Date: Wed, 18 Jun 2003 23:05:31 -0400
From: Writer Boy <writerboy69@hotmail.com>
Subject: rebound - part 45

Obligatory warnings and disclaimers:

1) 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.

2) 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.

***

Holding the sides of Justin's head gently, I pulled him up from my neck,
where he had been lightly licking just below my jaw. He smiled down at me
as I pulled him up, and then his face was above mine, and I was staring
into those bright blue eyes of his as I pulled his face down, pressing his
mouth to mine. His lips were pressing against mine, and I felt a slight
shiver rush through me as his tongue slid into my mouth.  The tip of it
probed against my tongue, rubbing, pressing, and I wrestled mine back
against it. As Justin invaded my mouth his body pressed mine into the
mattress, both of us still dressed.  I could feel his firm chest crushing
me gently, and lower down I could feel how hard he was, the firm pipe of
his cock grinding against mine. He'd caught my hands and was holding them
by the wrists, pulling my arms out to either side of me so that he could
sample my mouth at his leisure.

I let out a soft purr of contentment, muffled between us by his tongue and
our lips, and Justin pulled back, his mouth wet and pink.

"You didn't like what I was doing to your neck?" he asked in his low, husky
voice, the one that really got me going. It wasn't quite a whisper.

"I liked it a lot," I said, leaning up. I couldn't move very far with him
on top of me, but did my best, flicking out my tongue to run the tip over
his bottom lip. "But you were going awfully fast with that tackle."

"You're right," Justin agreed, letting go of my hands. "Let's go slow."

He kissed me again, lifting up as he did, his lips firm and purposeful on
my mouth, and I had to sit up as he moved to keep our mouths connected. He
stood slowly, but remained stooped over so that we wouldn't have to stop
just yet, and I welcomed his tongue into my mouth again before gently
probing mine into his, running it over and through, exploring all of the
places he'd touched. He finally pulled back, both of us letting out a
little sigh of disappointment, and for a second a thin string of spit
connected us before it broke. I snickered, thinking about how
enthusiastically messy we could be.  Justin wiped his mouth with the back
of his hand, grinning at me.

"You look so sexy right now," he whispered. "With your clothes all wrinkled
and your hair messed up. I see my spit on your mouth, baby, and it makes me
so hot."

"Get undressed, Justin," I said, bending to untie my shoes. "Come to bed."

"In a second," he answered.

As I pulled off my shoes, and then my socks (nobody left their socks on to
go to bed outside of a porno movie, unless they were really in a hurry),
Justin shut off the lights and lit a few candles on the dresser. They had
candles in every room of the house, which I figured was JC's influence. I
undid my belt, and then began peeling off my clothes as Justin stood at the
foot of the bed and did the same in the flickering half light. Off came the
shoes, kicked into a corner, and then he stood on one foot and then the
other to pull his socks off. He was undoing his shirt as I pulled off my
pants, his chest coming slowly into view with each button, the curved pecs,
the small reddish pink nipples with their already hardened tips, the uneven
rippling of his abs leading down to his flat stomach, bisected by an almost
invisible treasure trail of scattered blond hair.

I pulled myself back on the bed, naked, settling myself against the pillows
as he slid his pants down over his long, lean thighs, blushing a little
when he grabbed the tops of his briefs with the obvious wet spot on the
front as his cock, equally obvious, bulged from within. The candlelight
turned him golden as he walked toward me, catching in his hair,
highlighting his smoothly rounded shoulders, glowing warmly in the hair on
his arms, legs, and the curls of his bush, glistening on the wet head of
his jutting cock. With almost feline grace he crawled up the bed toward me,
settling down on top of me the same way that we'd been laying before. Now,
though, I could feel all his skin sliding against mine, his nipples rubbing
against my own, our cocks throbbing together, trapped between us as he
began to kiss me again, one hand holding my face and the other running
through my hair.

"I love you," Justin whispered as I ran my hands up and down his back,
holding him against me, reveling in the feeling of his muscles gliding
beneath his skin.  "I love you."

"I love you, too," I answered, and Justin froze above me. He pulled back,
staring down at me, his face confused as if he hadn't quite heard me.

"You," he began, swallowing as his voice caught in his throat. His eyes
were so wide, and still bright blue despite the low light.

"I love you," I repeated, leaning up to kiss him. "I love you, Justin, and
I should have said it a while ago."

I did love Justin, and I was sure of it. Maybe it wasn't the same kind of
love that I felt for Matt, but it was still romantic love, pure love, the
kind that made me want to be with him and give myself to him and make him
happy. Maybe love felt different with different people, or maybe it wasn't
supposed to be analyzed and rationalized and everything else.  And maybe my
relationship with Justin wasn't perfect. Maybe I'd spent too much time
lately dwelling on the negative, not seeing all the things about him that I
fell in love with because I was too busy picking apart every little thing
he did that irritated me. Honestly, though, most of our problem was
communication, not talking to each other and not being honest with each
other, and being honest about my feelings was the best way I could think of
to start solving that problem. Maybe me not saying it was part of the
reason why Justin always had so many mood swings with me, why he went from
hot to cold and back again so fast sometimes that it felt like my head was
spinning.

Either way, I was saying it now, and above me I watched Justin's eyes
glisten, and knew that it was the right thing to do.

"Chris, please make love to me," Justin whispered, leaning down to kiss me
again. His lips were trembling, and I could feel his whole body
shivering. Up and down his back goosebumps raised, and I smoothed them down
with my hands, holding him and comforting him. He'd needed to hear me say
that for so long.

"I will, baby," I whispered, returning his kisses gently, still taking
things slow. "I'll take care of you."

Holding Justin's shoulders, feeling the firm muscle shift and yield beneath
my fingers, I rolled him gently, settling him back against the pillows. I
peeled the sheets back, revealing him to me, and he waited, relaxed except
for the throbbing cock resting against his abs, looking up at me with
anticipation as he caressed my head and neck with his hands. I held myself
above him, off to the side a little, and ran a hand down the side of his
body, brushing over his ribs and hip with the back of my fingers. He
shivered, making one of his little Justin noises, a low whine of pleasure.

"You're so beautiful, Justin," I whispered.

"So are you," he answered, reaching down. I felt his fingers close around
my shaft, squeezing it, and leaned down to kiss him. I wanted him badly,
but it was obvious that he wanted me, too. It was my turn to whimper now,
my hips moving slowly. "I want you, Chris. I want you inside me."

"I want you, too," I repeated, falling down on top of him.

He let out a loud groan, his hand still wrapped around my cock, squeezing
and pulling, and I felt my head leaving a slick trail across his hip. I
buried my face in his neck, tasting the warm skin, inhaling the smell of
his cologne. He was hot beneath my mouth, and I could feel his pulse. The
idea that it was pounding beneath my lips, that his heart was pounding just
for me, and because of what I was doing, was an extreme turn on, despite
the morbid vampiric overtones. I kissed my way across the ridge of his
collarbone, sucking at it, listening to him whimper and mew as he squirmed
beneath me.  He let go of my cock as I slid down him, kissing my way across
the rise of his chest. I found one of his nipples, stiff and ready, and
wrapped my mouth around it, forming a tight ring and sucking hard. Justin
yelped with pleasure, arching his back and pushing his chest up toward my
mouth.

"Yes, yes, please," he begged, one of his hands gripping my shoulder
tightly, the other rubbing the back of my head.

I would have liked to spend all night on his chest, to worship the muscle
and both of his nipples with my mouth the way they deserved, but I had
another, lower goal in mind. As I moved lower, painting my way with my
tongue, Justin squirmed and sighed and squealed beneath me. One of his
hands was still on the back of my head, and the other was rubbing over my
neck and shoulders, his fingertips feathering over me lightly even as they
tried to push me gently lower. I licked down the center of his abs, getting
closer, nearing the sticky smear of precum that his leaking cock, just
below my mouth now, was leaving across him. I zeroed in on that throbbing,
leaking pink cap and gave it a couple of tentative licks, just to savor his
slightly salty flavor and his springy, meaty texture. The head of his cock
was soft, innocent, but also slightly rubbery, giving a little as I pressed
my tongue against it. Justin yelped a little louder as I pressed the tip of
my tongue against his slit, running through it and spearing up more of his
sticky juice.

"Please, please, please," Justin whimpered over and over above me, and when
I looked up past his chest I saw that his eyes were closed and his face
straining.

Rather than smoothing out, the lines on his face deepened as I swallowed
him, sucking him all the way in until my nose was pressed into his pubes,
nuzzling against his flexing belly. As much as I could tell he wanted to,
Justin was slamming into my throat. Instead he was laying back, panting,
and letting me control the speed, remembering what I'd said earlier about
wanting to take it slowly. I bobbed slowly, deep throating him for a little
bit, then pulling back and just working on the head with my tongue, nursing
on it, before bobbing up and down, letting his thick shaft slide in and out
of my wet lips. He was still muttering and begging above me, mixing it in
with my name, tossing his head back and forth on the pillows, and I reached
up with one hand to touch his balls, probing them, then tugging lightly at
the sparse hair on them.

Justin's legs came up, his feet brushing my sides, as I reached under him
with the other hand and touched his hole. He tensed for just a second when
I did, sharply inhaling, and one of his hands left my head. I heard him
opening the nightstand, and knew what he was going for as I lightly circled
his hole with my fingertip, teasing him as I continued to suck him off and
massage his balls. His thighs were on either side of my face, rubbing
against my cheeks as he raised his knees, giving me better access as his
hand pressed the tube of lube toward me. He shivered as I squeezed a drop
onto him, going by feel since I still had his cock in my mouth, and I
flicked my tongue over his head to distract him as I began to gently probe
him with one, then two, and then three fingers. I slid them in and out,
speeding up until they matched the speed I was swallowing him, and I could
see sweat start to sheen across his forehead. His whimpers and yelps got
louder and faster, sharper and more urgent, and I swallowed him hard,
pulling him all the way into my throat, when I felt his balls draw up
toward his tightening body.

"Chris, oh, oh God," he yelped, jerking as my plunging fingers massaged his
prostate, and I felt his cock throbbing as he shot down my throat, spurting
hard as his abs locked in front of me, tightening and flexing.

As soon as it was over he was guiding me up his body, pulling my head and
shoulders up through his raised legs, one hand on my neck as the other slid
down my side, reaching for my cock. I was still probing and stretching him,
but I reached for the condom he'd dropped with the lube with my free hand
as I kissed him, pushing my tongue into his eagerly sucking mouth. Justin's
other hand slid down to tear the condom open, and then he was struggling to
roll it over my cock as I bit and sucked at his neck and his earlobe. I
pressed the lube into his hands, and he began to work my cock with them,
smearing it over my shaft and head, tugging me toward his tight little
opening.

"Please make love to me," he breathed in my ear, his voice breathy and
high, and I was happy to oblige, letting him press my head against his
hole. "Chris, please, I want you in me, right there, please. I want this. I
want your hard cock, please."

"OK," I breathed, pressing against him.

Justin's whole body bucked when I finally pushed inside. His back arched,
pushing his chest up into mine, and his hands, gripping my ass now, pulled
me forward as I slowly sank, inch by inch, into him. It was hot and warm
and tight, and seeing him throw his head back I knew there wasn't anywhere
else I'd rather be. His legs hooked around me, his heels rubbing the back
of my thighs, and I covered his face with kisses as I slowly moved in and
out of him, feeling him clench around me. He let go of my ass and ran his
fingers up and down my back, raking over my ribs, almost scratching,
lifting his hips up to meet my thrusts. Each time I sank in, my balls
smacking against his ass, I felt him clench, trying to hold me.

"Justin, I love you," I whispered, over and over, making sure he knew it,
driving my point home.

"Yes, Chris," Justin whimpered. He looked up at me, smiling, and I saw
something else flicker in his eyes as he leaned forward. "Fuck me,
Chris. Fuck me hard."

"Jesus, Justin," I moaned as he locked his legs around me, shifting somehow
to draw me in even deeper. Oh my God, listening to him say that was too
much. I started to hammer into him, driving him back into the
pillows. Every time I hit bottom, sawing in hard, he grunted, loudly, and
dug his fingers into my ass.

"Yeah, Chris, fuck me," he repeated, his voice a husky groan. "Fuck that
hard cock into me. Yeah, Yeah!"

"You like that?" I asked, grabbing his legs. I pulled them up, bending him
almost in half, planting his ankles on my shoulders. "You want it like
that? Huh?"

"Yes, harder," Justin chanted, locking eyes with mine. "Harder, please,
fuck me, Chris!"

He wasn't usually like this, but the way he was talking had me out of
control, and under me he was twisting his body and flexing, using all that
dancing grace in ways I wouldn't have thought of. Between the pleasure, I
wondered for a second if he might somehow snap my cock off, but it would be
totally worth it. His hands raked up my spine again, the fingertips digging
into my back, and he pinched my nipples, twisting them roughly away from my
chest as I hammered into him. I felt my body tensing up, but wanted him to
feel it, too, and I grabbed his still hard cock, jerking it hard in time to
my thrusts. I was moaning his name, and he was shaking his head back and
forth, yelping and just muttering, "Yes, yes, yes," over and over, the
cords in his neck straining as the sweat from my body dripped onto him to
mingle with his own.

"Chris!" Justin practically screamed, grabbing my neck.

He smashed his mouth against mine, sucking hard, as his cock let out a
faint spray of cum all over his chest and my hand, splattering widely. His
ass clamped down on my cock as his legs jerked, trying to push me away, and
I slammed into him again, gasping as I finally let myself fall over the
edge. I hadn't cum that hard in years, if ever, and I actually felt myself
almost blacking out as I collapsed on top of him. He kissed the side of my
head over and over, sucking and licking at my face and neck as I fought to
catch my breath, and when I finally found my way to his mouth again,
dueling with his tongue, I caught the coppery taste of blood.

"Justin?" I asked, pulling back. His eyes went wide as he grabbed me and
rolled me over, my cock still inside him.

"Oh my God," he blurted, reaching over for the tissues. Rather than pulling
off of me and starting to clean us up, he began to blot my mouth. "Chris,
I'm so sorry! Oh my God, I bit your lip."

"It's ok," I said, running my tongue over the spot. Matt had definitely
never done anything like that. "Wow. That was."

"Yeah," Justin sighed, blotting at my mouth again as he smiled at me. "That
was wow."

The two of us rested for a second, Justin still on top of me, his skin
sliding over mine, slickened with sweat and that little smattering of
cum. Kissing me again, he carefully pulled off of me, and cleaned me off
with tissues, getting rid of the condom and doing his best to clean up the
rest before I gently took care of him, too. He whimpered, sensitive, as I
touched his hole, but his eyes told me it was ok, and when it was over he
pulled the sheet up and I settled down against his chest, resting my head
on him as he ran his hand through my hair. The candles were still burning,
but from where I was they didn't seem to be near anything flammable, and
neither of us actually wanted to get up to blow them out. Justin's skin was
drying now, cool and soft under my cheek, and I planted mostly dry little
kisses along his pec as I lay on it. He sighed with contentment.

"Chris, I love you so much," he whispered again.

"I love you, too, Justin," I answered, and closed my eyes.

We fell asleep cradling each other, reveling in each other's skin and smell
and just the presence of having the other one near. Each time he breathed
in, my head rose on his chest, and when I breathed out, it fluttered across
his skin. His heart was beating under my cheek, and his hands cradled me
against him as if he didn't want to ever let go.  Whatever else was going
on between us, the fighting and the tension and everything else, right then
it didn't matter. Nothing mattered more than the two of us being together
and safe.

When the alarm went off, I woke up in pain, real pain. I yelped, closing my
eyes, and Justin sat up immediately.

"Chris?" he asked, touching my back. "Chris, what's wrong?"

"Headache, Justin," I answered through gritted teeth. I'd never felt
anything like this before. It was like a fist was squeezing my skull, and I
whimpered a little as he rubbed my back.

"Is it a hangover?" Justin asked. I shook my head. "Can I do anything? Do
you want me to go wake JC?"

I shook my head again, wincing at the movement.

"For a headache, Justin?" I asked, almost smiling. "What's he going to do?"

"I don't know!" he answered, and I could hear the worry in his
tone. "Jesus, Chris, you're so pale. I'm going to call my mom."

"No!" I said sharply, cringing a little from my own tone of voice. It was
just a headache, but I wouldn't call Justin's mother if I was bleeding to
death and she had the world's last band aid. "Bring me some water, please,
baby, and some aspirin."

"OK, ok," Justin said, his voice shaking a little. He scurried away from
the bed, and I lay on my side, waiting for him to come back. When he did he
dropped to his knees beside the bed and began rubbing my shoulder
again. "Chris? Please be ok."

"I'm ok, Justin," I said, squinting my eyes open. I could see from his face
that he was on the verge of tears, and the water in the glass shook as he
held it out to me, his hand trembling. I swallowed the aspirin and handed
him the glass.

"What should I do?" Justin asked, rubbing my hands, holding them between
his. "What else do you need?"

"Go take a shower, Justin," I whispered. "Maybe I just need a little more
sleep. Go get ready for your interview."

"Are you sure?" he asked. I realized that he'd just run through the house
to get the water stark naked, and prayed JC wasn't up yet.

"Yeah," I answered. "I'm just going to lay here, ok?"

By the time Justin got done showering and dressing, leaning over me several
times and delicately feeling my forehead to check for a fever, I actually
felt a little better, but I still had to convince him to go to his
interview.

"No, I'll call and cancel," he said, sitting on the bed, holding my head in
his lap. "I'm not leaving you like this."

"No, I'll be fine," I insisted. "It's going away already, and it's too much
trouble for you to schedule this stuff. I'll just sleep it off, Justin, and
I'll be fine."

He paced the room for a few minutes, busying himself with checking his
outfit again, changing his accessories, and retouching his hair. He
switched shoes, and was looking at his phone again when I finally insisted.

"Justin! Please go," I said, sitting up even though my skull was throbbing.
"It's just a headache. People get them all the time for no reason, and they
go away. I'll be fine. Just go to your interview, and I'll get some more
sleep, and everything will be ok."

He swallowed, fidgeting with his hands, looking at his nails, and finally
nodded.

"I want you to leave your phone on," he instructed, putting it on the
nightstand on my side. "Call me if you need anything, please, and I'll come
back as soon as it's over. If it doesn't go away, or it gets worse, you
call me immediately, ok?"

"OK," I promised. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he answered, leaning down to kiss me. He planted a quick
peck on my lips, watched me warily for a minute from the doorway, as if
regretting his decision, and then was gone. I closed my eyes and went back
to sleep.

When I woke up I could tell it was a lot later, both by the change in
sunlight and by the rumble of my stomach. I'd missed breakfast, and hadn't
had any coffee, which probably had as much to do with my groggy mindset as
the departed headache did. My head felt kind of empty, like it was full of
cotton or something, but at least it didn't hurt anymore. I picked up the
phone as I walked toward the shower, remembering that Justin had said to
keep it with me, and saw a text message telling me that he loved me and
that I should call immediately if I needed him. I wondered as I got in the
shower if he would answer, or if Johnny or one of the other trusted friends
was holding it. For all I knew, his mother was there. When I was showered
and dressed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt since I wasn't
planning to go anywhere, and went off in search of food.

Instead I found company, hearing voices, male voices, as I approached the
music room on my way to the kitchen. I picked out JC's immediately, picking
up on his hurt, depressed tone again, but didn't recognize the other. If it
wasn't Lance, Joey, or Chris, then it had to be someone new. I paused,
waiting and listening.

"Do you have to say it like that?" JC asked. "I thought you wanted to hang
out today. I thought we were going to, I don't know, talk or something."

Oh, shit. This wasn't a phone call. This was in person. He was here.

"Jesus Christ, JC, are we back to this again?" JC's ex boyfriend asked.
"What is it with you lately? What the hell did you think I came over here
for? I know you want it, and I haven't had any since the other day. I'm
horny. I need to drop a load."

Oh, and he was eloquent and polite, too. What the hell had JC ever seen in
this guy?

"Do you have to make everything sound so ugly?" JC asked sharply. "You make
it sound like that's all you care about, just, just getting off."

"Let me repeat myself," Ex boyfriend sighed. "Are we back to this again?
What the hell do you want from me, JC? Besides my dick. You want to blow
me? I'll let you blow me.  You want me to fuck you? I'll be happy to do it
all over the house, slam it right up your ass as hard as you want me
to. I'll finished getting undressed, and then I'll do whatever you want. We
both know that's why you said yes when I called."

Finish getting undressed? Like he was partially undressed right now, and
might need to finish? I crept closer to the doorway, fully aware that I was
losing all grounds to lecture Justin for eavesdropping. I'd been doing it a
hell of a lot lately, too.

"You said you wanted to hang out," JC said weakly.

"Like you don't know what that means?" he asked. "Did you want me to call
and say, 'Hey, I'm hard and my wife doesn't get back for another week. You
want to suck me off like you did the other day?' Is that what you'd rather
I said, because I can do that next time."

"I want you to talk to me like you respect me!" JC burst sharply, pain
evident in his tone.  Was he crying? "I want you to, I don't know, to at
least pretend like you care about me."

"Hey, hey," he said, his voice losing a little of its bite. "I care about
you. I mean, I'm here, aren't I?"

Yeah, to get his rocks off. JC wasn't really going to fall for this line of
bullshit, was he? I never would have thought that I'd end up rooting for
JC, but honestly, he was better than this. He could do a lot better than
this asshole.

"Don't touch me," JC said, but it lacked bite. "No, I mean it. Don't. I
feel like you don't care about me at all."

"Jesus fucking Christ, JC," he said, his voice raising again. "You want to
talk about your feelings now? Now? We've had this discussion. We're two
guys who have sex. I need to get off, and you help me out. I'm not here for
the rest of this faggy bullshit, JC. I'm not going to hold your hand or
kiss your cheek. Save that for your boyfriend, ok?"

JC didn't say anything. I wanted to walk in there and slug this guy. "Faggy
bullshit"? Hi, asshole, you just offered to fuck him all over the house,
and to let him blow you. Perhaps I wasn't quite clear on all the terms the
cool kids were using lately, but I was pretty sure that doing that with the
same guy, or really with any guy, for years at a time might possibly
qualify as "faggy".

"Oh, that's right, you don't have a boyfriend," he said cruelly. "Your
boyfriend's got another boyfriend now, right? Maybe it was all this weepy
bullshit, JC. Did you ever think about that?"

"Stop it," JC said softly.

"Are you crying?" he demanded incredulously. "What is wrong with you
lately?"

We waited. I hoped JC was reaching for the tissue box.

"Well?" he prodded. Did he get off on this, too, on breaking JC?

"You make me feel like I'm your whore," JC said finally. "You make me feel
like the only reason you call is to get off, and the only reason you call
me is because it's safe, and I have as much to lose as you do."

"And that's it?" he asked. That didn't move him at all?

"You asked what was wrong with me, and I answered," JC said dully. "Did you
want to hear something else? Did you want me to say I love you? I'm not
sure if I ever did, but I could say it."

"Jesus, no," he sighed. "That's the last thing I want to hear, more of that
faggy bullshit.  Let me remind you, once again JC, of the simple facts
here. I'm not your limp-wristed, pansy assed faggot dancing boyfriend. I'm
not that little fucking twink that you think walks on water. I'm a real
man, JC, and real men don't do the shit you do.  Real men don't hold hands,
or move in together, or any of the rest of this, and that's always going to
be the problem between us. I'm a real man, and you're, well, you."

JC didn't say anything, and I wasn't even sure what he could say to that. I
wanted to take this guy out to the pool and drown him. No wonder JC came
back from seeing him and sat in his room and cried all day. No wonder just
talking to him left JC upset and uncertain. Justin was completely right
when he said this guy was bad news, and that he wasn't dealing with his own
issues. The guy wasn't just in denial, he was hostile about it, and JC was
his target. Why would JC keep going back to that, and why on earth would he
do it when he had Justin?

Ex boyfriend continued his tirade while I was silently steaming in the
hallway.

"I'm glad you understand things, though. You're right. I call you because I
need to get off, and I know you won't tell. You're wrong about something,
though. I mean, I don't hate you. I don't care about you the way that you
want me to, you know, in your little sissy daydreams, but I care about you
a little. You're a friend, and I'm a friend to you, too. I let you help me
out. I know it's something you want, and I'm willing to let you have
it. I'd think you'd be grateful."

He had to be kidding.

"Grateful?" JC asked quietly. "You cost me Justin. Maybe you don't
understand it, but I love him, and because of this, this thing that you and
I do, I lost him. You want me to be grateful for that?"

"OK, you lost Justin because you told him," he answered. "That's your own
fault, not mine. I didn't make you do anything you didn't want to, and I
sure as hell didn't make you tell him."

"I don't lie to people I love," JC said. "I'm not you. How's your wife, by
the way?"

Good for you, JC. I grinned in the hallway.

"Fuck you," ex boyfriend answered angrily. Apparently JC hit a nerve. "This
is too much fucking trouble just for a blowjob. I'm going home to beat
off."

"Wait," JC said, his voice broken. He sounded defeated, and I knew that he
was about to ask this guy to stay after all. I couldn't let him do that,
not with this guy. I stepped into the doorway of the music room.

"No, go home. He doesn't need you," I said loudly, folding my arms. JC's
mouth fell open in surprise, but I was equally surprised to see the guy
with him, standing in the music room, his shirt undone. The words flew out
of my mouth before I could stop them, and under other circumstances I
probably would have blushed and felt like an idiot.  "You're that guy from
the Backstreet Boys!"

Kevin's eyes narrowed.

***

To be continued.