maybe you should stop at the hardware store!" Joey screamed at our backs, tears running down his face.
"I don't know why I tell the two of you anything," I muttered, as Chris and I began to jog through the neighborhood.
Chris, in his wraparound sunglasses and ever-present jogging dewrag, was completely unwilling to elaborate any details about his encounter with that girl, who may or may not have been Christina Auguilera. We kept up a fair pace through the streets, noticing the same people we noticed every morning. I wasn't sure, but I thought people were glancing at us a little more than they usually did. Of course, it could have just been my overactive imagination. I had explained to Chris earlier that I wanted to stop at the bakery, so we jogged in. I wasn't too worried about us being all sweaty and in running clothes, because people in all states were at the bakery in the morning: dog walkers, executives, kids on their way to school, other joggers.
We waited patiently in line, and when we finally got to the counter I began to pick out muffins, oblivious of the way the muffin girl was looking at us, her eyes ticking back and forth between Chris and I.
"Chris, do you want any?" I asked, deciding that I should probably just get an even half dozen. Maybe we'd invite Joey and Lance up.
"Chocolate!" he said, pointing, and that was when I heard one of the school girls behind him.
"Oh my God, it is them!" she said loudly to her friend. "It's Chris, and JC's boyfriend!"
"Oh, shit," Chris whispered as I fumbled for my wallet.
"Oh my God! It is!" her friend squealed.
"I thought it was you guys!" the counter girl said, ringing me up. She pointed at the pink triangle pin on her apron strap. "Rock on, brother."
I wanted to fall through the floorboards. People around us were speaking, loudly, about who we were and how they'd seen us on television last night.
"Jack, we need to get out of here," Chris whispered quietly in my ear, even as he smiled politely at everyone around us.
"No shit?" I hissed, smiling as well.
"Hey fag, is he your boyfriend, too?" someone in the back of the crowd said.
My head whipped around as the people around us twittered. People might tell you that they think something is wrong, or that they always stick up for other people, no matter what, but the ugly truth is that most people will just stand by and watch something happen rather than get involved.
"Hey, we don't take that talk in here!" the register girl barked as I took the muffin bag.
"No, he's not my boyfriend, but he's my friend," Chris said loudly, scanning the crowd.
"I bet!" someone else snickered.
"Knock it off!" the counter girl yelled, smacking the countertop with her open hand.
Chris and I began to make our way to the door, still smiling politely at everyone, offering a "Good morning" or an "Excuse me" as we brushed by people.
"Maybe JC's just confused," one of the school girls suggested to the other.
Chris and I pushed our way outside, and I wanted to sit on the sidewalk and wait for all of this to go away.
"Jack, come on," Chris said, taking my arm. "Come on, just walk away. Don't let them see you upset."
I jerked away from Chris, and then realized he was only trying to help.
"Chris, I'm sorry," I said, as we began to walk quickly back up the street. "I, just, I don't know. Did you hear what they said? Did you hear them? And they were all looking at me."
Chris sighed, and we began to jog again, muffin bag in hand.
"Jack, you must have been called that before," Chris began, and I glared at him.
"That doesn't make it hurt any less, Christopher!" I snapped. He looked away, flushing.
"I'm sorry," he said, glancing away. "That was a stupid thing to say. It didn't come out right at all. I'm sorry, Jack."
"I know you didn't mean it, Chris," I said, looking down. I wanted to cry. "I didn't mean to snap at you."
"It's ok," he said, his eyes wide with concern behind his yellow glasses. "Let's just get home."
I was trying really hard not to show it, because I just wanted to keep myself together long enough to get back to Josh, but inside I was a mess. I don't like to have people stare at me, or judge me. It had been a long time since someone had called me a fag in public, and I was well out of the habit of shouting back. I've never understood why some people feel threatened by the way other people live their lives, and I've always surprised by the casual way people can be so hurtful to others. All I wanted was to get back to the apartment, shut the door, and be with Josh. Chris didn't really say anything. I think he realized that I was pretty upset, and he was afraid of pushing me in the middle of the street. Unfortunately we had one more obstacle to get past before we could get back into the apartments.
Basil Morgan was leaning against the wall by the archway as we rounded the corner.
"No," I whispered, my feet carrying me relentlessly forward.
"Not now," Chris muttered under his breath, shaking his head. I don't think he meant for me to hear, but then he raised his voice. "Come on, Jack, let's just go inside."
We tried to ignore him and just walk past, but he stepped in front of us. No way was I going to push his slimy rat bastard ass out of my way. I might get grease stains on my clothes.
"You owe me a story," he said, stepping right up into my face.
"Leave me alone," I said, stepping around him.
"He owes you shit," Chris said, stepping between us as I fumbled my keys out.
"We had a deal!" Basil said, trying to step toward me. He seemed reluctant to touch Chris, or shove him out of the way, which I figured was probably a good thing.
"I said I'd think about it," I said, not turning around.
"Look, man, why don't you just leave them alone?" Chris said. I could tell by his voice that he was losing patience.
"The public has a right to know!" Basil sputtered. Was he actually going to claim freedom of the press as a way of prying into my life? This was unreal.
"The public already knows," Chris said as I pulled the gate open. "Now why don't you just leave?"
"I won't forget this, Jack," Basil yelled over Chris's shoulder.
"I don't care what you do," Chris said as I hurried inside. "Two words, Morgan: Restraining order. Now get the fuck outta here."
"This isn't the end of this!" Basil yelled as Chris stepped back and swung the gate shut in his face.
"Yeah, it is," Chris said, turning back to me. I shook my head, my eyes squeezed closed, as I forced myself to breathe. All I wanted was to go upstairs, back to Josh. Chris put a hand on my shoulder and began leading me toward the stairs. "Come on, it'll be ok."
"No, it won't," I said weakly.
We swung open the apartment door, and I wanted to laugh at the absurd scene before me. The table was now flipped all the way over, the two intact legs sticking up in the air as Joey and Josh hunched over it with a small toolbox, trying to reattach the other two legs. Josh had put on a pair of baggy track pants, and was talking distractedly into his phone as he handed Joey screws. Joey was cursing and swearing, and had his thumb in his mouth. Both of them looked up as we walked in, and they must have seen something in our faces, because they both stood, dropping everything, as I hurried over to Josh.
"I'll call you back," he said, hanging up the phone and dropping it as I practically ran over and wrapped my arms around him, dropping the muffin bag onto the floor.
"Jack?" he asked, his voice shaking a little as his strong arms folded over my back, pressing me against him. I could feel his firm chest against mine, but I didn't want to talk. "Jack, what's wrong?"
"What happened?" Joey asked.
"There was kind of a scene at the bakery," Chris explained, picking up the muffin bag. "People said some stuff, and then when we got back here, Basil Morgan was waiting outside."
"That prick," Josh said, moving toward the door. I didn't let go of him, burying my head in his shoulder, and he stopped.
"What the fuck did he do to Jack?" Joey asked menacingly.
"He's pissed about not getting the story," Chris said. "I think he's probably gone now."
"Jack, are you ok?" Josh asked again, squeezing me tightly in his arms, muscles bulging against me. "Jack, please talk to me."
"Everyone was looking at me, Josh," I said weakly, my face pressed into his shoulder. I was pretty close to crying, but didn't want to. "And they said things, Josh, things about you and me. They were so nasty."
Over Josh's shoulder, I saw Joey and Chris looking anxiously at us, as if unsure of what to do. Josh began to pull me toward the bathroom.
"It's ok, Jack, it'll be ok," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "I love you, and I'm here now. Let's go get you a shower, ok?"
Josh's phone began to ring from the floor.
"JC?" Joey asked, looking down at it.
"Leave it," Josh snapped angrily. "Whatever it is can wait."
"Josh?" I asked, noticing for the first time that he looked pretty upset as well. I realized that he had when we walked in, before I'd said anything. "Josh, what's going on?"
"After your shower, ok?" he answered, flicking on the bathroom lights. "We'll get you rinsed off, and calmed down, and then we can talk about it, ok?"
"Sure," I said, tugging off my shirt.
Josh stared at me from the doorway, and then crossed back over to me. Tilting my head up, he stared me straight in the eyes.
"Jack, I love you," he said again. "Whatever happens, we face it together. Do you want me to stay in here with you?"
"No, I'll be ok," I answered, leaning in to kiss him, quickly, on the mouth. "I love you, too, Josh."
I took a long time in the shower, mostly just standing under the spray and collecting myself. I didn't really understand why I was so upset. Like Chris said, I'd been called stuff like that before. And as for Basil Morgan, there really wasn't much else he could do. It's not gossip if it's true, and Josh had taken all the power away from him. I think I was just mostly upset by the sudden feeling of losing control of myself. It was when all those people had looked at me in the bakery, and all they were thinking was, "It's JC's boyfriend." Where did that leave me? I crossed the hallway to the bedroom, wrapped in my towel, and saw Joey and Chris still working on the table, arguing over which tools to use and where to put the screws. Behind them, Josh was on his phone again, arguing loudly with someone.
"No, it was my decision," he said, pacing angrily across the living room. "No. No. No, I don't care. Look, it's my life. Isn't this what we pay you for?"
That didn't sound good at all. I quickly got dressed and rejoined the guys in the living room. Josh hung up his phone and handed me a cup of coffee.
"Feel better?" he asked, his hand on my shoulder.
"Yeah," I answered. "Now what's going on?"
The three of them looked at each other.
"Well, it's been kind of a busy morning," Josh began.
"There's a lot of shit flying around over last night," Joey said bluntly. "You're on the MTV News, of course, and Access Hollywood, and the E News Daily, and Entertainment Tonight, and I think you even made the local news last night. There's also been a lot of chatter on the radio this morning, and the phone's been ringing off the hook."
"Who's calling?" I asked, looking to Josh.
"Management," he answered, shrugging. "I have to go in this afternoon and meet with them."
"What?" Joey asked as his and Chris's heads jerked up.
"You didn't tell us that," Chris said.
"What are you meeting with them for?" I asked. Everyone else suddenly seemed really concerned. What was I missing?
"They want to discuss all of this," Josh said, handing me a muffin. "I kind of didn't tell them what we were planning last night, and the publicity crew isn't sure of how to handle it. There's a list of magazines that want to interview us, not just the whole band, but also me and you, and reporters, too. And the website is down. So many people have tried to hit it today that it froze and crashed."
"JC, you don't have to go to that meeting by yourself," Chris began.
"Chris, I'll be fine," Josh said. "I'm not going to run away from this. This was my decision, and I'll deal with whatever comes of it. Jack and I will, together."
"Not just you two," Joey said, crossing his arms. "We all agreed to support you on this. If you need us, call us."
"Yeah, we got your back," Chris agreed.
"I don't understand any of this," I said, sitting down with my muffin. "I mean, what's the big deal? Nobody acted like this when George Michael came out."
"Yeah, but he hadn't had a hit in how long?" Joey asked, shaking his head. "Seriously, this isn't quite the same. He got caught. This was voluntary."
"I just don't understand why people would be so upset," Josh said, sitting next to me on the couch. "Last night everyone seemed really happy."
"Guys, I hate to break this to you, but last night, everyone was pretty caught up in the moment," Chris said, sitting across from us. "Last night, everyone was clapping, but this morning there's some minister on the news telling people to burn our records. It's going to be rough for a little while."
"Wait, people want to burn our CD's?" Joey asked.
"Yeah, I saw it on the news this morning," Chris said, shrugging. "Apparently we're promoting an unholy lifestyle, and corrupting the youth of America."
"Fucking right wing assholes," Joey said, shaking his head.
Josh and I both sighed, leaning on each other on the couch.
"I still don't understand," I said, looking at all three of them again. "Why is this turning into such a big story?"
"Slow news week?" Josh suggested.
"And Rolling Stone says we're the biggest band in the world," Chris added, grinning.
"Please tell me you're not listening to your own publicity," I said, laughing.
"We could turn on the TV and listen to some of yours, instead," Chris suggested, smirking.
I looked at Josh, only to find him staring at me. His eyes were wide, his face smooth, except for the tiny frown of concern between his eyebrows.
"Josh, this is insane," I said, shaking my head. "And it's only going to get worse. What are we going to do?"
"We'll get through this," he said, leaning over to kiss me.
"Don't you guys have a bedroom for that?" Chris said, throwing a balled up napkin at us.
"You're just jealous," Josh said, laughing. I smiled.
Whatever snappy comeback Chris was about to make was cut off by knocking at the door. The four of us looked at each other, looked at the broken, upended table, and looked at the door again.
"Come in," Josh yelled, as we waited to see if it would be Jackie, come to bust us for wrecking the furniture.
Lance walked in, a bundle of papers in his hand. He smiled at us, stepping inside.
"Hi guys," he began, and then glanced down at the table, his eyes bulging. "Oh my God! What did you do?"
"The nasty," Joey answered in a flat deadpan, chewing thoughtfully on his muffin.
"Huh?" Lance asked, looking at the table again. Suddenly it all clicked in his head, and he looked up at Josh and I as we both turned bright, flaming red, his mouth dropping open in indignation. "Oh, you guys! I ate off that table!"
Chris and Joey howled with laughter at this as Lance pulled one of the dining room chairs into the living room. I held out the muffin bag to him, and he took one as I looked at the stack of newspapers in his other hand.
"What are those?" I asked, pointing.
"Joey called me and said to pick up all the papers on my way home from the clinic," Lance answered. We all looked anxiously at him when he mentioned the clinic, our laughter briefly silenced, but he didn't seem to notice as he set the papers down on the coffee table. "Oh, corn muffin! Thanks!"
Chris leaned forward, picking up the first newspaper.
"So, let's see how you guys did," he sighed, scanning the front page.
"We might as well turn on the TV, too," Josh said unhappily, reaching for the remote. I pulled myself in a little closer to him as I reached for a newspaper, and he absently wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Better see what people are saying before I go meet with the management."
The five of us pored over the newspapers as we finished our muffins, taking tiny breaks to refill our coffee. Chris found a bunch of grapes in the refrigerator, and we began to pick those over, as well, as we paged through the news. Every once in a while we glanced up at the television, which we left on MTV (somehow none of us thought this would be newsworthy enough for CNN; we were right, of course), and we read the stories we found out loud to each other. Lance had grabbed a wide selection of papers, maybe twelve in all, and we were in every single one of them. Most of them carried that picture of Josh and I kissing, and I remembered the thousand flashbulbs going off at the time. At least now I knew who twelve of them belonged to. We were only a story on the front page of one paper, thank God, one of the local smaller papers that was only about show business, but we were mentioned in a box or a blurb on all of the other front pages, directing people to the entertainment section, the lifestyle section, and in one odd case to the world news area.
Most of the newspapers included the story in their larger stories about the awards, which I thought was completely appropriate, and most of the tone was either neutral or slightly favorable. I guessed that we would have to wait a few days for the editorial columns to fire themselves up. Almost every story made mention of the fact that members of the band, the management, and the publicity department could not be reached for comment, or would offer no comment at this time. The most jarring thing, though, was seeing my own name in print. Every story included something like, "Chasez's 'boyfriend', identified by Chasez as Jack Springer, was also unavailable for comment".
"Why would they want comments from me?" I asked stupidly, as Josh squeezed my hand.
"Jack, you're a celebrity now," Chris said. "And you're half of the hottest story in music right now."
"That's because you're half of the hottest couple in music right now," Josh said, kissing the side of my neck.
"No PDA!" Joey said, grinning, pretending to shield his eyes.
We were interrupted by another knock at the door, and Lance got up to answer it as we all stared at each other, shrugging. Lance pulled the door open, stepping back, and then turned sheet white when he saw who it was.
"We heard there was a coming out party over here," Britney said cheerily, walking in.
Justin followed a few steps behind her. He paused at the doorway, staring at Lance, and Lance stared right back at him. The rest of us were frozen in our seats, watching.
That's not a real cliffhanger, is it?