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 stood in front of the mirror, checking myself in the two side mirrors, turning this way and that, twisting to see how the jacket would ride when I danced in it. I grabbed the chair behind me, checking to see how the pants bunched when I sat down, and then stood up and bent at the waist, wanting to know how the suit would look if I dropped the ring because I was nervous as hell. I didn't want the six hundred people I didn't know, unless meeting them at awards shows and charity functions counted, to think I was poorly dressed if I fainted at the front of the reception hall, or to think that my ass looked enormous when Josh and I were dancing our first dance as a smug married couple.
Behind me, Lisann watched patiently, not tapping a foot, her hands with their beautifully manicured nails painted to match her periwinkle suit folded carefully over her clipboard. Before we'd started this, I had thought that Josh was an overbearing perfectionist, but since I started immersing myself in this wedding, we were discovering that I was just as bad. The two of us together were like one of those unbeatable super teams from a comic book, out to make the whole world completely perfect and kind of pretty, or at least our definition of it. Lisann, truly a competent professional, rode through all of our moods without batting a tastefully masacaraed eyelash. She had come highly recommended, and had handled any number of celebrity and society weddings, some of which Josh had attended. We were her first gay wedding, but she and her army of assistants, none of whom we ever saw, were determined to treat us just like any other couple, and we both appreciated it.
I motioned for Josh to come stand next to me, as he was wearing the same tux, and I wanted to see how we looked together as much as I wanted to see how it looked on me alone. Josh was smiling good naturedly, trying to distract me with kisses, but I was trying to stay all business. We only had four tuxedos to try on today, the four we had agreed together would be our final choices. If it was up to Josh, we'd probably be getting married in lime green polyester, or something made of leather, so I had more or less taken charge of the suits, wanting us to look classy and elegant, but also not wanting us to look stuffy. A lot of people would be watching, and photos would be released and probably printed in all sorts of magazines, so I also wanted us to look up to date, and kind of sharp.
"Is this still a maybe?" Josh asked, as I took his hand, put his other hand on my hip, and danced in place with him for a second as I watched in the mirror. I looked into his bright blue eyes, sparkling above his tan cheekbones, and thought about how luck I was to have him.
"No," I said, leaning forward to kiss him quickly on the lips. His eyebrows shot up.
"No?" he asked, surprised. "But I like this one."
"I know, Josh, but we can't wear these," I said, turning him toward the mirror. "The jacket loses its line when it's unbuttoned, which means we'd have to keep them buttoned the whole time because they're cut so tightly. That means when we sit, the jacket is going to bunch. And speaking of sitting, the pants are already creasing here, and here, and I've only sat down in them three times. By the middle of the reception they're going to look like we slept in them. Not only that, but this fabric just feels odd, and I don't want it touching me for seven or eight hours."
Josh rolled his eyes, glancing at Lisann in the mirror.
"Lisann?" he asked, apparently not willing to give up on suit number two without a fight. Lisann smiled, her glossy lips parting to reveal gleaming white teeth.
"I have to go with Jack on this one," she said, her shoulders moving in an almost shrug. "I know you like this one, but I think you should pick something that you'll both be comfortable in, and it really sounds as if Jack will not be comfortable in this."
"But Jack, it's Prada!" Josh whined. If I let him do this we'd have leopard printed cumberbuns.
"Sorry, style queen," I said, grinning. "The Prada is out. Go put on number three, ok? I'll see you in a second."
We walked quickly to our separate dressing rooms to get changed again. The tailor didn't look like any tailor's shop that I'd been in recently, but that was Josh's world for you. Every store we went to looked like a living room, and people just brought us clothes along with the coffee. Even growing up with money, not on Josh's scale, of course, I hadn't spent much time in places like this. Josh had suggested, half serious, that he and I could share a dressing room, but I insisted that we not give Lisann the impression that all gay guys were like beasts in heat, unable to keep from pawing each other at every possible opportunity. Josh argued that Lisann, dealing with newlyweds and almost newlyweds as a career, was used to seeing people paw at each other, but my sense of decorum won out, barely, over my desire to watch him get undressed over and over.
I stripped carefully out of number two, arranging it back on the hangers as best I could, knowing that someone else was just going to go back behind me later to rearrange it. I'd never worked retail, so I had no experience putting clothing back together. I quickly got dressed in tuxedo number three, doing up the buttons, making sure I had everything fastened correctly. As I was pulling on the jacket my hand brushed something in the sleeve, and, lifting my hand toward my face, I saw a small tag, attached to the sleeve by a string. Turning it over, my eyes went wide as I saw that it was the price.
"Josh?" I called, walking nonchalantly back to the mirrors. Suit number three looked really, really good, but I was pissed.
"You haven't even sat down in it yet!" Josh protested, bursting from his dressing room. I couldn't believe that he could do a thirty second costume change beneath a stage, but still couldn't beat me out of a dressing room.
"Did I say anything yet?" I asked, noticing that the suit still kept its lines even when I stood with my hands planted on my hips. It damn well better at that price.
"No," Josh answered, his head cocked to the side as he studied me. "But I can tell that something's wrong. Are you going to make me guess?"
"Here's a clue," I said simply, raising my arm. The price tag dangled discreetly from the end of the sleeve.
Josh's mouth dropped open, and he glanced at Lisann, who inhaled sharply, the first crack I'd ever seen in her composure. Not speaking, she made a quick note on her pad with a tiny gold pencil, and I wondered if it was not to show me any prices or if maybe it was to flog the underling who had forgotten to remove this one.
"Jack, it's Hugo Boss," Josh began, as if this somehow made it ok.
"It costs more than my first two cars put together," I said, shaking my head.
"I thought you were taking all the tags off," Josh said to Lisann, who frowned delicately.
"That was supposed to have been taken care of," she answered, underlining the note she'd just written with such force I thought the pencil would snap. Oh yeah, it was definitely a flogging memo. I realized that this wedding was as important to Lisann, whose entire career was built on reputation, as it was to us, and I suddenly wanted to smooth this over.
"Lisann, this isn't your fault," I said quickly, taking Josh's hand. "The money argument isn't anything new for us."
"And it's not really an argument," Josh added. "I like to buy Jack things, and Jack doesn't like for me to pay for them, especially if I didn't buy them on super clearance at a department store. He's a tightwad sometimes."
"Jerk," I muttered, but it was through my smile. "Besides, I though you liked me tight."
Lisann tilted her head, smiling, her tightly pulled French twist of blond hair catching the lights in the room. She didn't even blush, although Josh was turning bright red at my comment.
"Jack, look at it this way for a moment," she said. "This is a day you're going to remember for the rest of your life. Every time you look at Joshua, you're always going to see him as he'll be right at that moment when the two of you become one in front of everyone you know and everyone who matters to you, and that's the way he's going to see you, as well. When he looks at you, don't you want him to see you looking your very best? You might think the suit is expensive, Jack, but the memory will be priceless. I think you should finish trying these on, pick the one you both like, and not give a second thought to what it costs."
Josh was grinning at her when she finished this tiny speech, and I wondered if it was a monologue she'd used before. Still, it did kind of put things in perspective for me. Josh was going to pledge his undying love to me, again, and I wanted to quibble over a few thousand dollars. I suddenly felt very selfish, and I grabbed him, planting my lips firmly on his. His eyes widened in surprise, but I was already pulling back before he could think to jam his tongue into my mouth.
"Josh, I'm sorry," I said quickly, feeling tears well up in my eyes even though Lisann's speech hadn't been anywhere near that inspirational. "I'm sorry. I know you just want this to be perfect, and I do too, and I'm sorry I'm being so stupid and petty."
"It's ok, babe, it's ok," Josh said, hugging me.
Lisann smiled, and sent us back into the dressing rooms to try on the last pair of suits. When we were finally done, and had selected one we both agreed on, we gave her the list of all the guys' measurements, and then picked out something for Carla, too. Justin was the best man, and Carla was the maid of honor. We wanted her to look nice, but I was still a little worried about her being the only female in the entire wedding party. Lisann assured me that this would be fine, and as she made appointments for fittings and alterations for all of us, Josh and I settled back, accepting coffee for me and tea for Josh from the tailor's staff.
"Now then," Lisann began, pulling a stack of papers from the folder on her clipboard. "There are a few other things to take care of. We have final menu tasting in three days in the resort ballroom. You're going to be having a little bit of everything, so you might not want to eat anything before hand, and I'll be sure to bring some Tums. Joshua, the florist agreed to the price you suggested for the centerpieces, and the engraver says that the glassware will be done a week prior. I have him doing an extra case, just in case anything gets dropped or broken, but we should be completely ready to go on that. There is one other thing, though."
Josh and I glanced at each other, wondering what could possibly be wrong now. Last time Lisann had made a statement like that, it had been to tell us that the limousine service we had scheduled had just gone bankrupt. Now I wondered if the resort might be under notice from the county board of health or something. Lisann was always so polished that I felt pretty unsettled just by seeing her purse her lips and try to find the right words to explain this to us.
"It's about one of the responses that has come back," Lisann said, folding her hands again, the offending response card caught beneath them. She and I both kept a list of who had replied and who they were bringing, but the cards all went through her first. "I'm not sure if there is a good way to say this or not, so I'm just going to come right out with it. Jack, your parents aren't coming to the wedding. Their card came with the batch this morning, and I didn't want to tell you over the phone."
"Thank you, Lisann," I said quietly, stirring my coffee.
"Did they say anything?" Josh asked, stroking my shoulder. He couldn't take my hand, because I still had both of them on my coffee cup, which was shaking a little, betraying the unconcerned front I was trying to project. I didn't look at him, or at Lisann. "Did they write a message or something?"
"No, there's no note," Lisann answered, passing us the card. She sounded very sad, and I could sense that they were both watching me. I glanced at the card in Josh's hand, and saw that the "I am unable to attend" box was neatly and efficiently checked.
"Jack?" Josh asked, as I stood and walked over to the window, still carrying my coffee.
"They didn't come to my college graduation, either," I said quietly, my back to both of them. "They didn't approve of the college that I chose, so they didn't pay for it, thinking that I would relent and go to my father's school. Instead I paid for it all myself, but when I graduated, they didn't come. I sat with all of my friends, and when we looked out at the seats, there was a little empty slot where my family was supposed to go."
"Jack?" Josh asked again, right behind me.
The coffee cup was still shaking, so I set it down on the windowsill, but then didn't know what to do with my hands. I turned, and Josh was right behind me, his eyes wide and blue and concerned, and I felt myself dissolve. I buried my face in his chest, bursting into tears, as his arms circled me, holding me tightly. I felt his pecs against my face, and felt his heart beating through his shirt as I tried to understand why I was so upset suddenly.
"Lisann, could you?" Josh began.
"Of course," she answered, already sounding further away. "Take as long as you need."
I heard a door close, and just leaned against Josh, holding onto him. I was starting to feel like a hysterical bride after all. It seemed like every five minutes one of us was bursting into tears. Josh's hands were soft, his fingers barely touching me as he smoothed my hair back off of my forehead. I leaned into his neck, inhaling his aftershave, feeling how silky smooth his skin was, and how warm.
"Jack, I'm sorry," Josh whispered, trying to comfort me.
"Why?" I asked, feeling my tears level off. I kept holding him, feeling soothed just by the proximity. "I don't even know why I'm so upset. I mean, really I should be used to this by now."
"That doesn't mean you have to like it," Josh said, running his hands in circles around my back.
"They're doing this because they don't approve, Josh," I said, stepping back finally. He leaned down and began to kiss my tears away. "They didn't approve of my college, so they didn't go. They don't approve of this wedding, so they're not coming. Like I said, I really should be used to it."
"Well, you'll still have my mom and dad," Josh said, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. I know he didn't mean to set me off, but suddenly I was just tired of all of it, and I was pissed. Josh's eyebrows went up in surprise as he saw my face change.
"Fuck this," I snapped, grabbing the coffee off of the windowsill. I slammed back a huge gulp. "Josh, I love your parents. You know that, and so do they, but this is the most important day of my life, and I'm not having that empty spot in the row again. You're the only person I'm ever going to love, and I don't care whether they like that or not. I'm not letting them get off this easy. They're not going to just check off a box on the reply card and send a nice gift."
"What do you want to do?" Josh asked, still holding the card. I could see the look on his face again, and realized what he was thinking. Since my ordeal, Josh had mentioned more than once that I had changed, that I had become harder inside, and I could tell that he was thinking it again now. "Jack?"
"We're flying out, Josh," I said, finishing my coffee. I began to gather up my papers. "If they're not coming, they're going to say it to my face. They're going to look me in the eyes and explain it to me, and they're going to do it in front of you, too. My whole life they've done things this way, and I've just shrugged and tried not to let it bother me, but I'm not doing it again, Josh. We're going to fly out there in the morning, spend the night, and fly back. I'm not letting them off this time."
I felt Josh's arms around me again.
"OK, Jack," he said, holding me. "OK."
"They've shown up to both of my brother's weddings, Josh," I said. "The least they can do is tell me why they won't come to mine."
We went to go finalize plans for the rest of the week with Lisann, to make sure that we could squeeze this trip in after all. We'd go back, get everyone together for dinner, and then pack and fly out. We'd be back in a flash, still getting that personal time the two of us had wanted, and I would have it out with my parents. For the first time since I had graduated from high school, I was going home, and Josh would be by my side. I never once stopped to think about whether or not the trip was a good idea. I should have. Just when you think things are bad, there's always a way for them to get worse.
Justin
Our dinner was small and quiet, and it was almost just us. If you counted Jack, as we more or less did at this point, it was just family. It was hard to believe that Jack and Josh had only met a year and a half ago, and that for almost a year of that they hadn't even had any contact with each other. During that time, all of this could have changed, because I could have reached out to Josh, but I'd blown that chance. And since that time, so much else had changed, too. We were still brothers, still the five best friends in the world, but there was a lot of water under the bridge, too, and the flood threatened to rise again.
Lance sat as far from me as possible. I didn't speak to him at all, not wanting to upset him, not wanting to upset him again or make him feel threatened. I wanted Lance to feel safe around me. I wanted him to feel like if he needed me, if Howie went too far, or if my plan worked and I got the two of them separated, that he would be able to come right to me, and I wouldn't judge him or hurt him or anything else. He looked a little down, and a little withdrawn, but I think everyone else chalked it up to him missing Howie, who still wasn't back yet, and I didn't want to say anything that might contradict their impressions. Still, it was a lot harder than I thought it would be to just sit there and pretend that everything was ok. I wished, not for the first time, for a drink, to take my mind off of things, but I had resolved to start pulling myself out of the spiral I'd been in, and part of that was not letting Nick pull me back into the haze. I needed to keep my head clear.
The big surprise from dinner was Josh and Jack's brief announcement that they were going to fly out in the morning to visit Jack's family. We all knew that Jack and his family didn't get along. If we hadn't realized it before, and he hadn't told us, we would have known when he was in the hospital. They hadn't come to see him one time, and I tried to imagine what it would be like to have people like that as your parents. If anything happened to me my mother was on the phone immediately, and I had only recently broken her of the habit of flying out immediately if she didn't like my answers.
"When was the last time you saw your folks?" Chris asked Jack, who seemed angry, but also a little sad about the whole thing. Jack glanced up at the ceiling, as if the answer might be there. Josh had started doing the same thing now if you asked him something he had to think about.
"At my brother's last wedding," Jack answered. "They're divorced now. My brother, not my parents."
"You haven't been home for anything else?" Joey asked, looking amazed.
"No," Jack answered, shaking his head. "I haven't been inside their house since I graduated from high school. When I went away to college, I never came home during the summers, or on the breaks."
"And you're ok with that?" Joey asked again.
"I'm used to it," Jack shrugged. Josh squeezed his hand comfortingly, and I felt bile rise up in my throat.
"I don't think we should talk about this any more," Josh said quickly, his tone light, but enough to let us know this was no longer up for discussion. I forced myself not to think about how nice it must feel to have Josh riding in as your knight in shining armor to protect you.
"Do you guys need a ride to the airport tomorrow?" I asked. Everyone at the table glanced at me, surprised I would even ask. Josh smiled, and Jack looked pleased.
"I'd really appreciate that, Justin," Josh said, grinning at me. I realized that I really had hurt him by pushing him away so hard, and so often. I needed to do a lot of work to get us back the way we were supposed to be.
"Thank you," Jack said, smiling at me, and I understood that he didn't just mean for the ride.
On our way out of the restaurant I called out to Lance in the hallway. He almost didn't stop, I could tell, but he glanced around and saw people watching, since I'd called his name so loudly. Lance walked carefully up to me, crossing his arms, but he still looked scared, too. His eyes darted around, as if waiting for Howie to come along and catch us speaking.
"What do you want now?" Lance hissed angrily.
"I just wanted to say, about earlier, that I didn't mean to upset you," I said, watching as he stared impassively at me. "I'm not going to keep bringing it up, but I just want you to know that I'm here if you need someone to talk to, and I'm not going to tell the others."
"Good," Lance spat. "Because there's nothing to tell. Howie loves me."
"OK," I said, shrugging, beginning to walk away. "But if you decide that love doesn't mean being a punching bag, I'll be here for you."
"Justin, you don't understand," Lance said from behind me. "It's not Howie's fault if he gets mad sometimes. It's mine. Howie loves me."
I glanced back over my shoulder, and thought that he looked more than just sad. He looked defeated. Howie was breaking him. His anger was crushing Lance, destroying him, slowly snapping little pieces of him off.
"It's not your fault, Lance," I said, shaking my head. "I thought you learned that in all that therapy you went to. It's not your fault, and people who love you don't hurt you."
"You don't understand," Lance repeated stubbornly, unable or unwilling to actually meet my eyes as he stared at his feet.
"You're right," I said. "I don't."
I walked away, checking my watch. I needed to get back to the bungalow and get ready for Nick to come back. He would be tired, probably thirsty, and, more than likely, kind of horny, and I wanted to be sure to address that. I had a plan, finally, but I wouldn't be able to carry it out alone. I needed help, and I needed someone who wasn't going to ask a lot of questions. If I told any of the guys what I was doing, they would want to know why, but with Nick all I would have to do is explain what I needed, and he'd probably go along with it. The fact that people might get hurt, even if everything went as planned, would probably just be more of an incentive for him. Nick was a born instigator if I ever saw one, even more so than me.
Back at the bungalow, I shut off all the lights, and lit all the candles I could find. I made a big pitcher of martinis, and then stripped down to my briefs. I knew that Nick was incredibly turned on by the sight of me in my little white underwear, because he was no different from almost everyone else who saw me in them, but just to be on the safe side I went and found the smallest pair I had and changed into them. They were almost painful to sit down in, but they clung to my ass, and in the front you could see every ripple of my cock as it pressed and strained against the fabric. I squeezed my pink nipples, rolling the tips around in between my fingers until they were hard, and then I sat back to wait. I didn't wait for very long before I heard Nick's key in the lock. He walked in saw me on the couch, and stopped dead in his tracks, staring down at me, his eyes crawling over my body.
"Honey, I'm home," he said, smiling carefully as he stood with his hands on his hips.
I walked over to him, making sure that he was watching, and pressed the glass in my hand to his lips. He smiled and slowly drained the whole thing as I poured it into his mouth. Pressing myself against him, touching him with as much of my body as I could, I brought my mouth to his.
"I want some of that, too," I whispered, just before I plastered my lips down on top of his, jamming my tongue inside.
Nick moaned against me, closing his eyes, and I reached down and grabbed his hands, bringing them around to my ass. Now that he had my permission, he began to squeeze and knead my asscheeks, grinding my crotch into his as I writhed and pressed my entire body against him. He continued moaning into my mouth, his hands still working at the hard muscle of my ass, as I slowly backed him up to the couch. When the backs of his legs hit it, I pressed him down into it, keeping myself on top of him. Reaching around again, I slid his hands inside my briefs, so that they were now rubbing over my skin, and he groaned again as I undid his zipper and belt, almost tearing his pants open. I felt the hard tube of his cock and hauled it out into the open, stroking it quickly with both my hands as he continued to moan and sigh beneath me.
Nick was sweating now, and his hips were jerking up toward my hands as I quickly beat his meat, flogging his hard, dripping prick as I continued kissing him with all the fervor of a chewing gum commercial, fighting his tongue with mine. His hands continued to squeeze and pull at my ass, his fingers brushing the crack. Nick's well muscled body was hard and tense beneath mine, and his face had an expression of strain mixed with pleasure as he urgently chewed my tongue. I ran one hand over the top of his pink cockhead, palming it, as I jerked the other down the shaft, and suddenly he was yelping, breaking the seal of our lips as he tossed his head back, the cords in his neck jerking out as he shot wetly between us. I brought my hand to my mouth and began carefully licking off my fingers as he caught his breath beneath me.
"Jesus, Justin," he sighed.
"Welcome back," I said, standing. I grabbed his empty martini glass from the floor, glad it hadn't broken on the carpet. "Want another?"
"Sure," he sighed, staring at me from his place on the couch. He looked absurd sitting there, fully dressed, with his pants open and his dick out. As if realizing this he began to strip out of his clothes. I watched him for a second, and then walked over with his martini, bringing the pitcher with me and setting it on the end table. I handed him his drink. "Thanks."
Nick stared up at me expectantly as he sipped his drink and I stood above him in just those briefs, my now hard cock almost bursting out of them.
"Hey Nick," I began, standing with my hands on my hips, the fingers spread casually. "What would you say if I asked for your help with something?"
"I'd ask what the something was," he answered, waiting. I smiled at him, giving him my best Justin Timberlake, hot boy next door look.
"I want to break up Lance and Howie," I said bluntly. His eyebrows shot up. "And I need your help."
Nick looked thoughtful for a second. He hadn't immediately dismissed the idea, so I figured I at least had a foot in the door.
"Not that I've agreed to this, yet," Nick began, sipping his drink again. "But what would you need my help with?"
I swallowed, pretending not to be nervous.
"I need you to seduce Howie," I answered.
"Just like that?" Nick asked. "Not that I don't think I can, but you just want me to seduce somebody I have to work with, and fuck up his personal life, because it's something you want?"
I smiled at him again, a sexier smile, and idly ran a hand up and down my chest, calling his attention to the muscles there.
"Don't worry, Nick," I said, hooking my thumbs into my waistband. "I'll be sure to make it worth your while."
"Oh really?" he asked, his blue eyes sparkling. "And what are you going to give me?"
"Something I know you want," I answered, skinning my briefs down and stepping out of them. My cock jutted out in front of me like a spike. "You seduce Howie, and let Lance catch you, and I'll give you the one thing you haven't had, something no one else has."
"No one?" he asked, excited, like all guys, by the idea of conquering a virgin.
"No one," I answered, grinning at him. "Do it, and I'll give you my ass. Do me this favor, and I'll let you fuck me."
Nick's face split in a wide grin.
To be continued.