Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:
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If reading this is in any way illegal where you are or at your age, or you don't want to read about male/male relationships, go away. You shouldn't be here.
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I don't know any of the celebrities in this story, and this story in no way is meant to imply anything about their sexualities, personalities, or anything else. This is a work of pure fiction.
Questions and commentary can be sent to "writerboy69@hotmail.com". I enjoy constructive criticism, praise, and rational discussion. I do not enjoy flames, and will not tolerate them.
Back to the story in progress.
Jack
I knew from the minute we stomped back to our bungalow that this was a bad idea. Yes, everyone was pissed at Justin and Nick, and yes, I could agree that they had done something extremely stupid. It was almost a textbook example of poor judgment, if they'd used any judgment at all, and I was willing to argue that they hadn't. Justin smelled like he'd rolled in beer. He may not have thought I was looking, but I always watched all of the guys when we went out, the same way I watched everything, and I could state for a fact that before he and Nick went into the bathroom he had consumed seven bottles of beer, a pretty high number for someone as thin as Justin, no matter what kind of tolerance he had. If alcohol was Justin's excuse, Nick's was worse. Maybe none of the others recognized it, although I had no idea how much experience in this area they might have, but Nick was tweaking on something. I had worked with high school students, after all, and knew that racing, glassy stare from a mile away. I wasn't sure what his poison was, but there was definitely some sort of chemical racing through him at the moment, meaning that his mental state wasn't the best for making rational decisions.
Whatever the reasons, though, what the rest of the guys were doing was an equally bad idea. Joey had herded Justin and Nick out of the bathroom as the two of them followed along, looking sheepish, but still giggling, which seemed to just enrage Joey further. Chris had been waiting outside the bathroom, to keep people from going in, and he rounded up the rest of us as we all followed out of the club, leaving together. Nobody spoke as we left, and I wasn't really sure what was going on, but Chris had told us we all needed to talk, right now, and I realized that Joey and Chris were going to launch into a lecture as soon as we got to the nearest bungalow, which, unfortunately enough, was mine and Josh's. I knew that a lecture was absolutely the wrong thing at the moment, and that a better time might be in the morning, when we'd all slept and the boys were all sober, but I didn't get a chance to even speak before we all piled into the bungalow.
"Sit down!" Joey barked, glaring at Nick and Justin.
The two of them looked at each other and sat on the couch as the rest of us milled around the room uncertainly. Howie looked pissed, but he had been ever since he had jerked Lance across the club. Lance looked a little confused, standing by Howie uncertainly. Chris and Joey frowned down at Justin and Nick, and I sat on the back of the living room chair as Josh sat down in it. I put my hand on his shoulder and he absently reached up to clasp it in his as we waited to hear what Joey and Chris had to say. I knew that Justin and Nick had been into something in the bathroom, and based on their contented, flushed faces I had a good idea of what, but didn't want to jump to conclusions.
"What's going on?" Josh asked finally, breaking the silence.
"These two," Joey began, gesturing toward the couch, "decided that a public bathroom in the middle of a crowded club was a great place to fuck."
"What?" Howie barked, as Nick giggled. Everyone's heads snapped toward the couch.
"Justin, is this true?" Josh asked, squeezing my hand.
"Yeah, we fucked," Justin answered, shrugging. I was surprised that he'd be so blunt, but realized that he wouldn't like being lectured at, and that must be what was coming. "So what? It's not any of your business, any of you."
"It is when you do it in a place where you could get caught!" Joey barked. "Do you know what this could do to us? To both our groups?"
"Guys," I said, quietly, trying to catch their attention. This was just going to turn ugly.
"What the hell were you two thinking?" Chris asked, sounding exasperated. At least he wasn't yelling, like Joey was. "Were you even thinking at all?"
"I can't believe you could be this stupid!" Howie said, practically spitting at Nick.
"Guys," I said again, a little louder.
"Actually, I was thinking about being horny," Justin answered defiantly.
"Hey, me too," Nick said, giggling again.
"What if you guys got caught?" Lance whined, shaking his head. "Oh my God."
"Justin, how could you do this?" Josh asked sadly. He squeezed my hand again.
"Look, I don't need this shit from any of you," Justin said. "Who I fuck is my business. Me getting caught isn't any worse than people finding out about Lance and Howie, or Josh dragging Jack down the red carpet."
"Josh asked!" Joey snapped. "Lance and Howie are careful!"
"Justin, it's not whether or not you're sleeping with guys," Chris said. "It's the time and place. Josh dragging Jack down the carpet is a lot cleaner than you fucking Nick in a fucking toilet."
"Get off my fucking back!" Justin yelled, his face turning red.
"Yeah. He already got off mine," Nick said, giggling again. I had to cover my mouth with my hand, realizing that everyone would kill me if I laughed, too. It wasn't funny, not really, but at the same time I couldn't help it.
"You stupid, fucking piece of shit!" Howie screeched, Lance pulling at his arm.
"Guys!" I barked finally, my voice carrying over everyone in the room. Everyone's head snapped toward me now, and I felt strangely uncomfortable suddenly. "Can we just, please, take this down a couple notches before someone gets slapped?"
"Maybe someone needs to slap them!" Howie snapped, glaring at me.
"I think Jack's right," Lance said quietly, and Howie spun toward him, eyes flashing. Lance flinched back, almost cowering, and Chris put a hand on Howie's shoulder.
"Thank you, Lance," I said, trying to sound soothing. "Can we all just breathe for a second, please?"
Joey threw up his hands, walking away from the couch as Howie shrugged out of Chris's grip, sneering at me again. Justin sat back on the couch, his arms crossed, chin thrust forward defiantly. Nick sat up, and then stood.
"Look, guys, I don't need this shit," he said. "None of you are my mother."
"Nick," Chris said, as Nick crossed the room to the door.
"No," Nick said, pulling it open. He turned back, looking a little annoyed, but mostly his pretty face just looked blank. "Justin, if you want to stay and listen to a lecture from the mother hens, have a good time. I'm going back out."
Justin looked from Nick back to the rest of us, and then to Nick again.
"Fine," Nick said, making the decision for him. "Later."
The door closed behind him, but Justin made no move to get up.
"Good riddance," Howie said, not bothering to mutter.
"Hey!" Justin said, glaring at him. "Could you maybe try to keep your Backstreet shit from spilling over onto the rest of us? It's getting kind of old, Howard."
"It wouldn't be such a problem if you hadn't brought him," Howie said icily.
I could see Justin getting ready to say something really nasty, and I jumped in.
"Howie, when we planned this trip we said everyone could bring whoever they wanted to," I said. "Josh brought me, Chris brought Vlada, Justin brought Nick, and Lance brought you."
"Look, Jack," Howie began, staring at me coldly. "What they did tonight could have affected both our groups. Our careers. Our livelihood. It's a little more than who's friends with who, and it's not really your area."
"It's Jack's area, too," Lance said quickly, before anyone else could say anything. Howie glared at him again, but Lance didn't shrink on this point. "Jack is part of the family."
I wanted to add that Howie was rapidly working his way to being our black sheep, but didn't think it would be productive. Still, I was pissed, and Josh, sensing it, squeezed my hand again. Who the hell was Howie to tell me whether or not I belonged? I may not be part of either band, but like Lance said, I was part of the family, and I cared about what happened as much as any of them. Josh stood, not letting go of my hand.
"Guys, look, it's late, and everyone is kind of upset," he began, looking around the room. "I understand that everyone's really pissed, but I don't think we should all gang up on Justin like this. I'm sure Justin realizes what he did, and what could have happened, but I really think it might be best if we all go to sleep, and think on this some, and maybe talk to Justin and Nick individually in the morning if anyone still wants to."
Everyone looked around, and finally seemed to see the sense in what Josh was saying. Joey and Chris started moving toward the door, and then Howie and Lance. I smiled at Josh, thinking that he'd done a really good job, and he smiled back at me, a little sadly. Chris paused at the door, the last to leave.
"Justin, we're just trying to help you," he said sadly. "That's all."
"I don't need your fucking help, Christopher," Justin said icily.
"Fine," Chris said, shaking his head. I could see that he was pissed, but he left without saying another word.
Justin started to stand, and Josh shook his head.
"Justin, could you stay for a minute?" Josh asked. "Please?"
"Fine," Justin sighed, sitting back down.
"Good night everyone," I said, shutting the front door behind Chris as they all stomped off down the walkway. I turned back to Josh and Justin. "Josh? Do you want me to um, go for a walk or something?"
"No, stay, please," he answered, sitting down next to Justin on the couch. Justin watched him warily, and I went to the kitchenette, looking for something to drink, as Josh stared at Justin. "Justin, I didn't want to say this in front of everyone else, but I'm worried about you. I'm tired of you telling me everything's fine, because I can see that it's not. Everyone can. Please, Justin, please just talk to me."
Justin looked at Josh, and then glanced at me.
"I don't feel like it," he said, shrugging. "If that's all you wanted, I'm going."
"Justin, please don't do this," Josh said. "I'm worried about you. I don't want to lecture you, but I'm worried about what's happening to you."
"Josh, I don't want to talk about it," Justin repeated stubbornly. Josh continued as if Justin hadn't spoken.
"I'm worried about your drinking, Justin," he said, looking down. "I'm worried about the way you look sad all the time. I thought maybe this trip would be time for us to hang out, but you don't ever seem to have time for me."
"I don't have time for you?" Justin asked. "What about you? Every day it's wedding this and wedding that. It's all I hear about from you anymore."
"I thought you wanted to be the best man," Josh said, confused.
"How could you think that was what I really wanted?" Justin asked, his composure cracking a little. "Did you stop to think how that would make me feel? Did you?"
Justin was standing now, facing Josh, his face red as his eyes welled with tears. Josh stepped back, and I could see that this was catching him off guard.
"Justin, how am I supposed to know how you feel about the wedding?" Josh asked. "How am I supposed to know how you feel about anything when you won't tell me?"
"Josh, I don't want to talk to you about how I feel," Justin said bluntly, and I could see that it took Josh by surprise. "I don't want to have a deep, heart to heart where we cry everything out and it all turns out ok tomorrow. Just back off, ok? I'm tired of having you in my shit."
"Justin, I can't do that," Josh said, taking his arm. Justin jerked away from Josh's touch. "I don't like what's happening to you, ok? I don't like what you're turning back into. It scares me, Justin. I'm scared that you're going to get hurt, or that you'll hurt someone else."
Justin stared at Josh with frosty disinterest, and I felt myself getting pissed. I felt bad for Justin, but really he was pushing me a little past my tolerance, too. There were only so many times you could make excuses for him, and only so many excuses you could make. Josh stood before Justin, his arms open, reaching out to him, with tears standing in his eyes, and Justin watched him, and then turned away.
"I don't care what you like," Justin said finally. We couldn't see his face, because he'd turned away, but I watched Josh's shoulders slump. "I don't care what you're scared of, either. It's my life, Josh. Have a good night."
Josh turned away, wiping at his eyes, but Justin didn't even look at him. He pulled open the door and walked out without looking back, closing it behind him. Josh turned to me, tears trickling down his cheeks, and I stalked across the room.
"Jack?" Josh said, grabbing my arm.
"Fuck this," I said, grabbing the door handle. "I'll be right back."
I jerked the door open and slammed it closed behind me. Justin, already at the end of the sidewalk, jumped. He turned and saw me, and I watched him quickly wipe at his own eyes as I walked toward him. When he turned to me, his face was blank again, but I knew him too well to be fooled by that.
"What?" Justin barked.
"Don't 'what' me, Justin," I snapped. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I hope you didn't come all the way out here just to lecture me," Justin sighed.
"I hope you're not really expecting me to buy the spoiled brat act," I sneered. "I'm out here because the man I love is in there, crying, again, because of you. Do you know how much pain you're causing Josh? Do you know how much you're hurting him?"
"How much I'm hurting him?" Justin snapped, stepping toward me. "What about me?"
"Justin, both of you told me that he was honest with you," I said, crossing my arms. I was getting really tired of riding on Justin's pity train. "You knew he didn't love you, and now he's trying to be your friend. He's trying pretty fucking hard to be here for you, and I watch him, every day, trying to reach out to you, and you just keep shitting on it."
"Maybe that's all I can do right now!" Justin snapped, his eyes watering again. "Maybe that's all I feel like doing! I think I'm trying pretty fucking hard not to shit on you, but I forgot, you don't ever see anything but fucking Josh."
"How am I supposed to see anything else, Justin?" I snapped. I felt my temper fraying, and realized I was being just as bad as the guys. I wasn't helping, either. "Justin, I'm trying to help you, ok? I don't know how, because you won't let me, but I'm trying."
"Well stop fucking trying!" Justin snapped. "Why do you always have to be such a fucking social worker? Do you have any idea how annoying that is? How fucking tired I am of always having you around trying to get everyone to kiss and make up? I'm not your fucking project, Jack."
Justin turned away from me, and I thought about trying to stop him. What he'd just said was still ringing through my head, though, and it stung. All I wanted was to help, and you couldn't help people who didn't want it. Justin glanced back over his shoulder.
"Nothing else to say?" he asked, smirking.
"No, Justin," I said crossly. "Have it your way. I'm tired of beating my head against your wall. You don't want my help? Fine. You want to drink yourself into oblivion every night? Be my guest. You want to get high on whatever Nick's doing? Have a great fucking time. Oh, and don't forget to fuck everyone on this end of the coast while you're at it, ok? Have a fucking blast. I'll see you at breakfast, and try not to annoy you with my concern. If you decide that maybe you feel like listening, or talking, or just having a friend, you call me, but until then I won't let you hurt Josh again."
Justin walked off into the darkness, heading toward his cottage, and I turned and walked back into ours. Josh was waiting at the door, and he wrapped his arms around me as I held him tightly. He laid his head on my shoulder and sighed.
"Josh, you ok?" I asked.
"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I should have pushed him away, Jack. I shouldn't have been so, I don't know, so needy, but when you were gone, I was in so much pain, and I didn't know you were coming back."
"Josh, it's too late for that," I said, feeling hot tears on my neck. "It's too late, and it doesn't matter now."
Josh leaned back, looking down into my eyes. His face was filled with pain, and I felt myself getting even more pissed at Justin, despite the fact that I knew Justin was hurting just as badly. And as much as I had wanted to, I wasn't helping Justin, either. I'd lost my temper, and now pushed him completely away.
"Jack, why can't we help him?" Josh asked.
"Because he doesn't want us to," I answered.
Justin
I walked slowly back toward my cottage, my head spinning as I realized that, once again, everyone was pissed at me. I'd managed to push everyone away again, even Jack, who had been trying so hard to reach out to me. I just couldn't listen to it anymore, couldn't listen to everyone yelling at me, trying to tell me how to live my life. And I was tired of everyone telling me that they knew how I felt. They didn't. No one did, but they all kept trying to push me, kept trying to tell me how I should feel, and what they thought I should do. The only person who didn't was Nick, but I was starting to feel like I shouldn't be listening to him either. Nick kept telling me not to worry about anything, to just do what felt good, but if that was the right way, why did I just end up feeling more and more empty?
I sighed, wishing again that I knew how to fall out of love with someone. Why is it so easy to go one way, but not the other? As I walked past Lance and Howie's cottage I heard raised voices, and, curious, walked closer, seeing that the window was open. The curtains were closed, but I could hear just fine. Howie was screaming at Lance, really screaming, and Lance was sobbing.
"How could you do that to me?" Howie screamed. "How could you embarrass me like that?"
"I thought Jack was right," Lance answered, sobbing. "I said I was sorry. Please, please don't yell at me."
"How could you disagree with me like that?" Howie demanded again. Lance just sobbed. "And over Justin? Justin!"
"Howie, please," Lance whined, his voice squeaking. "Please don't be mad."
"For Justin!" Howie yelled. "I saw you with him at the bar, Lance! I saw you!"
"Howie, please," Lance pleaded again. He sounded panicked, and I wondered if I might be able to see better from the other window.
"What did I tell you about him?" Howie demanded. "What did I tell you?"
"Howie," Lance said, and then his voice was cut off by a slap. I gasped.
"What did I tell you about Justin?" Howie demanded again. "It's not enough that you let him do that to you, is it? You had to tell all your friends, and couldn't tell me! You kept me strung along for months, and they all knew! How could you do that to me?"
"I said I was sorry," Lance sobbed.
"Sorry? You're sorry?" Howie demanded.
I heard Lance cry out, and the meaty sound of flesh hitting flesh. I heard it over and over again, thumps punctuated by Lance yelping, and through it all Howie kept screaming at him. I knew, in the back of my mind, what I was hearing, but couldn't believe it. Not Howie. It wasn't possible, but I was listening to it. I was listening to Lance cry out in pain as Howie hit him, over and over. Howie raged through it all, like a madman.
"You think I didn't see you? You think I wouldn't notice you talking to him? What did I tell you, Lance? What did I tell you? I told you to stay the fuck away from him! Why can't you listen to me? What's wrong with you?"
Lance sobbed, still yelping, and I reached my fingers through the open window and managed to snag the curtain. Lance was curled up on his side on the floor, holding himself, trying to protect his head, and Howie was standing above him with his fists curled, his arms flexed as he breathed heavily.
"Get up," Howie hissed coldly.
"Howie, please," Lance sobbed, his words barely comprehensible.
"Get up!" Howie yelled, grabbing him by the hair. He jerked Lance up and Lance screamed, a high, piercing scream. I realized that I was holding my hand over my mouth and my eyes were wide with shock. Howie slapped Lance across the face and dropped him back to the floor. He dropped down, his voice dropping as well. "I won't let you embarrass me again, Lance. I won't let you make a laughingstock out of me. You think I don't know that they all had a good laugh over it? You think I don't know that Justin laughed all the times he came over and ate at our table, knowing he had you like that, and you let him?"
"Please don't hit me anymore," Lance said quietly, his voice breaking.
"I should just leave you right now," Howie said, standing.
"No!" Lance said, grabbing Howie's pant leg.
"Why not?" Howie demanded. "You don't care about me. If you did, you wouldn't make me keep doing this to you."
"Howie, I'm sorry," Lance sobbed, trying to get up. "I won't disagree with you anymore. I won't talk to Justin anymore, I promise. Please, Howie, I love you. Please don't hurt me anymore."
Howie sighed, dropping to his knees.
"Lance, I'm just trying to do what's best for you," he said, shaking his head. "I wish it wasn't like this, but you just keep making me do this. You think I like being this upset? I wouldn't do this if you didn't keep making me so mad, Lance. I'm not hurting you, Lance. You're hurting yourself."
"I know," Lance whispered. "I know. This is all my fault. I'm sorry I keep making you mad. I'm sorry. Please don't leave me, please don't leave me alone. I'm sorry, Howie. I'm sorry."
"I don't know if I believe you," Howie said, standing. He walked into the bedroom.
Lance watched Howie go and stood shakily, holding onto the couch for support. He was holding his side, and he winced as he began pulling his shirt over his head. I gasped again when I saw his chest, which was a mottled collection of bruises and marks. This wasn't the first time Howie had hit him. Lance used his shirt to blot at his face, and then began to undo his belt as he walked into the bedroom, after Howie. I sat on the ground, trying to figure out how to deal with what I'd just seen. Everything made a lot more sense now. The way Howie wouldn't let Lance out of his sight, the way Lance had seemed so withdrawn for the past few months. This had been going on right under all of our noses, and none of us had seen it, because we were all too caught up in our own problems.
I walked numbly back to my cottage. Nick was on the couch, in his boxers, watching television when I walked in.
"Hey," he said, glancing up at me. "You ok?"
"I don't know," I answered.
"That bad?" Nick asked, and I wondered if he knew. No, he barely spoke to Howie. Nick was as good at watching people and getting inside their heads as I was, and if I hadn't caught it, neither would he. "You want to play the Playstation?"
"No," I said, shaking my head as I began to untie my shoes.
"Do you want a drink?" Nick asked. "Or a blowjob?"
"No, thanks," I answered, smiling. Nick's predictability was oddly comforting. I kicked off my shoes and walked to the bedroom. I stopped in the doorway, glancing back over his long, muscled form as the light from the television washed over him. Nick was watching me, one hand holding the remote and the other not-so-casually scratching his balls through his boxers. "Nick, I'm just gonna go to bed, ok? I don't really wanna, you know, do anything, ok?"
"Are you sure?" he asked. "It'll help you fall asleep."
"No, thanks," I repeated, grinning. "Maybe in the morning."
"OK," Nick said, shrugging. His hand wandered into his boxers as he reached for the tissue box with his other. Nick would be ok just fine by himself. "Night, Justin."
"Good night, Nick," I said.
I brushed my teeth and stripped down to my briefs, climbing into bed. I heard the television playing on low volume, and then heard Nick sighing to his solitary climax. After a while, he got cleaned up and climbed into bed, too, and surprisingly he spooned against me, draping an arm over me comfortingly. I wanted to fall asleep, but couldn't. Too many thoughts were racing through my mind, and I kept hearing Howie, hitting Lance over and over, and knew that I hadn't done anything to stop it. Lance was in trouble, and no one knew but me.
And Lance wasn't allowed to be around me.
How the hell was I supposed to help him? And who could I turn to with this one? If I hadn't heard it, hadn't seen it, I wouldn't believe it. I knew from personal experience that Howie could dish out a good beating when he was wound up, but he and Lance seemed so devoted to each other. And I'd pushed everyone else away. Joey was pissed at me, Chris was disgusted, Josh was hurt, and Jack was out of patience because I hurt Josh. Who could I talk to about Lance and Howie? The only person I could think of was Lance. I just had to figure out a way to do it.
I fell asleep, finally, trying to come up with a plan.
To be continued.