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.
That said, we now continue.
When I went to sleep I was curled around Justin. He'd been so groggy and tired that after I said goodnight to Lance I'd helped Justin tug his clothes off, stripping him down to his briefs, and he'd collapsed back onto the bed. I was a little amused at seeing that a full day with the press and a couple of beers could tired him out, but he'd been so worn down lately that I guess it wasn't really that much of a surprise. After I stripped down to my boxers and turned the lights off I closed the bedroom door and spent a couple of minutes getting him under the sheets. He wasn't necessarily a bulky guy, even though he was well muscled, but he was tall and kind of dense somehow, especially when he was unconscious.
There was a feeling to Justin that was hard to describe, something that gave you a little shiver when you touched his bare skin and felt him relaxing back into you. It was something about the way that he surrendered, the way he melted into every touch, the way he acquiesced. Justin was always in charge, except for when you touched him. If you patted his shoulder, he leaned into your hand. If you held his hand, he squeezed it tightly. He craved physical contact, and he welcomed it. When we were making love, he answered every brush of my skin across his with a sigh or a whimper or some other sound of surprise mixed with awe, satisfaction, and need. It wasn't the feeling of his hands, firm and strong but soft and gentle all at once, or even of his skin, velvety warmth on top of hard, flexible muscle. Instead it was the feeling of his acceptance.
I felt it as I slid into bed behind him, sliding my hands around his chest, feeling it rise and fall under them. I felt his nipples, pink and springy, firming up to hard little points just from having my hands pass over them. As I held his chest tightly, feeling the press of his pecs and the flex of his abs, less pronounced but still definitely present, he settled back against me. My hands smooth down the few sparse amber hairs dusted across his pecs, not even enough of them to be called a patch, and I knew that in a day or two they would bleach out in the sun, lightening to a fine gossamer transparency, and he let out a breathy gasp, almost a sigh, but didn't wake. The cherub on his back, a large design between his shoulder blades capped with the word "Guardian" and a wide smattering of freckles, his mother's initials emblazoned across the sash, pressed into my chest as he leaned back against me, and I kissed the back of his neck once before I settled my head onto the same pillow as his and fell asleep.
When I woke up we'd turned somehow, in our sleep. Now it was me curled up on my side, and Justin was wrapped around me, holding me in the spiderlike clutch I'd come to think of as Justin's octopus grip. It was very warm, and very close, and if you were the claustrophobic type, it might almost be too much for you. I was used to it, though, and understood that it was something else Justin did unconsciously. Justin held onto the things he cared about, physically and metaphorically, and I knew he wouldn't let me go, not as long as he thought he loved me. He wouldn't give up on his mom, he wouldn't give up on JC, and he hadn't given up on me, pummeling his way past all my walls and defenses and then scooping me up when he had what he wanted and holding on for dear life.
I hadn't realized how much I needed that, needed someone to need me and hold onto me, but Justin had, because he needed the same thing. Justin needed someone to love him, but he also needed someone to love. Without it, he wasn't complete, and he'd recognized the same need in me when he met me. I'd held onto the memory of Matt, and I'd convinced myself that his arms were still holding me, but the truth was that it hadn't been enough. I was slowly sinking before Justin came, and now he'd taken my whole world and opened it up again, allowed me to think of myself as someone who needed someone else. I just wasn't sure if the person that I needed, the person that I wanted to be with to love me and hold me and make me feel complete, was Justin, and that was a problem.
Justin required a lot of sleep, with all his work dancing and singing, so I didn't want to disturb him. As a response, I'd perfected a move that I called the "Bait and Switch" for when I wanted to slip out of bed and away from Justin without waking him. It was no easy task, as he held on tight, and as soon as you moved his arm he grabbed you again, so I'd come up with this strategy, and so far it had worked, because I always made it back to bed before he woke up. Grabbing a pillow, I carefully slid it down my body, and as I removed Justin's hands, I made sure the pillow was where my torso should be. As Justin reached out for me, flailing unconsciously and murmuring to himself, I wrapped his arms around the pillow and slid out of bed, pulling the sheet back up over him and smoothing my hand over his hair, once, just to soothe him.
Satisfied, I pulled on a t-shirt, grabbed my phone off of the dresser, and crept quietly into the hallway. I knew Joey was prone to walking around the house in boxers and a t-shirt at night, so I figured that was fine. I didn't want to run into him, though. I needed to talk to a friend, but I didn't want it to be Joey, and I waited to hear if he might be checking on Bri. Things seemed quiet at that end of the house, Lance's door was closed, and nobody was downstairs as I crept through the kitchen. The security system was armed, but Kelly and Joey had given me the code, and I punched it in as I walked out onto the back patio. The pool was lit at night, even if no one was in it, and I knew there were a couple of bodyguards sleeping in an apartment in the poolhouse, but figured that they would recognize me if they woke up and saw me on one of the chairs.
I dialed, and it only rang twice before Michelle picked up, blearily muttering into the phone.
"Hello?" she mumbled.
"Good morning, sunshine," I said brightly, staring into the pool. It was too hard, in the middle of this urban sprawl Joey's house was plunked down in, to see the stars, something else I missed from home.
"Chris?" Michelle asked. I heard the noises someone makes when they move around, sheets rustling, the bed squeaking lightly. "What the fuck? I mean, hi, how are you?"
"I'm good," I said, chuckling. "I miss you. I miss all of you guys."
"We miss you too," Michelle said warmly. "Now, what the fuck are you calling at two in the morning for? Is everything ok?"
"Everything's fine," I said. It felt so good just to talk to her, almost like I was talking to all of them. It felt almost like I was home, and it drove home the point that maybe I really didn't belong here. "I just, you know, wanted to check on the store. How's everything going?"
"The store is fine," Michelle answered, sighing. I could just see her, sitting on the edge of her bed. Actually, I realized I had never been to Michelle's apartment, and had no idea what her bedroom looked like. The only image that would come to mind was something like Morticia Adams' boudoir, all black lace and sharp objects, and I knew that couldn't really be right. "We're hiring two new kids part time to split the extra shift, we moved some of the furniture around on the second floor again, and we both know that this isn't really why you're calling at two in the morning. It's nice to hear from you and all, since it's been like five days, but what's wrong? Did you and Justin have a fight?"
"No," I answered, leaning back on the lounge, stretching out. "We didn't have a fight. We haven't had time to have a fight. That's kind of why I haven't called. There hasn't really been time to do anything, because it's like one thing after another ever since the plane landed. I feel like I don't even get time to breathe around here, like Justin and I just skate from one thing right to the next and there's never any downtime in between."
"Well, you knew he'd be busy," Michelle said, and I heard tinkling noises and cabinets closing.
"What are you doing?" I asked, curious.
"Making coffee," she said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Oh, wait, for Michelle, it was. If you were awake, there had to be coffee around. "So, as I was saying, you knew he'd be busy with the interviews and the appearances and stuff. Are you not getting to be with him enough?"
"No, that's not the problem at all," I said, sighing. "He takes me everywhere he can. Today, or, you know, I guess it's yesterday now, I was at this interview photo shoot thing with him all day, and the other guys, and for the most part it was really nice. We get to share a room, and he takes me out to eat, and you should see this watch he bought me. It's huge, Michelle, and he surprised me with it. We're staying together, and it's, well, that's not really the problem. I just, I'm not sure if Justin and I should be together."
We were both quiet for a second, letting that sink in. In the background on Michelle's side, I could hear her moving around her kitchen, opening and closing the refrigerator, taking out a cup, grabbing a spoon. On my end, the only sound in the backyard was the soft ripple of the pool, which made a shifting liquid noise even when no one was in it. Joey was far enough from any main streets that you never heard a horn beeping, or a car driving by, or any of the other noises that I was so accustomed to. Joey's house and yard complex was sprawling, luxurious, and almost completely silent.
"I thought you guys already had this discussion," Michelle said finally. I could hear the tapping of one fingernail on the counter, and smiled. "And you decided that you should be together because you cared about him, and he needed you. Did something change? He doesn't need you?"
"No, that's not it," I said, shaking my head. "He does. He's almost dependent on me. He needs a friend down here, and someone to take care of him, and everything else. He really does need me. You wouldn't believe what the people around him are like. When I said it's one thing after another, I mean with all these guys. I swear to God, it's like fucking 'Dynasty' around here all the fucking time."
"What?" Michelle asked, giggling. "They all seem so, you know, kind of normal on TV."
"Normal? Ha!" I said, laughing. "I'm telling you, all we need around here is a backup band and some of those tight facial close ups where we make really urgent faces and purse our lips."
"It can't be that bad," Michelle said. I heard the clinking of her spoon in her coffeecup.
"You have no idea!" I giggled, rolling my eyes. "The minute the plane landed Chris drove us out to his house, and they were like all waiting in this ambush for a big group meeting. There was yelling and crying and name calling, and that was just the warmup. There was a scene with mom like the next day, and don't even get me started on her."
"Total bitch?" Michelle guessed.
"On wheels," I added.
"Well, she did make him cry with that phone call," Michelle said. "I take it she's not happy with you guys?"
"That doesn't even begin to cover it," I said, standing. I began to pace round the pool, although that would take several minutes. Joey's pool was the size of a small lake. "Have you seen anyone hanging around the store? Anybody weird?"
"Chris, have you seen our clientele?" she asked. "Never mind that, have you seen our staff?"
"These people make us look normal," I said, watching the grass. Kelly told me that occasionally alligators would get trapped in people's pools. I was pretty sure none could get through the fence, but, honestly, it never hurt to be careful. "I was asking because Lynn, Justin's living mother, paid to have me investigated. She hired a private investigator to look into my background, and Chris helped her! They had pictures of the store, and copies of newspaper articles, and stuff you wouldn't believe. I'm not even sure some of it's legal."
"I knew I should have smacked Chris when I had the chance," Michelle grumbled.
"Don't worry," I said, giggling. "I kicked him in the balls."
"What? You what?" she blurted. I'd never heard Michelle sound like this, and wondered if she had just spit coffee across the room. "You kicked Chris Kirkpatrick in the balls? And I missed it?"
"I don't think they'll be carrying the footage on Entertainment Tonight," I said dryly. At least one good thing had come out of it. "But yeah, I did, and I think telling you broke like fifty pages of the confidentiality agreement thing I had to sign to hang around with Justin. I'm not allowed to go certain places with him if I haven't."
"They made you sign one of those?" Michelle asked, suspicious and incredulous at the same time.
"They make everyone sign one," I clarified. I didn't want her thinking I was being singled out. "Kelly, Joey's girlfriend, had to sign one, too."
"You've been introduced to their girlfriends?" Michelle asked, and I could hear her sipping. "That sounds kind of serious."
"We're staying with Joey and his girlfriend," I explained. "Did you know Joey has a kid? She's a sweetheart, and Kelly has just been spectacular. Having her around, and having her actually like me, is like having, I don't know, a guide or something. She's been through all this already, and she knows what's going to bother me or what's going to happen."
"So they're not all bad," Michelle pointed out.
"No, they're not," I had to admit. "Joey and Kelly have been really nice. Joey's actually a good guy, a really good friend. I mean, I think he'd rather that Justin and JC were both happy, but he's willing to give me a chance. Lance isn't really bad, either. He's not big on the whole gay thing, for the usual, you know, religious reasons, and he was a real jackass at first, but he's warming up."
"Didn't have to kick him in the nuts?" Michelle asked.
"No, no I didn't," I answered, grinning. I sat on the edge of the pool, and stuck my feet in the water, swinging them back and forth. It was warm, and I contemplated just jumping in when I got off the phone.
"So how, exactly, did that happen?" Michelle asked. "If you're going to wake me up, you could at least give me a story."
"It's not really that exciting," I said, shrugging. "We were at this interview thing. I was supposed to be watching Bri, but Lance was helping her go to the bathroom because I'm not really good with stuff like that, and Chris came and threw me against a wall and yelled at me. I let it sit for a minute, and then I went out to his car, let him know that I would no longer be accepting such treatment, and punctuated it with my knee. I know that violence isn't the answer, and all that stuff, but it was great."
"They didn't do anything to stop you?" Michelle asked, giggling. "Doesn't he have bodyguards or something?"
"Yeah, Johnny told them to leave me alone," I answered, swinging my legs back and forth in the water. "I told you, they're not all bad."
"So what did he start with you for?" she asked. "More shit about you dating Justin?"
"No, it was, um," I stumbled, not sure how to phrase this. "He yelled at me for talking to JC about Justin."
"JC?" Michelle asked quickly, perking right up. "You talked to the ex? What's he like? Is he a dick? I bet he is. Justin made him sound kind of like a dick, and he did cheat on him and all, so there must be something wrong with him."
"That's the problem!" I said, standing. I almost fell in the pool, but I needed to pace again. "There's nothing wrong with him! He's polite and soft spoken and in person he's actually cuter than he looks on TV. He sings good and he looks good in everything, even the worst clothes, and he's even nice to me. I mean, other than cheating on Justin and breaking his heart, he's like perfect. And it's driving me nuts!"
"Why?" Michelle asked. "He's the ex. He's supposed to drive you nuts."
"But I feel like I don't even compare to him," I said, gesturing unconsciously with one of my hands. "I mean, yeah, I'm cute and I have decent abs and I'm reasonably intelligent and I'm a grownup and own my own business and all the other good things you guys are always telling me when you want me to start dating again or stop being so fucking depressed all the time, but he's just, he's perfect. And when you stand me next to him, I'm not."
Michelle's laughter startled me, and I almost dropped the phone.
"What is this?" she asked, snickering. "Low self esteem hour?"
"Thanks for the moral support," I said, looking for something to kick. Oh, yeah, I was barefoot, and would probably break a toe. "Bitch."
"Cunt," she answered absently. "Seriously, though, what is wrong with you? You just listed all the reasons why I would be all over you if you were into box. You're a great guy."
"But not compared to him!" I said. "He has all this history, and the music, and everything else. He connects with Justin on all these levels that I don't, and that's, I don't stack up to that."
"Why do you have to?" Michelle asked. "Is Justin comparing you? Did he say something?"
"No," I answered, shaking my head. I sat back down and stuck my legs in the pool again. "All Justin has to say about JC is that he misses being his friend."
"Are you ok with that?" Michelle asked, still trying to cut through to the heart of the matter.
"Actually, I am," I answered, sighing. "I mean, when they're together, Justin's so relaxed, and JC is, too. That's actually what I was talking to JC about, why Chris yelled at me. Justin misses JC, and JC only wants to see him if I'm not around, too. I asked JC if maybe he could think about, you know, trying to reach out to Justin a little more."
"You want Justin and JC to spend more time together?" Michelle asked, surprised. "Are you insane? If you think this guy's perfect, why are you pushing Justin to spend time with him?"
"I want him to be happy," I answered. "If Justin wants to hang out with JC, then I want Justin to hang out with JC. I'm sure Justin's not going to do anything with him."
"Why?" Michelle asked. "Not to cast doubt on your relationship or anything, but, you know, they've only been broken up for a couple of weeks."
"I know because Justin already shot him down," I answered smugly. "Justin needed to go over to their house, and JC told him he wouldn't be at home unless Justin came without me, so Justin told him no."
"Wow, he does love you," Michelle said appreciatively. "So what's the problem?"
"I just, I don't know," I sighed, looking at my legs, the image distorted and rippling in the water. It was a lie. I knew exactly what the problem was, but didn't want to say it.
"Yeah you do," Michelle argued. Her voice was quiet, soft, not pushy. "Chris, I'm your friend, and I love you. I don't love getting phone calls from you at two in the morning, though, so let's figure this out so I can get a couple more hours of sleep before I have to get up at the crack of dawn to go open your store, and sell books for you, to fatten your bank account, because it's always all about you, Chris Vanderhall."
"Hey!" I said defensively, giggling.
"Just spit it out," Michelle said. "You decided to be with Justin because you cared about him, he cares about you, and he needs you. He still cares about you, and he still needs you to help him be his own person, especially if it really is the way you said. So what's changed?"
"Michelle," I began, shaking my head.
"Do you still care about him?" she asked.
"Yeah, I do," I answered. "I care about him a lot."
"Do you love him?" Michelle asked bluntly, and I was quiet. "Chris, do you love Justin?"
I swallowed thickly, a huge ball of something lodging itself in my throat and refusing to choke down.
"Chris?"
"Yeah," I answered, blinking. "Yeah, I love him. I do."
Michelle made a quiet noise that I couldn't quite identify, but it didn't sound negative.
"So what's the problem?" she asked.
"I can't tell him," I answered. "I can't, when I look at Justin, and I try to say it, the words, it's like my throat locks up. It's either not the right time, like I don't want to tell him after sex and have him think I only said it because I just got off, but the other times, I look at him, and I just can't."
"Is it Matt?" Michelle asked, her tone neutral but still somehow caring.
"Yeah," I said, nodding. My chest hurt, suddenly, but I still needed to let this out. "When I try to tell Justin that I love him, I think about Matt. It's not what you think, though. It's not that I still can't get over Matt, because I understand that I don't have to. I can love both of them, and I do. That's not the problem at all."
"Me asking you to tell me the problem is getting a little redundant," Michelle sighed. "Never mind, I'm being a bitch. Just tell me, please? You love Matt, and you love Justin, so why can't you tell Justin that you love him? Why can't you tell him that you love them both, and that it's ok?"
"Because it's not," I answered.
"It is," Michelle argued. "Chris, I know Justin. I mean, not as well as you, but I talked to him, and I know what he's like. He'll be ok with it. He already is. He already pursued you knowing that you still love Matt and that you always will. It'll be ok."
"No," I said again, sharply. "I, the way I love Justin, it's not the same as the way I love Matt. That's the problem. That's why I can't say it. I love Justin, but I don't think I love him enough."
"Justin thinks you do," she argued sharply, not quite shrill. "Justin thinks the way you love him is perfect."
"Maybe he doesn't know any better," I said, kicking my feet. "Who says he knows what's best for him? How does he know that he's better off with me and not with his best friend? How does he know it's better dating someone who has to hide, who can't stand by his side everywhere he goes, when he could be with someone who can?"
"What, you don't trust him?" she asked.
"I do," I answered. "I trust Justin completely, regardless of all that bullshit Chris tried to pull on us. It's me that I don't trust. I want to be here for him, and I want to help him, but I don't know if this is. I don't know if fucking him is the same as loving him, and I don't know if that's why I can't say it, and why I feel like I don't love him enough."
"Chris, you know I don't ask about your sex life, especially not now that you actually have one," she said dryly. "But sex is part of love."
"I'm not twelve, Michelle," I said, shaking my head. "I know all about sex and love. I just, I don't know if sex is the best way to comfort him. I don't know if what I'm doing, letting him fall in love with me more and more, is really the best thing for him. I'm scared that in the end I'm going to hurt him, and that even if I don't he's going to miss out on something better because he was hung up on me."
"How do you know that?" Michelle asked. "How do you know you're not going to love him the same way you love Matt? How do you know it isn't going to happen?"
"Because I can imagine life without him," I said finally. Michelle fell silent. "When I was with Matt, I never imagined that I would lose him. I couldn't. When I closed my eyes, I never saw a future where he wasn't with me, and when he died I didn't know how I'd keep going, and it's not like that with Justin. If Justin left me tomorrow, I'd keep going. It wouldn't be the end of the world, and it wouldn't be the end of my life."
"Oh," was all she could say as we both thought about what I'd just said.
I didn't know what else to say. That was the truth, plain, simple, and ugly. I didn't love Justin as much as I loved Matt, and I was scared that I was keeping him from something better, and that he was throwing his life away on me. That wasn't the reason why I wanted Justin and JC to hang out, though. I wasn't trying to push them back together, or to sabotage my own relationship. I really did just want Justin to be happy, and to be friends with all of his friends again. I really just wanted him to be happy, even if I couldn't believe that he would ever be happy with me.
"Chris?" Michelle asked finally.
"Yeah?" I answered. I felt like I should cry, but wasn't sure why. I knew that I should feel bad, but, like I said, it was the truth.
"Maybe someday you will?" she suggested. I started to say something and she cut me off. "No, don't say anything. I just wanted to point out that you didn't always feel that way about Matt. You didn't always love him with all your heart and soul from the first minute you laid eyes on him. It took a little time, and it might take some time with Justin, too."
"What about him?" I asked, knowing she was right. "What if he invests all this time and energy and feeling in me, and it never happens?"
"That's a risk he's willing to take," she answered. "Otherwise he wouldn't be going out with you."
We talked for a couple more minutes after that about nothing in particular, just stuff about Pete, Meg, Julie, and the regulars, and finally I let her go, knowing that she needed to get back in bed, what with having a moody, demanding boss and all.
"Michelle? Thank you," I said. "You know, for being my friend and all."
"It's nothing," she said. "You'd do the same for me if I were dating a pop star and living in a nuthouse and trying to compete with an exboyfriend who's physically perfect and flawless. Call again soon, ok?"
"Yeah, ok," I said. "Bitch."
"Love you, too," she laughed. "Bye."
"Bye."
After I hung up I stared into the pool some more, watching my feet swing back and forth. I heard the patio door open, but didn't turn around, figuring it was probably security doing rounds or Joey needing air or something. If I stayed over here, quiet and off to the side, maybe they wouldn't see me. I knew I was wrong when I felt hands on my shoulders, and Justin's legs slid out on either side of mine, his feet sliding into the pool as he leaned against my back. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and his arms held me tightly as he kissed the back of my neck.
"You ok?" he asked, whispering.
"Yeah, you?" I answered.
"I woke up, and you weren't there," he whispered. "I checked the whole house for you."
"Justin, am I hurting you?" I asked suddenly, wanting an honest answer. He started to inhale, and I cut him off. "No, stop and think about it. Really, I mean it. Is what we're doing the best thing for you? Is it what you really need, instead of what you want?"
"I don't need to think about it," he whispered, his arms holding my body tightly against him. "I know you'd never hurt me. Now come back to bed, please?"
"OK," I whispered, letting him lead me away from the pool.
To be continued.