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.
Justin seemed almost embarrassed when we walked out of the restaurant, as if he couldn't believe he had shared so much after all. He squinted in the sunshine, and clapped his sunglasses on again. Standing next to him, I didn't really know what kind of reaction he was hoping for, or what kind he was afraid of, so I decided to just take it slow. If he felt anything like I had last night, he was feeling a little raw and exposed, and I wanted to give him time to collect himself, to heal himself back up in whatever way he did that. I decided to just take it slow, and let him set the pace. Maybe he'd still want to talk to me, or maybe, embarrassed, he'd push me away.
"What do you want to do now?" I asked quietly, looking up and down the street. We'd been in the restaurant longer than I thought, a good chunk into the afternoon, and I needed to get back to the store at some point today. On the other hand, I couldn't leave Justin the way he was.
"Like I said, I want to clear my head for a while," Justin answered, shrugging. "I thought I'd stay here for a little bit, hang out, do nothing. We have some interviews coming up, but I have a couple of weeks. Until then, I just want to be myself, you know? I never get to do that, and I'm getting kind of tired of being one fifth."
"I guess I can understand that," I said, nodding. "If you've been doing this every day for six years or so, however long you said it was, I guess I can see how you'd be feeling a little boxed in."
Justin nodded, looking sad again, and we started walking in the direction of the market again. I didn't know for sure if he still wanted to, but if he didn't we could pick up the T again near there, and I could drop him at his hotel and head back to the store. He smiled at me.
"You're a good guy, Chris," he said suddenly, smiling a wide, but toothless, smile. "You're really understanding, and you're a good listener. I need more friends like you."
"Thanks, Justin," I said, smiling back. I wasn't sure why, but his compliment left me feeling a little warm, a little flushed under his approval. "I wasn't really asking what you wanted to do with your life, though. I meant more of what you wanted to do with the rest of the afternoon."
"Oh," he said, grinning wider, more sheepishly. "Duh. I thought maybe we might go check out a couple of those stores you mentioned, if, you know, you're still up for that."
"Sure," I said, spreading my hands expansively. "Like I said, Justin, I'm your tour guide. I want to do whatever you feel like doing."
"You don't have to," he said seriously. "I know you promised April and all, but you don't have to keep me entertained if you don't want to."
"You're missing the point, Justin," I said, shaking my head. "I do want to. Now, here's the market. If you see anywhere you want to go into, just let me know, and we'll go in, ok?"
"Sure," Justin answered, looking around. Quincy Market is an area more than it is a mall. There are a few buildings, some of which, like a mall, you walk through, and others that just hold a bunch of separate stores. It's a nice area, a little touristy, and things are a little pricey, but it's also diverting, and that was kind of what Justin needed. "What about you? Are there any stores you want to go in?"
"Justin, I come here all the time," I said. "I can shop here whenever I want to. I told you, this is about you feeling better, and you being entertained. Today, this afternoon, we'll go where you want to."
"Cool," Justin said, grinning. "Let's go shopping."
Justin failed to mention that his idea of shopping and my idea of it were too wildly different concepts. Mine included things like looking at price tags. I wasn't really a penny pincher, and was more than willing to buy myself nice stuff, but I still looked at the tag to see how much something was, no matter how badly I wanted it. My idea of shopping also included significantly less binging, which was the only word I could think of for what he was doing. If I wanted a shirt, I went out to get one. I might come back with two or three, but I stayed reasonably close to my original plan. Justin, on the other hand, looked at a shirt, tried it on, and if he liked it bought one in every color. My head was spinning, and when he finally announced that he was getting tired of shopping he had so many bags that I had to carry some of them for him. I saw him back to his hotel, and handed him his bags in the lobby.
"I had a really good time today," he said, smiling. "Thanks for, well, for everything."
"You're welcome," I said, smiling back. "I had a good time today, too, Justin."
"Cool," he said absently, shifting from foot to foot. We'd been getting along so well, but suddenly things felt a little awkward between us, and I decided to make my exit, glancing at the big clock on the wall. One of the bellboys kept glancing at us, but I didn't really give it a second thought.
"Well, I gotta get back to the store," I said quickly, stepping back. "And you have all these bags to unpack. If you, um, you want to hang out, or something, you know where to reach me, ok?"
"I'd like that," he said, nodding. "Maybe we could do that, um, that history tour thing you talked about, or something."
"Maybe we could," I said, shrugging. "I'll talk to you later."
"Bye," he said, sounding a little sad. I looked back as I walked toward the door, and saw him standing by the elevator with his head down. He looked sad, and I realized he was alone here. The only person he knew was me, and I'd just brushed him off.
"Justin?" I called.
"Yeah?" he asked, turning, his face brightening a little.
"Call me if you need me, ok?" I said. "If you just need to talk, or whatever, pick up the phone, or come by. We have a big delivery coming tonight, so Pete and I will be unpacking and doing inventory. I'll be up pretty late, ok?"
"OK," he said, smiling a little. "Thanks, Chris."
"No problem," I said, feeling a little better about leaving. I heard the elevator ding open as I walked out the front of the lobby, and figured he'd be ok.
When I got back to the store, Meg and Michelle had both gone for the day, leaving Pete and Julie there. Pete was working the register and walking the aisles, helping customers, and Julie was behind the counter, washing dishes and serving coffee for the people who wanted it. There was always a little rush in the store around five or so, as people got off work and stopped on their way home, and there would be a steady stream of people until around seven or eight, when people settled into their homes for the evening. There were a few bars around us, but most people don't stop at a bookstore on their way to a bar, either for something to read or for a cup of coffee.
"Hey Chris," Pete said, nodding to me as he rang up a pretty college aged girl. I was surprised he even noticed me at all, since he was deep in conversation with her, and I grinned. As I'd said, Pete was a nice, all American looking boy, fairly normal, and blandly attractive like an Abercrombie model. Girls were always hitting on him, and he was always happy to respond. I nodded at him, not wanting to break his flow, and walked over to the counter.
"Hey, welcome back from your big day out," Julie said, rushing over to wrap me up in a big hug. Julie greeted me with a hug every time she came to work, whether she'd just seen me the day before or not. Her hair was braided today, two thick strands hanging down from her head, and she looked very earthy in her tie dyed skirt and plain colored t- shirt, three or four hemp necklaces hanging down. She was our staff's lone vegetarian, and was forever trying to rally us to the cause of sweatshop workers or rainforest destruction.
"You say that like I never leave the store," I said, hugging her back quickly.
"You never do," she said matter of factly. "You didn't eat dinner, did you? Meg saved some of the soup from lunch. It's back here in the fridge, and it'll probably be ok if you zap it."
"I'll eat it later," I said, smiling. "But thanks. Anything for me?"
"Mail's on your desk," she said.
The store was a little full, so I knew I didn't want to stay in my office long. People might be wandering the aisles needing help. I flipped through the mail, but there wasn't really anything important. I tried to reach April again, leaving her another voicemail to please at least call me and let me know she was having a good time, and then went to work the store. I did that for a couple of hours, and was up on the second floor when Julie let me know there was a call for me.
"On my way," I said, excusing myself from the customer I was helping. Julie pointed at the phone and I pointed at the stairs, so that she could go take over where I left off, and I picked up the phone and took it off of hold. "Hi, this is Chris."
"Chris!" Justin bleated, and I froze, wondering what was wrong. "Chris, I need help! Please help me, Chris, please, I have a big, big problem."
He was babbling, his voice high and nervous, and I tried to calm him down.
"Justin, tell me what's wrong," I said, catching the way Pete's head snapped up when I said Justin's name. The kids had all been talking to each other again, I assumed. "What's the problem? Just let me know what it is, and I swear, I'll help, ok?"
"Reporters found me!" he whined, and I almost slammed the phone down. Here I was thinking he was in danger or hurt or something, and this was the problem? I knew that he was supposed to be hiding, but his reaction seemed a little extreme. "Somebody knocked on my door, and I thought it might be you, so I opened it, and this guy had a camera in my face, so I slammed it closed, but they were out there forever! I called the front desk, and they made them leave the hallway, but they're downstairs in the lobby, and they're waiting for me."
I thought about this for a second.
"Justin, they can't hold you prisoner in the hotel like that," I said, frowning. I guessed that I could see his side of it, being hounded and having a camera shoved in his face. "They can't just loiter in the lobby. Did you ask the front desk to make them leave?"
"They said they're guests," Justin said, sounding close to tears. "They must have checked in and gotten a room so that they could stake the place out. I can't go anywhere, Chris! This isn't fair! I just, all I wanted was a vacation, to get away, and now I can't even walk down the hall to the ice machine!"
"Justin, calm down, please," I said, thinking. "Listen, Justin, I promise, I'm going to help you, ok? I promise I'll get you out of the hotel. I won't leave you over there, ok?"
"Chris, I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry I keep bothering you, but I don't know anyone else, and I don't know what to do. I just, I can't think like this, and I can't even order dinner because I'm afraid the room service people won't really be them, or they'll follow them upstairs or something."
"Justin, don't apologize," I said, shaking my head. I had an idea, and it seemed like it might almost work. Julie and Pete were both standing at the register now, watching me, and I wanted to give them the finger. If only there weren't customers. "I told you to call me if you needed me, and I meant it. Now listen, I have an idea, and I think we can get you out of the hotel. I want you to pack up all your stuff, right now, and I'll be right there, ok?"
"OK," Justin said, sounding a little relieved. "OK. Thank you, Chris."
"You're welcome," I said absently, planning this in my head. "I'll be right over, ok?"
"OK," Justin answered, and gave me his suite number.
He hung up, so I did as well, and then ran upstairs to my loft to grab a hooded sweatshirt. Running back down the stairs, I crossed through the storeroom, and found Pete and Julie waiting for me. I handed the sweatshirt to Pete, who was more or less the right height for this. Pete was a little thicker than Justin, but this would work. I hoped it would, anyway.
"Do you have sunglasses?" I asked, and Pete nodded. "Put that shirt on. I need your help."
"What's going on?" Julie asked, as Pete pulled the shirt down over his chest.
"We have to smuggle Justin out of the hotel," I explained. "Some reporters found him, and they're staked out in the lobby, waiting for him to leave his room. Julie, will you be ok here by yourself for about twenty minutes?"
"Yeah, I think so," she said, looking around. The store wasn't too busy, and we were closing soon, anyway. "You taking Pete with you?"
"Yeah," I answered, turning to Pete. "I mean, if Pete's ok with helping out."
"I don't mind," he said, shrugging. "What's the sweatshirt for?"
"Disguise," I answered, smirking.
"Disguise?" Julie asked, looking at me like I was on heavy drugs.
"No way are they going to believe I'm Justin Timberlake," Pete said, holding up his hands.
"No, but if we do this right, they'll think Justin's you," I said, grabbing my car keys. "Come on, let's go."
On the way over to the hotel, I explained to Pete what I thought we should do, and he agreed that it seemed sound. I pulled around back to the lot, telling the parking attendant that we were there to pick up a friend, and he let us park. Pete pulled the hood up over his head, covering his hair, and then put on his sunglasses, despite it being past nightfall, and we got out of the car.
"I can't see a damned thing," Pete whispered, leaning toward me.
"I promise, I won't let you walk into anything," I whispered back. We walked around the side, ignoring the back entrance because we wanted to come in the front, where the reporters would be. "You ready? Let's do this."
Pete and I breezed into the lobby, chatting loudly about baseball, and Pete threw his head back in laughter, so loud that everyone glanced at us at least once. We were moving quickly toward the elevators, and I saw a group on the front couches who had to be the reporters. They eyed us speculatively, taking in the hood and the sunglasses, and started to get up, glancing at each other as if to confirm that they all had the same suspicion, and I nudged Pete in the side.
"Hood," I whispered before raising my voice to continue the fake discussion. "Could you believe that game?"
"Dude, that was awesome!" Pete bellowed as I hit the elevator button. The reporters were starting to stand, and then Pete reached up and pulled his hood back, revealing his straight blond hair, parted on the side. He was very obviously not Justin, and the two of us slid into the elevator without anyone saying a word. Pete grinned at me, pulling off his sunglasses. "I think it worked."
"I think it did," I said, nodding. I hit a couple of floors, so that they wouldn't see us go straight to Justin's if they were watching the number display in the lobby, although that was probably overkill. "At least the first part, anyway. Come on, let's go get Justin."
We knocked on Justin's suite door, and I told him it was me. He pulled it open, and Pete and I slid inside, checking behind us to make sure no one was in the hall. As soon as he saw me Justin's eyes lit up, and he hugged me quickly, his strong arms crushing me against his chest. I saw two suitcases and a bag neatly stacked next to the couch, waiting.
"Thanks you!" he said, letting me go. "Thank you so much for coming!"
"Justin, this is Pete," I said, waving toward him. Justin took Pete's hand, shaking it, and grinned at him. It was a little reserved, but Justin was so relieved to see me that he didn't really say anything. "Pete works with me, and he's going to help get you out of here. Pete, give Justin the hoodie and your sunglasses, and Justin, put them on."
"What are we gonna do?" Justin asked. I noticed that Justin was wearing jeans, just like Pete. I wouldn't have to make him go unpack something and change. "They'll see through this. They're looking for me."
"Yeah, but they're not looking for Pete," I answered, convinced that this would work. Pete grinned at my quick thinking as Justin pulled on the sweatshirt. "They all just watched he and I walk in together. I bet if they see us walking out, they won't even give you a second glance. Pete's going to wait until you and I are in the elevator, and then he's going to come down with the bags and go out the back door, straight into the parking lot."
"Should we take one or two of the bags?" Justin asked, looking at his luggage pile. "They're kind of heavy."
"I can get them," Pete said, shaking his head. "Besides, we didn't come in with any, so you probably shouldn't go out with any. You guys ready?"
"Yeah," I answered, looking at Justin. He nodded, pulling the hood up over his hair and sliding Pete's sunglasses on.
"OK," Pete said, slapping us both on the shoulders. "See you guys in the parking lot!"
Against all possible odds, my hastily cobbled plan actually worked. Justin was a little nervous, and almost froze in panic when the elevator doors opened, but I whispered to him that everything would be fine, and we breezed through the lobby without the reporters even giving us a second glance. We walked casually back around the side, and climbed into my car. Justin pulled off his sunglasses, grinning, and crushed me against him again in an awkward hug over the gearshift as he breathed thanks against my neck. He smelled good, like shampoo and aftershave, and something clean and fresh underneath. I pulled away quickly, not wanting to notice that.
"There's Pete," I said quickly, pointing. I popped the trunk and hopped out of the car, helping Pete throw the bags in the back. He and I slammed the lid and climbed into the car.
"We did it!" Pete said, grinning and slapping Justin a high five from his spot in the back seat.
"Thank you so much," Justin said, grinning at him. "Thank you both."
"Let's go back to the store," I said, pulling out of the parking lot before our luck could run out.
Justin and Pete talked quietly all the way back, Justin asking Pete a lot of questions about where he was from and what he was doing in college and stuff like that, and Pete asking Justin about awards shows and people he knew and whether or not Britney Spears was as hot in person as she looked on television. When we got to the store, pulling around the back to park the car, we discovered that the delivery truck had come early, and was pulled in at the loading dock already. I knew Julie wouldn't abandon the register to come unlock the back, especially not when she was starting to work on closing stuff, so I figured I'd better run over to the guy to smooth things over.
"Pete, why don't you take Justin inside to wait for me, and I'll take care of getting this stuff brought in and signed for," I suggested, hopping out of the car. "Help Julie close up, and Justin, I swear I'll be in soon. Let me just take care of this, ok?"
"Sure," Justin said, nodding.
He got his bags out of the trunk and followed Pete through the back door as I got the loading dock unlocked and showed the two guys with the truck where to put the boxes down. Justin looked a little unsettled, but I figured he'd be in good hands with Pete, and I stayed out back until the truck was unloaded, taking inventory and then signing for the delivery. Out front I could hear the three of them talking, although I wasn't sharp enough to pick out the words, but I didn't hear any raised voices or fighting, so I figured Justin was getting along fine with the two of them, and wasn't in their way. I knew that Julie, with her save the world, excessively nurturing personality, would have him taken care of, probably sitting him down in one of the armchairs with a cup of coffee, if he drank that, and a cookie or something from the bakery case. I locked up the dock, tipping the delivery guys, and walked through the storeroom and into the front, completely surprised to find Justin stacking the chairs in the cafe area on the tabletops.
"Justin, what are you doing?" I asked, looking around. Julie was drying dishes behind the counter, and Pete was on the second level running the vacuum over the carpet.
"I was kind of bored, and I felt kind of useless," Justin answered, without pausing. "I asked what I could do to help out, so Julie said I could wipe down the tables and then put the chairs up."
"Julie said you could, did she?" I asked, smirking at her.
"He wanted to work, I gave him some work," Julie said, waving a dishtowel at me. "Look, everything's basically done. I'll drop the trash in the dumpster on my way out, and I ordered a pizza for you and Pete to eat while you do the stock tonight. Have a good night, ok? And Justin, it was nice meeting you. I hope we see you around some more."
"Thanks," he said, shaking her hand. "It was nice meeting you, too."
Julie picked up her bag and the trashbags, yelled a goodnight up to Pete, and then left out the backdoor. Pete kept vacuuming upstairs, straightening the shelves as he went, and Justin watched as I began to empty off one of the front display tables, stacking the books carefully next to it. Justin, sweeping the cafe floor, watched me curiously.
"What are you doing?" he asked. I was tempted to ask him the same question, as the sight of him pushing a broom and looking around for the dustpan seemed completely incongruous with who he was.
"Some of the books that came in are new released, so I'm clearing off this table for them," I answered, checking the clock. The pizza would be here in another ten minutes. "Pete! Dinner in ten!"
"I'll be down by then," Pete said, winding up the vacuum cord. "You want money?"
"Pizza's on me," I answered, still stacking. "You know, for helping out tonight. Finish up that stuff, we'll eat, and then we'll get the stocking knocked out."
"Sure, boss," Pete said, leaning over the balcony to smirk at me. "Thanks for dinner."
"What should I do?" Justin asked, looking around. His bags were still sitting by the counter, and I realized that I'd kind of forgotten him. I walked over and handed him a wad of money from my wallet.
"The pizza guy is going to come to the front door," I said, pointing. "When he does, pay him, and grab some plates and napkins from the counter there. I have to move my car from out back to the garage across the street, but I'll be right back."
"What about after dinner?" Justin asked. Now that he'd run out of things to do to distract him, he looked a little disheartened again. "I mean, they're probably looking at the other hotels, too. Where am I going to go?"
I thought about it for a second.
"Well, the couch in my loft folds out," I said. "If you don't mind hanging out with me, you can stay upstairs."
"No, Chris, I can't do that," Justin said quickly, holding up his hands. "I mean, it's one thing for you to hang out with me and take me around the city, but I can't stay in your apartment. It isn't fair to you. I don't want to impose on you."
"Justin, you're not imposing," I said. "You need somewhere to stay, it's late, and I have a couch. You can stay with me, and I don't mind."
"Are you sure?" he asked again, his lips pursed together in a tentative slash across his face. "You're sure you don't mind?"
"Justin, I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," I answered, rolling my eyes. I wasn't offering him one of my damn kidneys, for God's sake. "Now get the pizza, and I'll go move my car, ok?"
"Thanks, Chris," Justin said.
Up above, I caught Pete looking down at us speculatively, one eyebrow raised, but he leaned back in when he saw me, not saying anything. As I'd thought before, the staff was getting a lot of mileage out of this new friendship thing, and I could only imagine what they were saying all day when I hadn't been in the store. It was hard to fault them for it, because when you're a family in all the good ways, you are in all the bad ways, too. We criticized each other, talked about each other's boyfriends or girlfriends, gossiped among the rest of us about what we thought was going on in each other's lives. We never hurt each other, but sometimes our tongues had a way of getting away from us, and I was guessing that the four of them were building up a lot out of nothing. Honestly, I was taking a friend around the city, and now I was letting him sleep on my couch. Why was everyone giving me these weird looks and making such a big deal out of it? There wasn't even anything there to make a big deal out of, for God's sake. Why did they think there was?
And why did I feel like there was?
And where the hell had that thought just come from?
I pulled out my phone as I stood out in front of the garage, calling April again.
"Hey, April, it's Chris again. I don't know what's going on down there that you can't at least return a phone call, but I hope everything is ok. Justin had a little trouble with reporters finding his hotel, which I didn't think was really that big a deal, but apparently he's in hiding or something, so I told him he could stay over here. Both of us are eagerly waiting to hear from you, and I also feel like saying that I don't think you're being a very good friend to him right now, and I'm a little disappointed in you. Call me soon, ok?"
I didn't know when or if she was planning to call back, but I was really starting to get irritated with her. Matthew would never have been so inconsiderate, but I guess that just went to show that you couldn't always judge a person based on their siblings. As I walked back across the street, I saw Pete and Justin taking a couple of chairs down so that we could sit, the pizza box between them on the table. The two of them were talking and smiling, and they both looked up when I opened the door.
"There he is now," Pete said, pushing out a chair for me.
"What?" I asked, locking up the front door behind me. "Were you guys talking about me?"
"Not really," Justin answered. Not really? What kind of an answer was that, especially to a yes or no question? "Look, the pizza's here."
"So it is," I said carefully, looking back and forth between the two of them as I sat down. They both looked a little amused, but neither of them said anything else. Justin had been here for twenty minutes, and he and Pete were already sharing secrets? Damn him and his charm.
"So what are we doing now?" Justin asked, waiting until Pete and I had a slice on our plates before taking one of his own.
"Pete and I are going to unpack the new inventory," I answered.
"Can I help?" Justin asked. I waited for Pete to tell him no. After all, the stockroom was Pete's domain, and the rest of us were only grudgingly admitted because we happened to work here. He wouldn't let some stranger just wander in and start touching things.
"Sure," Pete answered. "I'll show you what to do."
The two of them smiled at each other, and I felt that irritation scratching at me again. What had the two of them been talking about while I was parking the car? And why did I suddenly feel jealous at not being included?
To be continued.