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.
That said, on with the show, and back to the story in progress.
I smacked the alarm clock to silence it, and Josh grumbled, shifting against me, his head resting against my chest. I started to slide out of the bed, and he grabbed my shoulder.
"Don't leave me," he whimpered softly. Looking down I realized he was still more or less asleep.
"Josh, baby, I'm not leaving you," I whispered, kissing him on the forehead.
"Promise?" he muttered, more awake now. His eyes blinked open.
"Promise," I answered, sliding out of bed. I leaned down and kissed him again as he blinked at me. "I'm going for my run. I'll wake you when I get back, ok? Go back to sleep."
"Yeah, ok," he answered, rolling over as I drew the sheet back up to his bare tanned shoulders, already drifting back into sleep.
I got dressed quickly and headed downstairs to Chris's apartment, but the door was pulled open before I could knock. Vlada stepped out, kissing me hello on both cheeks before I could even say, "Good morning."
"Ahhh, Jacques," she said, smiling. "Ees zo nice to zee you again. Chrees ees komink right now."
"It's nice to see you, too, Vlada," I said, stepping back as I stared up into her face. She might have been the tallest girl I'd ever met.
"I zaw you on zee TV," she said, smiling. "Ees fery brave, da, brave, was you do. Ees too bad you are only for zee boys, da?"
"I don't really have a problem with it," I said, and we both laughed as Chris finally appeared.
"Let me just see Vlada out to her cab," he said, grinning. I began to do my stretches as he walked her out to the parking area. I heard him talking to someone out in the lot, and when he walked back in he had a tall, bulky blond guy with him. I wondered for a second if Chris might be branching out in unexpected directions. "Jack, this is Hank. He's going to run with us from now on, OK?"
"Um, sure," I said, shaking his hand as Chris started doing his stretches. "Nice to meet you, Hank. How do you know Chris?"
Hank looked perplexed, glancing at Chris.
"Hank's a bodyguard, Jack," Chris said quickly. "He works for us. He's going to run with us to make sure we don't have a repeat of that scene at the bakery yesterday, and to keep reporters away. I didn't think you'd mind."
"No, of course not," I said, shrugging. "Why would I mind?"
That feeling of losing control of my own life, of having other people make decisions for me, washed over me again, and I tried to push it away as the three of us trotted off into our run. I knew that Chris meant well, and I could even see the logic to us having someone with us, in case Basil Morgan decided to lay in wait for us somewhere again or something, but I still would have appreciated being asked. I shook my head, trying to decide if I was taking things too personally or not. We ran mostly in silence, Hank keeping up with us easily. I assume he ran several miles a day, as part of some sort of grueling bodyguard workout schedule, but was unsure of whether or not I was supposed to talk to him, so I didn't ask. As we rounded into our last mile, though, Chris noticed I wasn't speaking.
"You ok?" he asked. "You're kind of quiet today."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I'm fine. I'm just, you know, this is kind of weird for me. No offense, Hank."
"None taken, sir," Hank said from behind us.
"Hank, are you going to be running with us every day?" I asked.
"Yes, sir," he answered.
"Then please stop calling me sir," I said. "I'll call you Hank, and you can call me Jack, ok?"
"Certainly, Jack," Hank said smoothly. Chris snickered.
"Does Josh know about this?" I asked him.
"Yeah," Chris said, puzzled. "We talked about it yesterday while you were in the shower. I guess he forgot to tell you."
"Yeah," I said, shrugging. "He had a lot on his mind yesterday."
"How'd the meeting go?" Chris asked. "You guys were gone forever."
"I'll leave that one for Josh, since it's business stuff, and I don't know what he's allowed to tell you," I said, wishing for a second I'd actually stopped to read any of those papers I had signed. "I'll just say that Stan is a toad, a fucking toad."
Behind us I heard Hank chuckle, and then quickly smother it. I grinned.
"You're all right, Hank," I laughed. "I think we'll keep you."
Chris shook his head, and we finished up. When we got back to the apartments, I shook Hank's hand, and was surprised when he handed me a card with his name and number on it.
"So you know how to reach me," he said, walking toward a car.
"For?" I asked, wondering what else I had missed. Hank looked to Chris again.
"Hank is your driver, too," Chris said, unlocking the gate. "If you need to go anywhere while we're at the studio, call him, and he'll come get you."
"Oh, ok," I said, smiling icily. I waved goodbye to Hank, and walked briskly inside, heading for the stairs.
"Jack?" Chris asked from behind me.
"I'll take it up with Josh, Chris," I said, not turning around.
"He's only trying to look out for you," Chris called.
"I know," I said, leaning over the railing. "And I'm not mad at him. We just need to clear the air a little."
I went into the apartment, stripping down as I crossed the living room. I flicked the coffee machine on, having finally mastered the Byzantine controls, and then ducked into the bathroom to turn the shower on. Finally heading into the bedroom, I pulled the sheet down a little, and tapped Josh on the shoulder.
"No," he protested, burying his head in the pillows.
"Yes," I said, laughing. I grabbed the sheet and yanked it down, exposing the twin curves of his bare ass. "It's time to get up."
"Do I have to?" he asked, still muffled by the pillows.
"Yeah, you do," I answered. "You need to bathe and we need to talk. Shower's running, Josh. Let's go."
He caught something in my tone, because he suddenly lifted his head.
"Jack? You ok?" he asked, sliding out of bed.
"More or less," I said, taking his hand. "We can talk in the shower."
As soon as I pulled the shower curtain closed Josh grabbed my shoulders and gently turned me, so that I was facing him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, that frown line between his eyebrows again. "Please tell me."
"Talk to me about Hank, Josh," I said. Comprehension washed over his face.
"I forgot to tell you," he said, and I nodded.
"Yeah, you did," I said. "I don't want us to argue about it, Josh. If you guys think I need a guard and a driver, fine, but you should have told me. I don't like it when people make decisions for me, Josh."
"I know, and I'm sorry," he said again, looking down. "I meant to talk to you about it yesterday, but then all that shit happened at the studio with Stan and Marshall, and I just kind of forgot."
"Josh, it's ok if you forgot," I said, tilting his head back up so that I could see into his eyes, and show him that I really wasn't furiously mad. "I was just really surprised, especially after everything that happened yesterday. I just, I feel like I need to know what's going on. It might be par for the course for all of you guys to have someone follow you around wherever you go, but it's not for me."
"I'm sorry," he repeated.
"Apology accepted," I said, kissing him. "Please don't spend all day beating yourself up over it, ok?"
"OK," he agreed, hugging me.
We washed up quickly, and then had a light breakfast before I walked him down to the parking lot so he could meet the guys. Justin's car was already gone, because he had to take Brit to the airport, but the other four decided to ride together.
"We're breaking at noon," Josh said, hugging me before he got in the car. "Do you want to come meet us for lunch hour? We'll go someplace casual, so you can wear whatever."
"I'd love to," I answered, happy that we were over our minor spat.
I was so happy, in fact, that after they left I began to put together a plan for lunch. Calling around, I arranged to pick up food, and decided that I would surprise them at the studio with a big lunch for all of the guys. We'd eaten together enough times that I had a pretty good idea of what they would want, and if I brought lunch I would get to pay, for once, something they never let me do. With all the arrangements made for the food, I put in a call to Hank, feeling a little awkward about it. I explained my plan to him, and he figured out what time we would have to leave to get the food in order to be at the studio at noon to set it up in the bubble. When it was time to go, I walked down to the parking lot, and Hank jumped out of the car, opening the back door. I stared at him.
"Hank, I'm not Miss Daisy," I said, shrugging. "Do I have to ride in the back?"
"Not if you don't want to," he answered, shrugging as well.
"Thanks," I said, climbing into the front.
On our way to the restaurant I asked Hank a little about where he was from (Nebraska), why he was a bodyguard and driver (it was a side job; like everyone else out here, he was an actor), and what else he'd done. He was a little hesitant to answer, but eventually opened up. We collected the food, loading it into the back seat. I didn't know if Hank was supposed to help or not, but he didn't seem to mind. We drove over to the studio, and I grabbed the bags.
"What time do you want me to come back?" Hank asked as I climbed out.
"Is one ok?" I asked.
"Jack, I work for you," Hank said, shaking his head and laughing. I really needed to get used to this, before I made an even bigger fool of myself. "If you want me here at one, I'll be here at one."
I signed in at the desk, checking my watch, and just as I finished the guys must have finished, too, because I ran into all five of them in the hallway on my way to the bubble. Josh's eyes lit up when he saw me, and his face broke into a wide grin.
"Jack!" he said, glancing down at my hands, which were holding both bags. "What's all that?"
"I brought lunch," I answered. "I didn't bring any drinks, but I figured you probably have some in the kitchen. I brought enough for everybody, and I know you guys only have an hour, so let's eat!"
"I love you," Josh said, kissing me on the cheek as he took one of the bags from me.
We poured into the bubble, Lance and Chris dragging the end tables together to set the containers out while Joey pulled the couches closer. I looked up from the bag I was unloading and saw Justin walking away down the hallway, shoulders slumped, head down.
"Justin," I called, noticing that all sound around me stopped. "I brought enough for you, too."
None of the others said anything, but I heard Josh inhale sharply next to me. I looked over, and he glanced at me, his jaw set. I stared right back at him, daring him to say something. Lance looked down, suddenly very interested in setting out the plates and napkins, and Joey and Chris watched Josh and I, waiting. The moment seemed to stretch, to play out before us like kite string in a windstorm, but in actuality it was probably barely a second or two long. Surprisingly, Lance broke it.
"Jack, you forgot to get silverware," he said, acting as if everything was fine.
"There's some in the kitchen," Joey said carefully, his eyes still fixed on us.
Josh blinked and looked away, and I looked up at Justin. He had paused in the doorway, waiting for someone to say something as well, and the look on his face wrenched at me. He was almost cringing, like a dog waiting to be kicked by a bully, and seemed almost resigned to it.
"I'll get it," Lance said, walking quickly to the door.
Justin stepped back, giving him a wide berth, and then stepped into the room, even as Joey jumped up to follow Lance, saying something about getting drinks. Joey had pulled only three couches around the tables. Josh, who was very carefully pulling the lids off of the containers and avoiding looking at me or at Justin, was sharing one with me. Chris had flung his legs onto the seat of the one he was on, and Justin looked at the empty one, realizing that it was for Joey and Lance. He walked back and pulled another couch closer, but still off to the side, not part of the grouping. I didn't say anything, deciding that I had pushed Josh enough for one afternoon, and wondering already how bad our fight would be. Besides, I didn't owe Justin anything. I'd done him enough of a favor by getting him into the room.
Joey and Lance returned, and we settled in for a quiet lunch. I had picked up the food at a little southern cooking place, so there was a lot of barbecue and greens and cornbread, and everything was very good. Eventually a little of the tension dissipated, and Joey and Chris began to talk about something they had seen on television last night.
"That sounds like it was really cool," Lance said.
"I tried to call you," Joey said. "But you weren't home. Where were you, anyway?"
"Out," Lance said evasively. "Out doing stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Chris asked.
"Just, you know, stuff," Lance answered, blushing.
"I don't think he wants to talk about it," I said quickly.
"Was it at least fun?" Josh asked, smiling at him encouragingly. "Did you have a good time?"
"Yeah," Lance said after a pause. "Yeah, I did."
"Wish I had some stuff," Chris said, pretending to look hurt.
"I saw your stuff getting walked out to the cab this morning," I said quickly. The others all snickered, even Justin.
"Yeah, well I heard your stuff last night," Chris countered, grinning. Josh turned bright red.
"Thanks for fixing our table, by the way," I said sweetly. "If we can ever do anything to, you know, repay the favor, like bringing you a handcuff key or something, just let us know."
"Ouch!" Lance snickered, as Joey began to howl with laughter.
"That's my boyfriend," Josh grinned, hugging me quickly across the shoulders. Maybe he wasn't mad after all.
"Well, this looks very cozy," Stan said from the doorway, where he was leaning on the frame. "What's the special occasion?"
"Jack brought us lunch," Justin said, as I felt the tension crawling into the room again. Josh must have told them this morning what had happened.
"And he bought it with his own money," Joey added.
"Not money he stole from JC," Chris finished.
Stan glared at me, and I glared at Stan. Josh's hand wrapped around one of mine.
"Did you need something?" Josh asked, icily polite.
"Just wanted to remind you that you're back in there at one," Stan said, pointing across the bubble toward one of the recording rooms. "Don't get distracted."
As he walked away I gave serious thought to throwing my soda can at the back of his head. I was more than Josh's distraction, damn it. Chris and Joey turned the conversation back to lighter topics again, but a pall had been cast over the rest of lunch. I wasn't sure who anyone was mad at, actually. Justin? Me? Stan? Some combination of the three? Whatever the case, when we finished everyone jumped up to clean everything up, return silverware to the kitchen, and move the furniture back. The guys were still shunning Justin, more or less, but no one actually stopped him from helping. Josh pulled me aside as the others walked into the hallway.
"Do you think you could make something for dinner?" he asked, holding my hands. "Just for us? I want to stay in tonight."
"Sure, no problem," I said. "Hank can run me to the store. Josh, are you mad at me?"
He thought about it for a minute, but then leaned in and kissed me, quickly, on the mouth.
"A little, but I think I understand," he said. "We'll talk about it later, ok?"
"OK," I answered, hugging him. "I love you."
"I love you, too," he answered, squeezing me tightly. "Thanks for lunch."
I spent the rest of my afternoon reading and flipping through the channels on the television. I caught Josh and I on the screen a couple of times, and thought again that we needed to look over that list of reporters and make a decision. Not giving out a story was probably just going to prolong the interest. Glancing at today's paper, I noticed that Basil Morgan's column made no mention of us at all. I guess there wasn't anything to gossip about if everyone knew. Checking the clock, I realized that Josh was done at the studio, and was on his way to the gym, so I decided to set the table and start dinner. I was just browning the chicken strips when he came in.
"Hey," he smiled form the doorway, still a little sweaty from working out.
"Hi there," I answered from the stove. "Go hop in the shower, and this'll be ready when you come out."
While Josh was in the shower, I brought all the plates to the table. I'd decided that we could just have wraps, so I had chicken, a bunch of different vegetables, some cheese, the wraps, and a couple dressings. I figured we could assemble our own, and that I had done a pretty good job for someone with practically no cooking ability. Maybe reading all of those Martha Stewart magazines had some benefit after all. I lit the candles, poured Josh an ice water, and was pulling my own soda out of the refrigerator when he wrapped me up in a hug from behind.
"Dinner looks great," he sighed.
"Thanks," I said, leading him toward the table. "I feel really domestic suddenly. Should I ask how your day at the office was, Ward?"
"If you want, June," he snickered. We settled in at the table and began to eat, quietly, smiling at each other when we happened to glance up. "This is really good."
"Thanks," I said. "Do you want to talk about lunch now?"
"I guess," Josh shrugged. "I'm not mad, and I wasn't really mad at lunch, either. You just really caught me off guard."
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't do it to upset you."
"I know, and the only reason I didn't say anything was because Lance was ok with it," Josh said, taking my hand. "But Jack, you know how I feel about Justin right now, and the other guys aren't too happy with him, either."
"I know, but I really do think he's sorry, Josh," I said. "I'm not saying we should all just hug him right to our breasts and forget everything he's done, but you guys did agree to let him stay in the band. He's still part of your family."
"Our family," Josh corrected, squeezing my hand. "It's your family too, now. And yeah, he says he's sorry, but actions speak louder than words."
"He'll never get to show you any actions if you keep treating him like a pariah," I pointed out gently.
"I know," Josh agreed, sighing. "It's just really hard, you know? Looking at him, and remembering the things he's done, it's just hard to want him around."
"I know, Josh," I agreed. "I mean, after I invited him, I couldn't think of a damn thing to say, but at least he was there. I'm not telling you what to do, or how to act, but I think if the four of you are doing something as a group, you should at least ask him. You're recording together, and eventually you're going to be touring together again. I've been on that bus, Josh. You're going to be spending a lot of up close and personal time with him. Maybe you should start getting used to it now, so it's not such a shock later."
"Maybe," Josh said, nodding. "I'll think about it, ok?"
"That's all I ask," I said, nodding as well.
After dinner Josh went to work in the other bedroom for a while, and I went back to my book. Eventually I got bored with reading, and went to change into a pair of trunks. I went to the other bedroom, and found Josh over the mixing board again, headphones in place. I waited until he seemed to pause, and tapped him on the shoulder.
"I'm going down to the pool for a while, ok?" I asked.
"Wait, I'll go with you," Josh said, pulling the earphones off.
Josh ran into the other bedroom while I sat on the back of the couch, and when he walked out I let out a low whistle. Josh had on a tiny black swimsuit that left nothing to the imagination. I let my eyes roam up and down over his chest and stomach, and down the muscled, tapering expanse of his legs. The dark color just set off his tan, and his eyes sparkled as he grinned at me. The only other thing he had on, like me, was his necklace.
"What?" he asked, walking toward the door.
"Nothing," I said, shaking my head. "I was just wondering if maybe they were all out of smaller suits when you picked that up."
"Hey, it could be a thong," he pointed out.
"I'd have to leave you," I said, laughing, as we walked down to the pool.
We set our telephones and towels down on one of the tables, and jumped in. We started out just swimming around, and then somehow decided to race each other from one end of the pool to the other. Predictably enough, this led to horseplay, as we tried to dunk each other, and suddenly I found myself pressed up against Josh on the side of the pool. Our bodies slid over each other as he pulled me against him, jabbing his tongue deep into my mouth. I glanced down and saw that he was popping out of the top of his suit.
"Maybe we should lose that entirely," I suggested, diving below the water.
I pulled his suit down, his cock springing out to bat me in the face, and then I surfaced for air, tossing his balled up suit into the far end of the pool. Josh smiled at me, and I grinned and ducked below the surface again, taking his cock into my mouth, trying not to get a lot of pool water in there with it. Josh was hot and velvety beneath my tongue, throbbing as I began to bob up and down on him. His hands dropped down to the back of my head, and I surfaced again.
"Easy with the hands, Josh," I said, leaning forward to kiss him as he hungrily kissed back. "I don't want to drown down there."
"Sorry," he whispered, eyes wide. "This is really hot, Jack."
"Thought you might like it," I said, diving again.
I swallowed him again, playing my tongue over him and praying that I wouldn't screw up and fill my lungs with chlorinated pool water. This looked so much easier in all the porno movies I'd seen, but there wasn't anything sexy about choking and almost drowning. I surfaced again, and we heard a loud voice calling from the archway, laughing.
"This better not be what it looks like," Chris said, walking toward the pool. It was dark enough out that we hadn't seen him approach. "No sex in the pool."
"What makes you think we're having sex in the pool?" I asked, pressing myself against Josh to shield him from Chris's view.
"Well, aside from your boyfriend there blushing bright red," Chris said, pointing at the sheepishly flushed Josh, "I can also see his suit down there on the bottom of the deep end. The pool is for swimming. Take the rest upstairs, kids."
"Busted," Josh sighed, smiling as Chris laughed.
"Why don't you stay here, and I'll go get your suit?" I suggested as Josh turned, pressing himself against the side of the pool. We heard the chimes of a phone begin playing "Drive Myself Crazy" and I smiled. "Chris, that's mine. Can you get it?"
"Sure," he answered, picking it up as I swam to the other end of the pool. "Jack's phone, Chris speaking. Hey Carla! No, Jack's here. He's in the pool. What's going on?"
I swam over to Josh and handed him his suit.
"Here, sexy, put this on," I snickered. "Chris?"
"Jack, I think you need to get out of the pool and take this right now," Chris said. "She says someone vandalized your apartment, and the police are there, and that there are reporters, too."
I swam for the ladder.
More to come soon.