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.
The last thing Chris ever wanted to see when he woke up was Wade and Justin standing over his bed, holding hands, while Wade nuzzled at Justin's neck. Justin was looking down at Chris, trying not to pay attention to Wade, although it was always hard for him to concentrate, to think about anything, when Wade touched him. He'd only had one boyfriend before Wade, only one partner, and really the two of them hadn't done much more than fool around a little, jerking each other off, and trying a few blowjobs. They hadn't ever done anything like the things Wade did for him, the ways that Wade made him feel. Wade was so experienced, and so gentle, and his big, strong hands just seemed to set Justin on fire.
Chris's eyes slid open, squinting against the daylight and the lamp that Justin had switched on by the bed. He caught a glimpse of the two of them, and then squeezed his eyes closed again as the bed seemed to take a fast spin. Justin put a hand against Wade's chest, nudging him away a little, pushing him off of his ear with a soft, wet sound. He dropped down next to the bed.
"Chris?" Justin asked, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder with one long finger. "Chris, are you awake?"
Chris groaned, wanting to roll away, but also not wanting to move.
"JC and Joey told us to check on you," Justin began, chirping away. Chris wanted to reach up and smother him. "They went to go check on Lance, but I promised that we would come look in on you and see if you needed anything. Do you need anything? Are you ok? Do you want something to drink?"
"Justin," Wade began, lightly stroking the bare top of Justin's arm with his fingertips as he dropped down beside him, squatting next to him and staring at Chris's face, checking his color and watching him squint. "Maybe we should let him sleep a little longer."
"But he's awake!" Justin protested, not wanting JC and Joey to think he hadn't done his job. They told him to take care of Chris, and he was going to take care of him, take really good care. He'd sit by him, and hold his hand, and bring him anything he needed until he was all better. He leaned down, close to Chris's face. "Chris, I saw your eyes open. Are you sick? Are you hung over? I brought you some juice. It'll make you feel better. Joey says that if you're hung over you should have something to drink because you're all dehydrated and stuff. Are you dehydrated, Chris? Do you want some juice? It's orange."
"Justin," Chris groaned finally, knowing that Justin would keep chattering unless he spoke to him. "Please, Justin, please quiet down, just for a second."
Just talking seemed a huge effort to Chris. His mouth was dry, sticky, cottony, like he'd been sucking on paper all night or something. His stomach felt knotted and crampy, all twisted up, and while he wanted some of Justin's juice for his throat, which felt like he'd been swallowing tacks, he was also afraid to put anything in his mouth, because he didn't feel like he could keep anything down. The bed, and the whole room, felt a little unstable, a little off-puttingly flexible, like everything around him might turn fluid at any second. He'd never had a hangover this bad in his entire life, had never felt this wrecked, and he wondered if he might be getting old. By his own recollection, he hadn't had more than five drinks, over about three hours. There was no reason why he should feel this bad.
Unfortunately for Chris, Justin reached the end of his quiet time limit in about thirty seconds. He sat down on the bed, bouncing a little, and Chris groaned as Justin rocked back and forth.
"Do you want some breakfast?" Justin asked. "We have breakfast across the hall. There's fruit, and waffles, and donuts, and pancakes, and fruit, and juice, and cereal, and bagels, and muffins. The corn muffins are really good, but I think Joey ate them all, so you can't have one of those, unless there's one left, but I can't remember if there is or not. There's chocolate chip, though, and blueberry ones with sugar on top of them, oh! I forgot! There are eggs, too, scrambled eggs! Do you want some eggs?"
"Justin," Chris moaned, holding his mouth with one hand and his stomach with the other. Not only did the thought of food make him want to vomit everywhere, especially on Justin, but the bed kept rocking as Justin swung his feet back and forth. Wade caught the look on Chris's face and realized what was wrong, pulling Justin to his feet and pressing a finger to Justin's lips. "Thanks."
"No problem," Wade said, smiling. He kissed Justin on the forehead. "Quiet time, baby, ok? Chris's head hurts, and I think you're making it worse."
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Justin gushed, dropping to his knees. "I didn't mean to bother you, Chris. I just wanted to see if you were ok, because JC and Joey said to check on you, and I didn't want them to think I didn't. Then I thought maybe you might be hungry, since it's the morning, and we have all that breakfast. I didn't mean to bother you. Do you want some aspirin? Joey said not to give you Tylenol because it mixes with the alcohol and attacks your liver, but we have some aspirin in our room, because Wade gets these terrible headaches sometimes."
"Can't imagine why," Chris muttered, shaking his head. Whether he wanted to be up or not, it appeared that he wasn't getting a choice. He squinted at them. "The last thing I remember is being at the bar, and then feeling a little dizzy. Fill in the blanks, please, but low voices."
"Sure," Wade said, sitting down on the chair by the bed and pulling Justin onto his lap. It was the only way to keep Justin from sitting on the bed again. "You had a lot of drinks, and you got a little sick, so we took you into the bathroom, and you threw up a couple times. Then we brought you home, and Justin and I took off your shoes and put you in bed."
"And Lance ran this guy over," Justin added, nodding.
"OK," Chris muttered, holding his hands over his eyes. He blinked, pulling his hands away, wondering if he had just misheard Justin. "Wait, what?"
"Lance ran someone over," Justin said, smiling. Now that everyone seemed to be ok, for him it was just a really exciting story. Nothing ever bothered Justin for very long, especially not as long as he had Wade. "He didn't really run him over. He just tapped him with the bumper, kind of, and then we drove him to the hospital, and Lance stayed with him. We brought you home, and put you to bed, and then Wade and I went to our room, and then Wade took my."
"OK, that's fine," Chris said sharply, cutting Justin off. He ran the whole thing through his head, trying to figure out if he remembered any of it.
"Baby, Chris doesn't want to hear that part of the story, ok?" Wade said, hugging him with an arm around one shoulder. "Why don't you go to our suite and get Chris some aspirin, and maybe go to the machine down the hall and get him a bottled water to take it with?"
"OK," Justin said, standing. Wade stood, too, and leaned down to kiss Justin. He meant for it to be just a peck, but then he held it for a second, and Justin did as well. Wade felt Justin's lips pressing to his, and then Justin's tongue pushing forward a little, tentative, and he slid his own tongue forward to meet it. The two of them had their eyes closed, their tongues dueling and crawling over each other in the closed cave of their mouths, hands on each other's shoulders, when suddenly Chris's voice broke them out of their kissing.
"For the love of God could you two please make out in the other room?" he groaned.
"Sorry," they both said, Justin blushing a little as they pulled apart. Wade smiled at him and kissed him quickly on the nose. "Go get that aspirin now, ok, babe?"
"Yeah," Justin said, nodding. "I love you."
"I love you more," Wade answered, blowing him a kiss as he practically skipped out the door.
"Can I have a bucket to vomit in?" Chris groaned. Wade chuckled softly and sat back down in the chair. Chris rolled over onto his back, breathing deeply as he waited for the bed to slow down a little. "OK, Wade, before Justin comes back, give me the quick version."
"OK, well, after you got sick, Keith was in the van helping you, and Lance ended up driving," Wade began, glancing back and forth between Chris and the door. Chris was starting to feel a little better now that he'd been awake for a bit, and he reached for the orange juice Justin had left by the bed, swallowing slowly as Wade continued. "You passed out, and then while we were driving back here this guy just, like, darted out of an alley, and Lance slammed on the breaks, but still hit him. He didn't actually run him over, but he hurt his leg. I didn't think we should call an ambulance, because he wasn't badly hurt, and it would look really bad for you guys if the cops came with them, so we drove the guy to the hospital. Then Lance wanted to stay with him, so Keith drove the three of us back here, and Justin and I put you to bed and Keith went back to the hospital."
"Thanks," Chris said, swallowing more of the juice. His stomach rumbled a little, but seemed basically ok, and his mouth and throat felt a lot better. "So, what happened to the guy?"
"Uh, I don't know," Wade answered, wishing Justin would hurry up.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Chris asked, wincing at his own volume. "Sorry."
"Well, we brought you back here, and then we went to bed," Wade said, shrugging. "I figured everything was ok, because Keith didn't call us, so I guess him and Lance got the guy all taken care of. Don't look at me like that, please? We already got reamed out by Joey and JC, and they went over to check on Lance."
"Sorry," Chris said, closing his eyes again. "I'm not going to yell at you. I'm sure you guys did the best you could."
"Thanks, Chris," Wade said, grinning as he heard the suite door open again. Justin bounced into the room, holding a pair of aspirin in his hand, apparently forgetting that Wade told him to get water, too. He gave them to Chris, who washed them down with the orange juice. Wade stood, kissing Justin on the cheek, wrapping his arms around Justin's waist as Justin smiled down at Chris.
"Thanks, Justin," Chris said, smiling at the two of them.
"Do you need anything else?" Justin asked. He took a deep breath, about to launch into a string of offers, but Chris cut him off.
"No, I think I'm going to go back to sleep, ok?" Chris said quickly, rolling over onto his side away from them.
"We're supposed to keep an eye on you," Wade said gravely. "To make sure you're ok."
"We don't want to get yelled at again," Justin added, pouting.
"Go watch TV in the other room, then," Chris said, debating getting out of bed so that they would leave him alone. He knew they were just watching out for him, and figured that Joey and JC must have come down on them pretty hard for them to be this determined to help him. "I'll call you if I need you."
They both shrugged and walked together into the other room, pulling the door halfway closed and sitting down on the couch. Justin grabbed the remote first, and when Wade reached for it he pulled it away, holding it behind himself. Wade grinned, reaching again, and Justin pulled it back again, sliding away from Wade on the couch. Tensing, Wade lunged forward, landing on top of Justin as they sprawled lengthwise on the couch. Justin sighed, dropping the remote, as Wade leaned down to kiss him, holding his strong body above Justin's, his arms locked and rigid. In the other room, Chris heard them scuffling, and figured that they couldn't possibly be doing what it sounded like, not with the door open and Chris in here trying to sleep. They were probably just getting comfortable.
Wade dropped his mouth down from Justin's lips to his neck, nuzzling at it as he slid a hand inside Justin's t-shirt. Justin closed his eyes, tilting his head back, as he felt Wade began to pinch the tip of his nipple, tugging at it a little, rolling it between his fingertip and thumb. Justin let out a little whimper, arching his back, as Wade continued to tweak his nipple, tugging it away from his pec as he continued to wetly attack the side of Justin's strong neck with his mouth, letting his teeth graze the skin a little. Justin whimpered again, biting his bottom lip, trying to keep quiet because he knew Chris was trying to fall asleep. Wade was determined to bring Justin right to the edge, though, and as he continued working at Justin with his hand and mouth he brought his other hand around Justin's back and slid it beneath the waist of his pants and into his briefs. As Justin squirmed beneath him, trying to keep quiet in the face of the shivers of pleasure rolling through him, he felt Wade's fingers sliding over his curved ass, and then one of them was against his hole, and Wade pushed it quickly inside, curving it to press against Justin's prostate.
Justin let out a yelping gasp as his whole body stiffened under Wade, and Wade chuckled against his neck, jabbing at Justin with his finger again, hearing Justin yelp again and try to catch his breath as Wade continued twisting Justin's nipple with his other hand. Before they could do anything else, though, they were interrupted by the sound of Chris's voice.
"That's it!" Chris called from the bedroom. "That's it! Go back to your own room, and do whatever you want to each other. I'm getting up, and getting in the shower."
"OK," Wade said, smiling as he pulled Justin up off of the couch. Justin stared at him, his mouth hanging open and his face glazed with a flushed expression of dazed lust and pleasure. "Come on, Justin. I want to do things to you."
Chris shook his head as the two of them hurried out of the suite, and then he sat up and began to walk slowly toward the bathroom. He'd take a shower, and then go check in with everyone else. It was obvious that Justin and Wade were ok, but he was worried about Lance, and wanted to check in on him, to make sure he hadn't also been reamed out by Joey and JC. Sometimes Chris wondered if the two of them were even capable of remembering what it was like to be young and do stupid things. He was older than either of them, but the two of them were such a pair of moms. Well meaning moms, true, but still moms. Then again, they were also friends, and Lance was in good hands with the two of them.
In Lance's suite, JC glanced at the closed bedroom door, and figured that Joey was taking care of Lance. That meant it was up to him to feel out Mitch, and try to get a bearing on what, exactly, the situation was. He signed for breakfast, adding a generous tip, and thanked the guy. Turning, he saw Mitch still sitting in the chair, watching him carefully as JC smiled at him, sitting across from him. Two trays, filled with covered dishes of various sizes, sat on the coffee table between them, along with a stack of plates and a bucket of juice bottles. JC noted that it wasn't a champagne breakfast, which could be a good thing. No bottle meant nothing to celebrate, like a night of hot sex or something.
"Do you want some coffee?" JC asked, reaching for the pot and a cup.
"Sure," Mitch answered, leaning forward. He winced a little as he shifted his leg wrong, but shrugged it off. "We should probably wait for them for the food. Are they, um, is everything ok?"
"Oh, yeah, everything's fine," JC said, pouring. "Joey's probably just making sure Lance is ok. So, um, Mitch, since you're ok, except for the leg, what are you planning to do now?"
"You mean, am I planning to sue Lance for running me over, or to run to the newspapers with stories of Nsync members speeding drunkenly through the night and hitting the homeless?" Mitch asked, his tone light as he took the cup of coffee from JC. The best way to deal with the smart one was to be smart yourself. JC blinked at him for a second, but then nodded.
"Something like that, yes," JC answered, thinking to himself that the guy wasn't stupid. "Are you?"
Mitch sighed.
"Look, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I want to be honest with you, ok?" Mitch said, looking pensively at JC. "I didn't know who you guys were until Lance told me, and I wouldn't have recognized any of you if he hadn't. I'm not planning on asking for anything from you. Lance paid for my cast and my trip to the emergency room, and that's really all I'd expect. It's actually more than I'd expect from most people, but I can tell that he's someone who tries to do the right thing, when he can. He didn't have any ill will toward me, and it wouldn't be right for me to repay him with it. I know he didn't hit me on purpose, and he wouldn't have hit me at all if I hadn't come running out of that alley like that. He's done his best, and really more than his best, to make up for it, and as far as I'm concerned, he and I are square."
"If that's true," JC began, his eyes narrowing a little above his steaming coffee cup, locked on Mitch's, "and all you'd expect is for Lance to pay for your treatment, then what are you doing here, now?"
In the bedroom Lance stared at Joey, waiting to hear what he had to say. He knew that Joey meant well, but could tell already that Joey had some misconceptions about the situation, based on the way he had been glancing at Mitch in the suite room. Joey always thought he was subtle, always assumed that no one noticed his brown eyes rolling around the room, but he was about as subtle as a drag queen in church, and Lance could always tell exactly what he was thinking.
"What do we need to talk about?" Lance asked carefully, wondering if Joey was going to scold him. Usually Joey let the scoldings come from JC, but every once in a while he would take Lance aside if he thought it was something personal.
"Don't get all jumpy," Joey said, smiling and holding up his hands nonthreateningly. "I just want to make sure you're ok, Lance. I mean, you had a really rough night last night, and I just wanted to check in, and see how you're feeling. Are you ok, Lance? Really?"
"I guess so," Lance sighed, sitting down on the bed. It felt good to know that Joey wanted to check on him, to make sure he didn't need anything. Lance was close to all of the guys, but Joey really was his best friend. "I was kind of numb for a while. I really think I was in shock, a little bit. I mean, I hit Mitch with the van, Joey. I could have killed him."
"But you didn't," Joey pointed out, sitting next to him. "I'm proud of you, though. I don't know what I would have done, especially with Wade there telling me not to do anything."
"Don't get mad at Wade," Lance sighed, shaking his head. "He was just doing what he always does. Wade was watching out for Justin."
"No surprise there," Joey said, and they both smiled ruefully. "He wasn't too bad, was he?"
"At least he was thinking," Lance said, shaking his head. "I mean, I was scared, Joey. I was so scared, and I couldn't think of anything to do. I couldn't think at all. At least Justin had his phone out, and Wade was thinking about what we should do. I just, I saw Mitch on the ground, in pain, and all I could think was that it was my fault."
"And you feel bad about it," Joey continued for him, watching Lance's face.
"Yeah, I do," Lance said, turning to Joey. His face twisted a little, and Joey could see how guilty Lance really did feel. He'd probably spent the entire night beating himself up over this. "Joey, how could I not? I hit him. I wasn't careful, and I hurt someone. I could have killed him. He's out there, right now, with a broken leg, in pain, and I did that to him, Joey, I did."
"Lance, is that why he's here?" Joey asked, waiting. "Is that why Mitch slept here last night?"
Mitch returned JC's stare across the top of his own cup, knowing it would be a mistake to break eye contact, to back down from him. It might have seemed innocent, just two guys chatting over coffee, but Mitch knew that more was going on. This was his test. If he got past JC, he was in.
"I'm here because Lance insisted I stay," Mitch said carefully. "I was going to go back to a shelter last night, but Lance was worried that all the beds might be full."
"So he gave you his?" JC asked. It sounded like something Lance would do, but was it Lance's idea?
"I tried to take the couch, but he insisted," Mitch said, leaning back. "The doctor at the hospital said that I might have a concussion, and that I needed to be watched for a night or two."
"So you just assumed that Lance would put you up for the night, too?" JC asked. "Maybe that was part of making up for hitting you with the van?"
"No, actually, I didn't," Mitch said firmly. "I thought I was going to go find someplace warm and quiet to just sleep this off, and that's what I expected to do. Look, JC, I know you're watching out for your friend, and you're trying to take care of him, and I respect that. Maybe you'd just expect a free room for the night, and a bath, and whatever else, but I didn't. I'm not like that."
"I didn't say that," JC countered, frowning.
"But you're working your way toward it," Mitch said. They both knew it. Mitch sighed, looking away finally, letting his face fall a little so that Josh wouldn't notice him painfully biting the inside of his cheek. When he looked up again, his eyes glistened with wet unshed tears. "Look, JC, this isn't easy for me, ok? I don't know what you think about people like me, but I don't take handouts from other people. I don't look for anyone else's charity, or their pity. I know I don't live, you know, like you do, but I'm used to taking care of myself. I'm used to doing it on my own, and even if I haven't done the best job with that, it's still who I am. I may not have anything, may not have more than I can carry around in one bag, but I still have pride, ok?"
"No one's saying it's your fault that you're on the streets," JC said, feeling a little bad about it. He just wanted to know what was going on. He hadn't intended to hurt this guy. "That's not what I meant at all."
"I'm going to pay Lance back for this," Mitch said, his voice tightening a little. "I don't know if you believe that, and I don't know how I'm going to do it, but I'm not just here to take from him. I'm going to pay him back, and I'll make this right. That's the kind of person that I am, JC. Lance keeps insisting that I stay, or that I have some breakfast, or that I just keep these clothes he gave me, and that's a problem for me, ok? The problem isn't that I haven't said no, it's that I keep letting him argue me into saying yes."
JC looked at him skeptically.
"Believe me or don't," Mitch said bitterly, letting one of those tears trickle out of his eye, spilling down his cheek. "Every time I have to take something from Lance, every time, I have to admit to myself that it's something I can't do. I have to admit to myself that I don't have any money for breakfast right now, that I can't sleep in a bed, a real bed, right now, and every time I do that, it chips another little piece of me away. Is that what you wanted to hear? Is it?"
Mitch didn't wait for JC's answer, although he could tell that he was surprised. The expression on his face was a little stunned at Mitch's outburst, and his mouth worked soundlessly as Mitch awkwardly pulled himself up from the chair, teetering uncertainly as he wiped at his eyes and tried to toddle toward the door on his crutches. JC wasn't sure where he was going, but he was obviously hurting inside, and he couldn't leave him like that. Something about his eyes, his face, just made him want to reach out and help him, and he wondered if Lance had felt the same way. Mitch heard JC rising from his chair as he jerked himself toward the door, and tried to put a cap on his feelings, a little surprised himself at what he'd said. When he really had been out on his own, before that night when Keith had picked him up, that had been the way he'd felt about other people, and charity, and taking care of himself. This job, even though he'd only been at it for a day, was so much harder than he thought it would be. It kept ripping open his scabs, uncovering old wounds that he didn't want to have to deal with, things that he'd tried to push away.
"Where are you going?" JC asked from behind him, wondering what he should do now. Just let him leave?
"You're right," Mitch said, finally getting his footing. He began to cross toward the door. "I shouldn't be here."
"I didn't say that," JC said quickly, hearing the pain in his voice. Mitch's foot caught one of his crutches, and he fell to the floor, letting out a little cry of pain as he came down on his leg. JC knelt beside him, seeing him wipe his face, seeing how much this really was hurting him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "Mitch, let me help you. Please. At least let me help you up."
Lance looked over at Joey, frowning a little.
"Joey, he slept here because I basically forced him to," Lance said. "He didn't want to, and he was totally surprised that I offered. He wanted to leave. He thought I was just going to leave him at the hospital, and he was ok with that."
"Lance, I know this sounds bad, but if he was ok with that, why did you bring him here?" Joey asked. "I mean, why did you bring a total stranger back to the hotel, and then put him up for the night? I know he seems nice, but do you even know anything about him?"
"Yeah, I do," Lance said, a little defensively. "I talked to him, Joey, at the hospital, and back here. He's a nice guy, and he's had some bad breaks. Maybe I feel guilty about hurting him, but I also feel like I can help him. We all can. We do all that charity work, but this is our chance, right now, to help someone, someone real, someone right in front of us. This is our chance to make a difference, Joey."
"And how does Mitch feel about that?" Joey asked. "How does he feel about being your personal make a difference charity project?"
"He doesn't like it," Lance said, smiling a little. "I never thought I'd have to argue someone into a bath, and a bed for the night. I mean, Joey, this morning he woke up, and when I went in to check on him his stomach was growling and he wouldn't even ask for breakfast. I had to convince him that I was going to order it anyway. He doesn't want anything from me, Joey, anything at all, and he promised to pay everything back."
"And that's the only reason why he's here?" Joey asked carefully, not sure if he should come right out and say it. "Because you want to help him?"
"Why else would he be here?" Lance asked, frowning.
Joey swallowed, and decided to just go with it. If he didn't say anything now, he might not get a chance to later.
"Well, Lance, he is, you know, kind of a good looking guy," Joey began carefully. "And, you know, you want to help him, and here he is, all needy and good looking, and I was a little worried that he might be, you know, taking advantage of you."
"What?" Lance asked, incredulous. "No, Joey. I don't even know if he's like that, and that's not what I'm thinking, anyway. I just want to help him, Joey. That's all."
"OK," Joey said, holding up his hands. "OK, I just thought I'd ask. If you want to help him, I'll go with your judgment on this one, ok? I trust you, but I would like to go talk to him a little more."
"OK," Lance said, nodding. "Why don't we go out and see about breakfast? I'm sure JC's all done interrogating him by now, anyway."
"What makes you think," Joey began, blinking at Lance in surprise, but Lance's laughter silenced him, and Joey had to grin.
"I may be blond, but I'm not dumb," Lance said, patting Joey on the back. "I know you two, and I've seen you use the old 'divide and conquer' enough times to know what's going on. Let's go eat, and see if he passed."
"If you're right about him, I'm sure he did," Joey said, pulling the door open. The two of them paused in the doorway as they saw JC helping Mitch awkwardly to his feet, Mitch's face red and wet and JC's flushing guiltily.
"Is everything ok here?" Lance asked.
"Yeah," Mitch answered, nodding, favoring Lance with that warm, beaming smile. Lance felt his heart melting again.
"Everything's fine," JC said, helping Mitch toward his chair again. "We're just waiting for you two."
"Are you sure?" Lance asked Mitch, looking past JC. Over Lance's should JC and Joey exchanged glances, both assuring the other that things were ok. Mitch nodded.
"Yeah, I just stumbled a little," Mitch said, mentally shaking it off. "Come on. Let's eat."
Lance smiled at him as the three of them sat down around Mitch, and Mitch grinned back. It had hurt a little, but he'd passed the best friend test. Now things could really start to roll.
To be continued.