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.
Justin
We had breakfast the next day, all of us as a group, but really we were just going through the motions. Josh and Jack weren't there to tie us together, and for some reason Lance didn't show up, either. Howie, sitting across from Nick in a pair of trunks, told us that Lance wasn't feeling well, and I felt worried when I saw him quickly downplay Joey's suggestion that they drop in to check on him later.
"I'm sure he'll be fine," Howie said, glancing down at their end of the table. We were at a long rectangular table today, instead of the usual round one, and Chris and Joey were at the far end. Vlada sat next to Chris, but then there was a space on both sides of the table, followed by me and then Nick on my side and another space and then Howie on the opposite side. No one really seemed to notice that Howie was sitting down by the two of us, and none of us were fighting. "It's just, you know, something he ate."
"Oh, ick," Joey said, turning back to the conversation he was having with Chris about renting some jet skis today. Vlada looked at me for a second, her face thoughtful, and then went back to the menu.
My phone rang, and it was Lisann, calling to talk about the rest of our day and the things we needed to get together to talk about. There was a brunch the morning of the wedding, because most of the guests would be here then, and then the rehearsal dinner, and final arrangements had to be made for all of that. There were questions of whether we wanted music for those, and flowers, and Josh and Jack hadn't left specific instructions on some of the points. As I was setting up a meeting time with Lisann, and listening carefully to the list of things she wanted me to bring, I felt Nick's leg brush mine, but thought nothing of it. When I glanced up, though, I saw that Howie's face was sweaty, his mouth open a little, and his eyes were locked on Nick's. Nick's leg, next to me, was stretched across underneath the table, and I could feel his thigh flexing as he rotated it, massaging Howie's crotch with his foot, right there at breakfast.
Almost dropping the phone, I looked away quickly, stunned that Nick would be so brazen. Then again, I had told him to get caught, but still. Down at the other end of the table, Chris and Joey were completely engrossed in their jet ski discussion, looking at a brochure from inside as they argued which of the two places they wanted to rent them from and whether or not the rate was reasonable for a day. Vlada had called one of the waitresses over and was discussing something on the menu with her, with much pointing and the waitress struggling to understand what exactly Vlada was asking. Nobody seemed to notice Howie and Nick, watching each other, Nick's lips curled almost in a leer, Howie's mouth dropping open as he began to shift in his chair a little. I pulled out the notebook from my bag and began to write things down, pretending I didn't notice either.
Howie's chair scraped back as he stood, holding his bunched towel in front of him, and I felt Nick's lightly haired calf brush mine as his leg dropped back down.
"Excuse me," Howie said, his voice a little light. "I have to go to the bathroom."
Nobody really seemed to take much notice, and Nick turned to me, grinning. He leaned over, and I felt his mouth right up against my ear, his lips brushing it as his breath fluttered over my cheek.
"There's an invitation if I ever heard one," Nick sighed. "Be right back."
Nick left the table, too, as I sat there writing down all of the things that Lisann had explained over the phone. I needed to go to Josh and Jack's cottage and get some of Jack's notes, because Lisann needed to confirm a few things. I wanted them to have flowers at both of the extra meals, and decided that I would pay for them, because I wanted their wedding to be perfect, and I knew that Jack must be having a minor hemorrhage over the money spent already. It was nice to know he wasn't some gold digger out to spend everything Josh had, but it wouldn't kill him to let loose once in a while, and live a little. What was the point of having money if you didn't spend it? I realized that several minutes had gone by, and Nick and Howie still hadn't returned to the table. No one else seemed to notice, though, and I got up and walked toward the bathrooms, figuring they went to the ones around the side of the pool, because no one was over there at this time of the day.
I couldn't believe they were in the bathroom, after the screeching and crying Howie had put up the other night about Nick and I being in the one at the club, but then I realized this was exactly the kind of rub it in your face irony that Nick would get off on. Sure enough, as I approached the door I could hear them through it.
"You like that?" Nick panted, and I could hear Howie sighing sharply. "You like that? You like getting fucked by a real man, Howie? You like having my big fat cock all the way up your ass?"
Howie didn't have to answer. His moans did for him. I pushed the door open a little, being careful not to let it squeak, and as I looked through the crack, there they were. Howie was sitting up on the counter where the sinks were, his eyes closed as his body strained beneath Nick. Nick was half crouched in front of Howie, his trunks pulled down to his knees, one of Howie's legs curled around his waist, and his thighs and ass flexed as he pounded into Howie, each thrust bringing another sharp yelp. Howie's hands raked up and down Nick's back, urging him forward, his fingers leaving red marks, and Nick's arms were rigid pillars of muscle as he braced himself against the mirror, grinning at himself. Nick's bright blue eyes caught mine in the glass, and he winked at me. Stepping back, I let the door close. Turning around, trying to figure out how to get them caught and get this all over with, my heart skipped as I saw Joey and Lance walking toward me.
"Have you seen Howie?" Joey demanded, sneering at me.
"I think he's in the bathroom," I said, cringing inside as I heard the words spilling out of my mouth. I reminded myself that this was the best plan I had, and that I was trying to help Lance. The two of them turned and began walking back toward the restaurant terrace. "He might need some help, or some company."
"The bathroom's really more your scene, Justin," Joey snapped. Lance wouldn't look at me at all. I cursed inwardly as they walked away, and gave up on this particular opportunity, unable to think of a way to get them to go in there other than blurting out, "He's in the bathroom with Nick, fucking!"
I followed them back to the table, watching Joey direct Lance to the empty seat next to Howie's. I settled into mine and nodded to Lance, but he looked away. He didn't look well this morning, and was moving carefully, holding himself stiffly in the chair. I wondered if he really was sick, or if something else was wrong. When Howie came back, he kissed Lance hello, draping an arm over his shoulders. I felt my head spin. Howie seemed so loving, his touch on Lance gentle and kind, and he seemed so concerned with the way Lance was feeling as he ordered breakfast for him, telling him what to get. How could he act so loving, and still treat Lance like that behind closed doors? He couldn't possibly really care about Lance. If he did, he wouldn't do that, but if he didn't, how could he act like he did? Now wonder Lance couldn't sort it out. I couldn't do it, and I wasn't in love with Howie, like he was.
Nick slid into his chair next to me, looking pretty satisfied. He caught Howie's eye, winking, and Howie looked away, flushing a little.
"Good morning, Lance," Nick said, smiling at him. Conversation at the other end of the table jerked to a halt. "Howie said you weren't feeling well. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine," Lance answered quietly, leaning in toward Howie as Howie pressed a hand to Lance's side. I saw Lance's smile tighten a little and I almost vomited, realizing that Howie was pressing on a bruise to keep Lance from saying anything. "I'm sorry if anyone worried about me."
I couldn't speak. This was monstrous.
"How about you, Howie?" Nick asked, smiling, unaware of what was happening right across from him. "How are you feeling today?"
"Fine," Howie answered, grinning at Nick. "Pretty good, actually."
"Good to hear," Nick said, the two of them staring at each other as Lance looked down at his plate.
"I have to go get ready for my meeting," I blurted, jumping up from my seat. I couldn't stay for this. I knew it was my plan, but how could I ever have thought it was a good idea? This was just a giant mess, and I couldn't believe that no one else at the table saw anything. Nick followed me down the sidewalk.
"What is your problem, man?" he asked. "Everything's going the way you wanted it to."
"Why are you needling Lance?" I blurted. "I didn't ask you to hurt him. Why do you have to be so mean?"
"You didn't ask me to hurt him?" Nick asked, blinking. "You asked me to break up him and his boyfriend. I'm not really sure how that isn't hurting him, but hey, it's your logic. Look, Justin, we're in too fucking deep for you to go weak on me now, so you better just swallow this and shut your mouth. You're gonna get what you want, and I'm gonna get what I want, and everyone is gonna be happy, ok?"
"Don't you care at all?" I asked, staring at him.
"No, I don't," he answered. "Neither should you. Somehow you think you're doing this because Lance is your friend, don't you? You think something's wrong with Howie, and you've decided that you're going to help your friend, because you care about him, and he cares about you. You think those people are your friends, Justin? You think they're your brothers? All they do is shit on you, and tell you to like it. You need to care a little more about yourself, Justin, and to hell with the rest of these people."
Nick stalked off, and I walked slowly to Josh and Jack's cottage, fingering the key they'd left me. I pushed open the door, and felt a stab as I inhaled, smelling Josh's cologne. I walked over to the closet, running my hands down the sleeves of Josh's shirts, and sat down on the bed. Leaning over, I could smell Josh on the pillows, and I pressed one to my face, not really thinking about it. I didn't realize that I was crying until I pulled the pillow away, and saw that the case was wet. This was where Josh slept. This was where Josh lived, and where Josh was happy, without me. On the dresser, across from me, there was a framed picture of Josh and Jack, taken at Josh's parents' house in the porch swing. Josh was smiling, and Jack, also grinning, was leaning back against him. I stared at the picture, and then wiped my eyes and set the frame back down. No more of this. It wasn't fair to Josh, and it wasn't fair to me.
After my meeting with Lisann, I returned Jack's notebooks to the table where he kept everything, doing my best to put it back in exactly the right place. I checked off the things I had taken care of on his master list, and smiled, thinking that maybe, finally, I actually was helping them. I was being their friend, and I didn't care about what Nick said. They were my friends, they did want what was best for me, and Nick couldn't see that because he didn't know what a friend was. I realized that not only did Nick not care about anyone else, but he probably didn't even care about himself, either. The sooner I was done with him, the better. I thought about hanging out at Jack and Josh's for a while, since I had to go pick them up at the airport right after lunch, but realized it was just another way to try to hold onto Josh, to try to intrude where I didn't belong, so I went to go lay out on the beach. I didn't know where anyone else was, but I had a few magazines, and thought I'd kill some time.
I wasn't alone for very long when a shadow fell across my chest. Looking up, I saw Vlada smiling down at me. She was in another one of those swimsuit and matching hat outfits, like something Betty Page might wear to the beach, and I wondered if she had an endless supply of them. She spread a blanket, also matching, out next to my towel, and sat down on it primly.
"Hello zere," she said.
"Hi," I said uncertainly. "Where is everybody?"
"Crees and Joey vent out on zose sings," she said, waving toward the jet ski concession. Looking out over the water, I could see them kind of far out, away from the swimming areas. "Ze beach ees nice, but ze vater dries zee skin."
"I understand," I said, grinning.
We sat next to each other in silence for a few minutes. I didn't know Vlada very well, but she had always seemed nice, and I knew that Jack thought the world of her. He was usually a good judge of character, so I thought it would be safe to trust his instincts. As long as she was nice to me, I was willing to be nice to her. She flipped through one of my magazines for a while, as I flipped through the other, and I figured that maybe she had just come over because she was lonely, too. If you didn't really know anyone else, you gravitated toward people you were at least acquainted with.
"Yustin?" she asked suddenly, and I looked over at her. "Yustin, zees may not be zomezing for me to ask, but are you, are you o-k?"
"Yeah," I answered, smiling, but feeling a little caught off guard. "Why do you ask?"
"You zeem very zad to me, Yustin," she answered. "I vorry about you. I know zee boys are angry, but zey vill get over it."
I sighed.
"It's not just that, Vlada, but thank you," I said, smiling. It was nice of her to try to help me.
"Zometimes it ees better to talk about it," she said, shrugging. "I know ve do not know each other vell, zo I vill unterstand, but you zshould speak viz a friend, Yustin. You zshould call zome vun who can help you, zo you vill not be zo zad."
"What if there isn't anyone you can call?" I asked.
"No vun?" she asked, tilting her head to the side. I couldn't see her eyes behind the large Jackie O sunglasses she was wearing, but her face looked sad.
"Vlada, did you ever have a secret?" I asked. I wasn't going to tell her, but I had to know. I had to get someone's perspective on this, and she seemed so caring and safe. "Something you couldn't tell anyone?"
Vlada sighed, and took off her sunglasses. Her eyes were wide and green, and stared at me thoughtfully. They had a little catlike slant to them, and I noticed that she emphasized that a little with careful makeup. It was a very good job, but when you'd been groomed for as many photo shoots as I had you noticed stuff like that.
"Promiz not to tell any vun?" she asked, and I nodded. She smiled. "I'm from Missouri."
"What?" I blurted. Her accent was gone, completely gone.
"I'm from Missouri, Justin," she answered, grinning. My face must have been priceless, because she laughed, throwing back her head. I could see what Chris saw in her suddenly. She wasn't just beautiful. She was happy to be alive. "I'm not from Eastern Europe. I went to Europe for the first time when I was nineteen, on a shoot. Before I went to New York I hadn't ever even seen the ocean."
"But why?" I asked. She was lying to everyone?
"Justin, in the modeling industry, it's as much about the package as it is about the way you look," she answered. "You know that, because it's the same for you guys. There has to be a story, something extra, and my agent knew that. I was pretty, but I was from Missouri, and, even worse, I was toting around the name 'Vlada Slotnik' and didn't even have the good grace to actually be foreign. It's a family name, and my parents hung it on me without a second thought. So my agent and I talked about it, and Vlada who got on a bus in Missouri got put away. Instead, Vlada, rags to riches discovery, spotted on the street while my agent was on vacation, was born."
"I can't believe this," I said, smiling at her. She grinned at me. "Does Chris know?"
"Oh, yeah," she answered. "He thinks it's funny to hear me talking with this accent."
"But why do you?" I asked.
"Because this is who I am now," she answered, shrugging. "If I break character, even for my friends, it becomes that much easier to slip. Someone might hear, or say something, and think how bad that would be."
"But you broke character for me," I pointed out.
"Like I said, Justin, I'm worried about you," she said. "I don't know you extremely well, but I know you well enough to know you'll keep this, too. You needed to hear something, and I wanted to prove a point. There is a time for secrets, Justin, but there's also a time for telling them. Whatever's bothering you right now, and I know it's not just the wedding, find someone to let it out to, ok? Don't carry it alone."
I watched her as she gathered her things and put her sunglasses back on. Further down the beach, Chris and Joey were bringing their machines back in, and I figured Vlada was going to join them.
"Vlada?" I asked. She looked at me. "Thanks."
"Ees no problem, Yustin," she answered, winking at me.
I watched her walk away, and thought about how she was probably right. I couldn't hold this inside of me. I needed to tell someone, and it should probably be the person I trusted most in the world. Josh would know what to do. He was smart, and he would know how to help Lance, or else Jack would. The three of us together would be able to find a way out of this, a way other than my plan, which was looking more and more like a horrible disaster with every second that went by. When I picked the two of them up at the airport, though, I saw that I couldn't tell them, couldn't add this to the stress they were already under.
The two of them walked quietly down the ramp, Jack leaning on Josh, and Josh had an arm thrown protectively around his shoulders. Even though it was almost the same thing I'd seen Howie do earlier with Lance, the intent was obviously and completely different here. Howie was smothering Lance, crushing him, but Josh was cradling Jack, sheltering him. I could see that they both looked tired, but Jack looked worse than that. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he just looked drained. He smiled as I hugged them both hello, but I could see that he was strained.
"Hey," I said, hugging Josh. "Welcome back."
"Thanks for coming to get us," Josh said. He sounded tired.
"Hi," I said, turning to Jack. He held out his arms, so I hugged him as well. "How was your trip?"
"Hard, Justin," he answered quietly, squeezing me tighter before letting go. "Very hard. I don't want to talk about it right now, ok?"
"Yeah," I said, watching him step over to Josh. Josh wrapped Jack up in a tight hug.
"It's ok, Jack," Josh said quietly, holding him. "Justin and I are gonna take you home now, ok?"
"OK," Jack answered quietly. I knew he didn't get along with his family, but he looked terrible. I couldn't add to this.
Jack asked me a few questions about the wedding stuff as we went over to collect their bags, and I filled him in on everything that I had taken care of while he was gone. I explained where I had left all of the notes, and reminded both of them that we still had that menu tasting in the ballroom tomorrow. The two of them thanked me profusely, and they really did seem to mean it, but I could tell they were distracted. Jack was brooding over something, and Josh was focused on being there for him, and supporting him. I couldn't distract Josh from that, not if Jack needed him. They didn't really speak in the car, so I didn't, either. Jack sat against Josh, staring out the window, and Josh absently stroked his hair, brushing it off of his forehead. When we got back to the bungalow, Jack hugged me, thanking me again, and promised to see me in the morning. Josh and I stood on the step for a minute after Jack went inside.
"Thank you, again, Justin," Josh said, his face looking kind of sad.
"He's not ok, is he?" I asked, nodding toward the door. "Can I do anything for you guys?"
"No, no," Josh said, his hand on my shoulder. "Justin, it means a lot to me that you're trying so hard. Not having to worry about you is taking a big weight off of my mind. I know that sounds kind of mean, but I'm glad you're starting to be ok, because Jack really needs me right now. It wasn't a good trip."
"His family?" I asked. Josh nodded.
"It's worse there than we ever thought, Justin," Josh said, shaking his head. I could see that he was upset, but I expected him to be. He hurt when Jack did. It was part of their bond. "Everyone was mean to him, not just his family, but everyone we saw. He tried so hard to be strong, but he had nightmares, and he even had another attack. He's worn out, Justin. He keeps trying to act like he's ok, but I can tell. There's just a lot to process, for both of us."
"I'm sorry, Josh," I said, shaking my head. Why couldn't the two of them just be happy? They deserved to be, even if I did wish things were different.
"Thank you, Justin," Josh said, hugging me. I felt his arms pressing into my back, squeezing me tightly, and I remembered those days when we were happy. "Justin, I know it hurts you to see me with Jack, and I know it hurts you to be around us, but thank you for trying. I love you, Justin, too much to lose you."
"I love you, too, Josh," I answered. "Now go take care of him, ok? I'll see you guys in the ballroom in the morning. Good night."
"Good night," Josh said, going inside.
As I was parking the car my cell phone rang.
"Hello?" I asked.
"It's me," Nick said. "Don't come home until I call you again, ok?"
"Sure," I sighed, locking my car and starting to walk back up from the parking area.
I looked around, seeing that it was starting to get dark, and tried to decide what I should do. I had gotten dressed to go to the airport, so I couldn't go to the pool, since my suit was in my cottage. I didn't really feel like going out, and decided to just take a walk, thinking that it might help clear my head a little. I really wanted to think of something I could do for Jack, but maybe just making sure Josh's focus wasn't split was enough. I hoped again that Jack knew exactly how special Josh was, and how lucky he was to have him. As I walked toward the cottages, I heard yelling, and realized I was close to Howie and Lance's. Not again, I thought, shaking my head. Please, not again. Their windows were open again, and I peeked in just in time to see Howie punch Lance in the stomach.
"I told you last night, it doesn't matter where I'm going," Howie said, standing over him.
Lance was doubled over at Howie's feet, holding on to the side of a chair while he held his stomach with his other hand. His face was bright red, and tears were streaming down his face.
"I'm sorry," Lance wheezed, not looking up at him.
"You better be," Howie hissed, dropping down so that he was right next to Lance's face. "I don't even know why I stay with you, Lance. Every day I try to show you how much I care about you, and every day you just do something else to make me mad. Some days I feel like you don't care about me at all. If you really loved me, you wouldn't make me do this to you."
"I'm sorry," Lance whispered again as Howie stalked away toward the front door. I ducked around the side of the house, and then watched as Howie walked off, heading toward my cottage. Once he was gone, I opened the front door and stepped inside. Lance looked up from where he was sobbing, on his knees, and backed away in fear, his wide green eyes darting toward the door. "Justin!"
"Lance, Lance it's ok," I said, holding up my hands. "Lance, he won't catch me here. I just want to make sure you're ok."
"Why are you here?" Lance asked, sobbing still. I walked closer to him, and he didn't move away. If he hadn't been so upset already, if he hadn't been so weak right at that moment, he might have sent me away again, but now I could see that he needed someone, and I wanted to be that person.
"I'm here for you, Lance," I said, holding out my arms to him. Lance collapsed into them, sobbing against my chest. I was afraid to hug him, not knowing where the bruises were.
"He loves me, Justin," Lance cried into my shirt. "He used to show me, all the time, and I know he still loves me. He just gets, he gets so angry. I make him angry, and he has to, has to correct me. That's all. He loves me."
"Oh, Lance," I sighed, feeling a tear trickle down my cheek, too. "Lance, how did this happen to you?"
"It started the day he found out about you," Lance said quietly. We sat on the floor, him still pressed against me as I stroked the back of his head with my hand. "After you guys left the house, we were talking about everything, and he was still so upset, and he hit me. He slapped me across the face, and I was so surprised that I slapped him back. He got pissed, and he started to hit me, over and over, until I couldn't hit him back anymore. He saw me on the floor, and he looked, he just looked horrified. He cleaned me up, telling me over and over how sorry he was, and how it would never happen again. I was bleeding, Justin, and I hurt so bad, but I believed him, because he never hurt me. He promised it wouldn't happen again, and I believed him."
I couldn't believe it had been going on for so long, and none of us had noticed. What kind of friends were we?
"He took me away for that trip, until the bruises faded, and then he was so nice," Lance continued. "He bought me things, and took care of me, and I thought it really was a one time thing. Then a couple weeks later we were arguing about something else, and I said something, and he just hit me. Then he hit me again. He told me afterward he was sorry, and told me how much he loved me, and I realized it was my fault. He wouldn't keep hitting me if I didn't make him so angry, but now it seems like everything I do makes him angry, Justin. I know he loves me, but it hurts so much. I want things to go back the way they were, and I keep trying to be what he wants, so that they will, but it's not working. He loves me, but I can't make him happy."
"He doesn't love you, Lance," I said, shaking my head. "Nothing you do is ever going to satisfy him, Lance. He doesn't love you, or he wouldn't hit you."
Lance pulled back slowly, staring up at me. His face was so conflicted, so full of pain. He wanted to believe me, but he also believed Howie. I swallowed hard, knowing what I had to do.
"No, he loves me," Lance said, shaking his head.
"He doesn't, Lance," I said, shaking mine as well. "Lance, I can prove it."
"What?" Lance asked, blinking at me. Now he looked afraid.
"I can prove he doesn't love you," I said. "It'll hurt you to see it, but I can prove that it's true. Do you want me to?"
Lance swallowed, staring at me.
"OK," he said quietly.
I realized that Lance already knew. He didn't know who, or where, but I realized that he knew Howie was cheating on him, and just wouldn't admit it to himself. That's why I didn't have to argue too much. I took his hand, and we walked out of the cottage.
To be continued.